NOTE. There is usually re-exported from twenty to thirty million dollars worth of the foreign articles imported. In 1859 the re-exports were to the value of $14,509,971; in 1858 they were $30,886,142; in 1857 they were $23,975,617; and in 1856, but $16,378,578. By adding the re-exports to the imports entered for consumption, the product will show the whole amount of the imports. The above figures are from the Congressional Report on Finances, 1857-8, and the Report on Commerce and Navigation, 1859.



TABLE X.

STATEMENT SHOWING THE AMOUNT OF CANE SUGAR CONSUMED IN THE UNITED STATES, ANNUALLY, WITH THE PROPORTIONS THAT ARE DOMESTIC OR FOREIGN, DURING THE YEARS STATED—THE YEAR ENDING DECEMBER 31.

- YEARS. FOREIGN. DOMESTIC. TOTAL. - 1850. lbs. 319,420,800 lbs. 283,183,040 lbs. 603,603,840 1851. 406,530,880 240,661,120 646,206,400 1852. 440,289,920 265,796,160 706,086,080 1853. 449,366,400 386,128,960 835,495,360 1854. 337,912,960 522,954,560 863,067,520 1855. 431,432,960 304,731,520 846,164,480 1856. 594,254,080 276,568,320 848,422,400 1857. 541,553,600 87,360,000 628,913,600 1858. 548,257,920 310,740,160 870,222,080 -

STATEMENT SHOWING THE AMOUNT, IN GALLONS, OF MOLASSES CONSUMED IN THE UNITED STATES, ANNUALLY, WITH THE PROPORTIONS WHICH ARE FOREIGN OR DOMESTIC, DURING THE YEARS STATED—THE YEAR ENDING DECEMBER 31.

- YEARS. FOREIGN. DOMESTIC. TOTAL. - 1850. Gals. 24,806,949 Gals. 12,202,300 Gals. 37,019,249 1851. 33,238,278 10,709,740 43,948,018 1852. 29,417,511 18,840,000 48,258,511 1853. 28,576,821 26,930,000 55,536,821 1854. 24,437,019 32,053,000 56,493,019 1855. 23,533,423 24,251,207 47,266,085 1856. 23,014,878 16,584,000 39,608,878 1857. 23,266,404 5,242,380 28,508,784 1858. 24,795,374 20,373,790 45,169,164 -

NOTE. The above table is taken from the Shipping and Commercial List, and New York Price Current, January 22, 1859. The sources of supply are the same as when the first edition went to press, and the proportions from slave labor and free labor countries respectively, has undergone very little change. The year ends December 31st, while the Congressional fiscal year ends June 30th.

The value of imports of Sugar, for the year ending June 30, 1858, from a few principal countries, stood thus: Cuba, $15,555,409; Porto Rico, $3,584,503; British West Indies, $386,546; British Guiana, $255,481; British Honduras, $26; Hayti, $851; San Domingo, $5,529.



TABLE XI.

COTTON IMPORTED INTO GREAT BRITAIN FROM VARIOUS COUNTRIES, QUANTITY RE-EXPORTED, AND STOCK ON HAND DECEMBER 31, FOR A SERIES OF YEARS, IN POUNDS. BY DEDUCTING THE EXPORTS AND THE STOCK ON HAND AT THE END OF EACH YEAR FROM THE WHOLE IMPORTS, THE REMAINDER IS THE QUANTITY TAKEN FOR CONSUMPTION.

========================================================================== WEST FROM FROM FROM INDIES UNITED FROM MEDITER- EAST AND OTHER YEARS. STATES. BRAZIL. RANEAN. INDIES. GUIANA. COUNTRIES. - - - 1840. 487,856,504 14,779,171 8,324,937 77,011,839 866,157 3,649,402 1841. 358,240,964 16,671,348 9,097,180 97,388,153 1,533,197 5,061,513 1842. 414,030,779 15,222,828 4,489,017 92,972,609 593,603 4,441,250 1843. 574,738,520 18,675,123 9,674,076 65,709,729 1,260,444 3,135,224 1844. 517,218,662 21,084,744 12,406,327 88,639,776 1,707,194 5,054,641 1845. 626,650,412 20,157,633 14,614,699 58,437,426 1,394,447 725,336 1846. 401,949,393 14,746,321 14,278,447 34,540,143 1,201,857 1,140,113 1847. 364,599,291 19,966,922 4,814,268 83,934,614 793,933 598,587 1848. 600,247,488 19,971,378 7,231,861 84,101,961 640,437 827,036 1849. 634,504,050 30,738,133 17,369,843 70,838,515 944,307 1,074,164 1850. 493,153,112 30,299,982 18,931,414 118,872,742 228,913 2,090,698 1851. 596,638,962 19,339,104 16,950,525 122,626,976 446,529 1,377,653 1852. 765,630,544 26,506,144 48,058,640 84,922,432 703,696 3,960,992 1853. 658,451,796 24,190,628 28,353,575 181,848,160 350,428 2,084,162 1854. 722,151,346 19,703,600 23,503,003 119,836,009 409,110 1,730,081 1855. 681,629,424 24,577,952 32,904,153 145,179,216 468,452 6,992,755 1856. 780,040,016 21,830,704 34,616,848 180,496,624 462,784 6,439,328 1857. 654,758,048 29,910,832 24,882,144 250,338,144 1,443,568 7,986,160 1858. 732,403,840 16,466,800 34,867,840 138,253,360 9,862,272 - - - -

============================================= TOTAL AMOUNT STOCKS, YEARS. IMPORTED. EXPORTED. DECEMBER 31. + -+ -+ + 1840. 592,488,010 38,673,229 233,600,000 1841. 487,992,355 37,673,586 247,760,000 1842. 531,750,086 45,251,248 269,760,000 1843. 673,193,116 39,620,000 368,280,000 1844. 646,111,304 47,222,560 414,760,000 1845. 721,979,953 42,916,384 478,160,000 1846. 467,856,274 65,930,704 263,520,000 1847. 474,707,615 74,954,320 204,760,000 1848. 713,020,161 74,019,792 239,440,000 1849. 755,469,012 98,893,536 263,760,000 1850. 663,576,861 102,469,696 248,960,000 1851. 757,379,749 111,980,400 237,600,000 1852. 929,782,448 111,894,303 322,960,000 1853. 895,278,749 148,596,680 327,000,000 1854. 887,333,149 123,326,112 282,520,000 1855. 891,751,952 124,368,100 226,600,000 1856. 1,023,886,304 146,660,864 197,080,000 1857. 969,318,896 131,928,720 217,040,000 1858. 931,847,056 153,035,680 184,782,000 -+ -+ -+ -



AVERAGE WEEKLY CONSUMPTION OF COTTON IN EUROPE, FOR A SERIES OF YEARS, IN POUNDS.[135]

================================================================== COUNTRIES. 1850. 1851. 1852. 1853. - France 2,830,800 2,869,200 4,230,000 3,607,200 Belgium 453,600 446,000 653,600 615,200 Holland 415,200 415,200 546,000 469,200 Germany 661,200 846,000 976,800 1,107,600 Trieste 915,200 884,400 1,038,400 792,400 Genoa, Naples, etc. 223,200 238,400 376,800 392,000 Spain 592,400 707,200 730,400 653,600 Russia, Norway, etc. 1,169,200 1,169,200 1,622,800 1,600,000 Total on Continent 7,260,800 7,575,600 10,174,800 9,237,200 Add Great Britain 11,650,000 12,795,200 14,316,000 14,545,200 Total weekly European Consumption 18,910,800 20,370,800 24,490,800 23,882,400

============================================================================ COUNTRIES. 1854. 1855. 1856. 1857. 1858. - France 3,400,000 3,684,400 4,046,000 3,438,400 Belgium 538,400 484,400 615,200 438,400 Holland 661,200 684,400 761,200 753,200 Germany 1,592,400 822,800 1,900,000 444,800 Trieste 715,200 651,200 746,000 576,800 Genoa, Naples, etc. 322,800 439,400 846,000 692,000 Spain 715,200 876,800 938,400 692,000 Russia, Norway, etc. 1,030,800 961,600 1,769,200 1,538,400 Total on Continent 8,976,000 9,414,000 11,622,000 9,786,000 Add Great Britain 15,131,600 16,161,200 16,794,800 15,626,000 16,533,200 Total weekly European Consumption 24,107,600 25,575,200 28,416,800 25,412,000

FOOTNOTE:

[135] The London Economist, from which we copy, observes, that the figures in this table differ slightly from some other estimates, as must be the case in all computations that are not official, but that from examination it has reason to think them as near the truth as any practical object can require. The quantities consumed in each country include the direct imports from the producing countries, as well as the indirect imports, chiefly from England. The consumption on the Continent, for 1858, was not known. January 15, 1859, the date of publication of the Economist. The bales are estimated at 400 lbs. each.



