. 75W???“f’gnlfliwr’fwwzg_.f.J£-,.y3::14a . o;p:.j2,k'o~.v.:. ,3'n;oj,:.:,......l .310 I T " .."'.""". ,"'¢a‘- “Z ‘ ‘-'_ i. '.. . V £!""H. ' l‘ 'v'I‘...‘E.‘$"e "'N'." " ". -“l" I v ‘. ,1. ASTUDYOFORANGESCOTTANDTHE TRUE WESLEYAN, 1843 - 1847, AS RELATED TO THE ABOUTIONIST MOVEMENT Thesis for the Degree of M. A. MICHIGAN STATE UNIVERSITY CHARLES ALLEN LYONS 1974 TM NWT TAN W 3 12930 LEVEESI_J RETURNING MATERIALS: PIace in book drop to LIBRARIES remove this checkout from —:-—. your record. FINES will be charged if book is returned after the date stamped beIow. rmcza‘ ABSTRACT A STUDY OF ORANGE SCOTT AND THE TRUE WESLEYAN, 1843-T847, AS RELATED TO THE ABOLITIONIST MOVEMENT By Charles Allen Lyons The major thrust of this study is an examination of the True Wesleyan, a weekly newspaper of dissidents of the Methodist Episcopal Church, to judge whether or not it qualified as a legiti- mate representative of abolitionist journalism in the nineteenth century. While the writer researched the paper through the Civil War, this study is limited to the years l843 to 1847. In chapter one a perspective on the development of both the religious press and the abolitionist journalism in America during the early 1800's is provided. The True Wesleyan was rooted in both of thesehjour- nalistic phenomena. The discussions of these two phenomena are helpful in gaining an overview, particularly of the religious press of which there is very little resource material available. The study mover in chapter two to a contemporary definition of aboli- tionism, clarifying its distinction within the antislavery movement. In chapter three the writer introduces a principle character of the study, Orange Scott. An overview of Scott's life, leading up to the point of his launching the True Wesleyan in l843 is provided. Charles Allen Lyons Scott is shown to be a true abolitionist who revolted against the proslavery forces of the Methodist Episcopal Church and a popular leader within the American Anti-Slavery Society. The fourth chapter focuses in part on Scott's role as an abolitionist journalist, and in great measure on the True Wesleyan as an abolitionist newspaper. Using the documentary and analytical methods of historical research, the study demonstrates the commitment of the True Wesleyan to abolitionism in the printing of large amounts of antislavery news, features, and opinion articles. The study reports the radical abolitionist opinions of Scott stated in the columns of the paper-- opinions which did not make him popular as an abolitionist journalist, but which were consistent with his passionate belief in the cause of human freedom and equality. 6 [/77015 A STUDY OF ORANGE SCOTT AND THE TRUE WESLEYAN, 1843-T847, AS RELATED TO THE ABOLITIONIST MOVEMENT By Charles Allen Lyons A THESIS Submitted to Michigan State University in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the degree of MASTER OF ARTS School of Journalism 1974 Accepted by the faculty of the School of Journalism, College of Communication Arts, Michigan State University, in partial fulfillment of the requirements for the Master of Arts degree. LU. GWW Director of Thesis ' ACKNOWLEDGMENTS Grateful acknowledgment is given to David R. Warriner, Ph.D. candidate (Indiana University), for his suggestions on estab- lishing an accurate definition of an abolitionist; to P. W. Thomas, Director of Archives, The Wesleyan Church, Marion, Indiana, whose f. sensitivity to the importance -. preserving historical documents has made available many valuable materials vital to the rich heri- tage of that church; and to '. "é‘ereu Meyers, Ph.D., associate professor, School of Journalism, Michigan State University, who not only has commendable ability to inspire, direct, and critique the student undertaking scholarly work, but who also possesses a genuine concern for the total life of the student. Finally, no married graduate student completes a program without substantial sacrifices by his family. Special thanks to Lana (my wife) and Shani and Jodi. TABLE OF CONTENTS Chapter Page INTRODUCTION . . . . ..................... l I. ABOLITIONISM AND THE PRESS ......... . ..... 3 II. DEFINING AN ABOLITIONIST . . .............. 19 III, ORANGE SCOTT AND ABOLITIONISM . . ..... . ..... 34 IV. TRUE WESLEYAN: AN ABOLITIONIST PAPER, 1843-1847 . . . . 58 V. CONCLUSION ....................... 85 BIBLIOGRAPHY ..... . ................. . 90 iv INTRODUCTION An important part of the struggle by abolitionists to elimi- nate human slavery from American soil was abolitionist journalism. This unique form of the American press was born early in the nine- teenth century and remained alive in some shape or form until the end of the Civil War. All kinds of publications espoused the cause of abolitionism. Among them was the True Wesleyan, a weekly religious newspaper founded in Boston, Massachusetts, in I843. The Irgg_ Wesleyan was not exclusively an abolitionist publication, since it also played a vital part in the formation of the Wesleyan Methodist Church. But this study demonstrates that the antislavery cause was an overwhelming concern of the editors of the True Wesleyan and received much attention in the columns and pages of the newspaper. Relying on documentary and analytical methods of historical research, this study endeavors to show the tone and degree of involve- ment of the True Wesleyan in the abolitionist movement, confined to the years l843 to l847, with the earlier date representing the found- ing of the True Wesleyan and the later date, the death of Orange Scott, the man who founded the paper and established its guiding principles. A look at two journalistic phenomena of the early 1800's-- abolitionist journalism and the religious press--gives a perspective of the broader heritage of the True Wesleyan. A careful discussion of an abolitionist nrcvides a definition essential to iudcinc the abolitionist sentiment of the naner. find, a consideration of Cranfe Scott as a significant ficure in the abolitionist movement, and an examination of some of the antislavery events of the Methodist Episcopal Church offers insicht not only into the man who so creatly influenced the course of the True Veslevan, but the circumstances which led to the founding of the naner. The ke" dart of the stuiv is an analysis a? the treatrent c“ the issue cf slavery durinc this ner'cd c” l‘41~l"n7 sy the True ”esleyan. News coverace of the issue and the editerial attitude cf the Water are examined. It is here the st 69 attew“ts to uncover the de‘ree to rhich the True Tesle"an was cornitted to the cause of ibcliticnisn, and the tone ant rethnfi it enslaved in fulfilling that d. cr~witmen Finally, the study nfiers a discussion of the findinss as they relate to the True “eslefin in its role is an abolitionist "3‘82". CHAPTER I ABOLITIONISM AND THE PRESS During the early part of the nineteenth century, there grew out of the American version of humanitarianism a great movement that took as its purpose the abolition of human slavery from United States soil. Abolitionism was only one of many social reforms that sprang up during this period. But it was, perhaps, the most penetrating issue of the day; for it had a broad effect on American life and such established institutions as government, the church, higher education, and most of all, slavery. Like many reforms in their beginnings, abolitionism met stern resistance. To be an abolitionist in the Short meant to accept public scorn and possible imprisonment.1 In the North, during the l830's and l840's, identification with the movement brought social 2 castigation. Only in the years immediately prior to and during 1It was a prison offence in 1859 in some Southern states merely to subscribe to an abolitionist paper. See Clement Eaton, "The Freedom of the Press in the Upper South," Mississippi Valley Historical Review, XVIII (March, l932), 479 and W. Sherman Savage, The Controversy over the Distribution of Abolition Literature, l830-1860 (Jefferson City, Mo.: Association forithe Study of Negro Life and History, 1938). 2For example, Hilary A. Herbert writes in The Abolition Crusade and Its Consequences; Four Periods of American History_(New York: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1912), p. 63, that at a meeting of a number of elite persons in Boston on August 3, 1835, a resolution was passed opposing abolitionism. These elite persons blamed abolitionists for the threat of slave rebellion in the South. Actually, Savage notes in Controvery over literature, p. xiii and p. l25 that the greater the Civil War did nooular surncrt in the forth swine behind the antislavery cause. Desoite this oopositicn, however, the number of antislavery supporters in the Hcrth swelled durinr the 1630's and 1840's. The movement was still years away from raining the support of the masses in the nation. But, spurred by clercymen, poets, philosophers, zealots, crusaders and reformers, it gradually made inroads into the public conscience. By 1340 several hundred antislavery societies were formed with estimates of the number of members runninc upward from 200,000 eersons.3 Fublicatio.s if these societies claimed nearly one million readers.£ One means the abolitionists had of cainin: support was the press. Although the press in general was slow in warminn up to the I r O O antislavery cause,° the antislavery leaders were eu1ck to see the part of the abolitionists were against such action, particularly in the 1830's when they were considered "mild." Even William Lloyd Garrison, one of the most uncompromising fees of slavery, condemned the paper Aooeal, published by David Walker, which in 1829 urged the slaves to revolt. 3Savace estimates that in 1037 alone there were 433 societies formed for a total of 1,000 (n. 92). Herbert states that there were 200 societies formed by 1340, with a total of 200,000 members (a. 93). His is the most conservative report. Albert Bushnell Hart says in Slavery and Abolition, 1831~1941 (flew York: Negro Universities Press, 1966), o. 84, that there were 200 socieites in 1335 and 503 in 1836. While the statistics vary, evidence from these and other sources indicate that between the mid-1330's and 1850 the number of abolitionists nrew substantially. 4 . Savage, Controversv over Literature. f. 13. I 5 . . . . . . H . . . Asa Earl Martin, ”Pioneer Antiuflaverv Tress,L HiSSissiooi Valley Historical Review, II (March, 1916), 509. print medium as a powerful tool for affecting public opinion.6 A wide range of antislavery newspapers was assembled by various "societies“ and beyond that, and perhaps most noteworthy, there developed a number of independent abolitionist publications whose personalities were primarily a reflection of their editors, who generally were their founders and owners. These papers ranged in scope from the fiery, belligerent blasts of William Lloyd Garrison in the Liberator to the more subdued, but nonetheless persuasive pleas of the Genius of Universal Emancipation,.edited by a gentle Quaker, Benjamin Lundy. One newspaper that had its beginning in this era and that was caught up in the fervor of abolitionist journalism was the True Wesleyan. Today, the True Wesleyan is a religious magazine named the Wesleyan Advocate, the main organ of the Wesleyan Church. The publication has a history that spans 130 years and is somewhat unusual in that it was founded (in 1843) at a time when two forms of American journalism-~abolitionist journalism and the religious press--were developing into powerful and popular means of communi- cation. The True Wesleyan was clearly a mixture of these two kinds of journalism. Abolitionist journalism had a timely beginning in America for at least two reasons. 6Savage notes that "In the first annual report of the American Anti-Slavery Society (in 1834) the committee on publicity insisted that the press was one of the most powerful agencies of reform and said that the society has made as much use of it as possible.‘I First, it developed at a point in history when there was public interest in reform movements and when reform journalism was already established. Reform journalism . . . appeared at the culmination of several social developments which played significant roles in shaping its character. One of these was the wave of humanitarian reform, including peace, temperance, and women's rights, which, having already established a tradition of reform journalism and a public interest in reform movements, provided additional substance, moral support, c00peration, and journalistic example to those interested in crusading against slavery. Three other traditions which aided in shaping anti-slavery journalism concerned the development of the press in the eighteenth century. The first was the tradition of freedom of expression, a freedom established in the colonial period, guaranteed by the Constitution, and severely tested by the Alien and Sedition Acts. The second was the tradition of agressive, partisan journalistic practices which evolved from the bitter political controversies accompany- ing the growth of the new republic. An established tradition of propagandistic journalism was the third. Newspapers and maga- zines, rather than pamphlets, came to be recognized after the American Revolution as effective media for influencing public opinion.7 Secondly, American journalism in general was on the brink of experiencing tremendous growth and of becoming a well-accepted part of American life. For various reasons, the young nation lacked any real literary quality as the nineteenth century was ushered in: (1) the new nation was occupied with business, industry, and politics, (2) the nation had a defective system of college education and lacked competition in scholarship, (3) there was a paucity of rewards for authors; payment for articles was practically unknown in America 7 ., ' Joseph A. Del Porto, "A Study of American Anti-Slavery Journals" (unpublished Ph.D. dissertation, Michigan State Univer- sity, 1954), p. 36. until 1819, (4) books were scarce and difficult to procur, and (5) the new nation lacked a peculiar language.8 However, as America had thrown off the shackles of poli- tical subservience to England, it struggled likewise for literary independence. Magazines, known through the first two decades of the 1800's for their short lives, small circulations, and "large borrowings" from English and other sources, began to know greater acceptance in America because of the "insistent demand for a pecu— liarly American literature." Especially in the 1820's was there an increase in the number of magazines overall; and there also developed a number of class periodicals and weekly magazines. These publications numbered in the hundreds by the 1830's and steadily increased, particularly in the areas of religion and politics. By 1860, they totaled more than a thousand.9 Although magazines were experiencing increased popularity, the American reader's real literary interest in the first half of the nineteenth century was dominated by his "fondness for news- papers." The first daily newspaper in America, the Pennsylvania Evening Post, was published in 1783 by Benjamin Towne. By 1800, most big ports and commercial centers were supporting daily papers.10 The number of newspapers reached 1,200 by 1833 and by 1860 had 8Frank Luther Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741- 1850, I(Néw York: 0. Appleton and Co., 1930), 13, 14, l . 91bid., 210. 10Edwin Emery, The Press and America: An Interpretive History of Journalism (2nd ed., Englewood'Cliffs, N.J.: Prentice- Hall, 1962), p. 173. mushroomed to 3,000, of which approximately 10 per cent were dailies.” The increased population of the country--it had expanded about two and one-third times its size--contributed to the growth of both magazines and newspapers. Concurrent with this growth were the development of public education, which produced a nation of readers--inc1uding women who were a prime audience of some editors-- and a greater interest in public affairs encouraged by the democra- tic politicalsystem.12 One of the most influential factors in the growth of American journalism at this time was a cheaper press. An epoch in American journalism began on September 3, 1833, when Benjamin H. Day printed the New York Sun, the successful pioneer of the penny press.13 Spurred by mechanical improvements in presses and paper- making machinery in the Age of Steam, and aided by lower postal rates, newspaper publishers could now afford to make their news- paper available to a large portion of the population that hitherto could not afford them.14 The penny press developed at a point nFrank Luther Mott, American Journalism: A History of Newspapers in the United States Throu h 250 Years,71690 to 1940. (New York: Macmillan Co., 1941), p. 16. 12 13These papers were called the penny press because one issue sold for one penny, says Emery, The Press and America, p. 217. There were other similar ventures, but none as successful as the Sun, which built up a circulation of 8,000 readers in six months. Ibid.. pp. 303-04. 14Del Porto, "Study of Anti-Slavery Journals," p. 37. when the common man--the laboring c1ass--had begun to rise politi- cally and socially under Jacksonian democracy. The press recognized "the common man on the communications level. The working man had already won the right to vote. Now the penny papers could reach out to him as no other medium could."15 It was this direct line to the heart of the American masses--at a bearable cost--that made the print medium attractive to reform journalists. Abolitionists were among the reformers who capitalized on this opportune moment in history. They made great strides in establishing in the 1820's a press that flourished in the next decade when "antislavery papers appeared in rapid suc- cession."16 Classified in the category of the abolitionist press were those newspapers and periodicals of limited, general circula- tion; produced by mechanical means (to distinguish them from hand- written "newes letters"); whose columns and pages appealed to a specific readership of ordinary literary skill and whose contents ranged from the rational to the emotional, usually relying on religious persuasion; whose periodicity frequently was erratic;17 and whose editors were motivated by an abiding concern for abolition. 15 16 17Eric w. Allen, "International Origins of the News— papers: The Establishment of Periodicity in Print," Journalism Quarterly, VII (December, 1930), 314. Emery, The Press and America, p. 217. Martin, "Pioneer Anti-Slavery Press," p. 527. 10 The beginning of abolitionist journalism is generally set at 1817. In that year in Mt. Pleasant, Ohio, Charles Osburn, a Quaker minister who is regarded by most journalism historians as the first abolitionist editor of significance, launched the Philan: throgist, a "weekly newspaper of religious tone intended . . . to aid in the campaign then being waged by the reformers against three national evils: war, slavery, and intemperance."18 Osburn's asso- ciate editor and agent was Benjamin Lundy, who later became dis- enchanted with the Philanthropjst when it changed ownership from Osburn to Elisha Bates in 1818, and who established his own Genius of Universal Emancipation in 1821 in Mt. Pleasant, Ohio. Actually, Lundy had planned to settle his family in Illinois after Bates took control of the Philanthropist, but he was disenchanted with Bates "19 because he "did not come up to his standard of anti-slavery. Lundy delayed starting the Genius partly because Elihu Embree, another Quaker minister who had a fervent zeal for abolition- ism, had started, with the support of the Manumission Society of Tennessee, the Manumission Intelligence in Jonesborough, Tennessee, in 1819. In 1820, its name was changed to the Emancipator. Embree died suddenly on December 12, 1820. Lundy then felt it necessary to begin publishing the Genius of Universal Emancipation to give the abolitionist cause the kind of voice he believed it should have. 18Martin, "Pioneer Anti-Slavery Press," p. 511. 19Thomas Earle, Life of Benjamin Lundy (Philadelphia, 1847), quoted in Martin, "PioneerIAnti-Slavery Press," p. 520. 11 Many of the early abolitionist papers that appeared prior to 1832 were located either in the southern or border states. They were mild in tone and philoSOphy, especially compared to the abrasive, confronting style of Garrison's Liberator, first published in 1831. Historians traditionally give Garrison primary consideration in any discussion of the abolitionist press. There were an estimated 100 other antislavery papers being published, however, by 1838 that attracted growing support for the antislavery cause.20 Among these were eleven publications of the American Anti-Slavery Society, a movement most popular in New England, which issued more than one million copies from its presses throughout the North and South in 1836.21 This was the time, the 1830's, when abolitionist journalism became of age. From this decade until the end of the Civil War, it sustained a steady influence in steering America away from a course of human slavery. Very similar to the development of the abolitionist press was that of religious journalism, maturing during the first half of the nineteenth century when the awakened nation of readers looked 20There is no official record of the number of antislavery papers at this time. However, this estimate was made in 1838 in cor— respondence by James G. Birney, an active abolitionist and a secretary for the American Anti-Slavery Society in New York. It does not seem to be out of line with information provided by other sources. The estimate is cited in Martin's "Pioneer Anti-Slavery Press," p. 527. 21The publications were mailed to all parts of America, including the South, at no charge. This angered some southern leaders who protested the use of the federal postal system to deliver such "propaganda" notes Savage in Controversy over Literature, p. 13. 