Continental Monthly, Vol. I, No. V, May, 1862 by Various

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[Transcriber's note: Footnotes at end of document]

THE CONTINENTAL MONTHLY:

DEVOTED TO

LITERATURE AND NATIONAL POLICY

VOL. I.--MAY, 1862.--No. V.

* * * * *

WHAT SHALL WE DO WITH IT?

The first blood that was shed in our Revolutionary struggle, was in
Boston, in March, 1770. The next at Lexington, in June, 1775.

The interval was filled with acts of coercion and oppression on the one
side and with complaints and remonstrances on the other. But the thought
of Independence was entertained by very few of our people, even for some
time after the affair at Lexington. Loyalty to the mother country was
professed even by those most clamorous in their complaints, and
sincerely so, too. The great majority thought that redress of grievances
could be obtained without severance from Great Britain.

But events hurried the people on, and that which was scarcely spoken of
at the beginning of the struggle, soon became its chief object.

Is it not the same with our present contest with the South? We took up
arms to defend the Constitution, to sustain our Government, to maintain
the Union; and in the course of performing that work, it would seem as
if Emancipation was forced upon us, and as if it was yet to be the prime
object in view.

Lo! how much has already been done toward that end, even though not
originally intended! As our armies advance into the enemies' country,
thousands of slaves are practically emancipated by the flight and
desertion of their rebel masters. The rules and articles of war have
been so altered by Congress as to forbid our military forces from
returning to bondage any who flee from it. The President has proposed,
and Congress has entertained, the proposition of aiding the States in
emancipation. Fremont, who has been regarded as the representative of
the emancipation feeling, has been restored to active command. And
multitudes of our people, who have hitherto considered themselves as
bound by the Constitution not to interfere with the subject, have become
open in the avowal that as slavery has been the cause of the evil, so it
must now be wiped out forever.

It would seem, therefore, as if it was inevitable that the question of
emancipation is to be thrust upon us, and we must be prepared to meet
it. It is in this view, and irrespective of the question of right and
wrong in slavery, that some considerations present themselves, which can
not be ignored.

The difference of race between the white and the negro will ever keep
them apart, and forbid their amalgamation. One or the other must
ultimately go to the wall, and it is worth our while to see what time
is doing with the question: 'Which must it be in this country?'

Hence it is important to note the progress of both the races with us.

In the course of seventy years, that is, from the census of 1790 to that
of 1860, the slave population has increased from 697,897 to 4,002,996.
So that our colored population is now six times as great as when our
Government was formed.

During the same period the free population has increased from 3,231,975
to 27,280,070, or nearly nine times as great as in 1790. Of this
increase about 3,000,000 is the result of emigration; so that the
native-born population has increased to about 24,000,000, or about eight
times as many as in the beginning of our Government. If due allowance be
made for those born of emigrant parents,[A] it would seem that the two
races have about kept pace with each other in their natural increase.

A more minute examination, however, will show that the natural increase
of the colored race has been in a greater ratio than that of the whites,
native-born to the soil.

The following tables will show how this is, both as to the colored and
the white races.

INCREASE OF SLAVE POPULATION.

Years. No. of Slaves. Increase. Per ct. of Increase.

1790, 697,897
1800, 893,041 195,144 28
1810, 1,191,364 298,323 32
1820, 1,538,064 346,700 29
1830, 2,009,031 470,967 29
1840, 2,487,855 478,324 24
1850, 3,204,313 716,958 29
1860, 4,002,996 798,683 25

The average increase in every ten years during the seventy years has
been about 28 per cent.

INCREASE OF WHOLE POPULATION, INCLUDING SLAVES
AND EMIGRANTS

Years. Population. Increase. Per ct. of
Increase.
1790, 3,929,872 1,376,080
1800, 5,305,952 1,376,080 37
1810, 7,239,814 1,933,862 36
1820, 9,688,131 2,398,817 33
1830, 12,866,920 3,228,789 34
1840, 17,063,353 4,196,433 33
1850, 23,191,876 6,128,523 36
1860, 31,676,217 8,484,341 36

The average increase in every ten years would be about 35 per cent.

