Additional Passages from Chapter IX

Like their masters (slaves who become fathers), they are not permitted to partake of those ineffable sensations which nature inspires in the hearts of fathers and mothers; they must repel them all, and become callous and passive. This unnatural state often occasions the most acute, the most pungent, of their afflictions; they have no time, like us, tenderly to rear their helpless offspring . . .

Were I to be possessed of a plantation, and my slaves treated as in general they are here, never could I rest in peace; my peace would be perpetually disturbed . . .

Can it be possible that the force of custom should ever make me deaf to all these reflections (cruel abuse and degradation of slaves), and as insensible to the injustice of that trade, and to their miseries, as the rich inhabitants of this town seem to be? What then is man, this being who boasts so much of the excellence and dignity of his nature?

I have not resided here long enough to become insensible of pain for the objects which I every day behold.

The history of the earth! Doth it present any thing but crimes of the most heinous nature, committed from one end of the world to the other? We observe avarice, rapine, and murder, equally prevailing in all parts. History perpetually tells us of millions of people abandoned to the caprice of the maddest princes, and of whole nations devoted to the blind fury of tyrants; countries destroyed; nations alternately buried in ruins by other nations; some parts of the world, beautifully cultivated, returned again to their pristine state; the fruits of ages of industry, the toil of thousands, in a short time destroyed by a few! If one corner breathes in peace for a few years, it is, in turn, subjected, torn, and leveled. One would almost believe the principles of action in man . . . to be poisoned in their most essential parts. We are certainly not that class of beings which we vainly think ourselves to be. Man, an animal of prey, seems to have rapine and the love of bloodshed implanted in his heart; nay, to hold it the most honorable occupation in society. We never speak of a hero of mathematics, a hero of knowledge or humanity; no! this illustrious appellation is reserved for the most successful butchers of the world.

Every thing is submitted to the power of the strongest. Men, like the elements, are always at war: the weakest yield to the most potent; force, subtilty, and malice, always triumph over unguarded honesty and simplicity.

We love to talk of virtue, and to admire its beauty, while in the shade of solitude and retirement; but, when we step forth into active life, if it happens to be in competition with any passion or desire, do we observe it prevail?

Such is the perverseness of human nature!