TABLE XII.

SUMMARY STATEMENT OF THE VALUE OF EXPORTS OF THE GROWTH, PRODUCE, AND MANUFACTURE OF THE UNITED STATES, FOR THE YEAR ENDING JUNE 30, 1859; THE PRODUCTIONS OF THE NORTH AND OF THE SOUTH, RESPECTIVELY, BEING PLACED IN OPPOSITE COLUMNS; AND THE ARTICLES OF A MIXED ORIGIN BEING STATED SEPARATELY.—Report on Com. and Nav., 1859.

============================================================================== EXPORTS OF THE NORTH. EXPORTS OF THE SOUTH. PRODUCT OF THE FOREST. PRODUCT OF THE FOREST. Wood and its products, $7,829,666 Wood and its products, $2,210,884 Ashes, pot and pearl, 643,861 Tar and pitch 141,058 Ginseng, 54,204 Rosin and turpentine, 2,248,381 Skins and furs, 1,361,352 Spirits of turpentine, 1,306,035 PRODUCT OF AGRICULTURE. PRODUCT OF AGRICULTURE. Animals and their products, 15,262,769 Animals and their products, 287,048 Wheat and wheat flour, 15,113,455 Wheat and wheat flour, 2,169,328 Indian corn and meal, 2,206,396 Indian corn and meal, 110,976 Other grains, biscuit, and Biscuit or ship bread, 12,864 vegetables, 2,226,585 Rice, 2,207,148 Hemp, and Clover seed, 546,060 Cotton, 161,434,923 Flax seed, 8,177 Tobacco, in leaf, 21,074,038 Hops, 53,016 Brown sugar, 196,935 - $45,305,541 $193,399,618

ARTICLES OF MIXED ORIGIN.

Refined sugar, wax, chocolate, molasses, $ 550,937 Spirituous liquors, ale, porter, beer, cider, vinegar, linseed oil, 1,370,787 Household furniture, carriages, rail-road cars, etc. 1,722,797 Hats, fur, silk, palm leaf, saddlery, trunks, valises, 317,727 Tobacco, manufactured and snuff, 3,402,491 Gunpowder, leather, boots, shoes, cables, cordage, 2,011,931 Salt, lead, iron and its manufactures, 5,744,952 Copper and brass, and manufactures of, 1,048,246 Drugs and medicines, candles and soap, 1,933,973 Cotton fabrics of all kinds, 8,316,222 Other products of manufactures and mechanics, 3,852,910 Coal and ice, 818,117 Products not enumerated, 4,132,857 Gold and silver, in coin and bullion, 57,502,305 Products of the sea, being oil, fish, whalebone, etc. 4,462,974 —————— $97,189,226 Add Northern exports, 45,305,541 Add Southern exports, 193,399,618 —————— Total exports, $335,894,385 ———————————————————————————————————————

EXPLANATORY NOTE.—The whole of the exports from the ports of Delaware, Baltimore, and New Orleans, are placed in the column of Northern exports, because there is no means of determining what proportion of them were from free or slave States, and it has been thought best to give this advantage to the North. Taking into the account only the heavier amounts, the exports from these ports foot up $11,287,898; of which near one-half consisted of provisions and lumber. The total imports for the year were $338,768,130. Of this $20,895,077 were re-exported, which, added to the domestic exports, makes the total exports $356,789,462, thus leaving a balance in our favor of $18,021,332.



LIBERTY AND SLAVERY:

OR,

SLAVERY IN THE LIGHT OF MORAL AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY.

BY

ALBERT TAYLOR BLEDSOE, LL. D.,

PROFESSOR OF MATHEMATICS IN THE UNIVERSITY OF VIRGINIA.

LIBERTY AND SLAVERY:

OR,

SLAVERY IN THE LIGHT OF MORAL AND POLITICAL PHILOSOPHY,



INTRODUCTION.

THIS work has, for the most part, been thought out for several years, and various portions of it reduced to writing. Though we have long cherished the design of preparing it for the press, yet other engagements, conspiring with a spirit of procrastination, have hitherto induced us to defer the execution of this design. Nor should we have prosecuted it, as we have done, during a large portion of our last summer vacation, and the leisure moments of the first two months of the present session of the University, but for the solicitation of two intelligent and highly-esteemed friends. In submitting the work, as it now is, to the judgment of the truth-loving and impartial reader, we beg leave to offer one or two preliminary remarks.

We have deemed it wise and proper to notice only the more decent, respectable, and celebrated among the abolitionists of the North. Those scurrilous writers, who deal in wholesale abuse of Southern character, we have deemed unworthy of notice. Their writings are, no doubt, adapted to the taste of their readers; but as it is certain that no educated gentleman will tolerate them, so we would not raise a finger to promote their downfall, nor to arrest their course toward the oblivion which so inevitably awaits them.

In replying to the others, we are conscious that we have often used strong language; for which, however, we have no apology to offer. We have dealt with their arguments and positions rather than with their motives and characters. If, in pursuing this course, we have often spoken strongly, we merely beg the reader to consider whether we have not also spoken justly. We have certainly not spoken without provocation. For even these men—the very lights and ornaments of abolitionism—have seldom condescended to argue the great question of Liberty and Slavery with us as with equals. On the contrary, they habitually address us as if nothing but a purblind ignorance of the very first elements of moral science could shield our minds against the force of their irresistible arguments. In the overflowing exuberance of their philanthropy, they take pity of our most lamentable moral darkness, and graciously condescend to teach us the very A B C of ethical philosophy! Hence, if we have deemed it a duty to lay bare their pompous inanities, showing them to be no oracles, and to strip their pitiful sophisms of the guise of a profound philosophy, we trust that no impartial reader will take offense at such vindication of the South against her accusers and despisers.

In this vindication, we have been careful throughout to distinguish between the abolitionists, our accusers, and the great body of the people of the North. Against these we have said nothing, and we could say nothing; since for these we entertain the most profound respect. We have only assailed those by whom we have been assailed; and we have held each and every man responsible only for what he himself has said and done. We should, indeed, despise ourselves if we could be guilty of the monstrous injustice of denouncing a whole people on account of the sayings and doings of a portion of them. We had infinitely rather suffer such injustice—as we have so long done—than practice it toward others.

We cannot flatter ourselves, of course, that the following work is without errors. But these, whatever else may be thought of them, are not the errors of haste and inconsideration. For if we have felt deeply on the subject here discussed, we have also thought long, and patiently endeavored to guard our minds against fallacy. How far this effort has proved successful, it is the province of the candid and impartial reader alone to decide. If our arguments and views are unsound, we hope he will reject them. On the contrary, if they are correct and well-grounded, we hope he will concur with us in the conclusion, that the institution of slavery, as it exists among us at the South, is founded in political justice, is in accordance with the will of GOD and the designs of his providence, and is conducive to the highest, purest, best interests of mankind.



CHAPTER I.

THE NATURE OF CIVIL LIBERTY.

The commonly-received definition of Civil Liberty.—Examination of the commonly-received definition of Civil Liberty.—No good law ever limits or abridges the Natural Liberty of Mankind.—The distinction between Rights and Liberty.—The Relation between the State of Nature and Civil Society.—Inherent and Inalienable Rights.—Conclusion of the First Chapter.

FEW subjects, if any, more forcibly demand our attention, by their intrinsic grandeur and importance, than the great doctrine of human liberty. Correct views concerning this are, indeed, so intimately connected with the most profound interests, as well as with the most exalted aspirations, of the human race, that any material departure therefrom must be fraught with evil to the living, as well as to millions yet unborn. They are so inseparably interwoven with all that is great and good and glorious in the destiny of man, that whosoever aims to form or to propagate such views should proceed with the utmost care, and, laying aside all prejudice and passion, be guided by the voice of reason alone.

