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AN AMERICAN CLERGYMAN, AUTHOR OF THE
"TELEGRAPH OF THE GOSPEL," " TELESCOPE OF THE GOSPEL,"
"LETTERS ON THE AMERICAN REPUBLIC."
•. “What I have written is no idle fictioned rhyme.
LONDON : HAMILTON, ADAMS, & Co.
The writer of this volume and his excellent and devoted partner have been borne down by an aval. anche of deadly hate let loose on them by negrohating professors of Christianity in our Northern States of America, and before being extricated from peril, another has come thundering down upon them, put in motion by men who make their gospel one of rifles, like Garibaldi, and the Rev. Henry Ward Beecher, contemplate with fiendish satisfaction the horrible carnage and blood associated with the late Federal war, and aspire to exalt and glorify with the crown of martyrdom the late arch-rebel and traitor Mr Gordon. Far down, therefore, aye, at the bottom of the abyss of calamity, utterly helpless, we lay in the midst of the wrecks of friendship and property, and hopeless, save from the cheering ray that comes over heaven's jasper walls, and leaps into the deep chasm around us, reminding us of our early motto, Nil desperandum, auspice Deo. “Hush, hush !” exclaim our enemies, who are not only numerous but formidable.—"Hush, hush: lest we send down another avalanche to bury and extinguish you for ever.”
We are quite aware that in our position it is not unusual to regard our confidence in God as a delusion and presumption, and, therefore, should not be surprised if some be so cowardly as to pray at us in their prayers, rather than to shew their Christianity by praying for us.
This is a strange world, and there are times when some Christian professors act more strangely than men of the world, or we should not find amongst our enemies those on whom we have been wont to rely, or towards whom we bave cherished the highest veneration and esteem.
The Rev. C. H. Spurgeon, in his “Sword and Trowel” has let drop concerning us an arabiguous expression in the shape of “wounded feelings," which does us great injustice, and whilst he speaks of our “letters ” as “a bold and skilful analysis of the whole case in America,” he draws an inference from them which demonstrates that the best of men are but men at the best, and consequently liable to err..
The editors of the British Quarterly have recently avowed that “we have an hatred to America and all Americans.” If this were the case, we should not have put all our eggs in the American basket, in the shape of property, or have made such vigorous though ill-requited efforts to lift Americans out of the deep rut of expediency where they have been so long bemired, or tried to bring them back to first principles—a mission often pronounced to be Quixotic even in our Northern States, despite the gorgeous pictures drawn of them hy men who have run wild with delusion, and one most assuredly that brought us more kicks and blows than halfpence, when by doing evil for a good purpose, we could have been both popular and wealthy.
What different results there would have been, if deep, calm, rational progress had been the order of the day in America ; but our Northern States and people, who were the chief instruments in sustaining the blood-cemented fabric of slavery when it suited their purpose, went from one extreme of guilt to another, in honour of their favourite system of protective tariffs and their beloved idol the Union, to promote which they subjected themselves to the scorn of men and demons, by making slavery a stalking horse to cover their ulterior objects, aims, and motives.
“ Who fired the first shot?” enquired a Professor at Oxford the other day. The reply given was “ Southerners.” “Were not they the aggressors ?” “ No, since our Northern people were the invaders.” “But did not the forts in the South belong to the United States Government?" "No." "How so?" Because the contract on which the Union was based had been broken by presidents, states, and churches in our entire history, as shown in the ob