So far so good. Whatever imperfections may have attended it, it was a noble act—one of which we may well be proud; on the part of the many, it was done in sincerity and truth. The enlightened people of England considered it almost as a boon to themselves. There was joy and rejoicing at home as well as in the green islands of the west. When the morning dawned on which the slave, the black, stepped forth unchained and free, praise and thanksgivings burst from the lips of others than the long-oppressed descendants of Ham. It was the triumph of humanity; and man, wherever he lived, and whatever his lot, could well be glad. Years have passed, and the people of England have not as yet reaped the benefit to which they were fairly entitled by the sacrifices they made. There is a monopoly in favour of West India produce, which deprives the working man of this country of an essential article of food. Slavery still remains, and, till that monopoly is abolished, will remain. Our abolition of it was regarded as an experiment by slave-holding states—an experiment which they now consider to have entirely failed. It is quite natural they should arrive at such a conclusion. What we have done has been but little. We have merely withdrawn from the slave-market our demand for slaves. It remains for us to show, that economically as well as morally we have made a change for the better; that the labour of free men is more productive than that of slaves. By keeping up our monopoly we practically declare the reverse. We supply the slave-holder with his strongest arguments against abolition; and, by giving him an advantage over us in the markets of the world, we afford a stimulus to slavery itself; and thus commit what we profess to abhor. Slave-owners are not remarkable for a high moral sense; could we show them that it was for their interest to emancipate their slaves, they would not be long ere they became our converts. As it is, we appeal to them in vain. To the voice of the charmer they are deaf. Even Lord Brougham’s silvery tones and gentle pleadings fail to move and win; nor does Joseph Sturge meet with a better fate. Slavery is a tremendous ill—an unmitigated curse; earth cannot produce its equal. Where it rears its hideous head, all that raises man above the beast, and makes life a thing to be desired, languishes and dies. Its state is dark as night—dreary as death—terrible as hell. For putting it down two plans have been proposed. It can be destroyed, it is said, by government interference, by treaties, by armed power. This has been tried; we shall now see with what effect. As soon as, in 1807, Parliament had passed a bill abolishing the British slave trade, by doing which we but did what was done in Denmark in 1792, the British ministers at all foreign courts were ordered to negotiate treaties for the abolition of the slave-trade. Mr. Laird tells us—{11}