Hence it is to be regretted—deeply regretted—that the doctrine of liberty has so often been discussed with so little apparent care, with so little moral earnestness, with so little real energetic searching and longing after truth. Though its transcendent importance demands the best exertion of all our powers, yet has it been, for the most part, a theme for passionate declamation, rather than of severe analysis or of protracted and patient investigation. In the warm praises of the philosopher, no less than in the glowing inspirations of the poet, it often stands before us as a vague and ill-defined something which all men are required to worship, but which no man is bound to understand. It would seem, indeed, as if it were a mighty something not to be clearly seen, but only to be deeply felt. And felt it has been, too, by the ignorant as well as by the learned, by the simple as well as by the wise: felt as a fire in the blood, as a fever in the brain, and as a phantom in the imagination, rather than as a form of light and beauty in the intelligence. How often have the powers of darkness surrounded its throne, and desolation marked its path! How often from the altars of this unknown idol has the blood of human victims streamed! Even here, in this glorious land of ours, how often do the too-religious Americans seem to become deaf to the most appalling lessons of the past, while engaged in the frantic worship of this their tutelary deity! At this very moment, the highly favored land in which we live is convulsed from its centre to its circumference, by the agitations of these pious devotees of freedom; and how long ere scenes like those which called forth the celebrated exclamation of Madame Roland—"O Liberty, what crimes are perpetrated in thy name!" may be enacted among us, it is not possible for human sagacity or foresight to determine.

If no one would talk about liberty except those who had taken the pains to understand it, then would a perfect calm be restored, and peace once more bless a happy people. But there are so many who imagine they understand liberty as Falstaff knew the true prince, namely, by instinct, that all hope of such a consummation must be deferred until it may be shown that their instinct is a blind guide, and its oracles are false. Hence the necessity of a close study and of a clear analysis of the nature and conditions of civil liberty, in order to a distinct delineation of the great idol, which all men are so ready to worship, but which so few are willing to take the pains to understand. In the prosecution of such an inquiry, we intend to consult neither the pecuniary interests of the South nor the prejudices of the North; but calmly and immovably proceed to discuss, upon purely scientific principles, this great problem of our social existence and national prosperity, upon the solution of which the hopes and destinies of mankind in no inconsiderable measure depend. We intend no appeal to passion or to sordid interest, but only to the reason of the wise and good. And if justice, or mercy, or truth, be found at war with the institution of slavery, then, in the name of God, let slavery perish. But however guilty, still let it be tried, condemned, and executed according to law, and not extinguished by a despotic and lawless power more terrific than itself.

Sec. I. The commonly-received definition of civil liberty.

"Civil liberty," says Blackstone, "is no other than natural liberty so far restrained as is necessary and expedient for the general advantage." This definition seems to have been borrowed from Locke, who says that, when a man enters into civil society, "he is to part with so much of his natural liberty, in providing for himself, as the good, prosperity, and safety of the society shall require." So, likewise, say Paley, Berlamaqui, Rutherforth, and a host of others. Indeed, among jurists and philosophers, such seems to be the commonly-received definition of civil liberty. It seems to have become a political maxim that civil liberty is no other than a certain portion of our natural liberty, which has been carved therefrom, and secured to us by the protection of the laws.

But is this a sound maxim? Has it been deduced from the nature of things, or is it merely a plausible show of words? Is it truth—solid and imperishable truth—or merely one of those fair semblances of truth, which, through the too hasty sanction of great names, have obtained a currency among men? The question is not what Blackstone, or Locke, or Paley may have thought, but what is truth? Let us examine this point, then, in order that our decision may be founded, not upon the authority of man, but, if possible, in the wisdom of God.

Sec. II. Examination of the commonly-received definition of civil liberty.

Before we can determine whether such be the origin of civil liberty, we must first ascertain the character of that natural liberty out of which it is supposed to be reserved. What, then, is natural liberty? What is the nature of the material out of which our civil liberty is supposed to be fashioned by the art of the political sculptor? It is thus defined by Locke: "To understand political power right, and derive it from its original, we must consider what state all men are naturally in; and that is a state of perfect freedom to order their actions and dispose of their possessions and persons as they think fit, within the bounds of the law of nature, without asking leave or depending upon the will of any other man."[136] In perfect accordance with this definition, Blackstone says: "This natural liberty consists in a power of acting as one thinks fit, without any restraint or control, unless by the laws of nature, being a right inherent in us by birth, and one of the gifts of God to man at his creation, when he endowed him with the faculty of free-will." Such, according to Locke and Blackstone, is that natural liberty, which is limited and abridged, as they suppose, when we enter into the bonds of civil society.

Now mark its features: it is the gift of God to man at his creation; the very top and flower of his existence; that by which he is distinguished from the lower animals and raised to the rank of moral and accountable beings. Shall we sacrifice this divine gift, then, in order to secure the blessings of civil society? Shall we abridge or mutilate the image of God, stamped upon the soul at its creation, by which we are capable of knowing and obeying his law, in order to secure the aid and protection of man? Shall we barter away any portion of this our glorious birthright for any poor boon of man's devising? Yes, we are told—and why? Because, says Blackstone, "Legal obedience and conformity is infinitely more valuable than the wild and savage liberty which is sacrificed to obtain it."

But how is this? Now this natural liberty is a thing of light, and now it is a power of darkness. Now it is the gift of God, that moves within a sphere of light, and breathes an atmosphere of love; and anon, it is a wild and savage thing that carries terror in its train. It would be an angel of light, if it were not a power of darkness; and it would be a power of darkness, if it were not an angel of light. But as it is, it is both by turns, and neither long, but runs through its Protean changes, according to the exigencies of the flowing discourse of the learned author. Surely such inconsistency, so glaring and so portentous, and all exhibited on one and the same page, is no evidence that the genius of the great commentator was as steady and profound as it was elegant and classical.

The source of this vacillation is obvious. With Locke, he defines natural liberty to be a power of acting as one thinks fit, within the limits prescribed by the law of nature; but he soon loses sight of this all-important limitation, from which natural liberty derives its form and beauty. Hence it becomes in his mind a power to act as one pleases, without the restraint or control of any law whatever, either human or divine. The sovereign will and pleasure of the individual becomes the only rule of conduct, and lawless anarchy the condition which it legitimates. Thus, having loosed the bonds and marred the beauty of natural liberty, he was prepared to see it, now become so "wild and savage," offered up as a sacrifice on the altar of civil liberty.

This, too, was the great fundamental error of Hobbes. What Blackstone thus did through inadvertency, was knowingly and designedly done by the philosopher of Malmesbury. In a state of nature, says he, all men have a right to do as they please. Each individual may set up a right to all things, and consequently to the same things. In other words, in such a state there is no law, exept that of force. The strong arm of power is the supreme arbiter of all things. Robbery and outrage and murder are as lawful as their opposites. That is to say, there is no such thing as a law of nature; and consequently all things are, in a state of nature, equally allowable. Thus it was that Hobbes delighted to legitimate the horrors of a state of nature, as it is called, in order that mankind might, without a feeling of indignation or regret, see the wild and ferocious liberty of such a state sacrificed to despotic power. Thus it was that he endeavoured to recommend the "Leviathan," by contrasting it with the huger monster called Natural Liberty.

This view of the state of nature, by which all law and the great Fountain of all law are shut out of the world, was perfectly agreeable to the atheistical philosophy of Hobbes. From one who had extinguished the light of nature, and given dominion to the powers of darkness, no better could have been expected; but is it not deplorable that a Christian jurist should, even for a moment, have forgotten the great central light of his own system, and drawn his arguments from such an abyss of darkness?

Blackstone has thus lost sight of truth, not only in regard to his general propositions, but also in regard to particular instances. "The law," says he, "which restrains a man from doing mischief to his fellow-citizens diminishes the natural liberty of mankind." Now, is this true? The doing of mischief is contrary to the law of nature, and hence, according to the definition of Blackstone himself, the perpetration of it is not an exercise of any natural right. As no man possesses a natural right to do mischief, so the law which forbids it does not diminish the natural liberty of mankind. The law which forbids mischief is a restraint not upon the natural liberty, but upon the natural tyranny, of man.

