other deliberately picking the pockets of a fellow sinner beside him.
Thus with John Bull, while telling his hollow and worthless beads of philanthropy with his left hand, with the right he is plundering the Rajahs of India of their possessions and adding them to his dominions, to inflict upon them the curse of English bondage, which John, from long habit, having called liberty, believes to be such.
But pause a moment, Sir John, in your transatlantic benevolence to us, and let us reason together, if there be such a faculty in your national cranium, and, in the words of the good old Book, which you have too little respected, let me say to you, first—pull out, if you can, some—if not all the beams, that for centuries, have lain quietly and easily in your own eyes, and some of those beams are very large, ugly and crooked. Do this, and then you will be the better able to see and judge of the mote of Slavery in your brother’s eye: a mote, too, let me remind you, that you, by your cupidity and avarice—your “Amor sceleratus habendi,” (your insatiate love of universal plunder,)—have cast into it.
Leander Ker,
Chaplain U. S. A.
Fort Leavenworth, June, 1853.
