The North Star (Rochester)/1847/12/03/The good time,—is it coming?
From the Woonsocket Patriot.
THE GOOD TIME,—IS IT COMING?
Well, that is a question, is'nt it, friend Editor? True, almost every body says the good time will come; but it strikes me they mope along in the world kicking at this and grumbling at that little obstacle, just as though they did'nt believe their own words,—as though they didn't feel in their hearts what their lips were saying, every once in a while, automaton like. Still, I have no doubt a majority of them entertain, in their ever hopeful souls, a kind of indefinable hope of a "good time,"—away off, somewhere, it may he; but to come, somehow or another, at some time or another. The question is, will it come?—Is it coming?
Says an editor whose sheet lies before me, it will. "Good," he says, "will overcome evil,—truth will overcome error,—right will triumph, finally, in a struggle with wrong." I don't know about that. The struggle has already been a long one,—the struggle between right and wrong,—and the right hasn't fairly triumphed yet. What may come to pass one of these days, I don't know; but in the other world, most of the ministers say, the devil is to have the biggest kingdom to all eternity, which he does not deserve; and people are to curse their Maker, which they ought not to do. Of course, right can't triumph there,—or else the ministers havn't got the hang of things,—or else I havn't got the right hang of the ministers. When, then, is the good time to make its advent?
There is oppression now, as there ever was. Power is getting gradually from the hands of the many into the hands of the few, and is only brought back to its rightful possessors through terrible and convulsive struggles, such as may not occur oftener than once a century, even with a people naturally and truly jealous of their rights. Murders and robberies, and other crimes,—crimes cold-blooded, and crime's passionate,—are constantly multiplying. Poverty is making mad its gaunt, starving victims; and despair shrieks and groans in many a cot and cabin. In God's name, where is the good time?
But don't let's fret ourselves. The good time is coming, and has come. I can see and you can see the evidence of it, every day, and in almost every passing event. We feel it in our bones. We inhale the inspiring truth in the very air we breathe. Even the storm clouds shadow it; and the sun shines it, in characters which all may read. Because oppression and wrong have not ceased, or have secured new victims, it does not follow that they are to grind us in the dust forever. There are more slaves to-day than there were yesterday, yet slavery is nearer to its grave, and will certainly die and he buried. More executions may take place this year, than have taken place in any two years before; yet the time is coming, and the flight of this year hastens it, when these shall be abolished forever. The leaven is working, and the whole lump is being leavened, slowly, but surely, and steadily.
There is more real freedom in the world to-day than there was yesterday. Truth is uttered more boldly, and men receive it more gladly. We are not afraid to listen. The great minds of the world are speaking their great thoughts on subjects of interest to us in this world. They are not puzzling their brains and our brains with nonsensical questions, as to whether there are three Gods or only one; or whether hades and shoel mean hell right out and out, or only an extensive under-ground rum-hole; or whether it is lawful to do good or only go to meeting, of a Sunday; or whether an Arminian or Calvinistic place of torment in the future world is the more tolerable. They talk of men's rights—of their right to govern themselves, and to speak their own thoughts—of their interests, as affected by the monopolizing of the land by the few, by prohibitary or revenue tariffs, by high postages, by high laws. When a nation is starving, they send bread to restore the famished, and not sermons to get them out of one church into another. And instead of stirring up feuds in a few congregations of honest worshippers, they stir the whole people—the nation's very heart—with love and gratitude.
They think and speak of corn-laws and criminal laws; of the policy of putting men into prison because they are poor, and choking them to death because they are bad—of the common schools, and how they may be improved; of steam-engines, and how they may be rendered safer and more valuable; of the soil, and how it may be cultivated; of the poor laborer, and how his condition may be made better. They speak, and their words are sent by lightning's force from city and from town to town, on little wires, to the printer's press; and then they issue again, and visiting the palace and the cabin, are read by the high and the low, the exalted and the humble, to leave their impress, and come forth yet once again in great and generous deeds.
In this way and by these means, the world is growing better, and the good time is coming. It will as truly come as that the earth turns on its axis; and even now such of us as hope and believe, may enjoy it- Dwelling on the dark side of every picture, and despairing of progress because everything does not go with lightning speed; fearing to stir out of our tracks lest we may be alarmed at the idea of being afraid, of getting frightened, and scowling, and grumbling, and fretting at every poling dolt who stands in our way—all this may not and will not hasten the time; but the time, the "good time" will come in spite of it, and the earth will shine with radiant beauty, and our hearts will bound with glee and gladsomeness. So may it be.
Thine truly,
C. WEBSTER.
Providence, Sept. 29, 1847.