on, and got it. Still, it was hampered by
limitations, notwithstanding it had present control of the cotton
growth. So the question of the slave trade was mooted. Thus it came to
pass that within half a century after it had expired by limitation of
the Constitution, that monstrous anomaly of the Christian era was sought
to be revived. And so corrupt had public sentiment become that the slave
trader captain of the yacht Wanderer could not be convicted by a jury of
his countrymen of violating the ordinance of the nation against this
traffic.[8] Will any one dare affirm that the tone of public feeling in
the South on this subject was not higher and purer in the time of
Jefferson than in the time of Buchanan? To what a depth of moral
degradation the nation might have sunk under the thus retrogressive
influences of ungodly Mammon, setting God and Christianity at total
defiance, may not easily be conjectured. But that law of action and
reaction which balances the powers of nature with such equal justice,
holds good also in the world of mind; and in the providence of God the
time of reaction came at last, and the temper of the nation reverted to
its pristine purity. That time came when defiant Mammon waxed so bold as
to threaten the nation's life. Under the protective statutes of
Congress, jealously watching over the local institutions of States,
slavery had grown to be a dominating power in the country; and, bound
by legislation and compromise, and the strict letter of the
Constitution, the people could only protest, and bide the inevitable
issue of such arrogant domination.

Now no longer is slavery dominant. Its own hand has struck down the
protecting shield of a quasi-constitutional guaranty, and all men feel
that its condemnation is just. Now there is 'none so poor to do it
reverence.' Why is this? It is the uniform course and consequence of
sin. 'Because sentence against an evil work is not executed speedily,
therefore the heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil.'
But God has spoken at last in a voice that we must heed. It is the voice
of war, a voice of woe; the voice of civil war, the chief of woes.
Slavery is now at our mercy. And mercy to it is to be measured by our
humanity to man and our fear of God. 'The word is nigh thee, even in thy
own mouth.' _Servitudo delenda est: deleta est_. Slavery is to be
destroyed: it is already destroyed. Shall we permit it a chance to be
revived? The way is opened to