“We have learned with profound regret and unutterable emotion of the resolution adopted May 18th, which has inflicted, we fear, an irreparable injury upon eighty thousand souls for whom Christ died; souls which, by this act of your venerable body, have been stripped of the dignity of Christians, degraded in the scale of humanity, and treated as criminals, for no other reason than the color of their skin. The adoption of this soul-sickening resolution has destroyed the peace and alienated the affections of twenty-five hundred members of the Church in this city, who now feel that they are but spiritual orphans or scattered sheep. The deed you have done could not have originated in that love which works no ill to his neighbor, but in a disposition to propitiate that spirit which is not to be appeased, except through concessions derogatory to the dignity of our holy religion! And, therefore, they protest against it, and conjure you to wipe from the journal the odious resolution.”
This was strong language, prompted by a stronger feeling.
The members of Sharp Street Church did not protest against the decision of the Church in this case, because they doubted the expressed fidelity made prior to this, that was self-evident. But they knew that times change and men change with them. This to them looked like a compromise with the spirit of slavery that stalked abroad in the land. That decision, viewed from this distance to-day, to some, assumes a different aspect altogether. How could they keep from protesting? What could they do more, how dare do less? How did they curb their feelings enough to express their thoughts in such mild language? Why should not those burden-bound colored men and women protest against, while compelled to submit to, a decision that to them was humiliating in the extreme? Shall the crawling, loathsome worm of the dust be allowed to squirm when trod upon, the venomous snake to hiss, the vicious beast to defend himself, and then deny the right to protest? Could the Church of God deny them the privilege of exculpating themselves in the eyes of the public from what to them appeared an undeserved reproach, thrown upon them because of their color or helpless condition, casting thereby away from them the protection of all save that of God? As they probably thought, why thus insult them? Aye; rather why insult justice and God by demanding of them a reason for protesting, since it appeared to them that the Methodist Episcopal Church—the Church, and only Church, that from the beginning had stood manfully in their defense—by that decision “had failed to manifest the spirit that worketh no ill to its neighbor?” Whatever the protestants in this instance may have thought or said, viewed at that time from the _ignis fatuus_ of the then existing African Churches in the North, “it was calculated to drive out of the Methodist Episcopal Church every intelligent and manly colored man,” into one or the other of these Churches. Viewed, however, under the light of the Address of our bishops at that time, it assumes a more rational and philosophical aspect. The bishops said: “We can not withhold from you at this eventful period the solemn conviction of our minds, that no ecclesiastical legislation on the subject of slavery at this time will have a tendency to accomplish these most desirable objects, to wit: Preserve the peace and unity of the whole body, promote the greatest happiness of the slave population, and advance generally in the slaveholding community of our country the humane and hallowing influence of our holy religion.” By this we judge that at that time the Church had come to the conclusion that it was impossible by “ecclesiastical legislation” to benefit in any way the colored man; that extra legislation on the question would be not only supererogatory, but in all probability only beneficial in goading the slaveholder. We infer (1) that civil legislation touching slavery was not objected to; but that (2) the objection to the admission of colored testimony had been raised by the civil courts, and it was not considered being “subject to the powers that be” to demur; at least, that it was the duty of the Church “to live in peace with all men” as much as possible. We are not ignorant of the fact that there have been, and will yet be, times when forbearance ceases to be a virtue, and when the Church of God can not afford to be loyal “to the powers that be.” But what could be accomplished by the opposition of _one Church_ to the slave oligarchy that was then rife in this country? As to this we can only say: