He talks of persecution, and puts on the mockery of woe: theirs has been persecution indeed. Robbed, dragged from their homes, or obliged to hide from the sight of man, in continual expectation of the assassin’s stab; some transported like common felons, for ever; and a much greater number butchered by those to whose happiness their lives had been devoted, and in that country that they loved too well to disgrace by their apostacy! How gladly would one of these unfortunate conscientious men have escaped to America, leaving fortune, friends, and all behind him! and how different has been the fate of Dr. Priestley! Ah, gentlemen! do not let us be deceived by false pretenders; the manner of his emigration is of itself a sufficient proof that the step was not necessary to the enjoyment of “protection from violence.”
You say he has “long disinterestedly laboured for his country.” ’Tis true he says so, but we must not believe him more disinterested than other reformers. If toleration had been all he wanted; if he had contented himself with the permission of spreading his doctrines, he would have found this in England, or in almost any other country, as well as here. The man that wants only to avoid persecution, does not make a noisy and fastidious display of his principles, or attack with unbridled indecency the religion of the country in which he lives. He who avoids persecution, is seldom persecuted.
“The lifted axe, the agonizing wheel,
Luke’s iron crown and Damien’s bed of steel,
To men remote from pow’r but rarely known,
Leave reason, faith, and conscience all our own.”
But the Doctor did not want to be remote from power or profit either; for in his sermon on the test laws, he proposes “to set apart one church for the Dissenters in every considerable town, and a certain allotment of tithes for their minister, proportioned to the number of Dissenters in the district.” A very modest and disinterested request truly! Was this man seeking peace and toleration only? He thinks these facts are unknown in America. After all his clamour against tithes, and his rejoicing on account of their abolition in France, he had no objection to their continuing in England, provided he came in for a share. Astonishing disinterestedness!
In this country there is nothing to fear from the Doctor’s disinterestedness, because there being no public revenue annexed to any worship whatever, there is nothing to wrangle for; but from the disseminating of his deistical doctrine, there is much to fear. A celebrated deist in England says, that there can be no such thing as an atheist; that it is impossible: for, says he, “every one must necessarily believe that some cause or other produced the universe; he may call that cause what he pleases; God, nature, or even chance; still he believes in the efficacy of that cause, and therefore is no atheist.” And, indeed, we shall find that deism is but another name for atheism, whether we consider it in theory or in practice. That we should not be bettered by the introduction of deism or atheism, I think is a clear case. “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” While this fear existed in France, there was some kind of manners, some kind of justice left; but ever since the deluded people have been taught that Jesus Christ was an infamous impostor, and the worship of him has been forbidden as “idolatrous,” the whole infernal legion seems to be let loose amongst them, and the nation appears marked out for a dreadful example to mankind: indeed some such example was necessary to cure the world of the infidel philosophy of Voltaire, Rousseau, Gibbon, Priestley, and the rest of that enlightened tribe.
We are continually exclaiming against prejudice, without attending to its effect on ourselves. I am afraid prejudice in favour of the French revolution has led Americans to approve many things which, a few years ago, they would have viewed with the utmost abhorrence, and that they would even now view with abhorrence in any other nation: and here I cannot help taking notice of an article that appeared, not many days ago, in one of our public papers. The writer is giving a list of eminent persons who have “arisen on the democratic floor,” which he concludes with Marat, St. Paul, and Jesus Christ. Is it not a most horrid blasphemy to put the Son of God, the Prince of Peace, on a footing with the bloody author of the massacres at Paris and Versailles? I hope and believe, that such blasphemers are rare in the United States; and the only way to keep them so is, for the people to reject unanimously every attempt to debase Christianity, in whatever shape, and under whatever disguise it may appear.
In the address of “the republican natives of Great Britain and Ireland, resident at New York,” we find a very extraordinary passage indeed:—“Participating in the many blessings which the Government is calculated to ensure, we are happy in giving it this proof of our respectful attachment. We are only grieved that a system of such beauty and excellence should be at all tarnished by the existence of slavery in any form! but, as friends to the equal rights of man, we must be permitted to say, that we wish these rights extended to every human being, be his complexion what it may: we, however, look forward with pleasing anticipation to a yet more perfect state of society; and from that love of liberty which forms so distinguished a trait in the American character, are taught to hope that this last, this worst disgrace to a free government, will finally and for ever be done away.” So! these gentlemen are hardly landed in the United States, before they begin to cavil against the Government, and to pant after a more perfect state of society! If they have already discovered that the system is tarnished by the very last and worst disgrace of a free government, what may we not reasonably expect from their future researches? If they, with their virtuous President, had been landed in the southern States, they might have lent a hand to finish the great work so happily begun by Citizens Santhonax and Polverel: they have caught the itch of addressing, petitioning, and remonstrating in their own country; let them scratch themselves into a cure; but let them not attempt spreading their disorder: they ought to remember, that they are come here “to seek freedom and protection” for themselves, and not for others. When the people of these States are ready for a total abolition of negro slavery, they will make a shift to see the propriety of adopting the measure without the assistance of these northern lights. In the mean time, as the Convention cannot here enter on the legislative functions, they may amuse themselves with a fable written for their particular use:—
THE POT-SHOP, A FABLE.
In a pot-shop, well stocked with ware of all sorts, a discontented ill-formed pitcher unluckily bore the sway. One day, after the mortifying neglect of several customers, “Gentlemen,” said he, addressing himself to his brown brethren in general, “Gentlemen, with your permission, we are a set of tame fools, without ambition, without courage; condemned to the vilest uses, we suffer all without murmuring; let us dare to declare ourselves, and we shall soon see the difference. That superb ewer, which, like us, is but earth; those gilded jars, vases, china, and, in short, all those elegant nonsenses, whose colours and beauty have neither weight nor solidity, must yield to our strength, and give place to our superior merit.”
This civic harangue was received with peals of applause, and the pitcher (chosen president) became the organ of the assembly. Some, however, more moderate than the rest, attempted to calm the minds of the multitude; but all those which are called jordens, or chamber-pots, were become intractable; eager to vie with the bowls and cups, they were impatient, almost to madness, to quit their obscure abodes, to shine upon the table, kiss the lip, and ornament the cupboard.
In vain did a wise water-jug (some say it was a platter) make them a long and serious discourse upon the peacefulness of their vocation: “Those,” says he, “who are destined to great employments are rarely the most happy. We are all of the same clay, ’tis true; but he who made us, formed us for different functions; one is for ornament, another for use. The posts the least important are often the most necessary. Our employments are extremely different, and so are our talents.”
This had a wonderful effect; the most stupid began to open their ears: perhaps it would have succeeded, if a grease-pot had not cried out with a decisive tone, “You reason like an ass; to the devil with you and your silly lessons.”
Now
