The world, however, was doomed to suffer another disappointment in this instance, and the enemies of freedom to enjoy another triumph. The Americans left that highest place in human legislation, the adoption of the divine precept of doing as they would be done by, as the basis of their constitution, still unoccupied. We had the mortification of seeing the old selfishness which had disgraced every ancient republic, and had furnished such destructive arguments to the foes of mankind, again unblushingly displayed. The Americans proclaimed themselves not noble, not generous, not high-minded enough to give that freedom to others which they had declared, by word and by deed, of the same price as life to themselves. They once more mixed up the old crumbling composition of iron and clay, slavery and freedom, and moulded them into an image of civil polity, which must inevitably fall asunder. They published a new libel on man—in the very moment of his most heroic and magnanimous enthusiasm—shewing him as mean and sordid. While he raised his hand to protest to admiring and huzzaing millions, that there was no value in life without liberty, the manacles prepared for the negroes protruded themselves from his pocket, his impassioned action at once took the air of theatrical rant, and the multitudes who were about to admire, laughed out, or groaned, as they were more or less virtuous. The pompous phrases of "Divine liberty! Glorious liberty! Liberty the birthright of every man that breathes!" became the most bitter and humbling mockery, and gave way to the merry sneer of Matthews—"What! d' ye call it liberty when a man may not larrup his own nigger?"
