The “Fanaticism” Frederick Douglass Found in the Columbian Orator

The thirteen-year-old Frederick Douglas put down fifty cents for a copy of Caleb Bingham’s The Columbian Orator, which had been first published in 1797.   He described the anthology both as “a rich treasure”  and as a source of fanaticism because its contents included the fiery speeches of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, Lord Chatham, William Pitt, and Charles James Fox.  Armed with this volume, Douglass said “My own human nature, and the facts of my experience, to help me, I was equal to a contest with the religious advocates of slavery, whether among the whites or among the coloured people.”

But the selection he describes in the greatest detail is a dialogue between a master and his slave, who has been recaptured after a second attempt to run away.  Instead of being punished, he succeeds in winning his freedom  through the cogent analysis of the arguments for and against slavery.   Douglass recalls that “I could not help feeling that the day might come, when the well-directed answers made by the slave to the master, in this instance would find their counterpart in myself.”

This dialogue work had been extracted without credit by Caleb Bingham from the sixth volume of Evenings at Home (1796), a collaboration between John Aikin and his sister Anna Letitia Barbauld, author of the celebrated Lessons for Children (1778-1779) and Hymns in Prose for Children (1781). “A Dialogue between a Master and His Slave” was one of Aikin’s contributions to the project.  While the attribution has been known for some years, its significance has not always been appreciated.  Aikin and Barbauld were born into a family of Dissenters, which meant they were denied full religious liberty in their own country.  While their situation was not analogous to enslavement, they knew first hand the pain of  intolerance and alienation.  Aikin and Barbauld wrote as members of the cultured and liberal British middle class, they embraced the responsibility of teaching children how to read, analyze, and evaluate so that they would act as ethical social beings.   Here is the dialog:

Douglass was by no means the only nineteenth-century reader deeply influenced by a piece from Evenings, even though it is unclear if he ever learned that its author was John Aikin.  Douglass’s copy is preserved in the library of Cedar Hill, his home in the Washington D. C. area  maintained by the National Park Service.  Many thanks to Mr. Todd Allen, who very kindly brought this to my attention. The Columbian Orator was among the favorite children’s books of George Eliot and John Ruskin, a remarkable testimony to the power of a school book to shape the minds of young readers who were not always fortunate enough to own many books, but were hungry to read, analyze, evaluate, and act.

John Aikin, author of “A Dialogue between a Master and his Slave”

Christina Rossetti’s “Nursery Rhymes”

This week we’ve paid tribute to poets of the rude and rumbustious and the sly and snide  but we’ll mark the end of Children’s Book Week with the quiet, deceptively simple verse of Christina Rossetti.  Her Sing-Song is perhaps the greatest tribute any writer has paid to the English nursery rhyme.  Almost every type of traditional children’s verse Iona and Peter Opie catalogued in the Oxford Dictionary of Nursery Rhymes has its counterpart in Sing-Song, but delicately transformed into something entirely original, accompanied by Arthur Hughs’ tender, sharply observed illustrations.

She makes rhymes for mothers to love their little ones:

My baby has a mottled fist;

My baby has a neck in creases;

My baby kisses and is kissed

For he’s the very thing for kisses.

She gives a mother words when cuddles are not in order– for a little while:

Seldom “can’t,”

Seldom “don’t;”

Never “shan’t,”

Never ‘won’t.”

She introduces the rigorous mysteries  of nonsense:

A city plum is not a plum;

A dumb-bell is no bell, though dumb;

A statesman’s rat is not a rat;

A sailor’s cat is not a cat;

A soldier’s frog is not a frog;

A captain’s log is not a log.

She reminds little rough hands to be gentle:

Hurt no living thing,

Ladybird, nor butterfly,

Nor moth with dusty wing,

Nor cricket chirping cheerily,

Nor grasshopper so light of leap,

Nor dancing gnat, nor beetle fat,

Nor harmless worms that creep.

Hear what the poem sounds like read aloud.

She glories in the colors:

What is pink? a rose is pink

By the fountain’s brink.

What is red? a poppy’s red

In its barley bed.

What is blue? the sky is blue

Where the clouds float thro’.

What is white? a swan is white

Sailing in the light.

What is yellow? pears are yellow,

Rich and ripe and mellow.

Wnat is green? the grass is green,

With small flowers between.

What is violet? clouds are violet

In the summer twilight.

What is orange? why an orange,

Just an orange!

And closing with the poem  set to music and sung.