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358 pages, Kindle Edition
First published November 7, 2006
The only subject upon which there was always a decided, though silent, antagonism between the Wilkins family and myself was politics. I was an ardent FreeSoiler in days when to be an abolitionist was somewhat akin to being a republican in Britain. The Wilkinses were strong Democrats with leanings toward the South, being closely connected with leading Southern families.
On one occasion at Homewood, on entering the drawingroom, I found the family excitedly onversing about a terrible incident that had recently occurred.
''What do you think!" said Mrs. Wilkins to me; ''Dallas" (her grandson) "writes me that he has been compelled by the commandant of West Point to sit next a negro! Did you ever hear the like of that? Is it not disgraceful? Negroes admitted to West Point!"
"Oh!" I said, "Mrs. Wilkins, there is something even worse than that. I understand that some of them have been admitted to heaven!"
There was a silence that could be felt. Then dear Mrs. Wilkins said gravely:
"That is a different matter, Mr. Carnegie."
In the days of slavery and the underground railroads, there lived on the banks of the Ohio River near Gallipolis, a noted Democrat named Judge French, who said to some anti-slavery friends that he should like them to bring to his office the first runaway negro that crossed the river, bound northward by the underground. He could n't understand why they wished to run away. This was done, and the following conversation took place:
Judge: " So you have run away from Kentucky. Bad master, I suppose?"
Slave: "Oh, no. Judge; very good, kind massa."
Judge: "He worked you too hard?"
Slave: "No, sah, never overworked myself all my life."
Judge, hesitatingly: "He did not give you enough to eat?"
Slave: "Not enough to eat down in Kaintuck? Oh, Lor', plenty to eat."
Judge: "He did not clothe you well?"
Slave: "Good enough clothes for me, Judge."
Judge: "You had n't a comfortable home?"
Slave: " Oh, Lor', makes me cry to think of my pretty little cabin down dar in old Kaintuck."
Judge, after a 'pause: "You had a good, kind master, you were not overworked, plenty to eat, good clothes, fine home. I don't see why the devil you wished to run away."
Slave: "Well, Judge, I lef de situation down dar open. You kin go rite down and git it."
The Judge had seen a great light.
''Freedom has a thousand charms to show,
That slaves, however contented, never know.''
That the colored people in such numbers risked all for liberty is the best possible proof that they will steadily approach and finally reach the full stature of citizenship in the Republic.
Mr. Spencer said: "I feel just so myself, but I will tell you how I curb my indignation. Whenever I feel it rising I am calmed by this story of Emerson's: He had been hooted and hustled from the platform in Faneuil Hall for daring to speak against slavery. He describes himself walking home in violent anger, until opening his garden gate and looking up through the branches of the tall elms that grew between the gate and his modest home, he saw the stars shining through. They said to him: 'What, so hot, my little sir?'" I laughed and he laughed, and I thanked him for that story. Not seldom I have to repeat to myself, "What, so hot, my little sir? and it suffices."