12 beyond making a living to building a civilization. Basically, many of the factors--previously mentioned in this chapter-~that figured into the deve10pment of abolitionist journalism contributed to the shaping of the religious press. The development of the religious press was another example of coming to fruition at the right point in history. Religious journalism in America grew out of an eighteenth century press that printed pamphlets, tracts, and books, stressing the "Christian message and movement as a whole rather than furthering any denominational interest." Many of these writings came from the pens of the early Puritan clergy of New England who discussed "heavy doctrinal subjects as original sin and eternal damnation with holy vehemence." There was no "distinctly religious periodical" published in the Colonies until 1743 when the Reverend Thomas Prince of Boston established Christian History, a weekly "that provided accounts of the Great Awakening of New England (1742-1743) and the propagation of religion in Great Britain and America."22 Between 1743 and 1794 only four other religious periodicals were published.23 22Carl F. H. Henry, Successful Church Publicity, A Guidebook for Christian Publicists (Grand Rapids, Mich.: Zondervan Publishing House, 1943), pp. 33-34, 36. 23Mott writes in A History of American Magazine, 1741-1850, that these four periodicals were: Royal Spiritual Magazine,,Arminian Magazine, Christian's, Scholar's, and Farmer's Magazine, and Free Universal Magazine. Of these, the Arminian Ma azine was the first sectarian magazine, published for two years (1 89- 90) in Philadel- phia by Methodist BishOp Cokes and Asbury (pp. 13-35, passim). l3 Secular newspapers and magazines in the eighteenth century gave much space to Christianity and its implications. "Religion fur- nished an important part of magazine contents. Most of the early magazines published sermons occasionally in some guise or other, and 24 This secular a few were devoted largely to homiletical literature." avenue provided an outlet of expression for "many talented clergymen." Along with the substantial amount of religious literature (books and pamphlets) in circulation, there was little need for any expansion or modification of the religious press. Like abolitionist journalism, timing was important in the sudden burst of religious publications in the nineteenth century. Having waged its own Revolutionary War and having felt in part the effects of the French Revolution, America entered the 1800's at a 25 But low point in the moral and religious life of the nation. early in the new century religious revivals began springing up throughout the nation, penetrating the American culture and lending influence to the spirit of social reform.26 The church moved forward in America, but in a way different from that of the eighteenth cen- tury as "denominational trunk lines of organization spread across the continent to gather up loosely scattered congregations into more strictly sectarian movements."27 24Ibid., p. 56. 25William Warren Sweet, The Sto:y_of Religion in America (2nd rev. ed.; New York: Harper and Brothers, 1950). p. 3221 26Timothy L. Smith, Revivalism and Social Reform in Mid- 19th Century America (New York: Abingdon Press, 1957), passim. 27Henry Kalloch Rowe, The History of Religion in the United States, quoted in Henry, Successfu1 Church PUBlicity, p. 43} 14 Church leaders, looking for an effective way to interpret the church to its constituency, turned to the press.28 Religious leaders also saw nineteenth century journalism as a means of promot- ing a "spiritual awakening" in the nation.29 Religious magazines became successful ventures for several reasons, including: (1) the surge of interest in religion, (2) the economic feasability of producing a publication, (3) the "half-hearted" boost given magazines by the U.S. postal statute of 1794 that allowed them to be mailed under certain conditions, and (4) the general refin- ing of the taste of Americans toward the reading of periodicals.30 Still another reason for the explosion of the religious press was the "proliferation of competitive groups which led to the radical increase in the number of religious periodicals, most of them protestant, because Catholicism was a negligible minority in the early part of the century, and Judaism was hardly represented." These periodicals were for the most part "polemic and proselytizing in character, tending to downgrade other Christian denominations" and to wage long battles over religious vieWpoints.3] 28Roland E. Wolseley, The Magazine World: An Introduction to Magazine Journalism (New York: Prentice-Hall,’1952), p. 100. 29Henry, Successful Church Publicity, p. 42. 30Mott, A History of American Magazines,,l741-1851, I, 13-35 and Henry, Successful Church Publicity, 29-73, passim. 31Martin E. Marty, et al. "The Protestant Press: Limita- tions and Possibilities," The Religious Press in America (New York: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1963), p. 40. 15 By the middle of the century, the American reading public was being saturated by the religious press. "Every denomination had its publication and usually a full complement of theological quar- terly, home monthly and regional weekly publications."32 In 1840, "three quarters of the reading material of Americans was definitely religious."33 By 1885, the number of religious magazines had risen to more than 650. This did not include another phenomenon of the religious press, the religious newspaper, of which there were 208 in circulation in 1870.34 Religious newspapers were similar in appearance to the secular weekly press in the early 1800's, and, in fact, competed with these newspapers. They [religious newspaperSJ gathered news regularly, maintained correspondents in other cities, and covered secular as well as sectarian happenings. They depended somewhat upon news and gossip of various church societies, well known religious leaders, and current ecclesiastical movements; but their chief points of difference from the secular papers were in political neutrality, in editorial discussions of church polity, in the use of more religious and denominational news, and in the employment of literary miscellany chiefly of a religious cast. The date of the establishment of the first religious news- paper has been a point of controversy in the history of the religious press. In 1872, the controversy appeared in the columns of the Boston 32Mott, A History of American Magazinesy;1850-1865, II, 60. 33Benjamin P. Browne, Christian Journalism for Todey (Philadelphia: Judson Press, 1962), p. 14. 34Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1865-1885,-III, 66. 35Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741-1851, I, 137. 16 Evening Post. The sons of Nathaniel Willis and Sidney Edwards Morse both gave evidende that each of their fathers was the "father of religious journalism" by virtue of Willis' role as publisher and Morse's role as editor of what was believed by many at the time to be the first religious newspaper, the Boston Recorder, first published in 1816 in Boston. Their discussions, however, brought a letter from "The Gymnasium and Library Association" of Chillicothe, Ohio, assert- ing that John Andrews had printed from 1814 to 1817 in that city the Recorder, the first religious newspaper ever published in "this country or the world."36 Actually, the research of the late Frank Luther Mott, dis- tinguished journalism historian, unveiled even an earlier religious newspaper, the Herald of Gospel Liberty, founded in 1808 in Portsmouth, New Hampshire, by Elias Smith. Its Opening address on September 1, 1808, observed. "A religious newspaper is almost a new thing under the sun; I know not but this is the first ever published to the world."37 Regardless of who is credited for starting the religious newspapers, by 1823 the Methodist Megazine was complaining that they were "a phenomenon not many years since, but now the groaning press throws them out in almost every direction."38 The sectarian nature of the religious press was a catalyst for "throwing out" the papers. By 1828, the Hopkinsian noted that sixty-seven weeklies were divided among 36Frederic Hudson, Journalism in the United States from 1690 to 1872 (New York: Harper and Brothers, 1873), pp. 289-95. 37Elias Smith, Herald Gospel of Liberty. quoted in Mott, A History of American Magazines,~ -18 , I, . 38Methodist Magazine, quoted in Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741-1851, I, 136. war ~-‘ '9‘! " lr....’a ..n.. .L:.lh..‘l_-I>HNI._! 17 at least twelve different religious groups that sought to declare their distinctions and to give "frequent emphasis" of the gospel, particularly in areas where there was no pulpit or preacher.39 Although different in appearance, the religious newspapers were similar to magazines in content because of the large amount of attention given to general articles and miscellany. A typical reli- gious newspaper is described as printing "contributed articles and miscellaney on its first large page, editorials and correspondence from news centers on its third, and family reading, poetry, and sometimes advertising on its fourth."40 Even some of the abolitionist publications, no doubt, could have been accurately defined as magazines since the term in the eigh- teenth and early nineteenth centuries "had to do with contents and not with format."4] (Eventually, the definitions of a magazine and newspaper included both format and content.) A publication could take the form of a "proper newspaper" with no stapling, stitching 42 and folio in size,43 but carry a wide variety of content 44 Of‘ COVEY‘ or a storehouse of material that classified it as a magazine. 39These groups included the following: Presbyterian, Calvinis- tic Baptist, Universalist, Congregationalist, Christian Universal Baptist, Methodist, Episcopalians, Free Will Baptist, Unitarian, Friends, Anti-Missionary, and Roman Catholic, notes Henry in Success- ful Church Publicity, p. 48. 40Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741-1851, I, 137. 41Wolse1ey, The Magazine World, p. 8. 42 Mott, A History of American Magazines, 1741-1851, I, 8. 43Hudson, Journalism in the United States,~p. 293. 44 Wolseley, The Magazine World, p. 8. 18 This was the case with the publication under consideration in this study. At first glance, the True Wesleyan appears to be a newSpaper, being loosely bound and folio in size. But its mixture of abolitionist and religious news with a heavy concentration of miscellany makes it difficult to define. Indeed, it was an example: of both the religious and abolitionist newspapers of the 1840's. But the fact that over the years its format changed to a smaller, bound volume and now appears wholly as a magazine, makes it difficult to altogether exclude the label of magazine from its heritage. During the course of this study, references to the Tree. Wesleyan are limited to the following terms: (1) a "paper" because it was "a publication without stapling, stitching, or cover," (2) a "publication" because it was an "issue of the press," and (3) a "periodical" because it did possess periodicity.45 45Mott, A History of American Magazinesgjl741-1851, I, 5-8. CHAPTER II DEFINING AN ABOLITIONIST Abolitionists have been viewed in many ways by historians of their own day, and by scholars of today whose interests, some believe, have been aroused by the civil rights movement of the 1960's. The national historians writing after the Civil War were inclined to view the abolitionists as moral heroes. But by the 1930's and 1940's a near reversal in attitude had taken place. The revisionists, focusing on Civil War causation, then portrayed them as having been destructive in their effect. Abolitionists were condemned in revisionist writings as fanatics whose agita- tions had brought about a needless war. By the 1960's historians for the most part had abandoned a methodical search for the causes of the Civil War, and along with it the effort to measure abolitionist responsibility for the events preceding it.1 ~u.‘ This changing perspective of the abolitionists, with its focus shifting from their relationship to the Civil War to their Concern with race, prejudice, and justice, gave the abolitionists new impor- tance. Their parallel to the "New Abolitionists" of the modern civil rights movement made the programs, tactics, and frame of mind of the nineteenth century reformers more comprehensible. It is not surpris- ing then that the largest part of the writings today--and, in fact, since l959--"express sympathy for both the aims and the style of abolitionists."2 1Merton L. Dillon, "The Abolitionists: A Decade of Historio- graphy, 1959-1969," Journal of Southern History, XXXV (November, 1969), 500. ” 2Ibid., 601. 19 20 Yet while abolitionists are being treated more favorably today and have become a popular subject for research, there remains a need for more intense study of their individual characteristics, motives, strategies and philosophies. The tendency has been to group a large number of nineteenth century figures under the label of "abo- litionists" without careful analysis of who they were, what they did, what they believed, and to what degree they were willing to demon- strate their belief. There is the stereotype that has emerged of the "abolitionist personality" to which many historians have assigned a group of "similar traits" which are said to characterize all abolitionists: "impractical," "self-righteous," "fanatical," "humorless," "vituperative," and--if they are very modern in their terminology--"disturbed."3 The distinctive characteristics of individual abolitionists have not been examined closely enough and "what tOO many historians~ have done is to take William Lloyd Garrison as a personality symbol for the entire movement," latched on to some of the undeniably "neurotic" aspects of his personality, and equated these with the personality structures of all the abolitionists.4 Likewise, the term "abolitionist" has been too loosely assigned to historical persons without due consideration given to their distinct viewpoints and their degree of commitment and involvement in the 3Martin B. Duberman, "The Abolitionists and Psychology," Journal of Negro History, XLVII (July, 1962), 184. 4Ibid., p. 185. 21 abolitionist movement. As history moved away from the pre-Civil War years of agitation, the ability to distinguish those who had actively participated in the abolitionist movement from those who had not, became increasingly difficult.5 Complicating the problem of identi- fying the true supporters of the abolitionist cause has been a hazard that many scholars try to avoid, that of failure to distinguish between persons who were Opposed to slavery in an abstract sort of way for a variety of reasons from those who were actually involved in the abol- itionist movement. The abolition of slavery was only the most significant of a number of events that worked to modify the contemporary defini- tion of an abolitionist. The term's meaning not only changed with the passage of time, but it was always highly subjective, carrying difgerent connotations with different groups and even individuals. Indeed, among the men of the pre-Civil War period there was disagreement as to who was an abolitionist. The movement harbored "a great variety of abolitionist positions on nearly every question growing out of their concern for reform. . . . And the passage of time brought greater divisiveness. . . ."7 There was conflict over immediatism and gradualism, equality of blacks and whites, women's 5James M. McPherson notes in The Struggle for Egpality: Abolitionists and the Negro in the Civil War and-Reconstruction (Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1964), p. vii, that after the outbreak of the Civil War abolitionists were transformed almost overnight from despised fanatics to influential and respected spokesmen for the radical wing of the Republican party. Other sources also indicate that many persons who were far removed from the true abolitionist movements when it was socially unacceptable, identified themselves with it after the Civil War--even to the point of paying to have their names added to old record books. 6Larry Gara, "Who Was An Abolitionist?" The Antislavery Vanguard: New Essays on the Abolitionists, ed. by Martin Duberman (Princeton, N. J.: Princeton UhiversityTPress, 1965), p. 32. 7 Ibid., p. 34. 22 rights, political action, active assistance to fugitive slaves, racial prejudice, and other issues. There arose "Garrisonian abolitionists and anti-Garrisonian abolitionists--but to the Garrisonians the anti- Garrisonians were not abolitionists at all."8 One definition of an abolitionist that has emerged today suggests that abolitionists should be judged by their commitment to and agitation for "immediate, unconditional, and universal abolition of slavery in the United States."9 There is merit in this kind of definition because it boils away some of the extraneous issues that created division and confusion in the antislavery movement. It establishes definitive criteria according to an individual's view toward the abolition of slavery and his commitment to agitation for it. This definition, no doubt, would incorporate Louis Filler's "mark of the true antislavery reformer . . . with his compulsion to probe, to question, and to agitate.“10 Because this writer believes that this definition, however, can become an umbrella for persons who may not reflect the spirit of true abolitionism, an additional criterion is introduced. This is the 11 issue of racial equality. Perhaps no other issue more clearly 8c. s. Griffin, The ferment of Reform, 1830-1860 (New York: Thomas V. Crowell Company, 1967), p. 85. 9McPherson, Struggle for Equalipy, p. 3. 'OLoois Filler, The Crusade Against Slavery, 1830-1860 (New York: Harper and Rowjgl960), p. 28. 11It should be noted that although McPherSon does not include the issue of racial equality as part of his definition for an aboli- tionist, his work does give the pr0per attention to the issue. 23 distinguishes the real abolitionists from a multitude of persons with antislavery sentiment. The issue can stand as the ultimate yardstick in identifying genuine abolitionists because it measures antislavery figures on the basis of not whether they were against slavery, but if also they were for the equality of blacks. Surprisingly, this cri- terion whittles a large number of so-called "abolitionists" out of what has been labeled the “radical" segment of the antislavery movement. The criterion becomes especially significant in light of modern day research of primary sources that is demonstrating that a prostion of racial prejudice existed in the North among laborers, within the . federal government, in political parties, in education, in business, and even among the abolitionists. The issue of racial prejudice, its relationship to the abolitionist movement and northern society, is still unfolding. The origin of racial prejudice itself has not yet been firmly established. It has been most p0pu1ar, and seemingly natural, to tie racial pre- judice to slavery with sort of a cause-and-effect connection. Tocque- ville did it more than a century ago and "more modern observers of the American past have also stressed this causal connection between the institution of slavery and the color prejudice of America."]2 There are those, however, who question this connection and consider the real possibility that b1acks--who were introduced to the English colonies forty years before slavery--were actually never treated as an equal 12Carl Degler, "Slavery and the Genesis of American Race Prejgdice," Comparative Studies in Society and History, II (October, 1959 , 49. 24 of the white man, whether servant or free. Historian Carl Degler argues that . . . the status of the Negro in the English colonies was worked out within a framework of discrimination; that from the outset, as far as the available evidence tells us, the Negro was treated as an inferior to the white man, servant or free. If this be true, then it would follow that as slavery evolved as a legal status, it reflected and included as a part of its essence, this same discrimination which white men had practiced.§gainst the Negro all along and before any status decreed it.1 Whatever its origin, Leon F. Litwack and other contemporary historians have demonstrated that the abolitionist who was committed to fighting against slavery and for equality did so in a fermenting climate of racial prejudice in the North. "Discrimination against the Negro and a firmly held belief in the superiority of the white race were not restricted to one section but were shared by an overwhelming majority of white Americans in both the North and the South."14 The Negro was expected by the "average white man to acquiesce in the racial status quo and act the clownish, childish, carefree, irresponsible Uncle Tom that whites had long presumed him to be."‘5 Critics and defenders of the Southern slave system asked, How . . . could the North so glibly condemn slavery when it worked free Negroes severely in menial employments, excluded them from the polls, the juries, the churches, and the learned professions, snubbed them in social circles, and finally even 13Ibid., p. 52. 14Leon F. Litwack, North of Slavery: The Negro in the Free States, 1790-1860 (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1961), p. v11. 15Leon F. Litwack, "The Emancipation of the Negro Abolitionist," Antislavery Vanguard, ed. by Duberman, p. 139. 25 'barred them from entering some states? Did not northerners place the Negrolgn a much higher scale by their rhetoric than by their practice? The question was valid. And the abolitionists--that is, the kind of abolitionists that fit the criterion and description being set forth in this study--responded to 'it. By means of pulpit and pulp, they argued and propagandized against northern racism. They confronted the common laborer--many of them immigrants--who feared job competition. White laborers, both North and South, believed that emancipation would throw them into competition with an enormous supply of Negro labor. Unskilled labor was already conscious of the growing numbers of Negroes in the cities. Colonizationists played upon these fears constantly, not only intensifying race hatred among a poorly educated elass, but increasing their unreasoned opposition to emancipation. 7 Further entrenching the prejudice of the laborer in the South was the stigma attached to physical toil by slaves, which the laborer felt would inevitably cause a degrading reflection upon his position. The abolitionists worked within a federal governmental system that reflected the popular conception of the United States as a white man's country with early congressional legislation frequently excluding the blacks from federal rights and privileges.18 They campaigned for schools, businesses, and churches to open their doors indiscriminately. Perhaps the most strenuous campaign was the effort to shift the abolitionist cause into the political arena. For it was here that 16Litwack, North of Slavery, p- 39. 