Xxi.
Mr. President, I have occupied much time; but the great subject still stretches before us. One other point yet remains, which I should not leave untouched, and which justly belongs to the close. The Slave Act violates the Constitution and shocks the Public Conscience. [160] With modesty and yet with firmness let me add, sir, it offends against the Divine Law. No such enactment can be entitled to support. As the throne of God is above every earthly throne, so are his laws and statutes above all the laws and statutes of man. To question these, is to question God himself. But to assume that human laws are beyond question, is to claim for their fallible authors infallibility. To assume that they are always in conformity with the laws of God, is presumptuously and impiously to exalt man to an equality with God. Clearly human laws are not always in such conformity; nor can they ever be beyond question from each individual. Where the conflict is open, as if Congress should command the perpetration of murder, the office of conscience as final arbiter is undisputed. But in every conflict the same Queenly office is hers. By no earthly power can she be dethroned. Each person, after anxious examination, without haste, without passion, solemnly for himself must decide this great controversy. Any other rule attributes infallibility to human laws, places them beyond question, and degrades all men to an unthinking passive obedience.According to St. Augustine, an unjust law does not appear to be a law; lex esse non videtur quae justa non fuerit; and the great fathers of the Church, while adopting these words, declare openly that unjust laws are not binding. Sometimes they are called ‘abuses,’ and not laws; sometimes ‘violences,’ and not laws. And here again the conscience of each person is the final arbiter. But this lofty principle is not confined to the Church. A master of philosophy in early Europe, a name of intellectual renown, the eloquent Abelard, in Latin verses addressed to his son, has clearly expressed the universal injunction:
Jussa potestatis terrenae discutiendaThe mandates of an earthly power are to be discussed; those of Heaven must at once be performed; nor can any agreement constrain us against God. Such is the rule of morals. Such, also, by the lips of judges and sages, has been the proud declaration of the English law, whence our own is derived. In this conviction patriots have fearlessly braved unjust commands, and martyrs have died.
Coelestis tibi mox perficienda scias.
Siquis divinis jubeat contraria jussis
Te contra Dominum pactio nulla trahat.And now, sir, the rule is commended to us. The good citizen, as he thinks of the shivering fugitive,—guilty of no crime,—pursued,—hunted [161] down like a beast, while praying for Christian help and deliverance, and as he reads the requirements of this Act, is filled with horror. Here is a despotic mandate, ‘to aid and assist in the prompt and efficient execution of this law.’ Again let me speak frankly. Not rashly would I set myself against any provision of law. This grave responsibility I would not lightly assume. But here the path of duty is clear. By the Supreme Law, which commands me to do no injustice; by the comprehensive Christian Law of Brotherhood; by the Constitution, Which I have sworn to support; I am bound to Disobey this Act. Never, in any capacity, can I render voluntary aid in its execution. Pains and penalties I will endure; but this great wrong I will not do. ‘I cannot obey; but I can suffer,’ was the exclamation of the author of Pilgrim's Progress, when imprisoned for disobedience to an earthly statute. Better suffer injustice than do it. Better be the victim than the instrument of wrong. Better be even the poor slave, returned to bondage, than the unhappy Commissioner.
There is, sir, an incident of history, which suggests a parallel, and affords a lesson of fidelity. Under the triumphant exertions of that Apostolic Jesuit, St. Francis Xavier, large numbers of the Japanese, amounting to as many as two hundred thousand—among them princes, generals, and the flower of the nobility—ere converted to Christianity. Afterwards, amidst the frenzy of civil war, religious persecution arose, and the penalty of death was denounced against all who refused to trample upon the effigy of the Redeemer. This was the Pagan law of a Pagan land. But the delighted historian records that scarcely one from the multitude of converts was guilty of this apostasy. The law of man was set at naught. Imprisonment, torture, death, were preferred. Thus did this people refuse to trample on the painted image. Sir, multitudes among us will not be less steadfast in refusing to trample on the living image of their Redeemer.
