The [Late Anti-Slavery] Meeting.

Sir—I [...]ply with the request of Dr. C[...] wishes for some explanation [ ] to his withdrawn Resolution[ ] Anti-Slavery Meeting, and [...]—with your perm[...] to submit the following:

I approve[d] Mr. Ryland's proposition, because it [...] in the spirit of the main. H[...] was designed to honor the[...] distinguished "by their [...] the institution of Slavery [...] it has hitherto received [...] of [illegible]"—the [...] did not approve of Dr. Carpenter's proposition, for the precise reason he reiterates in his letter of the 21st—that its words "'conscientious duty,' might be understood in more than one way." I had no objection in the world to include as many, of any other profession, beside the ministerial, as he could put in: heartily I thank and bless them all—who are doing any "hearty" work for the "good and noble end" of exorcising the demon of Slavery in the land which, but for it, might be the hope of the earth, and the beacon of liberty for the oppressed all over the world. But in proportion as I would thank and honor these, I shrank from associating with them and others whose deplorable view of "duty," however "conscientious," indisposed them to like heartiness of labor, and sustained them in their "mission of silence,"—nay, rather, caused them to thank God that, at the expense of the direst shame ever branded on the brow of a nation - the most sickening cruelty ever practiced in the face of the sun,—the Fugitive Slave Bill has been passed, and the poliitical repose of these "silent missionaries" for a few precarious years longer, maintained or promised by this masterstroke of statesmanship.

Dr. Carpenter knows to what and whom I allude. Mr. Estlin's reply to some captivating quotations which were heard at the

meeting, relieves me from the necessity of any further explanation, at least upon this point; and only impose on me the painful "duty", of assuring him that, sooner than have passed a Resolution which might, would, or could—however undesignedly—include such a party in my acknowledgments, my right hand should have dropped from my side or my tongue should have cleaved to the roof of my mouth.

This might be enough. I have no further "explanation" to offer that I much care about. But, perhaps, as I have the opportunity, I may be allowed to say a few words in reference to one or two other points introduced by Dr. Carpenter. He speaks of what is called the Free-soil party in America: some of whom deserve all honor—but a few of whom do not: which only further shows the equivocal tendency of the Resolution he would have asked the meeting to adopt. There are those who insisted on the "Free-soil" question, unconstitutionally. There are others who urged it in the way of compromise; and who for that concession, directly or indirectly gained, would give, and did give, to the south its Fugitive Slave Law; which law, I beg Dr. Carpenter to remember, leaves no part of the United States a "free-soil" at all; but has made them throughout what the Rev. F. Bishop truly and not too energetically described, "as one wide hunting-ground for the pursuit of Fugitive Slaves,"—and New England herself, in the editorial language of the Inquirer of the 14th ult.,—aye, New England herself—"slave-hunter to Georgia." Oh, Land of the Pilgrims—Oh, Children of the May-flower—Oh, descendants of the men too happy to escape from the persecution of the Stuart and his Land—"hide your diminished heads!"

Dr. Carpenter supposed (hypothetically at least) that I have changed, and "not changed for the better," in regard to my theory of moral duty. I am not conscious of the change. Whether for the better or worse, I long ago took up my code upon much reflection; and have not discovered any reason since for exchanging it for another. Some way there are moral institutions, interior lights, which are sufficient to guide men right—at least to show them the way they should go. Can this be the moral condition

