In 1801 the subject was introduced in the House of Representatives by an effort for another Act, which, on consideration, was rejected.  At a later day, in 1817-18, though still disregarded by the country, it seemed to excite a short-lived interest in Congress.  In the House of Representatives, on motion of Mr. Pindall, of Virginia, a committee was appointed to inquire into the expediency of “providing more effectually by law for reclaiming servants and slaves escaping from one State into an-other,” and a bill reported by them to amend the Act of 1793, after consideration for several days in Committee of the Whole, was passed.  In the Senate, after much attention and warm debate, it passed with amendments.  But on return to the House for adoption of the amendments, it was dropped.  This effort, which, in the discussions of this subject, has been thus far unnoticed, is chiefly remarkable as the earliest recorded evidence of the unwarrantable assertion, now so common, that this provision was originally of vital importance to the peace and harmony of the country.

At last, in 1850, we have another Act, passed by both Houses of Congress, and approved by the President, familiarly known as the Fugitive Slave Bill.  As I read this statute, I am filled with painful emotions.  The masterly subtlety with which it is drawn might challenge admiration, if exerted for a benevolent purpose; but in an age of sensibility and refinement, a machine of torture, however skilful and apt, cannot be regarded without horror.  Sir, in the name of the Constitution, which it violates, of my country, which it dishonors, of Humanity, which it degrades, of Christianity, which it offends, I arraign this enactment, and now hold it up to the judgment of the Senate and the world.  Again, I shrink from no responsibility.  I may seem to stand alone; but all the patriots and martyrs of history, all the Fathers of the Republic, are with me.  Sir, there is no attribute of God which does not take part against this Act.

But I am to regard it now chiefly as an infringement of the Constitution.  Here its outrages, flagrant as manifold, assume the deepest dye and broadest character only when we consider that by its language it is not restricted to any special race or class, to the African or to the person with African blood, but that any inhabitant of the United States, of whatever complexion or condition, may be its victim.  Without discrimination of color even, and in violation of every presumption of freedom, the Act surrenders all who may be claimed as “owing service or labor” to the same tyrannical proceeding.  If there be any whose sympathies are not moved for the slave, who do not cherish the rights of the humble African, struggling for divine Freedom, as warmly as the rights of the white man, let him consider well that the rights of all are equally assailed.  “Nephew,” said Algernon Sidney in prison, on the night before his execution, “I value not my own life a chip; but what concerns me is, that the law which takes away my life may hang every one of you, whenever it is thought convenient.”