Blackstone is by no means alone in the error to which we have alluded. By one of the clearest thinkers and most beautiful writers of the present age,[137] it is argued, "that as government implies restraint, it is evident we give up a certain portion of our liberty by entering into it." This argument would be valid, no doubt, if there were nothing in the world beside liberty to be restrained; but the evil passions of men, from which proceed so many frightful tyrannies and wrongs, are not to be identified with their rights or liberties. As government implies restraint, it is evident that something is restrained when we enter into it; but it does not follow that this something must be our natural liberty. The argument in question proceeds on the notion that government can restrain nothing, unless it restrain the natural liberty of mankind; whereas, we have seen, the law which forbids the perpetration of mischief, or any other wrong, is a restriction, not upon the liberty, but upon the tyranny, of the human will. It sets a bound and limit, not to any right conferred on us by the Author of nature, but upon the evil thoughts and deeds of which we are the sole and exclusive originators. Such a law, indeed, so far from restraining the natural liberty of man, recognizes his natural rights, and secures his freedom, by protecting the weak against the injustice and oppression of the strong. The way in which these authors show that natural liberty is, and of right ought to be, abridged by the laws of society, is, by identifying this natural freedom, not with a power to act as God wills, but with a power in conformity with our own sovereign will and pleasure. The same thing is expressly done by Paley.[138] "To do what we will," says he, "is natural liberty." Starting from this definition, it is no wonder that he should have supposed that natural liberty is restrained by civil government. In like manner, Burke first says, "That the effect of liberty to individuals is, that they may do what they please;" and then concludes, that in order to "secure some liberty," we make "a surrender in trust of the whole of it."[139] Thus the natural rights of mankind are first caricatured, and then sacrificed.

If there be no God, if there be no difference between right and wrong, if there be no moral law in the universe, then indeed would men possess a natural right to do mischief or to act as they please. Then indeed should we be fettered by no law in a state of nature, and liberty therein would be coextensive with power. Right would give place to might, and the least restraint, even from the best laws, would impair our natural freedom. But we subscribe to no such philosophy. That learned authors, that distinguished jurists, that celebrated philosophers, that pious divines, should thus deliberately include the enjoyment of our natural rights and the indulgence of our evil passions in one and the same definition of liberty, is, it seems to us, matter of the most profound astonishment and regret. It is to confound the source of all tyranny with the fountain of all freedom. It is to put darkness for light, and light for darkness. And it is to inflame the minds of men with the idea that they are struggling and contending for liberty, when, in reality, they may be only struggling and contending for the gratification of their malignant passions. Such an offense against all clear thinking, such an outrage against all sound political ethics, becomes the more amazing when we reflect on the greatness of the authors by whom it is committed, and the stupendous magnitude of the interests involved in their discussions.

Should we, then, exhibit the fundamental law of society, and the natural liberty of mankind, as antagonistic principles? Is not this the way to prepare the human mind, at all times so passionately, not to say so madly, fond of freedom, for a repetition of those tremendous conflicts and struggles beneath which the foundations of society have so often trembled, and some of its best institutions been laid in the dust? In one word, is it not high time to raise the inquiry, Whether there be, in reality, any such opposition as is usually supposed to exist between the law of the land and the natural rights of mankind? Whether such opposition be real or imaginary? Whether it exists in the nature of things, or only in the imagination of political theorists?

Sec. III. No good law ever limits or abridges the natural liberty of mankind

By the two great leaders of opposite schools, Locke and Burke, it is contended that when we enter into society the natural rights of self-defense is surrendered to the government. If any natural right, then, be limited or abridged by the laws of society, we may suppose the right of self-defense to be so; for this is the instance which is always selected to illustrate and confirm the reality of such a surrender of our natural liberty. It has, indeed, become a sort of maxim, that when we put on the bonds of civil society, we give up the natural right of self-defense.

But what does this maxim mean? Does it mean that we transfer the right to repel force by force? If so, the proposition is not true; for this right is as fully possessed by every individual after he has entered into society as it could have been in a state of nature. If he is assailed, or threatened with immediate personal danger, the law of the land does not require him to wait upon the strong but slow arm of government for protection. On the contrary, it permits him to protect himself, to repel force by force, in so far as this may be necessary to guard against injury to himself; and the law of nature allows no more. Indeed, if there be any difference, the law of the land allows a man to go further in the defense of self than he is permitted to go by the law of God. Hence, in this sense, the maxim under consideration is not true; and no man's natural liberty is abridged by the State.

Does this maxim mean, then, that in a state of nature every man has a right to redress his own wrongs by the subsequent punishment of the offender, which right the citizen has transferred to the government? It is clear that this must be the meaning, if it have any correct meaning at all. But neither in this sense is the maxim or proposition true. The right to punish an offender must rest upon the one or the other of two grounds: either upon the ground that the offender deserves punishment, or that his punishment is necessary to prevent similar offenses. Now, upon neither of these grounds has any man, even in a state of nature, the right to punish an offense committed against himself.

First, he has no right to punish such an offense on the ground that it deserves punishment. No man has, or ever had, the right to wield the awful attribute of retributive justice; that is, to inflict so much pain for so much guilt or moral turpitude. This is the prerogative of God alone. To his eye, all secrets are known, and all degrees of guilt perfectly apparent; and to him alone belongs the vengeance which is due for moral ill-desert. His law extends over the state of nature as well as over the state of civil society, and calls all men to account for their evil deeds. It is evident that, in so far as the intrinsic demerit of actions is concerned, it makes no difference whether they be punished here or hereafter. And beside, if the individual had possessed such a right in a state of nature, he has not transferred it to society; for society neither has nor claims any such right. Blackstone but utters the voice of the law when he says: "The end or final cause of human punishment is not by way of atonement or expiation, for that must be left to the just determination of the supreme Being, but a precaution against future offenses of the same kind." The exercise of retributive justice belongs exclusively to the infallible Ruler of the world, and not to frail, erring man, who himself so greatly stands in need of mercy. Hence, the right to punish a transgressor on the ground that such punishment is deserved, has not been transferred from the individual to civil society: first, because he had no such natural right to transfer; and, secondly, because society possesses no such right.

In the second place, if we consider the other ground of punishment, it will likewise appear that the right to punish never belonged to the individual, and consequently could not have been transferred by him to society. For, by the law of nature, the individual has no right to punish an offense against himself in order to prevent further offences of the same kind. If the object of human punishment be, as indeed it is, to prevent the commission of crime, by holding up examples of terror to evil-doers, then, it is evidently no more the natural right of the party injured to redress the wrong, than it is the right of others. All men are interested in the prevention of wrongs, and hence all men should unite to redress them. All men are endowed by their Creator with a sense of justice, in order to impel them to secure its claims, and throw the shield of its protection around the weak and oppressed.

The prevention of wrong, then, is clearly the natural duty, and consequently the natural right, of all men.

This duty should be discharged by others, rather than by the party aggrieved. For it is contrary to the law of nature itself, as both Locke and Burke agree, that any man should be "judge in his own case;" that any man should, by an ex post facto decision, determine the amount of punishment due to his enemy, and proceed to inflict it upon him. Such a course, indeed, so far from preventing offenses, would inevitably promote them; instead of redressing injuries, would only add wrong to wrong; and instead of introducing order, would only make confusion worse confounded, and turn the moral world quite upside down.

On no ground, then, upon which the right to punish may be conceived to rest, does it appear that it was ever possessed, or could ever have been possessed, by the individual. And if the individual never possessed such a right, it is clear that he has never transferred it to society. Hence, this view of the origin of government, however plausible at first sight, or however generally received, has no real foundation in the nature of things. It is purely a creature of the imagination of theorists; one of the phantoms of that manifold, monstrous, phantom deity called Liberty, which has been so often invoked by the pseudo philanthropists and reckless reformers of the present day to subvert not only the law of capital punishment, but also other institutions and laws which have received the sanction of both God and man.

The simple truth is, that we are all bound by the law of nature and the law of God to love our neighbor as ourselves. Hence it is the duty of every man, in a state of nature, to do all in his power to protect the rights and promote the interests of his fellow-men. It is the duty of all men to consult together, and concert measures for the general good. Right here it is, then, that the law of man, the constitution of civil society, comes into contact with the law of God and rests upon it. Thus, civil society arises, not from a surrender of individual rights, but from a right originally possessed by all; nay, from a solemn duty originally imposed upon all by God himself—a duty which must be performed, whether the individual gives his consent or not. The very law of nature itself requires, as we have seen, not only the punishment of the offender, but also that he be punished acccording to a pre-established law, and by the decision of an impartial tribunal. And in the enactment of such law, as well as in the administration, the collective wisdom of society, or its agents, moves in obedience to the law of God, and not in pursuance of rights derived from the individual.

Sec. IV. The distinction between rights and liberty.

In the foregoing discussion we have, in conformity to the custom of others, used the terms rights and liberty as words of precisely the same import. But, instead of being convertible terms, there seems to be a very clear difference in their signification. If a man be taken, for example, and without cause thrown into prison, this deprives him of his liberty, but not of his right, to go where he pleases. The right still exists; and his not being allowed to enjoy this right, is precisely what constitutes the oppression in the case supposed. If there were no right still subsisting, then there would be no oppression. Hence, as the right exists, while the liberty is extinguished, it is evident they are distinct from each other. The liberty of a man in such a case, as in all others, would consist in an opportunity to enjoy his right, or in a state in which it might be enjoyed if he so pleased.

