and must suffer so much, to form what will become the historical judgment on the questions at issue.  The law under which the North is fighting is the supreme one—­ that of self-preservation.  Even if we had let you alone—­permitted you to separate and become independent without a blow, war would have come soon.  You would not and could not have let us alone.  Consider but one point:  your slaves would merely have to pass the long boundary line stretching nearly across the continent, in order to be on free soil.  You could compel their return only by conquering and almost annihilating the North.  You will say that we should think as you do on the subject, and I must answer that it is every man and woman’s right to think according to individual conscience, according to the light within.  Deny this right, and you put no bounds to human slavery.  Pardon me, but looking in your eyes and those of these ladies, I can see that I should become a slave instantly if you had your way.  Unconsciously and inevitably you would make me one, for it is your strongest impulse to make me agree with you, to see things exactly as you do.  The fact that you sincerely believe you are right would make no difference if I just as sincerely believed you were wrong.  If I could not think and act for myself I should be a slave.  You might say, ’We know we are right, that what we believe has the Divine sanction.’  That is what the tormentors of the Inquisition said and believed; that is what my Puritan and persecuting forefathers said and believed; what does history say now?  The world is growing wise enough to understand that God has no slaves.  He endows men and women with a conscience.  The supreme obligation is to be true to this.  When any one who has passed the bounds of childhood says to us, ‘I don’t think this is right,’ we take an awful responsibility, we probably are guilty of usurpation, if we substitute our will for his.  In our sincerity we may argue, reason and entreat, but in the presence of another’s conscience unconvinced and utterly opposed to us, where is human slavery to end if one man, or a vast number of men, have the power to say, ’You shall’?”

Scoville had kept his eyes fixed on Mr. Baron, and saw that he was almost writhing under the expression of views so repugnant to him—­ views which proved his whole scheme of life and action to be wrong.  Now the young man turned his glance suddenly on Miss Lou, and in her high color, parted lips and kindled eyes, saw abundant proof that she, as he had wished, was taking to herself the deep personal application of his words.  Her guardians and Mrs. Whately observed this truth also, and now bitterly regretted that they had invited the Union officer.  It seemed to them a sort of malign fate that he had been led, unconsciously as they supposed, to pronounce in the presence of the girl such vigorous condemnation of their action.  Had they not that very day sought to override the will, the conscience, the whole shrinking, protesting womanhood of the one who had listened so eagerly as the wrong meditated against her was explained?  Scoville had not left them even the excuse that they believed they were right, having shown the girl that so many who believed this were wrong.  Miss Lou’s expression made at least one thing clear—­she was emancipated and had taken her destiny into her own hands.