I conclude these remarks by copying the following portrait of the religion of the south, (which is, by communion and fellowship, the religion of the north,) which I soberly affirm is “true to the life,” and without caricature or the slightest exaggeration.  It is said to have been drawn, several years before the present anti-slavery agitation began, by a northern Methodist preacher, who, while residing at the south, had an opportunity to see slaveholding morals, manners, and piety, with his own eyes.  “Shall I not visit for these things? saith the Lord.  Shall not my soul be avenged on such a nation as this?”

A PARODY

     “Come, saints and sinners, hear me tell
     How pious priests whip Jack and Nell,
     And women buy and children sell,
     And preach all sinners down to hell,
     And sing of heavenly union.

     “They’ll bleat and baa, dona like goats,
     Gorge down black sheep, and strain at motes,
     Array their backs in fine black coats,
     Then seize their negroes by their throats,
     And choke, for heavenly union.

     “They’ll church you if you sip a dram,
     And damn you if you steal a lamb;
     Yet rob old Tony, Doll, and Sam,
     Of human rights, and bread and ham;
     Kidnapper’s heavenly union.

     “They’ll loudly talk of Christ’s reward,
     And bind his image with a cord,
     And scold, and swing the lash abhorred,
     And sell their brother in the Lord
     To handcuffed heavenly union.

     “They’ll read and sing a sacred song,
     And make a prayer both loud and long,
     And teach the right and do the wrong,
     Hailing the brother, sister throng,
     With words of heavenly union.

     “We wonder how such saints can sing,
     Or praise the Lord upon the wing,
     Who roar, and scold, and whip, and sting,
     And to their slaves and mammon cling,
     In guilty conscience union.

     “They’ll raise tobacco, corn, and rye,
     And drive, and thieve, and cheat, and lie,
     And lay up treasures in the sky,
     By making switch and cowskin fly,
     In hope of heavenly union.

     “They’ll crack old Tony on the skull,
     And preach and roar like Bashan bull,
     Or braying ass, of mischief full,
     Then seize old Jacob by the wool,
     And pull for heavenly union.

     “A roaring, ranting, sleek man-thief,
     Who lived on mutton, veal, and beef,
     Yet never would afford relief
     To needy, sable sons of grief,
     Was big with heavenly union.

     “‘Love not the world,’ the preacher said,
     And winked his eye, and shook his head;
     He seized on Tom, and Dick, and Ned,
     Cut short their meat, and clothes, and bread,
     Yet still loved heavenly union.