the policy which had been adopted and pursued, and was still pursued by certain individuals in the United States, whether many or few, whether a handful or a multitude, who were known by the name of the abolitionists of the United States of America. He stood there to justify himself and them in the act of fearlessly, constantly, unceasingly, and universally, to every class and color on the face of the habitable globe, enunciating the great principles of equal justice and equal rights—of enunciating this great truth that slaveholding is a crime in the sight of God, and should be immediately and totally abolished. That God had in no instance given to man a discretionary power to hold property in his fellow-man; that instant emancipation was the right of the slave; that instant manumission was the duty of the master. That no government had a right to keep a single soul in slavery; that no nation had authority to permit slavery, let that nation exist where it may; if professing to be a Christian nation, so much the more atrocious was their wickedness. The nation which permitted the keeping in slavery of God's creatures, which allowed the traffic in human beings for 400 pieces of silver, even in the capital itself, was not entitled to be called a christian nation, and if professing to be a christian nation, so much the more pre-eminently wicked and infamous was the nation. By that act that infamous, wicked nation violated every christian feeling, and was worthy of being exposed to the scorn and derision of every nation under heaven, christian or pagan. This was a most momentous question, and he spoke strongly upon it, but he spoke advisedly. He did not speak angrily, but he did and must speak warmly on the subject of Slavery. He could not talk of millions of men and women, each of whom was endowed with a soul which was precious in the sight of God—each of whom was endowed with that principle which out-valued worlds—he could not speak of such, registered with the brutes, with calm unconcern, or classed with chattels, and be calm—if he could do so, he should be ready with these nails to open his breast, and tear therefrom a heart which would be unworthy of a man. He could and would speak calmly on other topics, but this was a subject which required energy, unceasing energy, till the evil was removed from the face of the earth, till all the kingdoms of the world had become the kingdoms of our God, and of his Christ. He was thankful for the present opportunity which had been afforded him of entering into this discussion; he was thankful that his opponent, for so it seemed he must be called, was an American, that he was a christian minister, that he was an opponent of slavery, that he brought to the question before them, talent, learning, patriotism, and christian feeling. Such an opponent he respected and wished the audience to respect. He would ask them to cherish his person, to respect his opinions, to weigh his arguments, to test his facts, and if they were just and righteous, to adopt his principles. If he (Mr. T.) knew the strongest expression he had ever used regarding America, he would use it to-night; if he knew in what recess of his heart his worst wish towards America was deposited he would drag it forth to the light, that his opponent might grapple with it in their presence. He would not soften down any of his language; he would not sugar over his words, he would not abate one iota of what he had ever said in reference to the wickedness of America on former occasions. Let his opponent weigh every syllable he (Mr. T.) had uttered, every statement he had ever made, every charge he had ever brought against his country or against his cloth, and if he found that he had exaggerated facts or stated what was not true, he would be glad to be shown it. He was there before them and his opponent to search after the truth, truth which would outlive Mr. Breckinridge—truth which would outlive Geo. Thompson—truth which was far more valuable than the proudest victory—truth which was invaluable to both—and let the truth stand out during the discussion which might follow; and when they had found out the truth, if they saw anything which had to be taken back—anything to be given up—anything for which to be sorry, he would try to outstrip his opponent in his readiness to retract what was wrong, to yield what was untenable, and to express his sorrow before God and the audience for what he had undeservedly said of America. With regard to the feelings he entertained towards the Americans, he need only refer to the last letter he had published to the American people, from which he would read a passage to show the feelings he entertained towards that country, as well as to those of her citizens who might reach these shores from America. Mr. Thompson then read the following passages:—
I love America, because her sons, though my persecutors, are immortal—because 'they know not what they do,' or if enlightened and wilful, are so much the more to be pitied and cared for. I love America, because of the many affectionate friends I have found upon her shores, by whom I have been cherished, refreshed and strengthened; and upon whose regard I place an incalculable value. I love America, for there dwells the fettered slave—fettered and darkened, and degraded now, but soon to spring into light and liberty, and rank on earth, as he is ranked in heaven, 'but a little lower than the angels.' I love America, because of the many mighty and magnificent enterprises in which she has embarked for the salvation of the world. I love her rising spires, her peaceful villages, and her multiplied means of moral, literary, and religious improvement. I love her hardy sons, the tenants of her vallies and her mountains green. I love her native children of the forest, still roaming, untutored and untamed, in the unsubdued wildernesses of the 'far west.' I love your country, because it is the theatre of the sublimest contest now waging with darkness and despotism, and misery on the face of the globe; and because your country is ordained to be the scene of a triumph, as holy in its character and as glorious in its results, as any ever achieved through the instrumentality of men.
But though my soul yearns over America, and I desire nothing more eagerly than to see her stand forth among the nations of the world, unsullied in reputation, and omnipotent in energy, yet shall I, if spared, deem it my duty to publish aloud her wide and fearful departures from rectitude and mercy. I shall unceasingly proclaim the wrongs of her enslaved children; and, while she continues to 'traffic in the souls of men,' brand her as recreant to the great principles of her revolutionary struggle, and hypocritical in all her professions of attachment to the cause of human rights.
I thank God, I cherish no feelings of bitterness or revenge, towards any individual in America, my most inveterate enemy not excepted. Should the sea on which I am about to embark receive me ere I gain my native shore—should this be the last letter I ever address to the people of America, Heaven bears me witness, I with truth and sincerity affirm that, as I look to be freely forgiven, so freely do I forgive my persecutors and slanderers and pray—'Lord lay not this sin to their charge.'
In another part of the same letter he had thus expressed himself:—
Should a kind providence place me again upon the soil of my birth, and when there, should any American (and I hope many will) visit that soil to plead the cause of virtue and philanthropy, and strive in love to provoke us to good works, let him know that there will be one man who will uphold his right to liberty of speech, one man who will publicly and privately assert and maintain the divinity of his commission to attack sin and alleviate suffering, in every form, in every latitude, and under whatever sanction and authorities it may be cloaked and guarded. And coming on such an errand, I think I may pledge myself in behalf of my country, that he shall not be driven with a wife and little ones, from the door of a hotel in less than 36 hours after he first breathes our air—that he shall not be denounced as an incendiary, a fanatic, an emissary, an enemy, and a traitor—that he shall not be assailed with oaths and missiles, while proclaiming from the pulpit in the house of God, on the evening of a Christian Sabbath, the doctrines of 'judgment, justice, and mercy,'—that he shall not be threatened, wherever he goes, with 'tar and feathers'—that he shall not be repudiated and abused in newspapers denominated religious, and by men calling themselves Christian Ministers—that he shall not have a price set upon his head, and his house surrounded with ruffians, hired to effect his abduction—that his wife and children shall not be forced to flee from the hearth of a friend, lest they should be 'smoked out' by men in civic authority, and their paid myrmidons—that the mother and her little ones shall not find at midnight, the house surrounded by an infuriated multitude, calling with horrible execrations for the husband and the father—that his lady shall not be doomed, while in a strange land, to see her babes clinging to her with affright, exclaiming, 'the mob shan't get papa,' 'papa is good is he not? the naughty mob shan't get him, shall they?'—that he shall not, finally, be forced to quit the most enlightened and christian city of our nation, to escape the assassin's knife, and return to tell his country, that in Britain the friend of virtue, humanity, and freedom, was put beyond the protection of the laws, and the pale of civilized sympathy,