Deducting from this latter table the slaves, the emigrants, and children
born of emigrants, now included in it, and the ratio of increase is
below 27 per cent every ten years. So that if anything should occur to
check the tide of emigration, the blacks in this country would increase
in a faster ratio than the whites.

We can form some idea as to the danger of such a check, when we advert
to the fact that the emigration which in 1854 was 427,833, fell off in
1858 to 144,652.

To finish the picture which these figures present to us, let us carry
the mind forward a decade or two. At the average rate of increase of the
blacks, namely, 28 per cent, we shall have, of the slave population
alone, and excluding the free blacks, 5,060,585 in 1870, and 6,577,584
in 1880. And by that time they will be increasing at the rate of 150,000
to 200,000 a year.

Carl Schurz, in his speech at the Cooper Institute, in New-York, put to
his audience a pertinent inquiry: 'You ask me, What shall we do with our
negroes, who are now 4,000,000? And I ask you, What will you do with
them when they will be 8,000,000--or rather, _what will they do with
you?_ Surely, surely the question involves the greatest problem of the
age.

If our fathers had met the question seventy years ago, we should not now
behold the spectacle of 6,000,000 of our people in rebellion, and an
army of 400,000 men arrayed against the integrity of the Union. And we
may well profit by the example so far as to ask ourselves the question,
What will be the condition of our country and of our posterity, fifty
years hence, if we, too, shirk the question as painful and difficult of
solution?

Whether ultimate and universal emancipation will be one of the necessary
modes of dealing with it, time must show. In the mean time there is a
question immediately pressing upon us. Day by day our armies are
advancing among them, and every news of a contest that comes, brings us
accounts of the swarms of 'contrabands' who are flocking to us for
protection. At one place alone, Port Royal, S.C., the Government Agent
reports that there are at least fifteen thousand slaves deserted by
their masters, and thus practically emancipated. Untaught and unwonted
to take care of themselves--our armies consuming the fruits of the earth
and finding no employment for these 'National Freedmen'--the danger is
great that want, and temptation, and the absence of the government to
which they have been accustomed, may yet drive them to become lawless
hordes, preying on all.

The same state of things must of necessity exist wherever the
slave-owner flies from the approach of our armies; and we have now
presented to us the alternative of either allowing their state to be
worse by reason of their emancipation, or better, according as the wise
and the humane among us may deal with the subject.

Some measures, we learn, have already been initiated for the emergency.
'The Educational Commission' of Boston, at the head of which is Governor
Andrews; 'The Freedman's Relief Association,' in New-York, with Judge
Edmonds as its President; and a similar society in Philadelphia, of
which Stephen Colwell is Chairman, are societies of large-hearted men
and women, banded together, as they express it, to 'teach the freedmen
of the colored race civilization and Christianity; to imbue them with
notions of order, industry, economy and self-reliance, and to elevate
them in the scale of humanity, by inspiring them with self-respect.'

The task is certainly a high and holy one, and eminently necessary. How
far it will be sustained by the Government or the people, or how far the
purpose can be carried out with a race who have been intentionally kept
in profound ignorance, is part of the great problem that we are to
solve. But not all of it, by any means. There is much more for
enlightened patriotism and wise humanity yet to do, before the task
shall be accomplished and the work begun by the Revolution shall be
finished; and to prevent a conflict of races, which can end only in the
extermination of one or the other.

The 16,000,000 of natives who were once masters of this whole continent
are now dwindled into a few insignificant tribes, 'away among the
mountains.' Is such to be the fate of the negro also? Or has the spirit
of God's charity so far progressed among us that, unlike our fathers, we
can redeem rather than destroy, can emancipate rather than enslave?

Be the answer to those questions what it may, there are other
considerations, immediately affecting ourselves as a nation and a race.

Slavery would seem to retard our advancement in both respects.

During the ten years from 1850 to 1860, the total population of our
country increased about 37 per cent.

In 1790, there were seventeen States in the Union, and of those
seventeen, eight are now slave States, and the following table of those
States will show how the increase of slavery retards the advance of the
whites:

Ratio of Ratio of
Free Whites. Increase Slaves. Increase
1850. 1860. 1850. 1860.

