with us, and sends an army to help; but rich America, in 1854, seeks to enslave Cuba and Hayti.
In 1771, while Great Britain was clutching at our liberty, Governor Hutchinson, a son of Boston, the avaricious creature of the throne—money and power the gods of his idolatry—made a Proclamation of Thanksgiving, and gave as reason for gratitude, that “civil and religious liberties are continued.” The Boston ministers came together, and considered and refused to read it—all but Mr. Pemberton, the governor's priest, and when he began it the patriots of the congregation turned their backs on the smug official, and left the polluted spot. All the rest refused to read the proclamation but, instead, agreed to “implore of Almighty God the restoration of lost liberties.” Where, then, was “lower-law divinity?” Then, Boston was poor; she had only sixteen thousand men, not four millions of money. In 1851, from his illegal dungeon in the chained Court House, Thomas Sims sent round his petition to the churches of Boston for prayer in his behalf; but of all the incumbents of the Boston pulpit, the fourscore successors of the Mayhews and the Coopers of old time, not six could read an unoffending black man's prayer, that he might be restored to his inalienable rights. When an exceptional man spoke of the higher law of God in his meetinghouse, indignant parishioners turned their backs on the minister—turned Christianity out of the house—fulfilling the Scripture, that the disciple shall suffer with his Lord. Now, Boston is rich, with a hundred and sixty thousand men in her bosom, and two hundred and twenty-five million dollars in her purse.
In 1765, Boston made a stamp officer resign his post, and swear under the Liberty Tree never to issue a single stamp. In 1850, when the Fugitive Slave Bill passed Congress, the citizens of Boston—wealthy Boston—fired a hundred guns, in token of rejoicing, on the great green of the city. Long since the Tories cut down Liberty Tree to build “Union Hall” on its ruins.
In 1769, the farmers and mechanics of Lexington would “drink no more tea” till the unlawful tax was taken off; and, in 1773, poor Boston, with the country to help her, threw into the ocean that taxed herb which was the vehicle wherein tyranny hoped to ride across the land. Your and
