The point, however, has not resolved itself
into that peculiar position where it must be either a matter of
compromise, or a question for the court and jury to decide.
If Marston, now sensible of his position as father of the children,
will yield them a sacrifice to the man trader, it is in his power;
the creditors will make it their profit. Who, then, can solve the
perplexity for him? The custom of society, pointing the finger of
shame, denies him the right to acknowledge them his children.
Society has established the licentious wrong,--the law protects it,
custom enforces it. He can only proceed by declaring the mother to
be a free woman, and leaving the producing proof to convict her of
being slave property to the plaintiff. In doing this, his judgment
wars with his softer feelings. Custom--though it has nothing to give
him-is goading him with its advice; it tells him to abandon the
unfashionable, unpolite scheme. Natural laws have given birth to
natural feelings--natural affections are stronger than bad laws. They
burn with our nature,--they warm the gentle, inspire the noble, and
awake the daring that lies unmoved until it be called into action
for the rescue of those for whom our affections have taken life.
Things had arrived at that particular point where law-lovers-we mean
lawyers-look on with happy consciences and pleasing expectations;
that is, they had arrived at that certain hinge of slave law the
turn of which sends men, women, and children, into the vortex of
slavery, where their hopes are for ever crushed.
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