Delaware, 71,169 110,548 56 2,290 1,805 *
Georgia, 521,572 615,336 18 381,682 467,461 23
Kentucky, 761,417 933,707 22 210,981 225,902 7
Maryland, 417,943 646,183 55 90,368 85,382 *
N. Carolina, 552,028 679,965 23 288,548 328,377 14
S. Carolina, 274,567 308,186 9 384,984 407,185 7
Tennessee, 756,753 859,528 14 239,460 287,112 20
Virginia, 894,800 1097,373 23 472,628 495,826 5

* Decrease.

From these facts, it would seem that, in the two States in which slavery
has decreased, the increase of the whites has been 55 and 56 per cent,
exceeding the average ratio of increase in the whole nation. While in
all the other States, where slavery has increased, none of them have
come up to the average national ratio of increase, and in one of them,
(South-Carolina,) the increase is not one quarter the national average.

In respect to South-Carolina, it is a remarkable fact that while she has
now nearly four tunes as many slaves as she had in 1790, her whole
population (slaves and all) is not three times what it then was, and her
free population is only a little more than twice its number in 1790. In
other words, while in seventy years her slave population has increased
four-fold, her free population has only a little more than doubled.[B]

These facts teach their own lesson; but they compel all who value the
Union and the peace of the nation, to ask how far they have had to do
with the troubles of nullification and secession, which for thirty years
have been plaguing us, and have now culminated in a terrible rebellion!

* * * * *

A PHILOSOPHIC BANKRUPT.

The great financial storm that swept over our country and Europe, in the
'fall of 1857,' overwhelming so many large and apparently staunch
vessels, did not disdain to capsize and send to the bottom many smaller
craft; my own among the number. She was not as heavily freighted (to
continue for a moment the nautical metaphor) as some that sunk around
her; but as she bore my all, it looked at first pretty much like a
life-and-death business, especially the latter. For a time, all was
horror and confusion; but as the wreck cleared away, I soon discovered
that there would, at any rate, remain to me the consolation that others
would not lose through my misfortunes; that the calamity, if such it
were, would affect no one but myself. My own experience, and my
observation of those around me, has led me, naturally enough, to ponder
a good deal on the subject of reverses in life, and as no page of
genuine experience can be considered wholly valueless, it may do no harm
to record my own. Though many have undergone reverses, few, with the
exception of ministers, ever seem to have written about them, a class of
men who, whatever their other troubles, in these days of bronchitis and
fastidious parishes, have usually been exempt from trials of this
peculiar character.

Bishop Butler, in one of his sermons on Human Nature, alludes to a sect
in philosophy, representing, I suppose, the 'selfish system,' one of
whose ideas is that men are naturally pleased on hearing of the
misfortunes of others. La Rochefoucauld expresses the same sentiment as
his own. Couched in plain language, this appears to be a gloomy and
heartless doctrine; but probably nothing more is meant than a refinement
of the common adage, 'Misery loves company,' and that very good and
benevolent persons, if themselves overtaken by misfortune, can not but
feel some alleviation for their sorrows, in reflecting that others have
trials equally great and that they are but partakers of a common though
bitter lot. If there be really any consolation in reflections of this
kind, history furnishes us many striking examples, and, as far as great
changes in worldly condition are concerned, the prince and the plebeian,
the emperor and the exile, have often found themselves for a time on the
same level.

The wheel of fortune, in its revolutions, generally produces changes of
two descriptions, either exalting the lowly or pulling down the great.
In rarer instances, not satisfied with giving the individual a single
turn, it grants him the benefit of a more varied experience. It carries
the country-boy to wealth and power, and then transports him back to his
native fields, whose pure air is not less wholesome, after all, than the
heated atmosphere of the ball-room or caucus-chamber; or it may roll the
wave of revolution over a kingdom, banishing the prince to wander an
exile, perhaps a schoolmaster, in distant lands, to contend with poverty
or duns, and then, on its receding tide, landing him once more safely on
his throne. Frequent revolutions have, however, taught princes wisdom in
this respect. Most of them now seem to be well provided for in foreign
countries, beyond the reach of contingencies in their own, and if time
is given them to escape with their lives, it is generally found that
they have 'laid up treasure' where at any rate the thieves of the new
dynasty can not 'break through and steal.' A very recent instance is
afforded us by his majesty Faustin I., who, notwithstanding his
confidence in the affection of his subjects, seems to have preferred
taking the Bank of England as collateral security.