17Dwight L. Dumond, Antislavery: The Crusade for Freedom in America (New York: W. W. Norton Co., 1960), p. 352. 18Litwack, "Emancipation of Negro Abolitionist," p. 261. 26 the identity of abolitionists was blurred amidst a variety of anti- slavery figures and the abolitionist ideal became subject to compromise; the relation of principle to expediency--the chronic problem of all movements for change--came sharply into focus.19 The pre-Civil War political arena of the nineteenth century-- particularly the 1840's and 1850's--engulfed the abolitionist cause in a compromising sort of way. Within the political system, there was growing resentment toward the institution of slavery and popular support was given in opposition to the extension of slavery into the new terri- tories and states. Points of compromise arose because Northerners were opposing slavery for different reasons from those of abolition- ists. And even if slavery was overcome for the wrong reasons, men such as William Lloyd Garrison believed that shifting the abolitionist battle into the political arena would do nothing to help the issue of racial prejudice. Garrison was convinced that the strategy of agita- tion employed in an effort to awaken the nation to the "evils of slavery" should be continued in an effort to likewise awaken the nation to another great injustice, racial prejudice. Apart from Garrison, however, were the emerging "political abolitionists" who appeared first in the Liberty party of 1844. There were reformers who believed that the agitation strategy had served its purpose, but the time was at hand when the abolitionist movement should be channeled into the political mainstream. 19Aileen S. Kraditor, Means and Ends.in.American Abolitionism; Garrison and His Critics on Strategy and-Tactics, 1834-1850 (New York: Vintage Books Division, Random House, 1967), p. 3. 27 There was minimal support politically for the antislavery cause within the two major parties, the Whigs and Democrats. On the contrary, it was not uncommon for a party to try to discredit the opposition by attaching an antislavery stigma to it--which generally aroused a vehement denial. The antislavery forces clearly emerged in political form as the Liberty party for the election of 1844. The Libertymen were basically uncompromising on the antislavery issues and the ballot box showed it. They emerged from the contest of 1844 with cruelly disap- pointed hopes. Not only was their total of 62,000 votes lower than they had expected, but also, as many recognized, their impractical activities during that campaign seemed to have put future success out of reach. The party's refusal to take a stand on the Texas issue had cost it votes which could never be recgyered. Moreover, it had thoroughly alienated many Whigs. The party continued to become more isolated during the next few years and in 1847 its votes began to decrease. This opened the door for the political antislavery cause to find new lodging. The argument over slavery was shifting in the nation about this time "from a demand for abolition to a demand for limitation of its slavery expansion." Consequently, "free soil" became "the issue around which dissenting and discordant elements from the Democratic, Whig and Liberty parties united. . . ."21 While most "radicals" and two-party abolitionists, for dif- ferent reasons, welcomed the Free Soil party, there were those 20Joseph G. Rayback, Free Soil; The Election of 1848 (Lexington: University of Kentucky Press, 1970), p. 99. 2'Ihid.. pp. vii, ix. 28 abolitionists who had strong reservations. "The Free Soilers were the first major antislavery group to avoid the question of Negro rights in their national platform." And on the slavery question, there were major differences between the Liberty platform of 1844 and the Free Soil platform of 1848, "the latter containing an explicit disclaimer of any intention to interfere with slavery in the states . . . and omitting the Libertymen's denunciation of the three-fifths and fugitive-slave clauses in the Constitution."22 No doubt some abolitionists who recognized the clearly defined issues of slavery and race were willing to sacrifice prin- ciple for the sake of expediency. They argued that "in a society characterized by an all but universal belief in white supremacy, no political party could function effectively which included a call for equal rights in its national platform."23 50 they sacri- ficed the issue of race to fight slavery politically, fully aware the party they supported was a coalition of nonextensionists and men of a variety of motives--many of whom embraced the idea of free soil for free "white" labor. At the same time, some abolitionists continued to support a careful distinction of terms and issues. The American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society, for example, an organization that broke away from the American Anti-Slavery Society after a disagreement 22Eric Foner, "Politics and Prejudice: The Free Soil Party and the Negro, 1849-1852," Journal of Negro History, quoted in Kraditor, Means and Ends in American Abolitionism, p. 180. 23Ibid.. p. 185. 29 with Garrison, welcomed "citizens who have recently awakened to see the disastrous policy of slavery extension," but warned that "non- t" 24 extension is not abolition, though included in i and advised Libertymen not to let themselves be swallowed up in "a coalition that demanded not abolition, but nonextension."25 Although stronger than the Liberty party, the Free Soil party survived but two national elections--those of 1848 and 1852-- failing to elect a president. As with the Libertymen, the anti- slavery remnants of the Free Soil party cast about for a new lodging. They found it in the Republican party that was organized in 1854 in Jackson, Michigan, supposedly by a group of reformers professing to be the spiritual heirs of Thomas Jefferson. The new party appeared at a time of political realignment, which was motivated primarily by sectional issues growing out of the slavery question. Passage of the Kansas-Nebraska Act of 1854 opened the remaining territories of the United States to slavery, allowing the electorate of each state to decide if it would be free or slave. The political dissent to this piece of legislation was strong and sought to vent itself outside of older party lines through such political bodies as the Republican party. The Republicans gained enough support to enter a candidate, John C. Freemont, in the 1856 presidential election. Freemont ran a 24Rayback, Free Soil, p. 213. 25Foner, quoted in Kraditor, Means and Ends in American Abolitionism, p. 180. 30 close race, losing to James Buchanan, a Democrat. But, four years later the party--gathering support from the political cleavage in the nation--elected its first President of the United States, Abraham Lincoln. Interestingly enough, while the platform of the party strongly opposed slavery--even as a moral evil--the Republi- cans resembled the coalition of Free Soilers somewhat in that they stopped well short of endorsing the equality of blacks and whites. Even the Great Emancipator, Lincoln, commented clearly: I will say then that I am not, nor ever have been in favor of bringing about in any way the social and political equality of the white and black races,--that I am not nor ever have been in favor of making voters or jurors of negroes, nor of qualify- ing them to hold office, nor to intermarry with white people; and I will say in addition to this that there is a physical difference between the white and black races which I believe will forever bid the two races living together on terms of social and political equality. And inasmuch as they cannot so live, while they do remain together there must be the posi- tion of superior and inferior, and I as much as any other man am in favor 8f having the superior position assigned to the white race.2 Many Republicans labored strenuously to deny the “equality" label Democrats tried to pin on them in 1860. At the same time, abolitionists were torn over whether to support the Republican party whose declarations of white supremacy infuriated many of them who believed that the "elevation of free Negroes to civil and political equality was an essential corollary of the abolitionist belief in "27 the right of all men to equal freedom. In the end, many 26Abraham Lincoln, "Fourth Debate with Stephen A. Douglas at Charleston, Illinois," in The Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, ed. by Roy P. Basler, III (New Brunswick,TNIJT3 Rutgers UniVersity Press, 1953), p. 145. 27McPherson, Struggle for Equality, p. 24. 31 abolitionists did vote for Lincoln because at least there was some degree of antislavery sentiment embodied in the Republican party and because victory meant the nation would no longer be ruled by the slave power interest. And when victory came, Wendell Phillips, a leading aboli- tionist of the day, remarked, . It is the moral effect of this victory, not anything which his administration can or will do, that gives value to this success. Not an abolitionist, hardly an antislavery man, Mr. Lincoln consents to represent an antislavery idea. A power on the political chessboard, his value is in his posi- tion; with fair effort, we may soon change him for knight, bishop, or queen, and sweep the board. . . . The Republican party have undertaken a problem, Ege solution of which will force them to our position. . . . It would not be fair to conclude this discussion of the defining of an abolitionist in the light of the issues of slavery and race prejudice without considering forms of racism that existed even among persons who were identified with the antislavery radi- cals. In their study, "Antislavery Ambivalence: Immediatism, Expediency, Race," William H. Pease and Jane H. Pease note: Yet, for all their exuberance, for all their belief in equality, for all their efforts to raise the Negro above the debilitating influences of adverse environment, the abolitionists were never wholly convincing. Much of what they said betrayed an implicit and at times explicit belief in racial inferiority. . Occasionally crude, more often hidden in underlying assumptions or in appeals to science, prejudice played 29 more pervasive role than the logic of consistency would admit.2 28Wendell Phillips, "Speeches, Lectures, and Letters," First Series, quoted in McPherson, Struggle for Equality, p. 27. 29William H. Pease and Jane H. Pease, "Antislavery Ambiva- lence: Immediatism, Expediency, Race," American QuarterLy, XVII (Winter, 1965), 686. 32 The "crude" examples outlined by the Peases would qualify as abolitionists according to the definition being set forth in this study. Some of the evidence of "hidden" prejudice is noteworthy, however, as well as the concerns over prejudice among the abolition- ists expressed by themselves. One criticism of the abolitionists is that “they so abstracted both the Negro and the Crusade that they dealt not with people in a situation but only with intellec- "30 In becoming preoccupied with the ideal tualizations in a vacuum. of abolitionism, the abolitionist left himself vulnerable to depersonalizing blacks. There were even numerous exhortations by abolitionists themselves that they not watch "for Abolition as an Organization" but that they "watch for Humanity."31 Many times in their arguments against slavery and for racial equality, abolition- ists set forth unattractive, uncomplimentary, even discriminating viewpoints, although in an atmosphere of white supremacy their reasoning may have seemed acceptable to them and radical to current society. They praised the blacks' "susceptibility to control," argued for their equality from a scientific viewpoint, and laid out middle-class expectations in business and education. This was a different form of prejudice because it was often stated in defense of blacks and hard to discern. But it was present, and abolitionist leaders encouraged fellow reformers to recognize that once blacks had been freed from slavery, they should be allowed equal rights 301bid., 683. 31 Ibid 33 with whites and be encouraged and assisted in becoming what they wanted to become. This was the central conviction of the real abolitionist, and the basis for defining this nineteenth century reformer in this study. CHAPTER III ORANGE SCOTT AND ABOLITIONISM In his memoirs, Orange Scott confessed ashamedly that he had been "exceedingly ignorant on the question of slavery on up to July, 1833."1 However, by the time of his early death in 1847 at the age of forty-seven, the "ignorance" of Scott had been redeemed so greatly by the accomplishments of his life that he now merits a place of prominence in the history of abolitionism. He had proved himself a persuasive and capable abolitionist jour- nalist; he had led a secession of some 15,000 persons out of the Methodist Episcopal Church, the largest moral influence in Ameri- ca,2 in rebellion against the pro-slavery sentiment of that body; he had won respect as an effective organizer and orator in his role as one of the "Seventy" agents of the American Anti-Slavery Society; and he had become a formidable debator of antislavery 1Orange Scott, Memoir of Rev. Orange Scott: Compiled from His Correspondence, and Other Authentic Scources (Part I), compiled by Lucius C. Matlack (New York: WeSleyan 866k Room, 1848), p. 31. This book is divided into two parts. The first part is the unabridged memoirs of Orange Scott. .Part II is a collection of materials relating to the life of Scott, edited by LuciUs C. Matlack. 2In 1844, the Methodists were the largest denomination of Protestant Christians in the United States with 1,200,000 members and 8,000 ministers. Aside from the Federal government and political parties, the Methodist Episcopal Church was the largest single national institution. Donald G. Mathews, "Orange Scott: The Methodist Evangelist as Revolutionary," The Antislavery Vanguard: New Essays on the Abolitionists, ed. by Martin Dickerman (Princeton, N.J.: Prince- ton Univer§ity Press, 1965), p. 100. 34 35 issues and strategies against the man who had first influenced Scott toward the abolitionist cause, William Lloyd Garrison. Born in 1800, the son of a Vermont day laborer for farmers--a woodsman who had never owned land-~Scott and his younger brothers were put to work as soon as they were old enough to labor for any profit. Educational opportunities were scarce and at the age of twenty-one Scott could total his school days to not more than thirteen months. Thus, Scott was forced to become a self-motivated learner. His source of knowledge was books, and he developed a discipline for reading that stayed with him even during the busiest days of his life. Self-education, readily identified with another antislavery figure of the period, Abraham Lincoln, was only one of Scott's distinctions; for he also had a rare ability for translating the knowledge he absorbed into powerful and persuasive oratory. Scott also possessed a penetrating and persistent mind that searched for truth and, from the time of his conversion to Christianity, a spiritual prism that analyzed all knowledge in the light of what he believed was the Ultimate Truth. His biographer, Lucius C. Matlack, wrote that education with Scott was spontaneous. He saw; he read; he knew. He sat down to books as the hungry man to a hearty meal. He fed and feasted there with an increasing appetite, devouring libraries. His exhaustless energy digested the whole, while the increased capacity of his mind evermore cried, "Give, give!" He thus acquired an extensive fund of information, and developed fully the power of discerning and judging correctly, or discriminating between 36 the true use of his knowledge and discernment, by choosing the most laudable engs, and by using the means best adapted to accomplish them. Individualism in thought and action during his lifetime were further distinctions of Scott. One evidence of these charac- teristiCS'hsfound in his quest for spiritual fulfillment. He wrote: I never in a formal manner knelt and offered prayer to God until in my twenty-first year. I was alone, at work in the field. The whole subject of religion presented itself to my mind. I reflected upon the object of my existence; upon God; upon eternity; upon my numerous sins; upon the uncer- tainty of life; and upon the awful consequences of being found unprepared when God should call me away. After reflecting fully and for several hours, I came to the decided resolution to seek God until I found him precious to my soul. It was not by human agency I made this commencement. I was awakened through no human instrumentality. I can call no man my spiri- tual father. The influence of the Holy Spirit was the great agent in my awakening and conviction. Up to this point, Scott had rarely attended public wor- ship because he had no clothes to appear decently in the house of God. Not long after his reflection in the field, Scott's spiritual quest led him to a Methodist camp meeting in Barre, Vermont. confessed later that he was ignorant of what to do at the meetings. "If they said to me, go forward for prayers, I went. . . ," he wrote. Throughout the week of meetings he "embraced every oppor- tunity to go forward for prayers" but it wasn't until the last evening that Scott felt "enabled to submit to God. . . ."5 31bid., p. 4Ibid., p. 57. 5Ibid.. p. 58. 37 Following his conversion experience, Scott devoted his "untiring energy of action" to the Christian religion. In the subsequent months, he would walk five or six miles following a hard day of labor to meetings in surrounding communities. Although per- ceived to be “unlearned and ignorant," (an assessment with which Scott himself agreed), Scott's boldness, zeal, and accomplishments were well noted in that region of Vermont. The Reverend S. Chamberlain, who later became a presiding elder of the New Hampshire Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church, wrote: I saw Scott for the first time, in one of those meetings in the town where I resided. It was dull times with us. But he was all life and energy. Few of us knew him. Yet he seemed to be at home, and sung and talked and prayed with a zeal which contrasted strangely with the general coldness. I know I thought to myself "they must have warmer times where you live, my good brother, than we have here." But warm or cold it was the same to him. The word of God was as fire shut up in his bones, and he gave it vent, thereby warming and reviving all with whom he came in contact. . . . In November, 1821, Scott decided to devote himself wholly to the work of the Christian ministry even though he recognized that he had "little or no qualifications, except sincerity and the love of God." His first endeavors were on the Barnard circuit-- some forty miles in distance--for which he set out on foot with "no books but the Bible and a hymn book; no clothing, but what was on his back, and in a small portmanteau; no companion or friend, and in debt $30."7 38 Scott was in great demand by churChes in the conference to which he ministered. As evidence of his success, he was appointed three years successively to the same circuit at the beginning of his ministry--an unusual and significant fact of which there was no parallel in New England up through the 1840's. From Vermont he moved to Charlestown, Massachusetts, where during his two years of ministering he marked himself as a man of "piety, zeal and ability" who had "unusual powers of thought for (one) so young. . . ."8 With his popularity ever increasing, among the bishops, the preachers, and the people, Scott next ministered to a Methodist Episcopal Church in Lancaster, New Hampshire, with great success in "building it up" in 1827-1828. An unprecedented revival the following year was the result of his next work in Springfield, Massachusetts, which, no doubt, contributed toward his appointment to the presidency of the Springfield District by the bishop in that same year. From there, Scott was advanced to the prominent position of presiding elder in the Springfield District. In this capacity, he would travel to churches throughout the district, meeting pastors and parishoners at camp and quarterly meetings. Scott's powerful preaching attracted large numbers of New Englanders, many of whom, no doubt, would be among those who would later follow Scott in 1843 in secession from the Methodist Episcopal Church. In describing Scott's dynamic, the Reverend C. Adams, a professor in the Biblical Institute at Concord, New Hampshire, wrote: 8Letter, Seth Sprogue, Jr., Duxbury, Massachusetts, December 5, 1843, quoted in Scbtt, Memoir of Orange Scott (Part II), p. 62. 39 . . .he passed along these hills and vales in the true spirit of a Methodist Missionary. It was a beauteous trump with which he sounded forth the gospel of salvation. And when it was announced that he would speak, multitudes might be seen gather- ing to the place of assembly. . . . He spoke, and thousands listened with delight. And as along the street, or through the winding footpaths, they sought again their rural homes, it was to remember--long remember, the sacred instruction they had heard, and ham whose lips had uttered it. Such was Orange Scott. . . . It was here in the Springfield District, which covered the western part of Massachusetts and part of Connecticut, that Scott first encountered the antislavery movement among "a race of hardy and independent sons of the Pilgrims who cannot be bound with fetters or chains, nor submit to the loss of their civil or reli- gious liberty."10 In a discussion with Hiram H. White, a pastor at Springfield, Scott listened to White's account of a Colonization Society meeting that he had attended on the Fourth of July of that year, 1833. White, rather incidentally, mentioned the Abolition Society, which he called a "Garrison-Society, or Party." Scott had read some of the writings of the colonizationists who cam- paigned for the return of blacks to colonies in Africa. But, even though he lived within a hundred miles of Boston, he had not heard of the Abolition Society or had ever Seen the Liberator. He wrote: When I entered the ministry, I engaged in it not as a drone but as a laborer. And being wholly devoted to the one idea of saving souls, I omitted to examine, faithfully and critically as I should, the condition of the country in respect 91bid., p. 65. 10Scott, Memoir of Rev. Orange Scott (Part I), p. 30. 