Life and religion of the Hindoos. : $b With a sketch of my life and experience.Gangooly, Joguth Chunder
Religion
Life and religion of the Hindoos. : $b With a sketch of my life and experience.
Gangooly, Joguth Chunder
Hindus; India -- Social life and customs
They are the Americans,--the descendants of those who had come over
from England. Finally, I concluded that these slaveholders have no
_women_ among them, as the tender, kind-hearted women would have
put the abominable trade to destruction. To my utter surprise, I was
told by my friends that the slaveholders have their families, churches,
pastors, etc.! God only knows with what a sad shock my heart sank down.
I could not but think that in no portion of the globe had the blessed
religion of Christ been made into a machine to work for the selfish
man, to satisfy his cupidity, as it had been in the United States
of America. These men support, by Christianity, that very system of
bondage which Christianity came to destroy. The parable of the master
releasing his servant from his debt, and of that servant tormenting
his fellow-servant for a small sum he had owed him, came into my mind,
and I realized the truth uttered by those wise lips of Jesus twenty
centuries ago. Mr. Dall told me that there are free States in the
Union. This puzzled me again. Union of _free_ and _slave_
States! It must be a queer Union! No! it cannot be so. St. Paul could
not very well understand the communion of things of contrary nature:
“And what communion hath light with darkness?” etc. (2 Cor. vi. 14–16).
The union of fire and water, light and darkness, freedom and slavery
is impossible. So I concluded that there are good antislavery men and
women in America, as it cannot be that human nature there is totally
depraved; but these States must be pro-slavery, since
“He who friendship with knave hath made,
Is judged a partner in the trade.”
Reading in a small book something like--
“The British flag floats over land and sea,
And beneath it the slave is _free_,”
my joy knew no bounds. Hardly could I read the lines; the tears dimmed
my eyes, and I cried, “Father of the poor, bless the flag of England!
Wave, wave thou mighty flag with the cross on thy bosom, and draw the
low, despised children of God to come under thy protection. Thy charms
melt the iron that binds the feet of slaves! Wave majestically and on
high, that the bond may see thee through the wide country stretching
from Maine to Florida, and from Massachusetts to California!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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