The first French Revolution probably affords as striking examples of
change in worldly condition as any other period, and among those whom it
affected for the time, few were more remarkable than two persons whom it
sent to our own shores, Talleyrand and Chateaubriand. During the
residence of the former in Philadelphia, he appears at one time to have
been in the most abject poverty. We read of his pawning a watch and
smaller articles, to provide himself and his companion with food; any
care for their wardrobes, beyond the faded garments they were then
wearing, being apparently out of the question. If one who then met the
needy foreigner walking the wide streets of that respectable city, had
predicted that in a few years this shabby Frenchman would be looked up
to as the leader of the diplomacy of Europe, he might with perfect
justice have been regarded as a fit subject for one of that city's
excellent asylums. But a few years did witness this change, and saw him
powerful and the possessor of millions; unfortunately for the Abbe's
reputation, much of the latter being the wages of corruption.[C]

Chateaubriand speaks feelingly of the sufferings he and his companion
underwent in London, about the same period. Lodged in a dismal garret,
they were at one time obliged to economize their food almost as closely
as the inhabitants of a beleaguered town. He speaks of walking the
streets for hours together, utterly uncertain what to do, passing
stately houses and groups of blooming English children, and then
returning late at night to his attic, where his companion, 'trembling
with cold,' would rise from his ill-clad bed to open the door for him.
He strikingly contrasts his position then with his approach to London
twenty years later, as ambassador from France, driving in
coach-and-four through towns whose authorities came out to welcome him
in the usual pompous manner, and, while in London, giving magnificent
balls in one of the stately houses, and perhaps numbering among his
guests some of the blooming children he had once passed, now expanded
into full-blown and gorgeous flowers of aristocracy. These are, of
course, uncommon instances; but they teach that the most brilliant
present may have had the darkest past; that there is always ground for
hope, and that the caprices of fortune, if we take no higher view of
them, are mysterious enough.

The man who has been overtaken by reverses, need not look far abroad to
see that a system of compensation is pretty generally dealt out in this
life. Set him adrift in the world, with scarcely a dollar; let him walk,
almost a beggar, through the same streets he once trod, a man of wealth,
and it would be idle to assert that he will not be almost overwhelmed by
the force of bitter recollections. In proportion as other days were
happy, will these be miserable. As Dante has truly said, the memory of
former joys, so far from affording relief to the wretched, serves only
to embitter the present, as they feel that these joys have forever
passed away. But unless his lot be one of unusual calamity, as time
blunts the keenest edge of sorrow, he must be devoid of both philosophy
and religion, if he does not feel that life with a mere competence still
has many joys. It is unquestionably true that one's style of living has
not much to do with the sum of his happiness, though this is said with
no disposition to undervalue even the luxuries of life. So far from the
finest houses in a city having the greatest air of comfort about them, I
think rather the reverse is the case. No dwellings have a snugger look
than many of the plain, two-story houses in all our cities; no children
merrier than those that play around their doors; no manlier fathers than
those that struggle bravely for their support. One would suppose that
Stafford House, with its wealth of pictures and furniture, and its
beautiful views over Hyde Park, must contain much to add to the pleasure
of its possessors; but probably the sum of happiness enjoyed by this
noble family has been very little increased by these things. I believe
that palaces are more envied by 'outsiders' than enjoyed by their
owners. In proportion to the number of each, probably far more of those
dreadful tragedies that cast ineffaceable gloom over whole families,
have occurred in these splendid houses than in plainer ones. Our Fifth
Avenue, with all its grandeur, is one of the gloomiest looking streets
in the world, as strangers generally remark. But as all preaching is
vain against many a besetting sin, so will all the talking in the world
do little to convince men that happiness does not lie in externals. One
generation does not learn much from its predecessors in this respect; it
seems to have been intended that each should acquire its own experience.
The task of talking beforehand is therefore an unprofitable one; but it
is a satisfaction to feel that when much that is thought indispensable
has been taken from us, there still remains that which can afford us
happiness.