40 to great moral evils. My eyes, however, were at length opened, and then I felt like pursuing the course to some degree and extent. . . . I On his first trip to Boston following his discussion with White, Scott "subscribed for the Liberator, purchased Bourne's Picture of Slavery, Mrs. Child's Appeal, Amos Phelps on Slavery, Garrison on Colonization, and several other works on both sides of the question."12 He then set about reading and investigating, choosing not to say anything on the subject for about one year. It was at a Methodist Conference in 1834 that Scott began to be pulled into the abolitionist movement. A resolution in support of colonization was introduced, and Scott immediately moved "to lay it on the table." This was done, after brief discussion. Scott made no attempt at this time to discuss slavery, but continued his study until he had made up his mind for effective action. Finally, convinced through logic and argument of the rightness of abolitionism, he reached a point of action in 1834. Having moved from Springfield to the Providence District, also in Massachusetts, continuing as a presiding elder, Scott won the support of several preachers at camp meetings for a resolution to open the Zipg;§_ Herelg, a publication of the Methodists in the New England area, to a discussion of antislavery issues. Subsequently, the editor of Zion's Herald agreed to "a temperate discussion . . . by one of the leading brethren on each side." 41 Scott had concluded that it was his duty to call the attention of his countrymen to the wrongs and outrages suffered by the wretched slaves in the United States, to which he had been 13 There were three direct so long indifferent and a stranger. ways Scott chose to vent his antislavery feelings. The first was to preach the antislavery cause to Methodist parishoners and preachers to which he ministered in New England. A second course of action that would increase and, in fact, become a major battle- field in Scott's life, was to represent, perhaps better to defend, the antislavery position within the governmental structure of the church. His involvement went far beyond tabling the colonization issue mentioned previously. It eventaully brought him into direct conflict with the highest Officials of the Methodist Episcopal Church, the bishops. The third course Scott chose as a means to awaken his countrymen-~and one of primary concern in this study-- was through written communication. He had decided in October, 1834, to write his first series of articles "to commence on my individual responsibility." He had dropped his first article into the post office at Springfield addressed to Zion's Herald and then discovered in his own mailbox the same day a letter from D. H. Ela, editor Of Zion's Herald, telling him that the antislavery friends of the church desired that Scott represent their views in the “temperate disucssion" in the columns of the Herald. An ensuing debate with a Methodist spokesman launched Scott's career as an abolitionist writer. 13Ibid.. p. 32. 42 Just as Scott was becoming more active in abolitionism, he was forced to step aside for a few months to comfort his wife during a "very distressing sickness of four or five months" before she died of consumption in April, 1835, leaving Scott a widower with five children, including an infant Of only five months. He married again in October of the same year "after a short but agree- able acquaintance."14 From the time he encountered abolitionism in 1833 to mid-1835, much of Scott's efforts had been spent on establishing clearly in his own mind his position on the antislavery question. Once committed to abolitionism, however, Scott faced the question of what would be his point of action, his degree of involvement. His response was the same as reflected in his commitment to preach- ing the Gospel: he engaged the antislavery cause "not as a drone but as a laborer." It was during these years, 1833-1835, that Scott realized his rationale for agitation for abolitionism for the years ahead as an antislavery speaker, Methodist Episcopal Church revolutionary, and abolitionist journalist. He wrote: I felt that by having a torch light presented to the slumbering national mind, it would be roused to see the evil agd defilement of the land, and throw off this great abomina- t on. Powerful impressions are made upon the human mind either by presenting some striking feature of the mercy and love of God, or the corruption and ingratitude of man. Thus, from either source, we may draw forth, present to the eye of the mind, and apply to the heart and conscience, principles, 43 which shall have gpon the life a powerful reformatory influence. . . .1 Prior to the gathering of Methodist Episcopal Church delegates for the New England Conference in 1835, Scott subscribed for one hundred copies of the Liberator to be directed for three months to a hundred preachers within the conference. Scott wrote that the result was as he had anticipated. By the time of the con- ference meeting in Lynn, Massachusetts, many of the preachers had joined in support of abolitionism. Despite the resistance of a prominent church leader, Dr. Willbur Fish, the Methodist aboli- tionists had everything their own way at the Lynn meeting in the election of delegates for the national general conference of 1836. Scott received the largest number of votes, which offended Dr. Fisk, the only delegate elected on the anti-abolition side. Dr. Fisk refused to go as a delegate with all his collegues against him and was replaced by a person of the same sentiment. Increasingly during the next months, Scott emerged as the abolitionist leader of the Methodists in New England. It was not an easy role to assume because it brought the threat of physical harm, endangered his standing within the church, and alienated him from friends. His first threat of physical danger came shortly after the New England Conference of 1835. Scott had set out on a tour of New England states to deliver public lectures against slavery. One 151 id., p. 32. 44 of his first meetings was broken up by a mob, although Scott suf- fered no personal violence. Scott's clerical friends feared for his standing in the church. One wrote in a letter to Scott: I hope God will direct your course in relation to Aboli- tion. I see clearly that our superintendents [bishops], cannot encourage immediatism, and I am apprehensive that the time has come, when they may do more than disapprove of Abolition. Our appointments are in their hands, which they are bound to make for the peace and prosperity of the church. Let us look at our own usefulness and happiness in the church. The public are daily becoming more opposed to modern Abolition, as an impracticable, rash, political theme; and soon its clegical advocates must lose their influence to a great extent. Against the revisionists of history, many of whom treat the abolitionists not as reformers but as extremists motivated toward abnormal psychological behavior, Scott reflected carefully on his motives for declaring the abolitionist cause. He wrote: What I do is from conviction of duty. If the declara- tion and defence of these sentiments make me unpopular, then I am willing to be unpopular. I am not careful about this matter. My course is onward.17 Scott's life service to people and his commitment to the Christian teachings of "love your enemies" and unity within the church, left him in conflict with himself throughout his abolitionist days. In the aftermath of many of his verbal or written battles, Scott reflected a charitable attitude and sustained a hope that the dissection of issues would not mean the dissecting of people. In l6 17 Scott, Memoir Of Rev. Orange Scott (Part II), p. 79. Ibid., p. 80. 45 his first written debate, Scott responded to an unflattering and provoking description of himself by Dr. Fish with the words: ". . .there is nothing personal between Dr. Fish and myself, so far as I know; nothing averse to friendship and love. I have been intimately acquainted with that gentleman for a number of years; have been with him at eleven annual Conferences, and have never been conscious Of any other feelings towards him, than that 18 feeling of respect which approaches to veneration.“ Ten years later he echoed the same spirit, writing in the True Wesleyan: . . Let us extend to the ambassadors and followers of Christ, the courtesies which naturally emanate from a religion which makes all one in Christ Jesus. Let us, my dear brethren, take no cause which has a tendency to create or continue a bitterness of feeling between us and other Christian sects. . . . Not that the corruptions of church and state should not be fearlessly and faithfully exposed. . . . Provocations we have--opposition bitter and virulent is heaped upon us; and under such circumstances, to be always as wise as serpents and as harmless as doves, is perhaps too much to expect of any body Of Christians; yet this should be our Object and aim, as much as in us lies. The doctrine of retaliation is not found in the Gospel Of Chrgst. . . . Let us speak and write freely, but kindly. But the issue of slavery was too emotional and the cause of abolitionism was as repulsive in its own way to the majority of the North as it was to the South; and, at times, Scott could not live apart from that emotion. Scott's agitation within the Methodist Episcopal Church governmental system is best demonstrated in the general conferences l8 19 Ibid. , p. 75. True Wesleyan, Dec. 27, 1845, p. 204. 46 of 1836 and 1840. From the time of his decision to represent abolitionism in 1834 to the 1836 conference in Cincinnati, his antislavery activities were localized. The activities included stumping in New England Methodist churches, minor skirmishes in local conference business meetings, and written debates in the Zion's Herald. By the time he had returned from the general conference of 1836, he had been thrust into the symbolic leader- ship Of Methodist abolitionism. Although in the late eighteenth century and early 1800's the Methodist Episcopal Church had endorsed the antislavery posi- tion, the situation was completely reversed by 1836. The anti-abolitionist position was deeply entrenched among the powerful men in the Church. The official Methodist weekly, the Christian Advocate and Journal, refused to allow a discussion of Slavery in its columns. . . . Bishop Elijah Hedding joined his colleague, Bishop John Emery,.in admonish- ing New England abolitionists for their irresponsible and "arbitrary denunciations." Annual conferences as diverse as those in Maine and Missouri responded to Scott's antislavery triumph in New England with resolutions denouncing abolitionism and reaffirming Methodists' faith in the American Colonization Society, in religious instruction of the slaves in states' rights. Even more extreme was the reaction of the South Carolina Conference which claimed that the abolitionists were heretics, denied that the church had a right to discuss the "civil" question of slavery, and then added tgst the relationship of master and slave was not immoral. The climate of the general conference of 1836 accurately reflected the anti-abolitionist positions held in the Methodist 20Christian Advocate and Journal, Sept. 25, 1835, p. 17; "Minutes of the South Carolina Conference of the Methodist Epis- copal Church for the Year 1836," (Charleston, 1836), p. 3; Western Christian Advocate, Sept. 11, Oct. 16, Oct. 23, Dec. 4, 1835. P9- 97, 99, 103, 126; quoted in Mathews, "Orange Scott: Revolutionary," p. 84. 47 Episcopal Church districts throughout most of the nation. When the fraternal addreSs of the Methodist of England, the homeland of Methodist founder John Wesley, was read, the conference refused a motion by Scott to print the British address in Methodist periodi- cals and ignored the advice of the British to lead public opinion by rejecting slavery.2] This action served to open the discussion on slavery and abolition. Numerous memorials or resolutions were received on slavery, including one by the Reverent Joseph A. Merrill, signed by 200 ministers, asking for the restoration of the original rule of the church against slavery. All of the resolutions were referred to the church committee on slavery, which gave a report unfavorable to action.22 Scott was pulled deeper into the conflict as the confer- ence progressed. A delegate from the Baltimore, Maryland, conference offered two resolutions--one which condemned the conduct of two New England delegates who had lectured at a recent abolition meeting in Cincinnati, and another that disclaimed any right, wish, or inten- tion of the Methodist Episcopal Church to interfere in the civil and political relation between master and slave, as it existed in the slave-holding states. The conference members voted down an amendment to the first resolution to insert the names of the two delegates, as some feared that the two delegates might by lynched if their names were generally known. This action was not wholly 21The Methodist of England were active in working for the abolition of slavery in England and the West Indies, which had been accomplished by this time. 22"Proceedings of the General Conference," Christian Advocate, July 1, 8, 15, 22, 29, August 5,12,19,1836,pa55irn. 48 out of charity, if the words of the Reverend William Smith, a delegate from Richmond, Virginia, had any support: "Let them be brought forth in all the length and breadth of their damning in- iquity."23 Amidst the heated climate, Orange Scott stepped forward to fight the resolutions. Following an uproar by the conference when he first rose, he was given the floor and commenced to give an address that was reported in the Philanthropist of Cincinnati by noted abolitionist and journalist, James G. Birney. He wrote: Mr. Scott of Massachusetts obtained the floor, and com- menced a calm and dispassionate examination of the resolu- tions. He began by asking the patience of members, as he would probably do the principal part of the speaking on behalf of the abolitionists who were in the conference. It was a noble and lofty effort; calm, dignified, generous, Christian. He showed no waspishness, nor petulance against those who differed with him, and who had been so prodigal in their reprobation of abolitionists. He was several times inter- rupted by his impatient adversaries--yet his calmness and self-pogiession were in no measure disturbed, even for a moment. .‘. In his speech Scott attacked slavery as a moral evil. He quoted church fathers, including John Wesley, who had labeled slavery as "the sum of all villainies" and slaveholders as on a level with "men-stealers." Scott discounted the term "modern abolitionism" and reminded the church of its condemnation of slavery, which was written into the Methodist Episcopal Church 23Ira F. MCLeister, History of the Wesleyan Methodist Church of America, Rev. by Roy S. Nicholson (Syracuse: Wesley Press, 1941), p.19. ‘ 24Philanthropist, June 3, 1836, p. 2. 49 Discipline. Scott moved to attach to the inevitable censure resolu- tion the traditional Methodist statement of opposition to "the great evil of slavery." The amendment was voted down and the reso- lutions passed. But there was more to come. Scott quickly prepared and distributed to the conference an anonymous pamphlet, "An Address to the Members of the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church (by a member of that body)," which accused the speakers in the debate of failing to take cognizance of his arguments and . clearly and forcefully "ind'ict‘ed‘ slavery and its defenders.25 Both Scott's written address and Birney's account of the conference became widely read following the conference. The con- ference body, particularly a Mississippi delegate, William Winans, was enraged and labeled the pamphlet as "palpably false" and "an outrage on the dignity of this body and meriting unqualified repre- hension" and the author as a "reckless incendiary or a non compos mentis."26 After Winans offered his resolution on the pamphlet, Scott arose and stated he was the author. The debate that followed the next day turned into a long attack upon abolitionism and Scott, ending in passage of Winans' resolution by a vote of 97-19. One more time before the conference expired, Scott rose to repudiate an attempt by a Methodist delegate from Virginia to put the Methodist on record in support of the notion that the 25"An Address to the Members of the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church," printed in Zion's Watchman, June 8, 1836. PP. 87-91. 26MCLeister, History Of Wesleyan Methodist, p. 21. 50 Congress had no authority over slavery in the District of Columbia, territories, or states. Scott was rebuked again. The only victories on the question of slavery during the conference were those lodged decisively by the ecclesiastical defenders of the status quo. They successfully passed anti- abolitionists resolutions and sustained pro-slavery sentiment. The bishops, of which one was a slaveholder, successfully put forth a resolution which stated, "we have come to the solemn conviction that the only safe, scriptural, and prudent way for us, both as ministers and people to take is, wholly to refrain from this agi- tating subject of abolitionism ."27 The adoption of this resolu- tion gave the bishops the support they needed to come down on abolitionists in the church with a strong hand--an action that sowed the seeds of Scott's personal distaste of episcopacy, the adjoining reason, along with abolitionism, for his secession later. At the general conference of 1840, Scott was again a delegate. Still the leading spokesman for abolitionism within the Methodist Episcopal Church, Scott presented more than thirty resolutions, each being rejected by the committee on slavery. One of the resolutions from New York City was handed to him for pre- sentation with the claim that it was signed by 1,154 members Of the church in that city. The signatures were challenged by members of the conference who, after an investigation, charged the resolution as being "an imposter and a libel." The action reflected on Scott 27Ibid., p. 22. 51 who stated that he had no personal knowledge of the signatures, but had delivered the resolution for a "brother whom he believed 28 The conference chambers were filled to hear to be trustworthy." Scott defend himself and explain his actions. The conference gave him an attentive reception as evidenced by the account of the official reporter of the conference in the Christian Advocate: The speaker's manner throughout was dispassionate and concilia- tory, and his whole address was free from offensive or inflammatory epithets. He was heard with the greatest respect and attention by the body, and by a very large agdiengs, which had convened to listen to the debate on this t eme. Scott was not encouraged by the outcome of the 1840 con- ference, as again no resolutions were passed in support of aboli- tionism. However, it is significant that the cause of antislavery had gained a measure of support as "the issues which could have been interpreted as dividing strictly between 'antislavery' and 'pro- slavery' gave the former 35 per cent of the tally, almost threefold increase over 1836."30 In the winter of 1840, Scott's health failed and he resigned his pastorate at Lowell, Massachusetts, and moved to Newbury, Vermont, where he worked and wrote articles at his leisure. Scott was weary from the activities of the past few years, not only by his involvement prior to and during the conferences of 1836 and 28"Proceedings of the General Conference," Christian Advocate, May 22, 29, June 5, 12, 19, 1840, passim. 29Ibid., 'p. 166. 30Mathews, "Orange Scott, Revolutionary," p. 92. 52 1840, but also by the active abolitionist role that he had played between those sessions. After the general conference of 1836, the presiding bishop of the local conference meeting the same year at Springfield instructed Scott that unless he would pledge himself to refrain from writing and lecturing on slavery and abolition that he (the bishop) could not reappoint Scott as presiding elder. Scott responded that he could not pledge where conscience was concerned. After his rejection, Scott decided to take an appointment as a preacher and was stationed at Lowell, Massachusetts. He labored for a year, preaching both the gospel of Christ and of abolitionism. Although the church memberShip was only oneétenth abolitionist when Scott arrived, during the ensuing months he won the support Of the congregation to the antislavery cause; and he also saw the church add about two hundred members to its congregation. In the middle part of 1837, Scott requested and received a supernumerary relationship with the church. This freed him to become one of the famous "Seventy" agents, a host of notable talents gathered by the American Anti-Slavery Society to spread the doctrine of abolitionism throughout the country. His letter of appointment came from Arthur Tappan, chair- man of the executive committee Of the American Anti-Slavery Society, and Elizur Wright, Jr., secretary of domestic correspondence. Scott was commissioned for two years, beginning June, 1837. The letter stated, in part, 53 The Committee welcome you as a fellow-laborer in this blessed and responsible work; the success of which will depend, in no small degree, under God, on the result of your efforts. Their ardent desires for your success will continually attend you; you will have their sympathy in trials; and nothing, they trgstgdwgll be wanting, on their part, for your encouragement an a . Scott's decision to become an agent was influenced greatly by letters he had received following the conference meeting in 1836 from Methodist churchmen with abolitionist sentiment. With his reputation as a capable antislavery speaker spreading, his services were in great demand. Your services as an Antislavery Agent, are greatly wanted in the north part of Ohio, and in the Michigan Conference. I saw a local preacher a short time since . . . of Ohio who tells me that if Brother Scott would come into Ohio, he has no doubt the whole of Ehe above Conference would be aboli- tionized in one year.3 Again, Scott entered the agency as a "laborer," writing in July of 1837: I closed up and left the regular work of a stationed preacher the 29th of May. . . . The 30th of May I attended the New England Anti-slavery Convention, at Boston. The 3lst, I lectured in the Methodist Church in Fourth-street, New Bedford, to a good congregation. June lst, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, 5th, and 8th, I lectured to large congregations in the Methodist Church at Nantucket. . . . I lectured twice on the 5th of June; and at the close of these lectures, about two hundred and fifty names were obtained to an antislavery constitution, which were increased begore I left the island, to three hundred or more. . . . 