This distinction between rights and liberty is all-important to a clear and satisfactory discussion of the doctrine of human freedom. The great champions of that freedom, from a Locke down to a Hall, firmly and passionately grasping the natural rights of man, and confounding these with his liberty, have looked upon society as the restrainer, and not as the author, of that liberty. On the other hand, the great advocates of despotic power, from a Hobbes down to a Whewell, seeing that there can be no genuine liberty—that is, no secure enjoyment of one's rights—in a state of nature, have ascribed, not only our liberty, but all our existing rights also, to the State.

But the error of Locke is a noble and generous sentiment when compared with the odious dogma of Hobbes and Whewell. These learned authors contend that we derive all our existing rights from society. Do we, then, live and move and breathe and think and worship God only by rights derived from the State? No, certainly. We have these rights from a higher source. God gave them, and all the powers of earth combined cannot take them away. But as for our liberty, this we freely own is, for the most part, due to the sacred bonds of civil society. Let us render unto Caesar the things that are Caesar's, and unto God the things that are God's.

Sec. V. The relation between the state of nature and of civil society.

Herein, then, consists the true relation between the natural and the social states. Civil society does not abridge our natural rights, but secures and protects them. She does not assume our right of self-defense,—she simply discharges the duty imposed by God to defend us. The original right is in those who compose the body politic, and not in any individual. Hence, civil society does not impair our natural liberty, as actually existing in a state of nature, or as it might therein exist; for, in such a state, there would be no real liberty, no real enjoyment of natural rights.

Mr. Locke, as we have seen, defines the state of nature to be one of "perfect freedom." Why, then, should we leave it? "If man, in the state of nature, be so free," says he, "why will he part with his freedom? To which it is obvious to answer," he continues, "that though, in the state of nature, he hath such a right, yet the enjoyment of it is very uncertain, and constantly exposed to the invasion of others; for all being kings as much as he, every man his equal, and the greater part not strict observers of equity and justice, the enjoyment of the property he has in this state is very unsafe, very insecure. This makes him willing to quit a condition which, however free, is full of fears and continual dangers; and it is not without reason that he seeks out, and is willing to join in society with, others who are already united, or have a mind to unite, for the mutual preservation of their lives, liberties, and estates, which I call by the general name property."[140] What! can that be a state of perfect freedom which is subject to fears and perpetual dangers? In one word, can a reign of terror be the reign of liberty? It is evident, we think, that Locke has been betrayed into no little inaccuracy and confusion of thought from not having distinguished between rights and liberty.

The truth seems to be that, in a state of nature, we would possess rights, but we could not enjoy them. That is to say, notwithstanding all our rights, we should be destitute of freedom or liberty. Society interposes the strong arm of the law to protect our rights, to secure us in the enjoyment of them. She delivers us from the alarms, the dangers, and the violence of the natural state. Hence, under God, she is the mother of our peace and joy, by whose sovereign rule anarchy is abolished and liberty established. Liberty and social law can never be dissevered. Liberty, robed in law, and radiant with love, is one of the best gifts of God to man. But liberty, despoiled of law, is a wild, dark, fierce spirit of licentiousness, which tends "to uproar the universal peace."

Hence it is a frightful error to regard the civil state or government as antagonistic to the natural liberty of mankind; for this is, indeed, the author of the very liberty we enjoy. Good government it is that restrains the elements of tyranny and oppression, and introduces liberty into the world. Good government it is that shuts out the reign of anarchy, and secures the dominion of equity and goodness. He who would spurn the restraints of law, then, by which pride, and envy, and hatred, and malice, ambition, and revenge are kept within the sacred bounds of eternal justice,—he, we say, is not the friend of human liberty. He would open the flood-gates of tyranny and oppression; he would mar the harmony and extinguish the light of the world. Let no such man be trusted.

If the foregoing remarks be just, it would follow that the state of nature, as it is called, would be one of the most unnatural states in the world. We may conceive it to exist, for the sake of illustration or argument; but if it should actually exist, it would be at war with the law of nature itself. For this requires, as we have seen, that men should unite together, and frame such laws as the general good demands.

Not only the law, but the very necessities of nature, enjoin the institution of civil government. God himself has thus laid the foundations of civil society deep in the nature of man. It is an ordinance of Heaven, which no human decree can reverse or annul. It is not a thing of compacts, bound together by promises and paper, but is itself a law of nature as irreversible as any other. Compacts may give it one form or another, but in one form or another it must exist. It is no accidental or artificial thing, which may be made or unmade, which may be set up or pulled down, at the mere will and pleasure of man. It is a decree of God; the spontaneous and irresistible working of that nature, which, in all climates, through all ages, and under all circumstances, manifests itself in social organizations.

Sec. VI. Inherent and inalienable rights.

Much has been said about inherent and inalienable rights, which is either unintelligible or rests upon no solid foundation. "The inalienable rights of men" is a phrase often brandished by certain reformers, who aim to bring about "the immediate abolition of slavery." Yet, in the light of the foregoing discussion, it may be clearly shown that the doctrine of inalienable rights, if properly handled, will not touch the institution of slavery.

An inalienable right is either one which the possessor of it himself cannot alienate or transfer, or it is one which society has not the power to take from him. According to the import of the terms, the first would seem to be what is meant by an inalienable right; but in this sense it is not pretended that the right to either life or liberty has been transferred to society or alienated by the individual. And if, as we have endeavored to show, the right, or power, or authority of society is not derived from a transfer of individual rights, then it is clear that neither the right to life nor liberty is transferred to society. That is, if no rights are transferred, than these particular rights are still untransferred, and, if you please, untransferable. Be it conceded, then, that the individual has never transferred his right to life or liberty to society.

But it is not in the above sense that the abolitionist uses the expression, inalienable rights. According to his view, an inalienable right is one of which society itself cannot, without doing wrong, deprive the individual, or deny the enjoyment of it to him. This is evidently his meaning; for he complains of the injustice of society, or civil government, in depriving a certain portion of its subjects of civil freedom, and consigning them to a state of servitude. "Such an act," says he, "is wrong, because it is a violation of the inalienable rights of all men." But let us see if his complaint be just or well founded.

It is pretended by no one that society has the right to deprive any subject of either life or liberty, without good and sufficient cause or reason. On the contrary, it is on all hands agreed that it is only for good and sufficient reasons that society can deprive any portion of its subjects of either life or liberty. Nor can it be denied, on the other side, that a man may be deprived of either, or both, by a preordained law, in case there be a good and sufficient reason for the enactment of such law. For the crime of murder, the law of the land deprives the criminal of life: a fortiori, might it deprive him of liberty. In the infliction of such a penalty, the law seeks, as we have seen, not to deal out so much pain for so much guilt, nor even to deal out pain for guilt at all, but simply to protect the members of society, and secure the general good. The general good is the sole and sufficient consideration which justifies the State in taking either the life or the liberty of its subjects.

Hence, if we would determine in any case whether society is justified in depriving any of its members of civil freedom by law, we must first ascertain whether the general good demands the enactment of such a law. If it does, then such a law is just and good—as perfectly just and good as any other law which, for the same reason or on the same ground, takes away the life or liberty of its subjects. All this talk about the inalienable rights of men may have a very admirable meaning, if one will only be at the pains to search it out; but is it not evident that, when searched to the bottom, it has just nothing at all to do with the great question of slavery? But more of this hereafter.[141]

This great problem, as we have seen, is to be decided, not by an appeal to the inalienable rights of men, but simply and solely by a reference to the general good. It is to be decided, not by the aid of abstractions alone; a little good sense and practical sagacity should be allowed to assist in its determination. There are inalienable rights, we admit—inalienable both because the individual cannot transfer them, and because society can never rightfully deprive any man of their enjoyment. But life and liberty are not "among these." There are inalienable rights, we admit, but then such abstractions are the edge-tools of political science, with which it is dangerous for either men or children to play. They may inflict deep wounds on the cause of humanity; they can throw no light on the great problem of slavery.

