surprised at it, there was patriotism in this weakness; many citizens,
inimical to slavery, forbore to combat its progress, in order to avoid
what appeared to them a greater evil. Declivities like these are
descended quickly, and the deplorable presidency of Mr. Buchanan stands
to testify to this. The policy of the United States had become doubtful;
their good renown was dwindling away even with their warmest friends;
their cause was becoming blended more and more with that of servitude;
their liberties were compromised, and the Federal institutions were
bending before the "institution" of the South; no more rights of the
majority before the "institution;" no more sovereignty of the States
before the "institution." The ultra policy of Mr. Buchanan had coveted
Cuba, essayed violence in Kansas, given up the government of America in
fine to a cabinet of such a stamp, that a majority was nearly found in
it, ready to disavow Major Anderson, and to order the evacuation of
forts of the Confederation, menaced by Carolinian forces.

During this time, an incredible fact had come to light. It was one of
the glories of America to have abolished the African slave trade before
any other nation, and even to have put it on the same footing with the
crime of piracy. The South had openly demanded the re-establishment of a
commerce which alone could furnish it at some day with the number of
negroes proportioned to its vast designs. What had Mr. Buchanan done? He
doubtless had not consented officially to an enormity which Congress, on
its part, would not have tolerated; but repression had become so lax
under his administration, that the number of slave ships fitted out in
the ports of the United States had at length become very considerable.
The port of New York alone, which participates but too much in the
misdeeds and tendencies of the South, fitted out eighty-five slavers
between the months of February, 1859, and July, 1860. These slavers
proudly bore the United States' flag over the seas, and defied the