31Letter, Arthur Tappan and Elizur Wright, Jr., to Orange Scott, May 18, 1837, New York, printed in Scott, Memoir of Rev. Orange Scott (Part 110, p. 122. 32Letter from a Methodist minister to Orange Scott, Sept:;* 1836, quoted in Scott, Memoir of Rev. Orange Seott (Part II), p;,120. 33Ibid., pp. 122-3. 54 This was the nature of Scott's work; to preach abolitionism, to help form local societies of abolitionists, and to raise financial support for the national movement. He did his tasks well. Men such as John Greenleaf Whittier, the Quaker poet of New England, attested to Scott's abilities when he said of an anti- slavery meeting in Boston: We had listened with intense interest to the thrilling elo- quence of George Thompson, and Henry B. Stanton had put forth one of his happiest efforts. A crowded assembly had been chained to their seats for hours. It was near ten o'clock in the evening. A pause ensued; the audience became unsettled, and many were moving toward the door, purposing to retire. A new speaker arose. He was a plain-looking man, and seemed rather to hesitate in the few observations he first offered. An increasing disposition to listen evidently encouraged him, and he became animated and lively, eliciting demonstrations of applause. Spurred on by this, he continued with increas- ing interest evident on the part of his hearers, who now resigned themselves willingly to his powerful appeals, respond— ing at short intervals in thunders of applause. To many his illustrations were new and startling. . . . Upon inquiry we heard the name of 0. Scott, now 30 well known among the ablest advocates of the slave's cause.3 Scott's ability to win the financial support of the people of New England was reflected in a letter to him from Henry B. Stanton, an American Anti-Slavery Society leader, on October 24, 1837. Stanton wrote: I don't believe there is any field in which you can be so use- ful to our Society, till next spring, as a financial agent. You have the fullest confidence of ghe abolitionists. They will readily give it to you. . . .3 34McLeister, History of Wesleyan Methodist, p. 14. 35Henry B. Stanton,letter to Orange Scott, Oct. 24, 1837, New York, printed in Scott, Memoir of Rev. Orange Scott (Part II), p. 135. 55 It was during these years, primarily 1838 and 1839, that Scott became critical of the man who had initially influenced him toward the abolitionist movement, William Lloyd Garrison. "Im- pressed with John Humphrey Noye's 'perfectionism,‘ and Henry C. Wright's 'nonresistant' theories of no government but God's, Garrison began to support these ideas in the Liberator."36 As were many of his abolitionist colleagues, Scott was a man of one cause and could not support Garrison's scattered approach to reform and specifically, his extreme viewpoint on anarchy. Scott wrote in the Liberator: Trust in God and leave all to him? As well might you trust God to edit and print your paper, without any human agency. Trust in God and no human government? ‘What is it shields you from northern and southern vengeance now? Not the 155e— sistible power of God as much as the fear of human laws. Scott's hope for reform was to see the laws that upheld racial servitude abolished. He worked for change within the Metho- dist Episcopal Church, within the political process as a member of the Liberty party, and within the nation as an abolitionist who tried to stir up the populace. His conflict with Garrison by this and other issues deepened and he found himself part of an effort by Stanton and Amos A. Phelps, also an official of the American Anti-Slavery Society, to undercut the power of Garrison and to establish a new abolitionist organization. 36 BjLiQQEQEQLs Oct. 26 and Nov. 16, 1838. pp. 171-72, 184. Mathews, "Orange Scott: Revolutionary," p. 77. 56 But Garrison, even though discouraged for a moment by the rebuff Of some of the best known antislavery agents, antcipated the efforts and outmaneuvered his Opposition at conventions of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society and American Anti-Slavery Convention. His abolitionist opponents were overcome and eventually formed splinter groups. the Massachusetts Abolition Society and the American and Foreign Anti-Slavery Society. Scott's enthusiasm became unleashed, perhaps too much so, during this time. He promised "nine-tenths Of the Methodist influ- ence in the state" to the Massachusetts society. At one meeting at Lowell, he spoke first in a debate and before his opponent could reply, had moved and carried a vote to adjourn--a tactic that brought him under the criticism of prominent abolitionist Theodore Dwight Weld. These events, and the approaching general conference of 1840, pulled Scott back to the forefront of the Methodist Episcopal Church in 1839. Several meetings were held by the Methodist aboli- tionists in preparation for the gathering. There was no rest for the revolutionary; that is, not until after the 1840 conference when he retired to reflect upon his actions, his words, his enemies, his Christian witness, and the controversies of which he hadbeen a part. As was characteristic of Scott, he was apologetic: "Men of ardent temperature like myself are exceedingly liable to over act, and not always exercise sufficient prudence in the manner of debate."38 38MtLeister. History of Wesleyan Methodist, p. 27. 57 While Scott remained in silence, the official Methodist press attacked him as being "schismaticfl Garrison chided, "Where is Orange Scott who once shook the Methodist hierarchy to its foundation with his antislavery thunder? Morally defunct." And his friends accused him of being inconsistent in his life by remaining in membership with a pro-slavery church while espousing the abolitionist cause. But while others spoke, Scott, in ill health, patiently rested, and charted in his own mind the last years of his life. CHAPTER IV THE TRUE WESLEYAN: AN ABOLITIONIST PAPER The press in the early 1800's had become an attractive medium to religious and social reformers and advocates, offering a direct line to the American masses at a bearable cost. The abolitionists represented a radical, widely unpopular movement committed not just to freeing the slaves, but to realizing the equality of blacks and whites. Orange Scott had become a prominent abolitionist in New England, working both within the Methodist Episcopal Church ans as one of the famous "Seventy" agents of the American Anti-Slavery Society. To support the course of abolitionism, Scott had launched the True Wesleyan, the antecedent of the Wesleyan Advocate, which is still published today. This study focuses primarily on the period from 1843 to 1847, during which Scott was in a key position of leadership. He was the founder and publisher of the newspaper in 1843 and its first editor. Two years later he turned the editor- ship over to Luther Lee, so that he could devote more time to the establishment of a book-publishing house for the Wesleyans. But his influence was felt as the newspaper held faithfully to its founding principles through the Civil War and through succeeding editors-~Lee, Lucius C. Matlack, and Cyrus Prindle--a11 of whom g 58 59 were friends of Scott and among the early secessionists from the Methodist Episcopal Church. The secession that precipitated the founding of the news- paper was not an easy point of action for Scott and his antislavery friends to reach; moreover, it came about slowly in Scott's own thinking. As the winter of 1840 in Newbury, Vermont, moved toward the spring of 1841, Orange Scott wrote in Zion's Watchman: "I have little hope that the Church will ever be reformed in relation to "1 It was more than a year later, under the pressure not slavery. of Garrison's charge Of "morally defunct" nor the Methodist hier- archy's "schismatic" propaganda, but partly in response to anti- slavery sympathizers within the Methodist Episcopal Church, that Scott finally concluded: "There is . . . no alternative but to submit to things pretty much as they are, or secede."2 On November 8, 1842, Scott, the Reverend Jotham Horton, and the Reverend LaRoy Sunderland withdrew from the Methodist Episcopal Church. In December the two men who, respectively, succeeded Scott as editors of the True Wesleyan, Lee and Matlack, also seceded. The secession marked the end of Scott's rebellion within the system of the Methodist Episcopal Church, but was the beginning of his final hour of agita- tion--this time in the role of abolitionist journalist. Scott was not without experience as a journalist. It was Scott who first had taken up the pen in behalf of the New England 1Zion's Watchman, February, 1841. 2Ibid., June, 1842. 60 Methodist abolitionists in the written debate in Zion's Herald in 1834. As he became more active in the abolitionist movement, his efforts as a writer likewise increased. In addition to writing in the Methodist publications, primarily Zion's Herald and Christian Advocate and Journal, Scott contributed to Garrison's Liberator and to Zion's Watchman, an antislavery paper edited by LaRoy Sunderland in New York City for the Wesleyan Conference Society, an antislavery Methodist group. One of Scott's most popular printed pieces was his pamphlet, "An Address to the Members of the General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church," which came out of the debates at the general conference of 1836. Another notable work was his "Appeal to the Methodist Episcopal Church," printed in 1838 in the only number issued of the Wesleyan Anti- Slavery Review, which was published in response to the struggle within the church for a change in stern antiabolitionist policy. This antiabolitionist policy was reflected in the columns of the official Methodist papers, which would refuse at times to publish abolitionist articles. In an article written by Scott and sent to the Christian Advocate and Journal in January of 1838, for example, Scott added a tactful, private note: "If you cannot publish this communication, will you have the goodness to send it to Reverend L. R. Sunderland, or enclose it in a wrapper, directed to him, and drop it into the post office."3 What Scott 3Orange Scott, letter to editors of Christian Advocate and Journal, Jan. 15, 1838, Garrett Seminary Manuscripts, John Davis ColTEction of Autographs and Portraits, Methodist Episcopal Church ministers, Vol. 5, Part 2, No. 166. 61 really meant, it appears, was, "If you won't print this article because of its abolitionist nature, then send it to a paper that will." The article was a response to a story by Dr. Nathaniel Bangs in the Christian Advocate and Journal that accused Scott of favoring physical force in defense of abolitionism. Scott had commented on the death of abolitionist martyr Elijah P. Lovejoy in Illinois in 1837. Although Scott felt that nonresistence was the best principle in protesting, he believed physical force to defend rights, property, and lives was authorized by the U. S. Constitution and the laws of the land. Scott referred even more directly to the anti-abolitionist policy Of the Methodist press at the time of secession: . .all her [Methodist Episcopal Church} papers are so much under the influence of slaveholding, that no abolitionist can be heard on the subject of slavery and aboliXion; however, he may be abused, traduced, and misrepresented. This antiabolitionist stance was one reason the abolitionists looked to other sources to communicate their cause. There were other reasons, too, of course. Scott could remember the assistance the 100 subscriptions to the Liberator had given him in his aboli- tionist campaign among New England Methodists. Indeed, the press was a powerful tool for generating new support for the abolitionist movement and bringing unity and facilitating communication among those already persuaded. The press also became, in part, the 4True Wesleyan, Jan. 7, 1843, p. 1. 62 "torch light" that Scott had pledged to hold to the slumbering con- science of the nation. It was, perhaps, for these reasons that Scott launched in 1840 a short-lived paper, the American Wesleyan Observer. One purpose that stands out above all others is Scott's use of the Observer to rally support for the Methodist abolitionists as they headed into the general conference of 1840. Because the mortality rate of newspapers was about the same as the high frequency with which publications were begun, it is not surprising that the Observer was terminated after six months. In the next to last issue of the Observer, Scott and the co-editor, Jotham Horton, wrote that if enough support had been given the paper by subscribers, either Scott or Horton would have resigned their pastorates to devote their full energies to editing the paper. Could one of the editors have seen his way clear to devote his whole attention to the paper, we think it could have been sustained. But it has been found too great a tax upon both body and mind to conduct a weekly Journal in addi- tion to the performance of regular pastoral duties in large and responsible stations. And as the crisis is not past for which the Observer was got up and as there are as many other Methodist papers in the field as likely to be well supported, we shall content ourselves for the present, with expressing our sentiments on the great question Of equal rights, both as it respects the white and colored man, through other medians; and if our way be hedged there, the Observer may, perhaps, have a resurrection. One of the greatest benefits of the American Wesleyan Observer was the experience it gave Scott as an editor and 5American Wesleyan Observer, July 23, 1840, p. 99. 63 publisher-~experience that would be needed when the American Wesleyan Observer indeed was resurrected as the True Wesleyan for another crisis, the secession of Scott and other abolitionists from the Methodist Episcopal Church. In the first number of the True Wesleyan, dated January 7, 1843, Orange Scott outlined for the inspection of an "enlightened public," the principles by which the paper would be governed. These- principles were rooted in a "form of Christianity generally known as Wesleyan Methodism." Scott wrote: We shall take the name of Wesleyan Methodists; but we are~ not so bigoted as to suppose there is any particular virtue in a name, or in an ism. . . . It is not for a name, that we leave the old church; but for principles. As we are still Methodists in doctrine, and as we are with the venerable Wesley in his viewg of slavery, we have taken the name of Wesleyan Methodists. Perhaps in response to the "ism“ charge of the Methodist press, which chose the name of "Scottites" as a slanderous sub- stitute for "Wesleyan Methodists," Scott stressed that he and his followers did not "entertain uncharitable feelings toward other evangelical denominations . . . for avowing and practicing according to their conscientious convictions of Bible truth."7 He did, how- ever, claim the same right in presenting his own views of the‘truth, believing "man has nothing to fear from the advanCement of truthl" There were two primary reasons for the secession of the Wesleyan Methodists: the pro-slavery sentiment and episcopacy form 6True~Wesleyan, Jan: 7. 1843, p. 2.. 7Ibid. 64 of government of the Methodist Episcopal Church. These reasons became the two guiding principles of the True Wesleyan. In refer- ence to the issue of slavery, Scott wrote: On the absorbing question of the day, our paper will be decidedly anti-slavery. We are more than ever persuaded, and the signs of the times do fully indicate, that as the American church, North as well as South, is deeply implicated in the sin of slavery, the church must take the lead in this enterprize, bear her testimony against it, and put forth her highest and holiest energies for its promotion. The removal of slavery is emmenently a religious enterprize. . . . Where on earth shall the slave look for help, if the church will not listen to the story of his wrongs? We ask then your conscience, Christian reader, ought the plea of the slave to have a place in our columns? We have no anxiety as to the answer. To the affirmative of this question we are pledged by our most solemn convictions.8 After years of struggling against the power of the bishops within the Methodist Episcopal Church, it was not surpris- ing to see the issue of church government receive as much prominence in Scott's prospectus as the issue of slavery. " One prominent object we have in view in publishing this paper, is to advocate what is believed to be a consistent plan of church polity. The history of the Romish Church shows to what lengths a love of power has carried professed minis- ters of Christ,--and also, the insidious steps by which primi- tive Christianity put on the form of the beast. The Methodist Episcopal Church is not yet sixty years old. But have not her chief ministers asserted perogatives which the clergy of the Church of Rome did not dream of at the same period in their history? And does not the discipline of the Methodist Episcopal Church confer powers on her Bishops which the Priests of the Romish Church did presume to claim for a long period after St. Peter planted the standard of the Cross in the imperaal city? And ought not these matters to be candidly examined? 8Ibid. 91bi'd. 65 There were other guiding principles, not as important as slavery or episcopacy, which Scott adopted: (1) the advancement of sound learning, in the promotion of the literary institutions of the age, both in and out of the church; (2) the sabbath school and Bible cause that Scott felt was a deplorable Christian effort; (3) missionary intelligence; (4) Christian holiness as embodied in the experience Of early Methodists; and (5) whatever in the judgment of the'editor was fitted to promote intelligence, virtue and reli- gion, and any of the other great interests of humanity.10 The content Of the True Wesleyan during 1843-1847 clearly reflected the purposes of the paper. In the first issue, January 7, 1843, Scott, Sunderland, and Horton laid the groundwork not only for their own secession, but also for that of many other antislavery Methodists. Many considerations of friendship as well as our temporal interests, bind us to the church of our early choice. But for the sake of a high and holy cause, we can forego all these. . . . We have borne our testimony a long time against what we con- sidered wrong in the Methodist Episcopal Church. We have waited, prayed, and hoped, until there is no longer any ground for hope. Hence we have come to the deliberate conclusion that we must submit to things as they are or peaceably retire. We have unhesitatingly chosen the latter.11 Many of the antislavery sympahtizers in the Methodist Church were ministers and laymen who felt inadequate to confront arguments of the bishops of the powerful editors of the Methodist press. They would write to Scott, pleading with him to visit their 66 churches to clearly defend the antislavery cause and to encourage the people to continue to support the cause in the face of hostility. A regular part Of Luther Lee's time was given to traveling to churches or local conference meetings where he would debate a Methodist antiabolitionist. And, it should be noted, "logical Lee" was most successful as a debator.12 These followers of Scott, who were faced with the decision of whether to secede, no doubt found strength and clarity in the reasons for secession that were outlined in the True Wesleyan. The reasons, like the guiding principles, revolved around the two issues Of slavery and episcopacy. Even the discussion of episcopacy, however, was tied closely to anti- slavery thought. For example, in discussing the unrestricted power of bishops in stationing preachers against a preacher's will, the paper stated: For the simple crime of abolition, a brother may be placed by the bishops where, in all probability, he would be put either out of the church, or out of the world. For, he may be transferred to a southern conference, to which, if he does not go, he would lose his membership in the church; and where, if he does go, he would be liable to lose his head. In presenting the antislavery reasons for secession, Scott, Sunderland, and Horton gave a thorough indictment of the Methodist Episcopal Church: 1. She [the Methodist Episcopal Church] is a slaveholding church. She allows her members and ministers unrebuked, to hold innocent human beings in a state Of hopeless bondage. 12Lee wrote confidently in the True Wesleyan of April 20, 1844, "It makes but little difference who may be engaged in the opposition, for truth is truth, and error is error, and will so remain. Our friends here are in high spirits, calculating on nothing but triumph." 10. ll. 12. 13. 14. 15. 67 She upholds and defends her communicants in this abomin- able business. All her disciplinary regulations which present a show of opposition to slavery are known acknowledged to be a dead letter in the South. And they are as dead in the North as in the South. The general rule has been altered, either through care- lessness or design so as to favor the internal slave trade. The church has defended, in a labored argument, through some of her best ministers, the present rightful relation of master and slave—-in that she has never called them to account for putting forth such a document. She has exhorted trustees to close Methodist pulpits to Methodist antislavery lecturers. She has refused to entertain in the annual conferences motions expressive of the sinfulness of slaveholding. She has refused through her bishops to hear_the prayers of scores and hundreds of her members against slavery. She has refused to publish in her official papers, several addresses of the British Wesleyan Conference because they alluded to slavery. She had arraigned and condemned without forms of trial, members of her highest ecclesiastical assembly for simply attending and speaking in an antislavery meeting. She has condemned modern abolition. She has exhorted ministers and members throughout the country "wholly to refrain" from this agitating subject. She has allowed some annual conferences to state that slavery is not a moral evil, while refusing other con- ferences to express the opposite sentiment. She has allowed, without censure, one of her bishops to issue a labored address in which an attempt is made to prove that slaveholding is not only justified, but enjoined under some circumstances, by the Golden Rule. She has, through some of her annual conferences, pro- hibited her ministers and preachers from patronizing antislavery papers. 