One thing seems to be clear and fixed; and that is, that the rights of the individual are subordinate to those of the community. An inalienable right is a right coupled with a duty; a duty with which no other obligation can interfere. But, as we have seen, it is the duty, and consequently, the right, of society to make such laws as the general good demands. This inalienable right is conferred, and its exercise enjoined, by the Creator and Governor of the universe. All individual rights are subordinate to this inherent, universal, and inalienable right. It should be observed, however, that in the exercise of this paramount right, this supreme authority, no society possesses the power to contravene the principles of justice. In other words, it should be observed that no unjust law can ever promote the public good. Every law, then, which is not unjust, and which the public good demands, should be enacted by society.

But we have already seen and shall still more fully see, that the law which ordains slavery is not unjust in itself, or, in other words, that it interferes with none of the inalienable rights of man. Hence, if it be shown that the public good, and especially the good of the slave, demands such a law, then the question of slavery will be settled. We purpose to show this before we have done with the present discussion. And if, in the prosecution of this inquiry, we should be so fortunate as to throw only one steady ray of light on the great question of slavery, by which the very depths of society have been so fearfully convulsed, we shall be more than rewarded for all the labor which, with no little solicitude, we have felt constrained to bestow upon an attempt at its solution.

Sec. VII. Conclusion of the first chapter.

In conclusion, we shall merely add that if the foregoing remarks be just, it follows that the great problem of political philosophy is not precisely such as it is often taken to be by statesmen and historians. This problem, according to Mackintosh and Macaulay, consists in finding such an adjustment of the antagonistic principles of public order and private liberty, that neither shall overthrow or subvert the other, but each be confined within its own appropriate limits. Whereas, if we are not mistaken, these are not antagonistic, but co-ordinate, principles. The very law which institutes public order is that which introduces private liberty, since no secure enjoyment of one's rights can exist where public order is not maintained. And, on the other hand, unless private liberty be introduced, public order cannot be maintained, or at least such public order as should be established; for, if there be not private liberty, if there be no secure enjoyment of one's rights, then the highest and purest elements of our nature would have to be extinguished, or else exist in perpetual conflict with the surrounding despotism. As license is not liberty, so despotism is not order, nor even friendly to that enlightened, wholesome order, by which the good of the public and the individual are at the same time introduced and secured. In other words, what is taken from the one of these principles is not given to the other; on the contrary, every additional element of strength and beauty which is imparted to the one is an accession of strength and beauty to the other. Private liberty, indeed, lives and moves and has its very being in the bosom of public order. On the other hand, that public order alone which cherishes the true liberty of the individual is strong in the approbation of God and in the moral sentiments of mankind. All else is weakness, and death, and decay.

The true problem, then, is, not how the conflicting claims of these two principles may be adjusted, (for there is no conflict between them,) but how a real public order, whose claims are identical with those of private liberty, may be introduced and maintained. The practical solution of this problem, for the heterogeneous population of the South imperatively demands, as we shall endeavor to show, the institution of slavery; and that without such an institution it would be impossible to maintain either a sound public order or a decent private liberty. We shall endeavor to show, that the very laws or institution which is supposed by fanatical declaimers to shut out liberty from the Negro race among us, really shuts out the most frightful license and disorder from society. In one word, we shall endeavor to show that in preaching up liberty to and for the slaves of the South, the abolitionist is "casting pearls before swine," that can neither comprehend the nature, nor enjoy the blessings, of the freedom which is so officiously thrust upon them. And if the Negro race should be moved by their fiery appeals, it would only be to rend and tear in pieces the fair fabric of American liberty, which, with all its shortcomings and defects, is by far the most beautiful ever yet conceived or constructed by the genius of man.

FOOTNOTES:

[136] Locke on Civil Government, chap. ii.

[137] Robert Hall.

[138] Political Philosophy, chap. v.

[139] Reflections on the Revolution in France.

[140] Locke on Civil Government, chap. ix.

[141] Chap. ii. Sec. x.



CHAPTER II.

THE ARGUMENTS AND POSITIONS OF ABOLITIONISTS.

The first fallacy of the Abolitionist.—The second fallacy of the Abolitionist.—The third fallacy of the Abolitionist.—The fourth fallacy of the Abolitionist.—The fifth fallacy of the Abolitionist.—The sixth fallacy of the Abolitionist.—The seventh fallacy of the Abolitionist.—The eighth fallacy of the Abolitionist.—The ninth fallacy of the Abolitionist.—The tenth, eleventh, twelfth, thirteenth, fourteenth, fifteenth, and sixteenth fallacies of the Abolitionist; or his seven arguments against the right of a man to hold property in his fellow-man.—The seventeenth fallacy of the Abolitionist; or, the Argument from the Declaration of Independence.

HAVING in the preceding chapter discussed and defined the nature of civil liberty, as well as laid down some of the political conditions on which its existence depends, we shall now proceed to examine the question of slavery. In the prosecution of this inquiry, we shall, in the first place, consider the arguments and positions of the advocates of immediate abolition; and, in the second, point out the reasons and grounds on which the institution of slavery is based and its justice vindicated. The first branch of the investigation, or that relating to the arguments and positions of the abolitionist, will occupy the remainder of the present chapter.

It is insisted by abolitionists that the institution of slavery is, in all cases and under all circumstances, morally wrong, or a violation of the law of God. Such is precisely the ground assumed by the one side and denied by the other.

Thus says Dr. Wayland: "I have wished to make it clear that slavery, or the holding of men in bondage, and 'obliging them to labor for our benefit, without their contract or consent,' is always and everywhere, or, as you well express it, semper et ubique, a moral wrong, a violation of the obligations under which we are created to our fellow-men, and a transgression of the law of our Creator."

Dr. Fuller likewise: "The simple question is, Whether it is necessarily, and amid all circumstances, a crime to hold men in a condition where they labor for another without their consent or contract? and in settling this matter all impertinences must be retrenched."

In one word, Dr. Wayland insists that slavery is condemned by the law of God, by the moral law of the universe. We purpose to examine the arguments which he has advanced in favor of this position. We select his arguments for examination, because, as a writer on moral and political science, he stands so high in the northern portion of the Union. His work on these subjects has indeed long since passed the fiftieth thousand; a degree of success which, in his own estimation, authorizes him to issue his letters on slavery over the signature of "THE AUTHOR OF THE MORAL SCIENCE." But the very fact that his popularity is so great, and that he is the author of the Moral Science, is a reason why his arguments on a question of such magnitude should be subjected to a severe analysis and searching scrutiny, in order that, under the sanction of so imposing a name, no error may be propagated and no mischief done.

Hence we shall hold Dr. Wayland amenable to all the laws of logic. Especially shall we require him to adhere to the point he has undertaken to discuss, and to retrench all irrelevancies. If, after having subjected his arguments to such a process, it shall be found that every position which is assumed on the subject is directly contradicted by himself, we shall not make haste to introduce anarchy into the Southern States, in order to make it answer to the anarchy in his views of civil and political freedom. But whether this be the case or not, it is not for us to determine; we shall simply proceed to examine, and permit the impartial reader to decide for himself.

Sec. I. The first fallacy of the abolitionist.

The abolitionists do not hold their passions in subjection to reason. This is not merely the judgment of a Southern man: it is the opinion of the more decent and respectable abolitionists themselves. Thus says Dr. Channing, censuring the conduct of the abolitionists: "They have done wrong, I believe; nor is their wrong to be winked at because done fanatically or with good intentions; for how much mischief may be wrought with good designs! They have fallen into the common error of enthusiasts—that of exaggerating their object, of feeling as if no evil existed but that which they opposed, and as if no guilt could be compared with that of countenancing or upholding it."[142] In like manner, Dr. Wayland says: "I unite with you and the lamented Dr Channing in the opinion that the tone of the abolitionists at the North has been frequently, I fear I must say generally, 'fierce, bitter, and abusive.' The abolitionist press has, I believe, from the beginning, too commonly indulged in exaggerated statement, in violent denunciation, and in coarse and lacerating invective. At our late Missionary Convention in Philadelphia, I heard many things from men who claim to be the exclusive friends of the slave, which pained me more than I can express. It seemed to me that the spirit which many of them manifested was very different from the spirit of Christ. I also cheerfully bear testimony to the general courtesy, the Christian urbanity, and the calmness under provocation which, in a remarkable degree, characterized the conduct of the members from the South."