of those who in America patronize Slavery, and its supplementary legislation, the Fugitive Slave Law? I presume not. If there be any divine intuitions of duty, they would probaly be the same in America and England; and I have yet to learn that the apologists of Slaveholding there find, at this day, their absolute counter part in any section of Society there. Others hold—myself among the number—that, while the sentiment of duty is original, and the same in all men's minds, the nature of the particular conduct which constitutes duty is, so to say, a varying quantity. Not the same in successive periods; in different countries; under different dispensations. Hence I argue that a man is responsible only in proportion to his light; and I find myself in agreement with Dr. Carpenter, that "a man fulfils his duty who does that which he honestly believes to be right!" Would that we could all say so much for ourselves! Wherein, then, do we differ? Just in this particular, that whereas, in the case of the man who has but little light, yet does his little; or, have false lights, may therefore do unspeakable evil—while I can pity the one, and respect the other—I cannot in the same degree respect, however I may pity, the man who, in the land where Lafayette fought, where Franklin legislated, where Channing wrote, and Lovejoy perished, can plead the "duty" of doing nothing, or doing worse—when the man whom God has created his equal, and endued with the right of "life, liberty, and the pursuit of happines," asks of him in vain for help—or for one strenuous word which might stay his pursuer, or save him from a misery worse than death! For that species of "duty," I do confess I am not one of those exquisitely good-nature people who can find it in my heart to profess "respect." Thuggee, in the mountain fastness of Thibet, I might find reason to palliate. There the throat and purse of the traveler are not only—as they deem it—the lawful, but the religious prize of the Heaven appealing fraternity. But Thuggee in the classic City of Boston; property in man by the side of the Declaration of Independence; the Fugitive Slave Bill to be met in "silence," or sanctioned by panegyrics on the man who passed it, in the City, nay the pulpit (horresco referens,) in which a Channing breathed and taught—this passes my comprehension, and I can hardly say in

how small a measure commands my "respect."

One last word more; and from this correspondence I desire to withdraw.

Some, with our late worthy Chairman, Dr. HuttonHutton, Joseph (1765-1856)

Father of Joseph Hutton (1790-1860). Arthur Hutton and Peter Coats Hutton, eds, Hutton Families, (1939), 138. ; and, doubtless, I may add, with Dr. Carpenter—in his dislike of "exclusion and denunciation,"—would take large liberty in "saying what they think of men's conduct"—or, as he afterwards expresses it, "of their words and deeds;" while "of the men themselves, they would forbear to judge." A good rule. Only, unluckily, in some circumstances, of peculiarly delicate and difficult application! Indeed, so nice it is, that one might resign it in despair to those who are accustomed, by the resources of their profession, to separate substances the most combined, or detect and catalogue distinctions the most minute. Surgery can do much; Chemistry more; while the School of Loyola can do miracles. Let them try their art in the following case:—Sir, your "words" are most abominable, your "deeds" are absolutely shocking; but we would not for the world "denounce." You had light—you had means—you had opportunity. You neglected them all. Your light you turned to darkness; you declined to use the means within your reach; when thou sawest a neighbor left for dead by thieves—you passed by on the other side. So unchristian—nay, so un-Samaritan—so inhuman was your conduct! But, mind, we do not "denounce." Your actions are, indeed, infamous—odious: but you do them, and they who do the like are doubtless, "honorable men—all honorable men!" Now we wish the objects of these nice distinctions—all the comforts they can give them; we would not take from them one particle of the "respect" they are calculated to inspire! And marvelling at the delicacy of the manipulation, only hope that in this curious process of separating the integument from the substance—the conduct of the man from the man himself—there may be as little as possible of laceration by the operator, and irritation in the patient.

[...] they may not be quite irrelevant,—I remain, very faithfully yours,

George ArmstrongArmstrong, George

Born to a wealthy family in Drogheda, Ireland, George Armstrong (1792–1857) attended Trinity College in Dublin. In 1815 he entered the Church of Ireland clergy and held a pulpit in Bangor, near Belfast. Armstrong publicly advocated both suffrage reform and Catholic Emancipation in numerous magazine articles. In the 1830s, Armstrong’s extensive reading and correspondence with American Unitarians, especially the Reverend William Ellery Channing, led him to adopt that faith. The young British and Foreign Unitarian Association found Armstrong a new congregation in Bristol, England, in 1838. Armstrong was an active public champion of the Unitarian faith and many liberal political causes, including the Anti–Corn Law League. His wife and daughter were frequent contributors of products to the Garrisonian Boston Anti-Slavery Bazaar. Robert Henderson, A Memoir of the Late Reverend George Armstrong (London, 1859); Turley, “British Unitarian Abolitionists,” 59. .