68 16. She has refused to receive into some of her annual con- ferences, pious and talented young men on trial, for the simple reason that they were active abolitionists. 17. She has removed ministers and presiding elders from their responsibilities because of their abolition expression, and followed some of them in order to discredit their ministry. 18. She has adopted a resolution on colored testimony which disfranchises eighty thousand of her members; thus, giv- ing the weight of her influence to that slaveholding legislation which, in a civil point of View, disfran- chises millions of our fellow countrymen. 4 Although the first few issues of the True Wesleyan were dominated by the secession activity and the assembling of the Wesleyan Methodists at a convention for organizational purposes, the newspaper gradually took on a consistent form and personality. The reader was attracted to the front page by an engraving of John Wesley, dressed in clerical garb, and encircled with the words, "The Best Of All Is, God Is With Us" and "John Wesley, Born, June l7, 1703; Died March 2, 1791." (See illustration). The engraving broke up the title of the paper, placed between "The True" and "Wesleyan." Underneath the title were quotations on each side: "This equally concerns all slaveholders of whatever rank or degree, seeing that men buyers are exactly on’a level with men stealers." . . . "American slavery, the vilest that ever saw the sun." . . . John Wesley; and "How can you, how dare you, be called a Bishop? I shudder, I tremble at the thought." "For my sake, for God's sake, for Christ's sake, put an end to this." . . . Extract of a 14True Wesleyan, February 7, l846, p. 25. ‘Q‘t U10. l11i!§iiil1‘i§ili’-i SI I. 1‘.‘ 1.. s‘. THE Mflm‘MdMI-I- mane-g he! may-IW-fln-M"mfimmmid.mm upwinyhnde. anauumuflmmuuumwumuad—Iamu he “heavy-aim Mgmflum-I~“”—m weal". ‘ NO 3 "“‘"°--hI-Iaaua-.~..-taaaw.iq. WESLEYAN. “Mu-yfibe'dnnmteeeflelnuo'I wall-...eweeeebel.ee-I-I.emu by-yumuedl-en-fiqt hem-Iqhu'a ebb-"muItuII-adnlaueet—Jel-‘aaleyaem Ifiefluummm lo- I a- Ie-II-II ha theta-Inlay". ‘ ._-__.--~_--_ ._ —“hOSToN:8ltggpAY, AR 20,i8;4. 'II- II a “we... ”heft—Jab- JAhU '0‘]. wmmENooE —— 'RUE WESLEYAN named-mum» ‘IA‘ lame-r COIIIIflIOI or alntca. 'I'T. Ell?" I.“ PIOPIIE‘I‘UI. TON- Ina-tau “laces. I ii fulfill. our CIart Street. I. 0' TII‘ PA'KR. Vr-t any . IIIII- d v vrry fiaturnhy. t‘ F. laud”, ‘I W A“ b‘ .I" ." ’ rnJ'nIx II III» Ir'I auburn-i.. 9 ring", frer of rlprnn. Iliali rrny put.- I II air ublevlirdr .J in tls- yaIfnrr .1 th: iyrr.I.t. ltrltf' pta Surli a II require I reply ‘tII IIIO he Mil .IiIIn-re If ily rug-l of all ,xr- "Wit-u" en-iI requt'alv‘ul Lu Itl I of the g-Ip I. and "'IIJI-‘f met-In i will b put Ito-e «Ln-Ila! p t Innum, fat-”u. put raid, ma v hr adder-eon! oYV_ Lu be at IIb: Trev “'c-IA _\il'l .I. I rat-net, M III ra-itlle remit unite-1 an "year. when t't‘utllld lo d4 00 It? (I I ILLI- .‘IINTZR inmiinimlions. For IL! 1351 Ilrrfnm. llitr fairsr. bet-Inn who pr. foe to ailvneite Mt rr‘fuen- to “4"“ t-- I few Iotde V!!! are Inner-inn ways tn which I' I‘ ll came flnr h Ill net-I, " It I ill.“ t (mitt-tn the fund of the I rel I liltin-r Iliitli men may Meat 0 often "my d__ ‘f' ”I. let [tar-Ilea- xea‘ota fight. "“0: three life in in the right.’ '0 ran he in the right. tf hie mind in Per-una’ In "t. 1 mm me mind of but I are of the Int magnitude. AP'Ilypae. three churcrtra arc ea In ctndzaeot II, uphold-rig the ll'ltt 1iRn.tl').t:l-aii above fifty yeare, I-IIII recently. “I Inn-chad our “It“ by the fall. re- lhriet. regeneratnnn by the Spirit. on tithe life and c mduct, II the te~ n Jnut' t- ln we to be rompreher-n-e. and l "t; brethren. - tiu tiio-i and do like- ‘kR In: other way. u! priniuting .he-lea filer-mg gnxnd dnnt'trlI-OI. It'll Unlir tnttlt In "or (int-lutt. ll Him other putnnl dance . tltn re ta llfn'el it ray duty to bring bifurv '0. II inituetera, InilTu tently "not!” I'P‘bytn" paper bi-lnwe not people I" U"ll-Pill. it to our winciynl organ. Jn trifn-riiratiiitt of our movement! ll “'e have no “bu-ll of on" P’Ihl‘lplcl; we know It the int of investigation ; and fur I'M! III the tnuinphInt manner in lettuce on the .IIIIJQEI of alarery have thrrrh Ind the 'n-rltl. There '0 great [allacy in For - men.' ”.0340 ant light I candle and put 'Iliut no a un- lunch. and it b all that are in the b «reef—Hell. vthne-i in the mfitl'y, lct ua labor "'4 ire burning on the altar ofour 1eaball ten-rt the glory of the Lord. It in preach l'hr .i. in the power of one at in: heart, aril tlr- faithfulneo 1"!“ In |Ccutttp taIi flu ht! prowl-’9. drum the Ian Inert in the hub uf One word In the tnentbera ofottr churchaa. You. dear brethren, he near our heerta. You form the main body in r‘ not canoe.“ Proopertty of nail among you ta particularly deenrable. Know your pnI-ilagea; be not rontcnt to live be- neath them. and frtl. oh! feel the ueceeaity of attaining thmunto. 8:: that yo obt-m and hold feet, I full aeauranee of your being the rhil- dren of God. Pray alao for the Mltlnufln': ti.’ the Holy Spirit tip-n our labore. Ir't ua all be do. term-ned to chow the world. that “Our cause In ere-it and Ihall poet-ail." I am, nlaar brethren. afiwtivvmtrly Ionra in (Zhriet, Jon! I. Ulnl‘l. 50? Benny. .‘b'rte I'eik (\Iy. ‘0! [hr 'rrur II'rJr trim Comprnsatiou to Slat'rlioldrrs. It hen been said. Ind n-ft repeated. that as the Ila-eltulden inwntenl property iii alavr-I, under the iJMIl-‘n rifcnmt Itl'ltillil law, It in hard ‘llo tile ufl'lf property away Illltl the-ii eiihuut tht-ii eniiipcrpatinu Very ‘0'”. ta 1' mil li.1ri.li'r to inabr tlic Ilanea witra all the time fur nni ('blllwn‘ Bond". Ire do nut tithe his pram-Hy it away. 'nalton 3 lwlien w-n fee the IInfla. Hr fabled iwheri he pnini the man who had n- night to Iell them. not he to hwy th- in. [It to the ~eler for .tlllrfil'llon. if he. ia entitled to any. ‘B-it II he III I pertii intuit 1n the crime (if do. him Iuilt trauiliiig inn-n Iiinl wimten nf theniiael- ea. the de- ;le iil.ivit might call “1" I party (‘nn ernei ,i-riil mt ' i-Irtw luI te-titntvm. Again, when lerII tt-te-l property under the aamtui . iif law. they 'Ifib slits ‘ch-rtgve of the low. the Mine II thn' ri~Ii tle iiyh'iiing, Inter, hind. and tire . and Ilit-r lli _nlit III well claim rompenaalion for I035?! by than an by liberty and Justice. Sumt- year! ago. the trvrt‘linttttt In New ling- llartd inn-elm! large property in free trIdc. but 'he :-I1U'pnl0r put on tarifl' In I“ lp Cntl'il‘l yrriwtnc. Inrl ni-aiiy hat Il-('lf iirriperti ll viebr, hm had no ‘(Oflfll‘llheIIHIL tlm igli tlit-ii LII-UHF“ on to! mi- nioral. 'I'iien the nine Ila-r pnn-r'r put i/im-u llnt.‘ 'Intlfl: and many Inf Ilitiae~ Ilint ltitl tn\r'll-t| III‘II' property in lfIJIIUIJtIlIfI a vial it. but il.il IIIO’1_"1‘CI nCUI‘lQnfltl' them ; If I rumininy f In!” Iii-it'd I-iu ea pmidenta Adama and \‘an [tun-ii. in.) reduce them in pruperty iindnr the Ian-ti. n of ‘law. and ull AdainI to I aeif atyled dem (rat‘ land Van Buren to I Mianaimil wIng, 'IIPH‘ iiiny Int-t rtaarth iii qu=cb time It the but amt IIiiItlc of the whip; Iliomd the law bn- rhangeil Ilnl they ‘ae't frte, what right hII t'ungrtaa to talie iiiy prniieriy t-- hire their mIItmI it) lean- on uiiiig ftheir nl‘l‘hh‘f‘l Ieri ire without wag» I. m It) [my men for loatag property that neier belonged to them? I [here reaaninablc man can Iee at a glam-I. that ltha‘e Iltu arm-d ll-cui firat hail n-i rigtt t-n IIAI'III. nur haI any "they tum-ii any Int-tt' i.giit 1.: potent. wean-It, blacleit peranvtt that liwn, w .rn i'iu | iflm VOIIIKQII tn alavery; and that .IIIA I) II lrt‘tig lat Ilrtnt. cannot be: we right by continuum". iWr-mg law. cannot make II. right, and ”WV-"art“ the Ilare~ovnier has n. rlaim. but nut-I tIi-- .Iuv for every iiiinute'a work he I." not nintnr- for him. ll! the alat'ehuldet iI entitled In u (IIPTIIIUIIHI, i' Inuit tonenltt |l| prtmna, eti- Le. IIIUt-Ill Iivrwa, gage. marking bnneI. hr..niJ rig Ir-nnfl. Illa-iv Dhlp‘.lfltl|’0htl Innl gai|1~r|i.liini_ Ind ail i-ilivr I “uh! ”I burly and itiiiul f-t’ timi' Iltll r‘ln riii'r, that .he hII been tuatruiiicaul the flue. In It. ittgi'ivrv iiiaiii Di Ya Stout "i" ”R ’r'ui" It (If. 71'). II rin-y aim. so I “'hatever prryuilicea may have niateil. VCID'CL 'tn. the I'Clllftlbnl' John Wi-IIr-y'. in lllt' Pl'lln‘f part «-f his car- er. it is not!t iiiattn-r ul' Iiintnrt. t iat "fl" ““3 may ouch men II Lather i he nut only o-tlltu-il [liner who lab-wed I') ”nurt- \I I0 ltInrrt I guy c‘u”.re him. but that lie I te-l niuwn tIir- prn-‘ii-‘tt‘rn they 1”"m‘lom' or "to of our tn‘ma- .eunmd. ere ho ctr-«i rinlrd It! an iii.:.,~rri: grin tutti-I mutton reopening the ' True Ilia mummy iI tine uhrtieliml fl'llO'tlin) by (W'Ifllllbel. fan feel thet it thounnda elm claim no Iflil IIIUII to hint by "Mutable ta me tn call myqu I apiritual two For leiilr_ he «na unhanred. deiolnnJera Ito athiw the organ Ian-e liy the apiiiiual Initi- art-I duty-morn he had "‘ mm"- unnoticed. I here re- Narcd. Nut-r. he liaI bcnrwrir- IIIL‘ Uiei-itr i~f (win " 501" 'tthintlie church and without Ian-I tongue. II one of cartli'l brigiii .iiini in r. m?" Int "'1 Piper to more. in hope : The eye of the p'Ill-tn'liftWI‘I le‘ timed inntiiii 1.. It I ‘ |y.annl Itth Idtiitring [Iler- the flat “I \Veein. I“ "WK-led I0 it" «I Utah: but “I " "I It! new «lieu. with go-od old 2 “It! name. II aub-cribera. l l” m- Ieen in the moral heaven-I Itlr'tl’llltlt'l by fear greater Italiia. ititrll at the rim iii-gui'iidc. J‘l’ bend on It‘ front, I felt new: 'I‘mtlia he aIuitiimi. anti-pinni-t to thanumn then ”1" "MRI. andI rayon-e to be. abl- ably argued, are nuw gain n; L'rnr'a run-rut. " "4 “bored in V'Ill'L I think our Principlea aet turtli by Itlfttl are mini IHtrmrd by h . “d ' r" fre~h Iubecribet'a from "in . acclamatinin, Il-rini._:i._ at but. luallfltl I‘lli‘l ~. iftl tnlelt '“l‘l Mt"! I aha. 'I.QM Suit» hire "II-""1 that if; I-rnee by moat of liver him w.ih Iiiin 1min a part few eltra copies at "'1 rim-late them gratuity-tidy. “‘ 0f (Ilium; nine Inn-re. I ’I‘ “ ““ hm I-Icli an extensive ciro lit the public dutncI «if lile. It would be iintn‘reatirig to tracr in the tiiatn-ry of the pen, all the change-i tutti-.h preceded and produced the reatnlt to which alluIton baa been I “mam" u. hboteef the edt- elede. lit It. might be more rIIbante than i. ION. "0t“. ”um“. I agreeable to melt reIdara; hence. In Illuaton to any I Iot‘d further II mm] elasta- the fact will be Iuflciant for the prceent. I! liaita forbid. We bava III-tin! diobmofoer trauma ta tte late- I "I" "MI City "if "7346-- a-a-I-I I“! Etet'ythtti‘ mullfl‘ to the peroonal hiatory Wally. liIII-ociated with it a peculiar tn- 9"! 'F! I tme.eepecially of hue religmm Inf fold. Ila embraced I theory ofCht-iuian duty hr ibiglir r in in out gallant. and labored dIII‘CIIIIy tu 'prartiu- what he believed and taught. “'hili ”hr-y. with I thmry leaa perfect. were dietingmah- ‘ed by urn-n inCnnuIIt-niry of life. \Vlnt l.iI opiiuiiri. IPM,IIHI what lite r- ligii-ul etymrr itce II-. It” form In iiitereating tot 1c of .lnqtllfy. To the latter. aIIClIan ia lint request- 'ei| tn I--me IurtIin r reniiei‘l a. “tion but Ftl year. til-I, I Pd'mlerhlI' encape frvniii .t. “'1 by fire. 'INLII r. nature-I Iltl Lithi r‘- dnt‘iiitig IIItIl cml III. iiii-llirt tn III“ that i' Inc-tame lie! ”I'lb"lltfl'-'pith-”1371)I‘Itl‘l-IIUIIIU'I-ttl'I" a Child film”- (I «l lt-Iu b-i iiio-r lltl lv [1 riaivlftl ln-l ' I\\'tiat in in Ud' t - k In lrtin ll'llI tip it. tliv ntir I'ltl' III'I itIdl‘tlll'li)" (IfIIIv Ia. il,n:n.ni-.tt‘ l'rrttit tlir fact that ll” lir-n ftlltl.‘ c ir‘-v Il’VIIDtls' and at tltr‘ agn- ,of right your. was admitted Ily III‘ Iatlwr to in. thin «if the ~ai‘r1inivt-L Ila-iii; int-tit away from I lion-r.- inn-'Iin-i‘, wl- 1'1 but "'rieri train til npe. nti-l ‘tiitn ting I‘m I'Tr “II"n III liia "\CF.II'I‘IIIII yi'df, hint muly I'PIA'II‘II". nan ('Piiard away hy the tti N ilit;:lli annl Ol‘tlr'li'h. axilli a turn lr ‘bll nn-I II'I.ll'|' . fl'tflnr‘ I'm ll Iln'rn'llitt-lt‘u' Il'llt. El} ‘I'I-EL‘I It" l‘tt t‘y', llnl'tl ‘_"‘Il, lil' ll. ‘ll'ii I "I'l' i.l rrlng .-i s IEV'H\‘II"‘\. uliu li rn-nliviittrtl it til hr In: 'ni iity tum tn-rI if age 'l‘nii- l-II‘I rt ni‘ nri. ivizi )1‘ in the illi- r of a iIt-Irnti l . it e ctiiiirh of I.'nf| -n~|, ra.'enl up ’I"'- as tcfiei '1 int, I-l.~rli ‘It‘i (“'llnf‘t 'i.i'i Ilt'i Ihe- pin-ta Cnifi'q-t-ri I'm-Q .4 II"! iti-Ili- r_ Y VII‘Nd r'i.l l mt 'tn'. l. Kii'l-nrJ It'll r..': r lettrrI hl'lf‘ III" wire iii ni iii: "3". IIlIII"‘ In’il. I," V!“ "I: 2'. 1' rl '"~'r‘ lti 't‘t' hell the inn. ll ni‘ hi4 llnllIII e..i be y-rruntrl. ii llu- inquiry JIII'I 'l'ai III lit-solution IDI‘ Tlll‘. 'l'lll \Illl \ UV TIII“. \bllJ‘Itbllb.“ \t \Ut.‘l\. " III «div-l, lit 1' itil HU‘I'Ii-ri't Inf llill Ii ch'. it I‘ i..~-. I it-r .. ii iii I luv, illl I’m-i i-ii' inn-l Ill inriiiii ‘ii_i.nnirilnnli.i't-- lt't’lll luilti -ll.'ti tii.ni.i it p. thlflll it-- n' inl t|i \l'i'rlt' Mi 3. I-‘l‘ « \ atit ..' ,9» i'.\ ‘ 3] “1" t .1 -~‘ ”tr llvl I'.i II It 'ii‘v."i.i lii~ - .ll itI i a' - ..| ”I ii-l 'lt I'I‘lnt i -i. 1.. . l \ ii' l.|‘ iil iliii t -nit .i' iitir n-tl l' tnr~ ti ii Q ~.. .1 - ’I’Iil na fni l\ [I it i t. pun . n.' ”it" tw". I; tititnli tn am at t h I Hi jute S’tl--n_' I‘IL‘ It i. r-IIL- Ti... 315 if» yp.'\:i.i . n an named by \V Tub," .vr viii-l I .'J \V E'Itf't I'd'etd d It! In iziiiritiinl cliati;e in hll \VIt-wii reiiiarbe t‘nat “his inathrnr'n in Iltt Linc.“l oflrihwn‘a Ann'utt Ill l‘ili‘ i.. .wn .. titr- fiill'l'l’b. atiii I311 In“ nlmtrli Hf tiai li-t III-i Ill-I‘ It a rfv-t 'bl'tl Intaul ., If,” I". end ('I R It."' fit! l't- av ‘vi filirr'til pn'Jn ll ._ “ ll'l‘lt" h.tt1"l‘t (If/HF, " I lN’IlI It'lld IIII. . . . ‘l'i II It I Hum n.‘| lf' I'ht7 i iiii.l ihi vita i-t' L'iir-l 1ii~it in” not he silenced Slum ‘fl‘I II"! I >1 It i \tntn Rt \’il 1 - 1).. | .i- ‘.i ti'i [i ~I’Il i tlir il tinirn itireriinn and \\'h,ii u my int .i-n. _n .it tln.c ' " jinI rI1‘tfl'tV1Iilllll‘lI|.l|II. Lilith tummy-La; -n...-i.n.i> Ill ii -. It'nlinI niii' iii ill 'll\ lirr‘inrh " \li ' " aiin! ll: illi. " tlin'v ari- bringing tlit' rv an. i. ‘4 I" It .‘iuym. i. .” W4...” ‘in , m 'ii. ll li-r IHP [n -ii"> am] «in I ivlv in', l“! the ~inr' ‘iily ,ii‘ 1 liI'e ii l'iiii i‘It‘I" n'riiivbrii I'J'Iit'f,‘“"' I“ ih, ,.,.,,, , .1 ml" 5; ,n “,0 Pl Hm H. dun-"(r .. .- nl vviv ii tintrv DIIII (_i-nl ll ‘n i..... ate IL in-_; ihi-hli-ia .II I .n. nirv, ileatriiw ri it It the Dirt-ant , . H .lii ., . I mi I L H -l5' mil 1 F ‘l .ii.i1 Im- iii itlii-r. ltkn- IIlt'hCl, ‘ reluu‘tlt to be com- .tl" I .iir \. Iri- IIII‘IIII ili’l-. 'l l-evi' u I In II. I , r, ;,.,;, .ii..i~. .ii. a,.ri' 1.lirit-.ei.pi nl i..”. I h, , ,i 4,1 .. ,II,‘ ' " tin-n ii I‘.|f t-l...» -. l l'. ii. it til: l-r-II tit-g I,| ll\ il'l'l vi~ i'l’n .~ t t fir H-r-t- "l‘ll'_'\ H.” l n H \i. it]... 3n iliian ' " t‘ “FINN” ‘ . “:H. I ' _. ““1 i '. Hump . . ll. 1,. (”i ._ ntt-r II". Ill-l 3 'll intl l‘il' l-I‘Ie' t'!‘ I'ltt a! flu ' Ilit‘a uii ti-i‘ Inn-live tnf I ("molt- pit-flip“? Illel l'ii ii...ii .'l"n'llt til... t .I III‘ i' t-t,|- Irl- “' ' 'I ""10“ '1 I UK |'- “I. “Hi HI- :1.»lllti'.’ an.“ I.- I‘IIII‘I'II'“ ull’ """.' SI'" “Ll“ “N”? I” _ I'ii'u It I :ninl iiiiinn'rit IIIII ll! iiint ii-llatiull hrl Mnlut‘t'f. DH! I... -I . t_ lull I In. t In inn.l Olin! le iiiPIItii by Lin _ 11ml 1".” in! h” r." (1”,. U" SII' “a. N...“ I'll- l/Jr «ii-i. 1i... ci-nrri' to II already r- qt I’I' iia' ”'4 Tu“ .' hvwr. iii-aritril, and altu yntitautnc .1 short rarerr in up,” I.“ ..t , ,,., mud. 3 5,“, ' (l/Sr'f Dirtlal. Hu-ni'ilq. .‘forlifcrilt'oa. and tyrr'yma'. .lii.1 " l’fifirrirr, " \tnl II tv- I I. ‘ t llii I f'llI‘J‘1'.‘l' In I' run. all inir rt '..r Mr N pawl I H“ l :U ”W huh" "I a {M'MIH' 3M, h“ illiiiislcro Drpmliiicnl. .... ., .i. .i i..... ,i...... .. - ""n *' "“"‘"-' Iniaiii- .| tl.i |-.ii.ls nil Iru-n-i'al iii, tlwt‘ lltt.flO‘IIQ‘lI (In "‘ :' 3”“ I” Inn” "0 “1‘ L. I l' “I“ I “"‘I niti' Ila! 't t ’II ~_ hi-ii ni'it It in II" rllOtI In ”In IIIIIAI . . . . \Z'Illv‘h»rl iin<,-.fi' I. I4nltt|< .it-,y “- ili [Vilnu if ' ‘ i.~.|~,ni,init ”Ir ”h, .,.fl.-v..1 IIII' frIl‘ll. Q“. .‘III’IIF ltll' \I’IIIIE .‘Illll‘ll'l’b. '1' ":"|‘ ”‘lm’Il h" hr-ll ' l L“! I 1.3" “I” M It alli II it lrtn ir- III‘. r‘iniuiitniL' init‘lnli Ii' Ill nth It Ivklt u ai is, in ti, l '-‘I ‘ll“t‘\t' ”‘1'” h‘ fare Ilti‘t'l. .. not I, I In" { u’lin'tiit' Iln IIIII'I tlH‘ f‘v-tlm' Hf 3 lluifla‘t '—-I hll ‘I.( III!‘ I. fir ‘12,”. ('43. n! III Mr .IIi mall}: I" 1.... '- . '~-' I'.. ~t~ l ‘ l-lni' tin in tin n I .1 l‘ . | I“ I.ioii,r ilu‘ tlii‘ar ii .tb aisi-t‘iitta Iliina rimtull'. ‘ ' . r. '. .. iii i Inin' -t inii - ‘in t- n I iii. ‘ :l. I tl"‘:II Iii iiiaan -‘ ' ‘ I I _|Ilvl litail “J‘ ll.n- fit: that tutti-Ind lu Ilt'.l‘t‘ll ‘ . \ii. I ‘ griitlr tnril .ia' envt t-wrirJI n'l rut-n, lit’ il “in "I' lliii-iii- n- t‘I my I In III Il'iti i ii at lII I'illll Iiin~ri il liitrrila IIlll .-i inlii'ii uiitl It'l IIllt‘ll , mn' iii -- mien-div; il H54? III." inflame the.“ ‘ , \ . lv-I l. N' Ill .irilni Ii llil' hilt J.: H - l Ill"'t ' ,. . . . _,. IIIII liii It! \- iiiilti a] .JIL Ii rt \ t- I! print iltiun I ‘I’ I‘ . I 1.7.. | I I. I). l u . ii .. -|il u .iit'. .il iI-iiinn L'in‘l‘ II ’ ' II I ii. i.» talnt i-i-iilri I-n IIIIIH' tit iIiniL ilir- iiiivliiel . n,- -v.. _. i ,.~. .it - I " 'ti l» I t i Ii» ‘ll ta i Inelil Ilill t,t itil I:i-' '1 (~ 1"." ‘ I I "I n l )1. I. n "H.” "h“ \l' n \' “HUM” M "I '“I fir-”lily 'I'II'I‘I'T. ii ilt'l'lb' ' nul IU I'tt t I ., ‘ i.. iii. Ill]l|i-Il\ lrr ,,, In," I H mm My,” p ‘ "a“ “'I- I'»“ r. .tiiil rI'l' l NM .1 l lit-I 'Unalii - IIU‘I‘. M. “iii I. . . , . i ' in I eh i It | I i .- tn r.” ' 'i tlil- l/- U. that I iii.it " ‘ .H‘ '3‘ mi I"? g‘ ‘clmm “1 " “,‘ O ” nolii. “ tin-t t‘aiiii-nt Ilntlt'lt ilirinitl utilinnut (tiplatn- lull. I" ['1‘ .. | I": i . 1" ' ”Hm" {I " “ , niialinnii I.iLr Iinr IIIIN‘II ul IIII‘ I I" iri-g, iiI Iki I a- I miiii nfh-anh 1r hum ieI- is lit-1r. I' Il-i I h It‘ \‘ r am; In . \ e ii in » Ly “n.1,- ' nrt‘ Initll tailtai it . and Ir" rnne ta note that (time. - nnlt‘ tin ‘iiini . iivrtiiiJoni-u and ti.e Inn‘f'tlll ate _ l . r’ .. anti prh-vr t-nnt l I it Ia .i i- J.» i,- I t' F 4 I ‘hn' n” 0-" ‘ In”. .0 with n the tr- .n I ill :t- lli uetre ~ ' n . ‘4 tin n r ' ' , . lP' it '.’I rim if. ien-n ... ii, i-t um . hie-'Ii I {If n “2 tlI , ‘ I ‘1, '1.“ “’l H 'llvn t‘litiirli lit-Eli- uric but Ieldniui heard. Ind , . - Il‘7‘l ivi~ ' 'll. t . , . > I 1‘” 'III .. limi .\'.i in' . .n. t‘ in 'l art‘obit- '.'- lltfllk" ”1 I" " ‘ ‘ ' ‘ liul lent lltudllil,‘f‘.\ urtr turn to flu Itrrrla 1 hr . n it ’Ii nv fund and ranirivnt. Ill\r l It‘ll’llt‘u ‘, ' ’ ttr“ ".1' l 'I'i -- Ll'l in -.. .1 I t ladl. tli t l- " . nail m;- tnt the \a.i.nnta .nm In l‘fyihlfl uere auc- lliurru.t i in h\ tninlrtit - I Tim \I I". . _ , in 1' ii“ ii.’ I - M ii" I' -‘ , I rr.:-hi d Pl‘i i i if. I“ litiiir- LI Mame Jltt. il Vtthtll\llt" tut ‘ . ' l' II “III “Mm." "l" "uh”, 'n'dm." “ a 3"“. ll r :I d tlt ("iaie urn du tiled til all their ii 3- :-..: . I . .. . ‘4'! ii I l : " ”:‘l r V~ " ”J I,“ “H ‘ ‘ h I” ll ' In... t r rif Jo-aiiat lit ~l ' a 'l I :ti-. II .I, Itiiil I'll I r 7 I . ‘ e I tuiii IIL' ii IIPJI 'a’ttit-nreii-rlind (‘Jl‘i‘ ni- t -_ " l-vr P ) r'” "' I ,I“" 1'37""“hm'm "‘ r ‘y ””3“ .3... It'ln with eternal ch-rv ; " ‘2 Tan ll .110. . [From the RKIlmond Chriauaa Advocate.) I'M ' ‘2 l I‘ i I I lil", I H t l1‘\-‘.Un,‘y[.'ll‘l‘7e A". I "1 yr. Ihtl ”‘2'”. (Or'tflftl ‘2'”..‘1 I‘lllh': 1",; :2 'i‘ . 'g' ~‘ mt W 1"“ T“ “m"- ltfl',- .- ....i n ll ; ii. .., iili. ii. I Iini- ltd'lvt’u Ii: l “Him; I ,n‘. :ul mtIclf and to be I ni‘ The plain of .ltidea were aileinL Her ninun- ‘Ilir II ' .' I-. . Y my”, R fl; '0, H" SM" '3' "m m M “Kg"; iaiiia llllt‘tl lftfr-olritn'l iiii h gt. and IMO” h liy l‘-l ’nv' ‘n- It h ' lll' ('th mm” ”,I u . n” 6‘... r”, I”. w ”c, of mm, (M, : -t.iinvnita Ieennied gilded wi'h liylit reflected Iruni "'3 I " ' ' ‘H ‘ W "m" H "V “I r?" “"1““ and tin l rnn'nhl n thing: dear to ma- th'tt ltiiav hen!” The H! '" chum“! I'm ”In-”I". U! at .i .i..i -ii..- i- iiiiii‘m .Iio w." tl i»! ii a! dc- (I. m m. mmmw "m “I hate "‘.;."d of ""v Inn, and the queen at night ICIlll‘tt‘d lll‘f gent e ('e [L] ‘i. t. i' 'i_\' ll Ilti“-~I'ul ttf‘i OI lltl“ l’tllh L‘HIH ll-iril 10.0.; Phil II. I7 2 COL Ill. 15. ACII M‘I'b‘ Ifu'nnd. .I-hl" flu- h Illd Illa-Cd Ill'l! M ii.) u ~.~r" tn- rti-ry niaii'a (OM‘ICDCC in the u ‘24. Illffillll[,lnhl. witli the lilllC lnnibnt that gaunt». Hm! I gm it t, at " '.'I --r i ‘2 in Ipuliu- inrin-u-nie tin-r the eatevidal P'I'n. . i. I "alnllr' It; " at-mil pvt-fam- INI vain Il‘t‘l'an 1. real-1‘ qutctlv Oll their dm'ity II'I’U'F. Mt“) Eta III"|'L" "3 l liii. ii 2'“. lln'l ili. I take cart-ti-1 URIln'YCVI mm the It-Itl 'I lit- IliepI-n-tdu elm *1 .lviiil I wills! quinqiinnn. min I: iLni gt'r‘ult‘r anti-r. ornlil. lwit l’te Salim-mi ti i_il II I li- tre'l ," " '1 Tim. IL II. innv .it-in”. f i‘v-nnt n nii.in‘ win. It Iri- III .5 ll: I an. ‘ir l-iahriw tnt‘il" "l'i‘ir ."J tutti-fin ‘7I'_‘l" v lI|\ll"f1 the ant . »-l " gum: III run tine i.z , Iii Ia. l‘.‘ and ‘IIIPH’ [vb-pet mrti -ll 7 i [in l mate it my bueinneto "tratifii to Ill men. l-hethvr Jeea in than the iiecruivy ril repent Iorc tt-warda God. and taith in (‘hriat Jet-ta; and that -' there tI no other name under heaven giver. whereby we may be ear-d ;' making thna [tn-palJ .“r (TI-rut the Iubyect of my mintutry? Acta II. IQI. ACII Ir. IQ. “it "I ‘l i1 ' A.‘ {.i- i .>ii .,’ I't 1| \ri'irtln“ ae ii. ‘l-illi, .’ 2..“ II. l.'i III’HIt‘fI. I Do I [Inch to the peopleflmt ray-II”. but charity. tothoae who difl'er from me in opinion, Chrtat .1 mil. llie: 11ml. IIItI tny-rll'aa [Ill‘ll Ion-tit and even ‘ blen- end pray for them that are my .nr (fiimt'a IIII ? " '2 (tr tv 3. anemic-I?" Kntiii. In It. and an. I. I. in my Iiuily and my PIPOIIIInfi."IIhCI Do I brthI inyaelf blameleaa an a ateward of l heed to my dirtrine and mr . alto-it-iuina. l-‘I that God, not Iell' Iilled. not Inn-i angry. not Inert In 'I may aavn' iiiyaclt lI-II them that beat me?" Lime nur flitln liirre. inn butler. no Itriber: I Thu. 11. Ill ilmer of Itnaiiiiuliiy. '\ lover nf good m- n, Iober, De I ‘ nntelt (ib'f‘f the smile of rue-it be one that Jun-t. hn-ly. tr-niipn-ro‘r- 7 "fit. I. 7.8. iniu-t z-ve an lCt‘O int. being anltv-i'viiia tlnt I may Do I ilmly cudraior "to give in Menu in any lnln- it with yty. and nut with grit-I." Heb atii. . thinly, that the “LIILUU’, be out blamed E " 9 Cor. I7. 