In the flood of sophisms which the abolitionists usually pour out in their explosions of passion, none is more common than what is technically termed by logicians the ignoratio elenchi, or a mistaking of the point in dispute. Nor is this fallacy peculiar to the more vulgar sort of abolitionists. It glares from the pages of Dr. Wayland, no less than from the writings of the most fierce, bitter, and vindictive of his associates in the cause of abolitionism. Thus, in one of his letters to Dr. Fuller, he says: "To present this subject in a simple light. Let us suppose that your family and mine were neighbors. We, our wives and children, are all human beings in the sense that I have described, and, in consequence of that common nature, and by the will of our common Creator, are subject to the law, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. Suppose that I should set fire to your house, shoot you as you came out of it, and seizing your wife and children, 'oblige them to labor for my benefit without their contract or consent.' Suppose, moreover, aware that I could not thus oblige them, unless they were inferior in intellect to myself, I should forbid them to read, and thus consign them to intellectual and moral imbecility. Suppose I should measure out to them the knowledge of God on the same principle. Suppose I should exercise this dominion over them and their children as long as I lived, and then do all in my power to render it certain that my children should exercise it after me. The question before us I suppose to be simply this: Would I, in so doing, act at variance with the relations existing between us as creatures of God? Would I, in other words, violate the supreme law of my Creator, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself? or that other, Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them? I do not see how any intelligent creature can give more than one answer to this question. Then I think that every intelligent creature must affirm that do this is wrong, or, in the other form of expression, that it is a great moral evil. Can we conceive of any greater?"

It was surely very kind in Dr. Wayland to undertake, with so much pains, to instruct us poor, benighted sons of the South in regard to the difference between right and wrong. We would fain give him full credit for all the kindly feeling he so freely professes for his "Southern brethren;" but if he really thinks that the question, whether arson, and murder, and cruelty are offenses against the "supreme law of the Creator," is still open for discussion among us, then we beg leave to inform him that he labors under a slight hallucination. If he had never written a word, we should have known, perhaps, that it is wrong for a man to set fire to his neighbor's house, and shoot him as he came out, and reduce his wife and children to a state of ignorance, degradation, and slavery. Nay, if we should find his house already burnt, and himself already shot, we should hardly feel justified in treating his wife and children in so cruel a manner. Not even if they were "guilty of a skin," or ever so degraded, should we deem ourselves justified in reducing them to a state of servitude. This is NOT "the question before us." We are quite satisfied on all such points. The precept, too, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself, was not altogether unknown in the Southern States before his letters were written. A committee of very amiable philanthropists came all the way from England, as the agents of some abolition society there, and told us all that the law of God requires us to love our neighbor as ourselves. In this benevolent work of enlightenment they were, if we mistake not, several months in advance of Dr. Wayland. We no longer need to be enlightened on such points. Being sufficiently instructed, we admit that we should love our neighbor as ourselves, and also that arson, murder, and so forth are violations of this law. But we want to know whether, semper et ubique, the institution of slavery is morally wrong. This is the question, and to this we intend to hold the author.

Sec. II. The second fallacy of the abolitionist.

Lest we should be suspected of misrepresentation, we shall state the position of Dr. Wayland in his own words. In regard to the institution of slavery, he says: "I do not see that it does not sanction the whole system of the slave-trade. If I have a right to a thing after I have gotten it, I have a natural right to the means necessary for getting it. If this be so, I should be as much justified in sending a vessel to Africa, murdering a part of the inhabitants of a village, and making slaves of the rest, as I should be in hunting a herd of wild animals, and either slaying them or subjecting them to the yoke."

Now mark the principle on which this most wonderful argument is based: "If I have a right to a thing after I have gotten it, I have a natural right to the means for getting it." That is to say, If I have the right to a slave, now that I have got him, then I may rightfully use all necessary means to reduce other men to slavery! I may shoot, burn, or murder, if by this means I can only get slaves! Was any consequence ever more wildly drawn? Was any non sequitur ever more glaring?

Let us see how this argument would apply to other things. If I have a right to a watch after I have gotten it, no matter how, then I have a right to use the means necessary to get watches; I may steal them from my neighbors! Or, if I have a right to a wife, provided I can get one, then may I shoot my friend and marry his widow! Such is the argument of one who seeks to enlighten the South and reform its institutions!

Sec. III. The third fallacy of the abolitionist.

Nearly allied to the foregoing argument is that of the same author, in which he deduces from the right of slavery, supposing it to exist, another retinue of monstrous rights. "This right also," says Dr. Wayland, referring to the right to hold slaves, "as I have shown, involves the right to use all the means necessary to its establishment and perpetuity, and, of course, the right to crush his intellectual and social nature, and to stupefy his conscience, in so far as may be necessary to enable me to enjoy this right with the least possible peril." This is a compound fallacy, a many-sided error. But we will consider only two phases of its absurdity.

In the first place, if the slaveholder should reason in this way, no one would be more ready than the author himself to condemn his logic. If any slaveholder should say, That because I have a right to my slaves, therefore I have the right to crush the intellectual and moral nature of men, in order to establish and perpetuate their bondage,—he would be among the first to cry out against such reasoning. This is evident from the fact that he everywhere commends those slaveholders who deem it their duty, as a return for the service of their slaves, to promote both their temporal and eternal good. He everywhere insists that such is the duty of slaveholders; and if such be their duty, they surely have no right to violate it, by crushing the intellectual and moral nature of those whom they are bound to elevate in the scale of being. If the slaveholder, then, should adopt such an argument, his logic would be very justly chargeable by Dr. Wayland with evidencing not so much the existence of a clear head as of a bad heart.

In the second place, the above argument overlooks the fact that the Southern statesman vindicates the institution of slavery on the ground that it finds the Negro race already so degraded as to unfit it for a state of freedom. He does not argue that it is right to seize those who, by the possession of cultivated intellects and pure morals, are fit for freedom, and debase them in order to prepare them for social bondage. He does not imagine that it is ever right to shoot, burn, or corrupt, in order to reduce any portion of the enlightened universe to a state of servitude. He merely insists that those only who are already unfit for a higher and nobler state than one of slavery, should be held by society in such a state. This position, although it is so prominently set forth by every advocate of slavery at the South, is almost invariably overlooked by the Northern abolitionists. They talk, and reason, and declaim, indeed, just as if we had caught a bevy of black angels as they were winging their way to some island of purity and bliss here upon earth, and reduced them from their heavenly state, by the most diabolical cruelties and oppressions, to one of degradation, misery, and servitude. They forget that Africa is not yet a paradise, and that Southern servitude is not quite a hell. They forget—in the heat and haste of their argument they forget—that the institution of slavery is designed by the South not for the enlightened and the free, but only for the ignorant and the debased. They need to be constantly reminded that the institution of slavery is not the mother, but the daughter, of ignorance and degradation. It is, indeed, the legitimate offspring of that intellectual and moral debasement which, for so many thousand years, has been accumulating and growing upon the African race. And if the abolitionists at the North will only invent some method by which all this frightful mass of degradation may be blotted out at once, then will we most cheerfully consent to "the immediate abolition of slavery." On this point, however, we need not dwell, as we shall have occasion to recur to it again when we come to consider the grounds and reasons on which the institution of slavery is vindicated.

Having argued that the right of slavery, if it exist, implies the right to shoot and murder an enlightened neighbor, with a view to reduce his wife and children to a state of servitude, as well as to crush their intellectual and moral nature in order to keep them in such a state, the author adds, "If I err in making these inferences, I err innocently." We have no doubt of the most perfect and entire innocence of the author. But we would remind him that innocence, however perfect or childlike, is not the only quality which a great reformer should possess.

Sec. IV. The fourth fallacy of the abolitionist.

He is often guilty of a petitio principii, in taking it for granted that the institution of slavery is an injury to the slave, which is the very point in dispute. Thus says Dr. Wayland: "If it be asked when, [slavery must be abandoned,] I ask again, when shall a man begin to cease doing wrong? Is not the answer immediately? If a man is injuring us, do we doubt as to the time when he ought to cease? There is, then, no doubt in respect to the time when we ought to cease inflicting injury upon others."[143] Here it is assumed that slavery is an injury to the slave: but this is the very point which is denied, and which he should have discussed. If a state of slavery be a greater injury to the slave than a state of freedom would be, then are we willing to admit that it should be abolished. But even in that case, not immediately, unless it could be shown that the remedy would not be worse than the evil. If, on the whole, the institution of slavery be a curse to the slave, we say let it be abolished; not suddenly, however, as if by a whirlwind, but by the counsels of wise, cautious, and far-seeing statesmen, who, capable of looking both before and after, can comprehend in their plans of reform all the diversified and highly-complicated interests of society.