It is easy to recall instances in which it seemed as if adversity was
really required to bring out the noblest qualities in man, and enable
him to set an example calculated to console and stimulate those who are
treading the sometimes difficult path of duty. Portions of the diary of
Scott, written during the last and most troubled years of his life, have
for many a deeper interest than the most brilliant pages of his novels.
In these days of 'compromise,' which seems to be too often the cant term
for an eternal adieu to all previous obligations, no matter how just,
and no matter what good fortune the future may have in reserve for the
debtor, it is refreshing to read this record of perfect integrity and
long-continued sacrifice. Though carried, in his case, to a point beyond
the strictest requirements of honor, inasmuch as it involved the ruin of
his health, the example is noble and strengthening. It may be said, on
the other hand, that Scott was the possessor of a 'magic wand,' and did
right in attempting what to other men would be impossible. Carlyle, if I
remember his article, attributes Scott's conduct partly to worldly
pride, and thinks he should have owned at once that he had made a great
mistake, involving others in his ruin, and should have abandoned the
tremendous struggle still to bear up under such a weight. This is a
singular view of the matter, and one that a man of Scott's sense of
honor never would have felt satisfied in taking. The lives of Scott and
Charlotte Bronte are worth more than their novels, after all.

One of the minor evils of loss of fortune has, I think, been
exaggerated, and that is the idea that persons are frequently slighted,
sometimes even cut, by their fashionable acquaintances; and connected
with this is the other idea, that what some sneeringly call 'fashionable
society,' is generally more heartless than any other. For the honor of
human nature, I am glad to believe that the first is not the case, nor
does the second exactly stand to reason. In every city, there is a class
of persons, moneyed or not as the case may be, who, living only for
selfish enjoyment, pay court to those that can yield it to them, and are
sometimes rude enough to slight those who can not. Whether the
companionship of such persons is very desirable, or their loss much to
be deplored, each man must decide for himself. Persons who, when rich
themselves, have been overbearing to others, are perhaps those who
notice most difference when misfortunes overtake them. What is called
fashionable society, generally comprises a good deal of the education
and refinement of a city; with a portion of what is hollow and
worthless, it includes much that is substantial and true. Certainly, the
finer and more delicate feelings of our nature, and those which lead us
to sympathize with the unfortunate, are partly the result of education,
and we should naturally expect to find these in the higher rather than
in the humbler walks of life. There is a vast deal of genuine charity in
humble life, and the poor of every city derive a large part of their
support from those but moderately blessed with worldly goods themselves;
but many a well-meaning man will unintentionally make a remark that
wounds your feelings and makes you uncomfortable for hours afterwards,
while a person whose perceptions and sympathies have been more nicely
trained would spare you the infliction. A certain fortune is
indispensable to those who wish to keep with the party-going world, and
those who have not this competence can not indulge much in this more
expensive mode of life; but that they are forgotten is not because
persons wish to neglect them, but because men naturally forget those
they are not often in the habit of meeting. Might not the aged, even if
wealthy, say they are forgotten, excepting by their immediate
connection? They are forgotten because, in the rush and turmoil of life,
every thing is soon forgotten. The dead, who were beloved and honored
while living, are soon comparatively forgotten beyond their families and
familiar circle. This is not exactly owing to the heartlessness of men,
but rather to the fact that their minds are occupied with the persons
and things they see every day around them, and this is probably as much
the case with the poor as with the rich; but it seems to have become a
sort of custom to speak of the heartlessness of society. It is rather
owing to the imperfection of our constitution. Loss of fortune renders
us more sensitive, and we are apt to fancy slights where none were
intended; but we may be pretty certain that the better men and women of
society do not make money the index of their treatment of others.

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