mad, (here some one said, "All at the same time?") yes--all at the same
time. Bad in its theology, bad in its morality, bad in its temporary evil
influence here in the North, in England, and on the continent of Europe;
bad, because her isolated cruelties will be taken (whether so meant by her
or not) as the general condition of Southern life,--while her Shelbys, and
St. Clairs, and Evas, will be looked upon as angel-visitors, lingering for
a moment in that earthly hell. The _impression made by the book is a
falsehood_.

Sir, why do your Northern church-members and philanthropists buy Southern
products at all? You know you are purchasing cotton, rice, sugar,
sprinkled with blood, literally, you say, from the lash of the driver! Why
do you buy? What's the difference between my filching this blood-stained
cotton from the outraged negro, and your standing by, taking it from me?
What's the difference? You, yourselves, say, in your abstractions, there
is no difference; and yet you daily stain your hands in this horrid
traffic. You hate the traitor, but you love the treason. Your ladies,
too,--oh, how they shun the slave-owner _at a distance_, in _the
abstract_! But alas, when they see him in the _concrete_,--when they see
the slave-owner _himself_, standing before them,--not the brutal driver,
but the splendid gentleman, with his unmistakable grace of carriage and
ease of manners,--why, lo, behold the lady says, "Oh, fie on your
slavery!--what a _wretch_ you are! But, indeed, sir, I love your
sugar,--and truly, truly, sir, _wretch_ as you are, I love you too." Your
gentlemen talk just the same way when they behold our matchless women. And
well for us all it is, that your good taste, and hearts, can thus
appreciate our genius, and accomplishments, and fascinations, and
loveliness, and sugar, and cotton. Why, sir, I heard this morning, from
one pastor only, of two or three of his members thus intermarried in the
South. May I thus give the mildest rebuke to your inconsistency of