1| 1 . ' 7 IL- I walrlimer niyarlf in Ill HUI". aml phcee. Itt‘TlO! “ :ttltn‘I ct mr- I'D-'Il‘tnf‘ a - II In all) and in bear that Qf Diligrnn in the ."tniatiy. -a rmumid nif me. in make .- full print of my min- .. tall}. IIHI It) ndnnrti the iIn-trii-e of Cut! my 8‘- Iln I '- no Iltenitl tire to rt-ailnii '. mnl~iutinn . . .. g L vianur ’ 'l liiii. lt. 5. In ii |0 Ill-l nii ily ’ Hi) I read I III)" rlllll‘tll til Srni luft'. lituilv. n--|vt “tilt in tlie .Vnn Vl'l‘l'hltlr'". "it! that In. 'lin' (Iirnl ”(I‘llhl'. that I “It, Dr be'lll‘t I ‘- .iii-- J I Ih t .t' inn-tuning oi the I-bld tl (i-id". l‘nnni. tl'. lil llu I Ii-ilr iiinr-lf l4: tit-It- I'i'nL'E.IIHI gm- liiii‘ I‘I' nlm l\ [ii the ii, that my Pfu’lllll; may I?“ ii'l'a' In all: I Itiit. It. IS. ‘ Ih- I I~\P ttIn‘I-1.i'l)‘.Il under tbe eye hf the .\ I. - . l n ‘ Met a t "m! ”h. ”d “ m | my "u "d my ““1 Ii‘l Irvin} forth a "H'Half' ttf dertnirtton ” til e. and w ngw‘iivl my III in. an m hi Ihlo tti ' - rn- .lii-il Death, " and you shall be “tufted " I g \l‘ II|I a 3 mil «run. I t-f Int-iii It III! In lit ii r . ‘nl “t l' ” "W‘wr ‘M w“. sir-rd l‘r-Itlt ' i. II" I n“ " "'CI'” I" ’I" "P ""Y ‘I li' "“ '-' I’ll.‘ .. I u H ' f‘r I [it n . tatttt and lie all!“ ion. .i', .i'iv ‘- Irhi h III'II Ivan gitt‘ti ma fur the Ptlilin‘iitiiiliol LII? A ' ' . 4. . - . P‘I'ft’ alrn- ii-l tint : tual-at l I iii H ln-l I It... i.ti 'It a: “h (“‘r ., , . Itii I «wt, n! fir a- ranszlili; tn- Iii-no the IIItt: . . _ _ , , ' . _ \ml Ill it t .o i' It‘ll! \b|lr1tIillltlIII' warp ariil t m FI‘III' u! my and l't’f. “‘“I' ‘l “l", 'pf’h I “ I uii ll ”IIIVI II t' J. - ['1 re Ill thi-t winter " . ., . _ .I" . i . . . 3 i . , I“; l ”"1“" ‘ ""‘ ‘ 'h m n u. m ii~i.t..-.i li- iiii, ~ ".4. lm wait Aitimm- the min - i i ' It‘ i - i' " "-"‘ t ""n‘ "1;" .J " til! ‘ j. 1' umli-n urinua wit (my harm and. 5! fund. and H" :“Mm‘nh my “Wm" ' u c "y 'e “ tnr.'inn.i~.alicl phsnivo, and ltl-bl-lllll". and ba- tiit’lt 'l he iii—inplc all! the” ll'Jlk Ind die " A.“ I (I'llrr‘l‘lnl‘d t- lair all pr per npnnr‘vini .. I Am nmh M . "“1””. M tic-Itnipr-1 li iiie “UNI III I-Ienni. IlIlI NJ at aI-a- "I” ”Ml \uut theme u ILIllul. and “Ill .uc_ t‘ItI. I‘. III II" I”" y ”f iliqv Liln Itr ii_ n-t III' -»..| ' .‘ 'HL.' '3 ”I: ;.“ szt'rIJd "J'LI‘II‘D- 'I III i‘liiirn h lirlls Irgan I'I lull. Ittd the mourn- I ~ I i ' I ‘I. III T“: . f '1' ”q ' ' “2 A! I tn lni \t.ilb. Ilt'il‘lrIl l’u' tl'tt'ls, lliil lli' h'llott In . i l i ~ ' . - i ‘b . ’ ”H" "‘ " u " n 1 ‘ ’ ” iii-i Ill- ii.,.iii.i I, Jlitl IIIV II'J’II' fiu ihi-iiiiiiieli-r uf II-l il-r; [ii ~liit'l' iiiy' n'Iti' In: if Iat'tl 11"”. :tv tl I)! re Illnt'l' Death by i. ’p- iliii - llin- slim-ii IIIII the lambs n1 liin ‘ . ' I ... - . ,iiii [Ill ‘t'J‘t II>II liq-i Ilmr |ii exult in" the aur- fiii lt' .lii'iia-| II-,Il I-ii‘y n-iliiitiinm tut tl-e hinn'in-i- nif my 1III5ftIIt’tltl). “with and [lit Grate. “I It" hungry," -' II-Itl Iatd the (flaw. " give me 5 .i, ,y I.- it "but hn-u bttow I unl|_ nosii‘ru—e (intro; , -. ni til b Ill '4‘." Initial lItI‘nI |I\ \IVIII tiiiii 'I itl putt. Iilrilt_ "t‘, t-I llii t v'l .If'lh H " ,\i-I ii hit to Illlt'. iliiy ari- huhmngt .. lubed 'v lllloltt I n -‘~- I LII." .l [tvl'le' i..ii ii i.. n - i It [till it I I! It i] on tlt‘ ”H. "u". "I II I 'n" "‘ ‘_ 'M ' H ‘ my ‘ y 'J ‘ ‘ ii » .ii nil-l lltl'l. uhu fairt-nl that tune '. ..‘...'nii‘. nli-lin‘xrtiir' ‘ u.-- i.-i~~itt IIII"7-I'I|F\‘1.II'I‘ sttiii ‘tli III ‘. ,. .. m ,. . l4 ' .t rm e ’ “ I” I“ 'J 1‘ l" h “m" L n I. h liiil nI rllr'l. tiiii grtvliially III< JIIII limlly dumb to Chane IIIX'III \\ III I”! i H... II llit' 5.0:, .III I tt'aluui etid Ltilgt‘lil I» Pr'v I III ‘ u “U“ a I 'II‘F‘.‘ I I .I . in'.'.' it ' W. .-,. ,l - I \ i-l in I... " I i i. i.. ,. i... i..; i Illt Tln‘ J. - tI-i-' " 0f (“Nit/mil I’m.» r em! “qr ml iirr 'II.'II “In. \I a~ fiiii-l “I cum. in ii . . ml I! -i .-l-l l- , mi \\ .- riiacn'hii‘ In i‘n-ntttt ”i l "V I" in} ‘ {I "I It ”H". N “I H ill I" ll“ nit mm W . \ lli -u-itr.u'tt-i| Iltt‘ liJ'nzti-I IltllthlliL‘. It In lit. It' I ..- “"'l I. .\| I‘ I I Jt'nl i- III“ 'n'nu,-sn' .. II t I I! we r l-- |I iii-i i.l p tyiiif (Iii b “I It' " ii.’ in I... .~ tlii i.‘ in-i\\ Int In:tii",fulln\lrd lr)’ i'r-t,tliit Ills-1V ’lll ‘l'.i\' iiiii .t i. I-wlr (""l-l'll' I in”. "- IAI‘I l' . ;- . I ililiii. ‘ " n ~ii t. .l a-iil n- I .i-i-i l iniy incrn'a-c tn the h I ;, a luiikin liiaitr-i woman Inbrnae, hue- .g in 0' Jain": Mali ti '3 hanil [‘4 -.--mi a rut .riiiii: drtirikavd. and who left ”a l in: .e ii in. immune to o‘l’rr "pr-yr". liri trilurert in lime in taart_ nhtlat he apent hie riir-o It .ii I, and iri-e nnain- a. fn-r II‘ men. iiii,e arid iii-int ‘ at r tnIrn Arid nma they are :iit'i.i nit hit our Y't"fl_ and ‘0! nnv f"l>'l- la~ Hri'in'n-y lit the Purine. of III» hath‘lt‘d himiltlli.i'h0 1; AI" lin‘hlayl‘ IJII' I I I rI-iit III. nn', hit .I 'Iflll l, I ""11 IIII'Hi ii I II lll\l|l‘_' ‘ .u ii. i.nl i‘,i 'AI , t'i ..-. . tr 7 ' . lat-l ‘ in-ln'I-l h Illn'r t 'l'll II in twin litr 1......iii i i-ii-- llt-‘It ll tli but In a Ilt'llftl' iii the” the anti of the r B'l. Hill they may nibitnri Iain | Of (‘orttenelier It ta my cortetmt enileaior tin-'Imld fail the true I-tllfi.lnl I gnu-d (OILOICIII'U Ii-yrtlin, Irat iii-It ['1‘ a alitp-ererlt inf one. I altould luv! the GUI“! Ill-u," l 'I‘Inii. l. l‘.'. lhi I In nail II It) be an ‘ example of r'l-rie- iiana. in ‘ntt‘l‘ in t'i‘flbff'llltln. in charity, in faith, 'tb punly: ' I Tim. iv. I‘l; that in “all thing! l mu Ihuw my-aelfa [Iltrln ofgwd wake?” TIL htI t‘t-Iiiii [ . .eIlJtlgh IT-nttenl it to I Item". Do I endeavor to walk upnghtlv anioneat MIN and di nothing by perttIlity? [Tim v.91. II my convert-tion am and reliytour.aoaa and had clnaed hie eyea in reatlearnaaa. in mintItr-r edificatton to the beam? Bph. tr. iiardtart of bia Ilurttbera hoard around I’II pil- "ll. ifow. and with magic tnttth IrouIal the ncret l n I .. e --nt_ . a _ _.J LII-_ -A-_ _____ -r b..- ....t. 0.. AI...» " -‘- --'-1II- nf II|Ill i 9 wk Jlilnl Iii. lltinltt't|\ \\ I! nli~a iniio'il and and m l'l lii~ ilisttan‘tinii. he wati‘lietl the” flu he by night. It at d on the, ground like tliv (Iti'll Slit-v-ltet-l nnflhn ahv ep In-liu “ Illil I'll-I Nlllrfi I” ly llll lt’qnl '- [‘I'u‘htli r’- eru- piiueiing urn-ii the Int-Iii inf Inmplietir Iii-riivalln-n; IIMI finally in“ nl Ill IIID‘If t-iiriila ‘tlie prwiiiee iif FJI'II plightr‘d her WIIILN. aml lorr- tlir fire iii the In'i', n‘i‘llbl‘ll a gviit’v bone that I‘an- y. In-lrln‘ within the bounde of illyll’lllofl. new" the night ' 7 in bnghtnmaod mantlea nature in enrhantrnant. The Jew. applaud under the palltng yobe of bondage. bad ofl'ared hie prayer for deltnnfie. . :whnle hia forestall caught light from the etereel ‘LIIMG. They even prevented the tugtuaatcbee. and relua d that ill . c wk would Huh-DUI umber dny d parteiL Tin- "IltInlxIll w.ie waiti I The ancient t‘li-irch at (LG. In whom pertain d the law and lb? Cnvrnanta, the plot-teen and the will 0" ptntpltccy. 'n- Iufll my (ht. ‘lld lttglil lta Iii-pf Imunil the [fun-ll.“ nit Jerusalem . while her eel- vant- etc-i famred the aunt the» of She looked out for the plunioua appearing at “the Inmlvrfel ('uunec'hnr, the “I"!!! (Sort. the Eyed-Dun. I‘iivher. the Prince at peace.’ \"hile a! ii... weir in OIP‘CIIII in, and the p-oua rigiied lo: de- lntrrann'e. the humble alieplterde abiding in the :6I'III._ whee II were wet aim the new of ‘mcltt. w-ie riiori~ town-e than all they. Por' :qtillO they lltunnght tin tlim thingu— lh'imll I; aiidih-ii hnghtne-I lighta up line loan r w-nrld.‘ tiahri l Ippr-It'l and declarea: ”For uniii yiiu 1a horn thte day, in the th of and. I Sni- our, which tI ('hvtIt the Iaird." A rail-Int b‘tld ful- llriwg Ind hCJ'Ptt'y lhll.tc, mt Ila-Int; ytI INN. .In:I more min Inn TC'I‘II ni-tra II it neI--. oteabe fiiiiti haul the min-tun- oi ch rt‘ urn-n their earn. Their clad lc- n1 heath. catching the ylnwtfl: lilirine nf tnapnrai-nni, echnn b cl the riding: I! great Jny which are to- Ill people; and heiieen. warib Ille Iky remund with the lany-oap of Ji-timali. n-rid- tIl-Iul hy itmntala y-t in- untiirehen- anhle: -(Slnry to Grill in the hnuheat. tl‘ll" 0| lamb, and tual will to m-nkind." Hail, the Im- lninvrtal (ii-I Invara a babe n-n earth? tion-Id the II. Ilent b-nt fall from the eyea of the ptnll‘. 'tntat earth and heaven were throngs-l with inhahttIme nfrnm theaivirit w-vrld. — om tlin- vortex of h- avIn'e hl‘h concave. I wee-mp throng. etth eager yore. view the Ihfllllfl‘ arena in earth. ‘Sirnce he [liter-I heeun.‘ and all adore. The Il erhrtde ; ner- rut-rpnei red. It rt. like the Apoil. Paul I. he yiniirnen-d toneiile DItt‘Kue. ft'll pigetrate on the frmmtl. Yea. wh Ie they drank in the into one mad- nfihe angel. they felt quite on the urge of lit-urn, Like Pnter. Jet-nee and J- lib. m. the "mint int'trIn-fip-rati it, they were hunt to dwell f-m-Ier tn Iurli I place. Surely mat the Spirit of the rill-tr:- ua, I 110 looked for reiteii.pii0i- ii. bred. by tar-me myatn rin-ua. .tICIIlI yet mllll', uni-Mae. a II aimed nt nthiin-the retreat-ing of IlIcin depart- rnl: and they wn~hed fur the day. But the Ilir-p- herd-n Inltll nu "own I - Bt-thlinl-enn. and ere tlioae thinge 'Iittlt are come to isien tho-re." 0 my Inul. couldat thnu but no attli them. unworthy ouch minor-any. tit-nu woulrl-t fiillow It humble diItIncn thee-v holy men, and. like thorn. Dru-irate tliyaelf hi fur“ tine infant June. And with nhe wnae ment uf the Eat ail-.1 led by I radi-nnt CHLJ-rtlrneyd to VII" Neflt ft of the tentld. then wo-vldat "We! I Inc-thy ewrifi e. 'n were-t thuu the nu firee J (jut = Tin-y tune I broken and caittrite Ip-ntt and I It- ly life Take then upon thee the yoke of l‘httan. and bear hie burden. eo at hia coming thou mayat be found ofbttn iti peace. flout. Dying Rich. The following linea from the I'nlted Siam Ga— uttr. hate the el0quenca of truth to recommend them — ' A it active huainetia mart ta aratmnal main. and a Messing in the cummumty' He bevy-a in are“- l‘i-iii-g exert-tar- thr- Inlet-it) which God haa ‘I'en ‘hllh. obit-h. of Half. De I bleed". In him He :[nr' rmphni-mrni t0 the hand of induairy, which ia far better H In gnu-u fin» to the uni "lPIt‘VQd, ’l'lirpr IN the legitimate and rain-rial nut. if u. llint hnisimsa tautsulle and It'al'It felling—the {'nllfirlhdll in! the active pun-era and ynrnntii-niiun nf ‘IfllIllrer But their deatreofyrnI-iuy In. In merely i.n die IM'II. to one M the moat fn-uliah tutrntinne 'that not entered the heart nnf fooheh rnan Expe- rir-r-re In. full) and uni-fartn-rily taught the Iraaun. thit much ucalth lift in Item. iI. eight timcI wt nil ten. hunt I bI-‘smir. but a tune I" eat-ede- llltll heyiiilt-I and I]\ttII all the manly yin-utte— [in [It‘fl'fltntlfl lr'.il!\ ln' I'ntlludf'mrtil. IbrrER, I“ finiam t‘\ft..tlr-Iinlt and run» The NH": \aill yet I't-lll" “lull ment at uralth Iill It mac enough in iiiaki- I gradual dl!|{linlllth of their pro I'fI" iahm- Il‘.tl‘_‘--IlUI Innate-cine, but "refillth lip...“ .y y..i.- at. eye in the uae ulnicli in math of ',i ,i..t liaitii-i'inti- in the strateat Plt'l-\tni‘l\l that iii .ililt u tunable of fitting, that of Ia-riii; it do 3...] in nthera. Tilt-y \I’III din-tutu ilir- fiultah .aIi :ialinin tif ' dyztig “I It,‘ Illli the JI-HHI‘I t‘rtlntfl irt‘rrtiiiii that tho-ii lit-in anti-titer or later Ii.l dte "I: t l l . . . . .. ,_ ._ l A Bt‘llt‘l'oll'lll Matt. Mr. N. R. Cr-b't. I pi-nua you”; merchant. con. ‘MI’QI ethane oi the Bet-tint churrhra In Briton. .i the l1“ 0' twen'y-thren- drew up and IolImIIy lwtw riberl the lullu'lln' rn'ntarbable dorinmei-t. - Dy thc F'II'I if God. I will meet he tortb 'mnre than 550 C00 ! By the wire at GM. I will give one fourth of all it e ni-t iniotita of my bueineaa to charitaule and lffllcilllll ueea. If I am ever worth ”0.“. I 'III '1'. one-half ofiny net profita. And if ever I am earth NICO. I will live ilIire‘e-fnwtrtli. and the whole In" ‘50 (‘00. I" IIOI' ‘ me (5nd, or [in to I more faithful Itewara and aet lme a-ide.‘ I Ttieae rreolutinne were faithfully Inert till he died, It the age ofthi‘ty all. And on a death bell Ihe “id to a (mud — ' by the [rare ofGod—noth- Inf elI-~—hy the [rate of God. I have ben-n ene- liled. unler the trifltiertre of the. rewluttou, to give away more. Ihell "0,000. " A Infill". ‘ Mr. 5.. I member at I Barth-t cbnrch. owned I large and rat ellrtii tum, Ilitth. with other enur- c- it til incime. and much "If denial, t nabled him ‘in hndc no me griaind. and other 'IICl-. I cor-id. . rat-1e Iuiii new year Hu reanlutmne eere tint in git i . except to tl-r pantor of the chunh a art-ell 'IHINIHI yearn He died It. In adv-"CHI I‘e. . wit—pinned of III. [twp- rty by will, but neter m- 'tiivrteil a word DIN-0| the hidden treuura. After ‘III. death. I pm wII accidentally I: end. There «we oonl n—aaona io believe I corianderabla Iuai lattll tee buried. and will remain there. done: no one the tent yard. Ir. Cobb in ihirtreo yeara ' "Iwaymie thIIMOJIJJnd diedrnch. Per- Ire the aevvunt given yearly to hi. pavtm ta n. lcludel‘ to raid Intn. It can‘t be mu lf‘ rod, Lhtlt '25:. .‘..': "ole coutnhiuwrrta Hr nut" and I l lotherthtnr. dunno I u- .- . t . " 70 letter from John Wesley to Francis Asbury. The lettering and the printing of the True Wesleyan was judged by other newspapers and readers to be attractive and professional for its day. There was some reservation about the engraving of Wesley, although it didn't surface until 1846 when the engraving was dropped from the mast- head, bringing a response from the Western Recorder: "We are pleased that the worthy publisher has seen fit to remove from the head of this paper that ghostly portrait of the venerable founder of Methodism."15 All of the editors of the True Wesleyan during the Civil War made a practice of re-examining its appearance at the end of each year, and would make changes, including a new masthead, in January of each new year. The wide-ranging guiding principles that Orange Scott had discussed in his first prospectus for the True Wesleyan implied that the publication would have variety. A large amount of antislavery news and editorials left no doubt as to the primary concerns of the paper. Scott believed that in order for the paper to reach a larger audlence than that which a specialized opinion paper would touch, however, he must broaden the content of the 1133 Wesleyan. In describing a "spirited antislavery paper," the Democratic Freeman, Scott reflected this philosophy: A considerable portion of the paper is devoted to inter- esting miscellaneous reading. This is a great improvement on the leading anti-slavery papers of the country, which are devoted almost entirely to slavery and abolition. This makes them too heavy and dry for most readers. If from one-fourth 15Ibid. 71 to one-half of the space in these papers were devoted to the right kind of miscellaneous reading, it would greatly increase their circulation, and thus advance the cause. 5 Scott, and to a lesser degree, his successors, Lee and Matlack, adopted the design of publishing an antislavery paper that appealed to the family. It offered sections for young readers, called the "Children's Department," and another column entitled "Parents." Beyond theSe specialized areas, there generally appeared poetry and some kind of fiction or nonfiction narrative for family reading. It was not unusual for these stories to have some kind of moral lesson interwoven in them, such as "The Rose Bush," a narrative in which a mother explains to her daughter the gripping story of how her father was saved from drunkenness through a temperance lecturer. The "family" approach was well accepted by True Wesleyan readers. In the matter it contains, as a family paper, it is second to none of its size with which I am acquainted. A sister told me the other day, that her children have been very much interested in reading it since the second volume commenced. It has always been read with interest, as an advocate of our principles. But in addition to t at, it now has the merit of attracting the general reader. The True Wesleyan also tried to appeal to a broad reader- ship of adults, including the businessman and the farmer, The True Wesleyan could very well have been the only paper upon which many of its readers relied for news. The weekly publication 151bid., March 1, l844, p. 43. :— 17Ibid., April 6, 1844, p. 55. -—— 72 assisted the farmers with advice on agriculture and another section showed the latest market prices in meat, fruits, and vegetables. The literary person found special notices and reviews of books and periodicals. Readers interested in government found in-depth reporting on the activities of the United States Congress. The "General Intelligence“ department kept readers informed on a variety of subjects, including the latest foreign news that had come off ships landing in the harbor at Boston, the early publish- ing home of the True Wesleyan. ”omestic news was broad in its coverage also, hitting the elections, tragedies (primarilyepide- mics), reports on orphans, suicides and widows--aided from the U.S. Office and Register Department, Supreme Court cases, and exploring expeditions. "Religious Intelligence" was also a regular part of the paper. There were reports on and announcements of reVival meetings, and discussions on church growth. Though the paper was not wholly dominated by the devotional articles (sermons in print), which traditionally plague conservative religious journals even today, there was sufficient material of this nature, usually appearing in a section entitled "Communications." This column was an "umbrella" under which lengthy letters, written to the editor for publication, appeared. When news and feature stories were scarce, the "Communi- cations" of pastors and laymen filled the columns of the religious newspapers of the day. At times, these pieces were of a high quality, usually depending on the ability of the writer. For in- depth religious discussion, however, the True Wesleyan relied on 73 its own leaders or respected scholars for articles that were printed over a series of issues. “Wesley and Atheism" was one that Scott printed, for example. Lee frequently liked to furnish discourses himself since he was a student of theology, and, in fact, wrote a book, Lee's Systematic Theology, which became an important work to the Wesleyan Methodist Church in the training of its pastors. At times Lee would get carried away with the length of his articles. On one occasion he described the front page as “rather heavy" because practically every column was filled with one article on theology, despite his efforts to "abridge" the discourse.18 Although it was not uncommon for news stories and other material in the True Wesleyan to clearly set forth some kind of opinion, the editors of the True Wesleyan always reserved a special column for the official editorial of the paper. The primary con- cerns of the paper, slavery and episcopacy, received the greatest attention. Scott, Lee, Horton, and Matlack, however, freely dis- cussed other issues in and outside of this column. 'The.issues included, for example: intemperance, freedom of discussion, popery, Christian perfection, the need of land for the American Indian, the ten-hour week without reduced wages, native Americanism, education, physical fitness, idleness, the mail system, prison reform, pacifism, experimental holiness, and education. Scott and Lee, who edited the True Wesleyan during the period under consideration in this study, held an open attitude 18Ibid., Jan. és, l845, p. 15. 74 toward publishing articles of diverse opinion. This openness toward free discussion came from the conviction of the editors that truth was not to be feared. It was also, perhaps, a reaction to the denial of publication that the abolitionists had received earlier from the Methodist press. Two subjects that both Scott and Lee tried to side- step in the True Wesleyan were politics and secret societies. They were not successful in either area. The editors had concluded that they would try not to com- bine religion and politics. The emergence of the Liberty party with its appeal to antislavery men, however, prompted an occasional response. Horton reported in 1844 that he had voted for James G. Birney.19 And Scott, who had pointed out his allegiance to the Liberty party, questioned the inconsistency of an antislavery Wesleyan to be withdrawn from the pro-slavery Methodist Episcopal Church, but not from the pro-slavery Whigs or Democrats.20 The ultra conservatives of the Wesleyan Methodist Church forced the issue of membership in_ secret~ societies intoi” prominence with 'a barrage[ of “emotionally charged communications to the True Wesleyan. Scott and Lee both tried to avoid any confrontatiqn on the issue by letting the conservatives vent their reactions in the paper, even though both editors were Masons. Scott even went so far as to point out that twenty-two 19 Ibid , July 20, 1844, p. llS. zoIbid., Feb. 22, l845, p. 33. 75 years earlier he had joined a secret society, but no longer had connection with it.21 Even though he defended free discussion, Lee showed that he was growing weary of the discussion of the issue and its poten- tial divisiveness. He suggested that the Wesleyans conclude their discussions. This might have happened had not a prominent Wesleyan, Edgar Smith, head of the Alleghany Conference, given the anti- society writers stature. The controversy finally resulted in passage of a memorial that stated, "We will on no account tolerate our ministers and mem- bers in joining secret oath-bound societies."22 There was ambiguity surrounding the measure in that it was unclear as to whether the resolution was “mandatory“ or "advisory." Whatever the reason, it violates the principles of one of the original founders of the church, LaRoy Sunderland, an Odd-Fellow and Mason for twenty years. I deny the right of any church or conference, civil or eccle- siastical, to forbid my belonging to a lodge if I chose to do so. .. . ‘any will say [the measure will not be] enforced here in New England. But I respect myself and the Church too much to be willing to have her rules or resolutions suspended or disregarded on my account. . . . It was a measure concocted, planned and executed, almost by one individual [Smith], who seems to have taken it gpon himself to think for the entire Church on the subject.2 In determining to what extent the True Wesleyan qualified as an aboli- tionist paper, the events, leading up to the founding of the paper, 211bid., Feb. 1, l845, p. l8. 