We wish you could have
heard the sound of that strange rhythmical chant which is now
forbidden to be sung on Southern plantations,--the psalm of this
modern exodus,--which combines the barbaric fire of the Marseillaise
with the religious fervor of the old Hebrew prophet:--
"Oh, go down, Moses,
Way down into Egypt's land!
Tell King Pharaoh
To let my people go!
Stand away dere,
Stand away dere,
And let my people go!"
As we were leaving, an aged woman came and lifted up her hands in
blessing. "Bressed be de Lord dat brought me to see dis first happy
day of my life! Bressed be de Lord!" In all England is there no Amen?
We have been shocked and saddened by the question asked in an
association of Congregational ministers in England, the very blood
relations of the liberty-loving Puritans,--"Why does not the North let
the South go?"
What! give up the point of emancipation for these four million slaves?
Turn our backs on them, and leave them to their fate? What! leave our
white brothers to run a career of oppression and robbery, that, as
sure as there is a God that ruleth in the armies of heaven, will bring
down a day of wrath and doom? Remember that wishing success to this
slavery-establishing effort is only wishing to the sons and daughters
of the South all the curses that God has written against oppression.
_Mark our words!_ If we succeed, the children of these very men
who are now fighting us will rise up to call us blessed.
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