22 Ibid 231bid., Nov. 16, l844, p. l80. Oct. 19, 1844, p. 167. 76 in the lives of Orange Scott and those persons who joined him in seceding from the Methodist Episcopal Church suggested that aboli- tionism would be an abiding concern of the editors. It was indeed. Even though Scott followed the philosophy of presenting a versatile, family paper that would be highly marketable, abolitionism was clearly the dominating theme. News columns carried announcements of antislavery meetings and urged readers to be present. There were regular reports of antislavery efforts taking place throughout the nation. A wide range of stories reported such news as: con- gressional debates over slavery legislation, progress of the under- ground railroad, Sarah M. Grimke (an antislavery figure), a reprinted article from the Louisville (Kentucky) Daily Journal by Cassius M. Clay (one-time slaveholder who turned abolitionist), an investiga- tive report on discrimination against blacks on coaches, and many other items. Many of the antislavery articles were related to religion, most likely because many of the abolitionist were reli- gious and opposed slavery because it was regarded as a great sin and a moral evil. Writers for the True Wesleyan would keep close watch of religious bodies, particularly when they met for national conferences, and report what action or inaction was taken on the question of slavery. Aside from the news stories, much of the miscellaney or general feature material was of an antislavery nature. Stories described in the most desperate language of the writer, the agony of slavery. The language used to discuss the slaveholder was no less descriptive. One writer, who signed his article Beta Sigma, 77 concluded a discussion of compensation to slaveholders, stating that the only compensation they merit is "prison, stocks, thumb screws, gags, marking knives, branding irons, bloody whips, iron yokes, and gall chains, and all other tortures of the body and mind for time and eternity, that he has been instrumental in bringing upon the slave."24 Poetry from such prominent writers as Henry WadSworth . Longfellow likewise proved the abolition tone of the paper: The Slave In The Dismal Swamp In dark fens of the Dismal Swamp The hunted Negro lay; He saw the fire of the midnight camp, And heard at times a horse's tramp And a bloodhound's distant bay. Where will-o‘-the'wisps and glowworms shine, In bulrush and in brake; Where waving mosses shroud the pine, And the cedar grows, and the poisonous vine Is spotted like the snake. Where hardly a human foot could pass, Or a human heart would dare, On the quaking turf of the green morass He crouched in the rank and the tangled grass, Like a wild beast in his lair. A poor old slave, infirm and lame; Great scars deformed his face; On his forehead he bore the brand of shame, And the rags, that hit his mangled frame, Were the livery of disgrace. All things above were bright and fair, All things were glad and free; Lithe squirrels darted here and there, And wild birds filled the echoing air With songs of Liberty! 24Ibid., Jan. 13, 1344, p. 13. 78 On him alone was the doom of pain, From the morning of his brith; On him alone the curse of Cain Fell, like a flail on the garnereg grain, And struck him to the earth! 5 A popular feature for discussing antislavery issues was the lengthy written debate. The Wesleyans were articulate and consistent in their arguments, causing one pro-Methodist paper to admire the “consistency of the ‘Scottites.'"26 Many times the editors, particularly Lee, would travel to local churches or antislavery societies to debate a representative of the Methodist Church. Regular reports were filed by mail and printed in the True Wesleyan Prof. [Calvin] Kingsley closed on the negative, in a very pretty and somewhat artful speech; but it was greatly wanting in energy and power. He attempted to secure, by a soft and tender spirit, an extremely gentle manner, and a few tears-- very few and small--manufactured for the occasion, what they had failed from the commencement to secure by argument--a bitter spirit and personal abuse. It appeared that the effort was more to redeem their own characters as Christians, than to redeem the Church from the predicament in which our arguments had involved it. Mr. K. declared that discussions of this kind were very unpleasant to him, that every feeling of his heart was opposed to them. This came with rather an ill grace, after having twice engaged in them, and the second time on his own undeniable challenge. It may yet be true, ' for the discussions may have changed his feelings on the sub- ject of slavery. This I believe to be the true state of the case. They did not find it so easy to defend the Church a; they expected, and the work proved to be very unpleasant. 251mm, Feb. 4, l843, p. 20. 61bid., March 30, 1844, p. 50. 2 27Ibid., March 1, l844, p. 43. 79 These skirmishes had to be of great interest to the Irge_ Wesleyan readers--especially since the antislavery writer invariably came out the winner before the largely antislavery crowd. Lee went on to note that Kingsley begged a good Wesleyan not to take a vote from the people to see the winner. While the news and feature columns of the True Wesleyan were heavily opinionated, the editors of the paper reserved a par- ticular column in each issue to present an official editorial. The resounding theme was a reiteration of the arguments presented in the general conferences of the Methodist Episcopal Church of 1836 and l84O and in the True Wesleyan at the time of secession. Antislavery issues and thoughts were much broader, however, than the Methodist controversy and the True Wesleyan editors gave these ideas attention also. The annexation of Texas, for example, was opposed because it was "being supported by the South to perpetuateeslavery."28 The issue of civil disobedience was openly discussed with Lee writing that "there is no middle ground. When the claims of civil govern- ment conflict with the government of God, we must be absolutely bound to obey one or the other." The editor applied the discussion to choosing what course to take when the "law" comes to a person's home where a fugitive slave is being harbored. That person must flee, or submit to the penalty, said Lee. The "choice" also indi- cates the endorsement of nonviolent resistence by the True Wesleyan, 29 whose editors opposed physical rebellion or Civil War. 28Ibid., March 16, 1844, p. 43. 291bid., Jan. 25, 1845, p. 15. ,80 The best example of the full commitment of the True Wesleyan and its editors to abolitionism emerged in an editorial Scott pub- lished on August 3, lB44--a discourse that brought scores of responses from both pro- and antislavery corners and which made Scott somewhat the William Lloyd Garrison of the Methodist abolitionists. Scott's editorial, entitled "Division of the Methodist Episcopal Church: Its Effect on the Union of the States," set forth the virtues of dividing the union as a means for resolving the conflict over slavery. That the Methodist Episcopal Church will be divided within twelve months, there is no room for doubt. This to our mind is as certain as anything future. Indeed, we have had little doubt for more than a year, that such would be the result of the deliberations of the General Conference. Well, there is no enlightened Christian or philanthropist but will rejoice in such an event. Large ecclesiastical organizations are dangerous-- especially when they give their influence to the worst forms of oppression. A division of the Methodist Episcopal Church will hasten the abolition of slavery in our country; it cannot be otherwise. Withdraw all Northern support from the abominable system of manstealing, and the traffic in human souls will soon wind up. The division of the Methodist Episcopal Church will have a tremendous influence on the Union of the States. It will not necessarily produce a disruption, but it will greatly weaken the cords of union. And we say this without the least alarm. We have long been of the opinion, that the glory of God and the happiness of man requires a severance of the "union," both in church and state. Start not, cause we are opposed to human governments or ecclesiastical organizations--for we are in favor of both--but because we believe division would be benefi- cial every way to the cause of suffering man. The question of liberty or slavery must, ere long, be the great political party questions--questions which will entirely throw into the shade all minor considerations. And when this shall be the case, the days of our "stripes and stars" will be numbered. Let it not be said, the South will not consent to a dessolution of the Union. They will; they are up to almost anything, however suicidal. Other churches will most likely follow the example of the Methodist Episcopal Church. They must do this. And the nation cannot long brave the moral sentiment of the cpuntry. And blessed be that day when the ungodly national compact shall be broken up! Slavery never would, never could havé“flourished 81 in this land in the nineteenth century, controlling church and state, but for the connivance and support of the North. Cut off Northern support, in every sense, and you take out its life blood. If the Union were divided, fifteen hundred miles of slave- holding territory would be thrown open to the free States, making five border States. This would afford great facilities for the escape of the slaves from their oppressors. The border States, therefore, would be forced to emancipate; this would make other border States, and so on. We do not believe slavery will ever be abolished in this country till it is done by the force of circumstances--not by physical force-~but the force of circumstances. And such a crisis must come, and come soon. It is too late in the day to talk about a war between the North and South. Such a way could not be maintained on the part of the South a single month; and those eyes which only see through cotton bags and human souls, must see this-~however reckless they may be in other matters. Beside, the anti-war spirit and feeling is diffusing itself throughout creation. It is, therefore, we repeat, too late in the day to talk of civil war in such a land as this.30 The responses, which Scott unreservedly printed in the newspaper, accused the True Wesleyan editor of "treason," of being "thunderstruck," of "laboring under temporary mental aberation." The unbelieving Olive Branch remarked, "The harmless madman Garrison may do it, to put down civil government, the Christian Church and her ministry, but surely the sagacious, deep-seeing editor of the Wesleyan can never use such materials while in his reason."31 Despite the barrage against Scott's disunion article, the editor refused to depart from the position that he had "summered and wintered" and which was being "entertained in different parts of the country . . . by many leading men in the different evangelical churches."32 He clarified the position over succeeding issues of the 30Ibid , Aug. 3, l844, p. 123. 3‘ Ibi d 321bid ., Aug. 24, 1844, p. 34. 82 True Wesleyan, making it apparent that he coveted the cause of the abolition of slavery over the union of the states. He, indeed, did sound like Garrison when, in a reference to the U. S. Constitution, he labeled the "national compact" as a "pro-slavery instrument." Scott said, "True there are some features in the Constitution of the country which contain sentiments in accordance with the largest "33 liberty; but the instrument, as a whole, is pro-slavery. A leading responsibility the True Wesleyan editors accepted was keeping a close eye on the transactions of other churches, par- ticularly viewing their general conference meetings, to assess their antislavery sentiments. The editors reported in one issue, for example, that the Methodist Protestant Church, a splinter Methodist group that had broken away in the early lBOO's from the Methodist Episcopal Church over the issue of lay representation, had adjourned from its general conference meeting and done "nothing against slavery in our opinion."34 The Wesleyan press even kept watch on what the churches were singing, attacking pro-slavery hymns. Pro-Slavery Hymn Master Supreme, I look to thee For grace and wisdom from above; Vested with if"' arthority Endue me with ifrv ”atient love; 33Ibid. 34Ibid., June 6, 1846, p. 91. 83 Inferiors, as a sacred trust, I from the sovereign Lord receive, That what is suitable and just, Impartial I to all may give; The servant faithfully discreet, Gentle to him, and good, and mild, Him, I would faithfully entreat, ful scarce distinguish from a child. Yet, let me not my place forsake, The occasion of his stumbling prove The servant to my bosom take, Or mar him by familiar love. 0, could I emulate the zeal Thou dost to thy poor servants bear! The troubles, griefs, and burdens feel, Of souls entrusted to my care! In daily prayer to God commend The souls whom Christ expired to save And think how soon my sway may end, And all be equal in the grave.‘35 The Wesleyan Methodist Connection did not escape the pen of the True Wesleyan editors, or its readers. One reader reported the establishment of a "Colored Wesleyan Church" in the same com- munity where a white Wesleyan Methodist church already existed. The reader cried that the two races were no more different than people who were "big-headed, black-eyed, short-nosed, straight backed, long- fingered, or big-footed. I hope, I beg, I pray that the Wesleyans may have nothing to do with any such abomination."36 Both Horton and Lee responded in the True Wesleyan that there was no evidence of any Wesleyans attempting to segregate blacks from whites, but that "our colored friends have natural rights as well as ourselves" 35Ibid., Jan. 2, l857, p. 2. 36Ibid., April 12, 1845, p. 57. 84 and would not be “coerce[d]" to worship with other brethren. Lee wrote that blacks had been "so long oppressed, insulted and crowded into a corner or out doors, that we must expect they will-feel a little distrust, and wish to stand a little way off for a time."37 37 bid., April 19, l845, p. 6. CHAPTER V CONCLUSION- During the first half of the nineteenth century, Americans were suddenly saturated with a large number of newspapers. Mechani- cal improvements in presses and papermaking machinery and lower postal rates were major factors in making the print medium economi- cally attractive. Many of these papers were religious and represented denominations with specific theological viewpoints. Another kind of newspaper was that which became the banner for reform movements such as temperance, labor, peace, and abolitionism. At the outset of this study, a perspective on the development of the religious press and abolitionist journalism in the 1800's was provided. The abolitionist press was said to have included those newspapers and periodicals of limited, general circulation; whose contents ranged from the rational to the emotional, usually relying on religious persuasion; whose editors were motivated by an abiding concern for abolition. Because of the changing view of an abolitionist, it was necessary to define this nineteenth century reformer. It was noted that while the revisionists of American history, focusing on Civil War causation, condemned abolitionists as fanatics whose agitation had“brought about a needless war, historians of the l960's--perhaps influenced by the civil rights movements of their own day-~found the frame of mind, the program, and tactics of the abolitionist to be more comprehensible. 85 86 The discussion of abolitionism noted the tendency to group a large number of nineteenth century figures under the label of abolitionists without careful analysis of who they were, what they did, what they believed, and to what degree they were willing to demonstrate their belief. In reality, abolition and antislavery are not interchange- able labels. More correctly, abolitionists were part of the radical element within the antislavery movement that was not just against slavery, but wanted it abolished either immediately or as soon as possible at no compensation to the slaveholder. A great distinction of abolitionists was the belief in the equal rights of blacks and the disbelief of the notion that blacks were inferior, from both a scientific and Biblical view, to whites. The definition of abolitionism presented in chapter II, specified strong qualifications by which to measure the paper under consideration, the True Wesleyan, and its founder and first editor and publisher, Orange Scott. And, while the initial research indi- cated antislavery sentiment in Scott's life and the True Wesleyan, this writer had doubts about the "abolitionist" label ever being accurately applied. Those doubts began to disappear with a study of Scott's background. As related in chapter III, Scott was a popular Methodist preacher who sacrificed positions of leadership within the Methodist Episcopal Church to embrace the unpopular cause of aboli- tionism. He studied the subject of abolition for more than a year before committing himself to being a "torch light" for the cause of human freedom. In the general conference of l836 of the Methodist Episcopal Church, he represented the abolitionist cause with fervor 87 and against overwhelming opposition. His action cast him into the role of leader of the antislavery faction of the Methodist Episcopal Church. His activities were hardly limited to the church as he became one of the famous "Seventy" agents of the American Anti- Slavery Society and was a leader of the Massachusetts Anti-Slavery Society. His efforts in raising financial support earned him the recognition of American Anti-Slavery Society leader Henry B. Stanton. And his oratory brought the plaudits of the popular antislavery poet John Greenleaf Whittier. When Scott decided to secede from the Methodist Episcopal Church--along with Luther Lee, Jotham Horton, LaRoy Sunderland, and Lucius Matlack--he launched the True Wesleyan as a weekly newspaper. It was a highly professional paper, continually improving its physi- cal appearance and providing guidance to elevate its correspondents to a standard of writing competitive with other papers of the day. It had the usual difficulties of delinquent payments from subscribers, but managed to pull through periodic financial crises. The paper never swept over the masses, although it showed modest gains in circulation, reaching 3,lOO by the time Scott handed the position of editor to Lee at the end of l844. Generally, however, opinion papers have been read by a select audience--in this case, the Methodist Episcopal hierarchy and antislavery sympathizers primarily in New England. Although the True Wesleyan appeared to be just another addition to the large number of religious newspapers of the day, it was not. The editors during the period under examination in this 88 study, l843-1847, reflected their abiding concern for abolitionism in the columns, as did their readers and correspondents. Printed material covered a broad range from mundane antislavery society announcements to in-depth discussions of antislavery issues to aboli- tionist poetry by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Editorially, the Iyge_ Wesleyan editors reviewed the nation, other churches, and themselves with precision. The editorial thought reached what was considered fanatical ends by some antislavery readers when Scott proposed disunion of the states as an alternative to civil war in resolving the conflict over slavery. At the same time, Scott labeled the U.S. Constitution a "pro-slavery compact," opening himself to heavy criticism. These events, if nothing else, pointed out the whole- hearted commitment of Scott and the True Wesleyan to pure abolitionism. Competitive newspapers also attested to the focus of the True Wesleyan. The Western Recorder typified those remarks. "Anyone who may have a desire to be acquainted with the merits of the slave question cannot, in our opinion, do better than to take the Wesleyan."1 Scott's uncompromising position on abolitionism put him in conflict with many persons--a position he did not covet. But his destiny and cause were clear to him. We are not born to float on the popular current. We have always been in the habit of expressing our opinions freely on all sub— jects, without stopping to inquire whether they would be popular or unpoBular; and it is too late in the day now to change our course. 1True Wesleyan, Jan. 20, 1844, p. ll. 2Ibid., Aug. 24, 1844, n.p. 89 At various times in Scott's life, and upon his death, his opponents would refer to his "kind feelings and gentlemanly disposi- tion."3 Dr. Thomas Bond, a Methodist editor who attacked Scott deridingly, commented: I had been afflicted at the necessity which I had believed was laid upon me, to advert to you as a partizan, while I enter- tained great regard for you as a man: and it was, therefore, a matter of rejoicing, that in discharging what I considered my duty to the church, I had not lost a friend, for whom my- self and family entertained a high esteem. There was no tomorrow in Scott's work for abolitionism and the Wesleyan Methodist secessionists. He died a weary man at the age of forty-seven, realizing he had thrown himself "and all that I had upon her [the church] altar; not then thinking I should so soon be consumed; but so it is."5 Scott, however, was not dismayed with a life spent for the cause of abolitionism: "My confidence, brethren, in the truthfulness of our principles . . . remains undi- minished.“6 And so did the confidence of the succeeding editors of the True Wesleyan who sustained the principles of abolitionism long after Scott's departure. 31bid., Jan. 20, 1844, p. 11. 4Dr. Thomas Bond, Letter to Orange Scott, quoted in True Wesleyan, March 25, 1857, p. 59. 50ragge Scott, Memoir of Rev. Orange Scott: Compiled from His Correspondence, and’Other Authentic Sources (Part I), compiled? by‘Lucius C. Matlack (Newaork: *Wesleyan Beak Room, 1848), p. 43. 61bid. BIBLIOGRAPHY BIBLIOGRAPHY Barnes, Gilbert Hobbs. The Antislavery_Impulse, 1830-1844. New York: Harcourt, Brace and World: 1964. Browne, Benjamin P. 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