"But it may be said," continues the author, "immediate abolition would be the greatest possible injury to the slaves themselves. They are not competent to self-government." True: this is the very thing which may be, and which is, said by every Southern statesman in his advocacy of the institution of slavery. Let us see the author's reply. "This is a question of fact," says he, "which is not in the province of moral philosophy to decide. It very likely may be so. So far as I know, the facts are not sufficiently known to warrant a full opinion on the subject. We will, therefore, suppose it to be the case, and ask, What is the duty of masters under these circumstances?" In the discussion of this question, the author comes to the conclusion that a master may hold his slaves in bondage, provided his intentions be good, and with a view to set them at liberty as soon as they shall be qualified for such a state.

Moral philosophy, then, it seems, when it closes its eyes upon facts, pronounces that slavery should be immediately abolished; but if it consider facts, which, instead of being denied, are admitted to be "very likely" true, it decides against its immediate abolition! Or, rather, moral philosophy looks at the fact that slavery is an injury, in order to see that it should be forthwith abolished; but closes its eyes upon the fact that its abolition may be a still greater injury, lest this foregone conclusion should be called in question! Has moral philosophy, then, an eye only for the facts which lie one side of the question it proposes to decide?

Slavery is an injury, says Dr. Wayland, and therefore it should be immediately abolished. But its abolition would be a still greater injury, replies the objector. This may be true, says Dr. Wayland: it is highly probable; but then this question of injury is one of fact, which it is not in the province of moral philosophy to decide! So much for the consistency and even-handed justice of the author.

The position assumed by him, that questions of fact are not within the province of moral philosophy, is one of so great importance that it deserves a separate and distinct notice. Though seldom openly avowed, yet is it so often tacitly assumed in the arguments and declamations of abolitionists, that it shall be more fully considered in the following section.

Sec. V. The fifth fallacy of the abolitionist.

"Suppose that A has a right to use the body of B according to his—that is, A's—will. Now if this be true, it is true universally; and hence, A has the control over the body of B, and B has control over the body of C, C of D, &c., and Z again over the body of A: that is, every separate will has the right of control over some other body besides its own, and has no right of control over its own body or intellect."[144] Now, if men were cut out of pasteboard, all exactly alike, and distinguished from each other only by the letters of the alphabet, then the reasoning of the author would be excellent. But it happens that men are not cut out of pasteboard. They are distinguished by differences of character, by diverse habits and propensities, which render the reasonings of the political philosopher rather more difficult than if he had merely to deal with or arrange the letters of the alphabet. In one, for example, the intellectual and moral part is almost wholly eclipsed by the brute; while, in another, reason and religion have gained the ascendency, so as to maintain a steady empire over the whole man. The first, as the author himself admits, is incompetent to self-government, and should, therefore, be held by the law of society in a state of servitude. But does it follow that "if this be true, it is true universally?" Because one man who can not govern himself may be governed by another, does it follow that every man should be governed by others? Does it follow that the one who has acquired and maintained the most perfect self-government, should be subjected to the control of him who is wholly incompetent to control himself? Yes, certainly, if the reasoning of Dr. Wayland be true; but, according to every sound principle of political ethics, the answer is, emphatically, No!

There is a difference between a Hottentot and a Newton. The first should no more be condemned to astronomical calculations and discoveries, than the last should be required to follow a plough. Such differences, however, are overlooked by much of the reasoning of the abolitionist. In regard to the question of fact, whether a man is really a man and not a mere thing, he is profoundly versed. He can discourse most eloquently upon this subject: he can prove, by most irrefragable arguments, that a Hottentot is a man as well as a Newton. But as to the differences among men, such nice distinctions are beneath his philosophy! It is true that one may be sunk so low in the scale of being that civil freedom would be a curse to him; yet, whether this be so or not, is a question of fact which his philosophy does not stoop to decide. He merely wishes to know what rights A can possibly have, either by the law of God or man, which do not equally belong to B? And if A would feel it an injury to be placed under the control of B, then, "there is no doubt" that it is equally wrong to place B under the control of A? In plain English, if it would be injurious and wrong to subject a Newton to the will of a Hottentot, then it would be equally injurious and wrong to subject a Hottentot to the will of a Newton! Such is the inevitable consequence of his very profound political principles! Nay, such is the identical consequence which he draws from his own principles!

If questions of fact are not within the province of the moral philosopher, then the moral philosopher has no business with the science of political ethics. This is not a pure, it is a mixed science. Facts can no more be overlooked by the political architect, than magnitude can be disregarded by the mathematician. The man, the political dreamer, who pays no attention to them, may be fit, for aught we know, to frame a government out of moonshine for the inhabitants of Utopia; but, if we might choose our own teachers in political wisdom, we should decidedly prefer those who have an eye for facts as well as abstractions. If we may borrow a figure from Mr. Macaulay, the legislator who sees no difference among men, but proposes the same kind of government for all, acts about as wisely as a tailor who should measure the Apollo Belvidere to cut clothes for all his customers—for the pigmies as well as for the giants.

Sec. VI. The sixth fallacy of the abolitionist.

It is asserted by Dr. Wayland that the institution of slavery is condemned as "a violation of the plainest dictates of natural justice," by "the natural conscience of man, from at least as far back as the time of Aristotle." If any one should infer that Aristotle himself condemned the institution of slavery, he would be grossly deceived; for it is known to every one who has read the Politics of Aristotle that he is, under certain circumstances, a strenuous advocate of the natural justice, as well as of the political wisdom, of slavery. Hence we shall suppose that Dr. Wayland does not mean to include Aristotle in his broad assertion, but only those who came after him. Even in this sense, or to this extent, his positive assertion is so diametrically opposed to the plainest facts of history, that it is difficult to conceive how he could have persuaded himself of its truth. It is certain that, on other occasions, he was perfectly aware of the fact that the natural conscience of man, from the time of Aristotle down to that of the Christian era, was in favor of the institution of slavery; for as often as it has served his purpose to assert this fact, he has not hesitated to do so. Thus, "the universal existence of slavery at the time of Christ," says he, "took its origin from the moral darkness of the age. The immortality of the soul was unknown. Out of the Hebrew nation not a man on earth had any true conception of the character of the Deity or of our relations and obligations to him. The law of universal love to man had never been heard of."[145] No wonder he here argues that slavery received the universal sanction of the heathen world, since so great was the moral darkness in which they were involved. This darkness was so great, if we may believe the author, that the men of one nation esteemed those of another "as by nature foes, whom they had a right" not only "to subdue or enslave," but also to murder "whenever and in what manner soever they were able."[146] The sweeping assertion, that such was the moral darkness of the heathen world, is wide of the truth; for, at the time of Christ, no civilized nation "esteemed it right to murder or enslave, whenever and in what manner soever they were able," the people of other nations. There were some ideas of natural justice, even then, among men; and if there were not, why does Dr. Wayland appeal to their ideas of natural justice as one argument against slavery? If the heathen world "esteemed it right" to make slaves, how can it be said that its conscience condemned slavery? Is it not evident that Dr. Wayland is capable of asserting either the one thing or its opposite, just as it may happen to serve the purpose of his anti-slavery argument? Whether facts lie within the province of moral philosophy or not, it is certain, we think, that the moral philosopher who may be pleased to set facts at naught has no right to substitute fictions in their stead.

Sec. VII. The seventh fallacy of the abolitionist.

"Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself," is the rule of action which, in the estimation of abolitionists, should at once and forever decide every good man against the institution of slavery. But when we consider the stupendous interests involved in the question, and especially those of an intellectual and moral nature, we dare not permit ourselves to be carried away by any form of mere words. We must pause and investigate. The fact that the dexterous brandishing of the beautiful precept in question has made, and will no doubt continue to make, its thousands of converts or victims, is a reason why its real import should be the more closely examined and the more clearly defined. The havoc it makes among those whose philanthropy is stronger than their judgment—or, if you please, whose judgment is weaker than their philanthropy—flows not from the divine precept itself, but only from human interpretations thereof. And it should ever be borne in mind that he is the real enemy of the great cause of philanthropy who, by absurd or overstrained applications of this sublime precept, lessens that profound respect to which it is so justly entitled from every portion of the rational universe.

It is repeatedly affirmed by Dr. Wayland that every slaveholder lives in the habitual and open violation of the precept which requires us to love our neighbor as ourselves. "The moral precepts of the Bible," says he, "are diametrically opposed to slavery. These are, 'Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself,' and 'All things whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them.' Now, were this precept obeyed," he continues, "it is manifest that slavery could not in fact exist for a single instant. The principle of the precept is absolutely subversive of the principle of slavery." If strong assertion were argument, we should no doubt be overwhelmed by the irresistible logic of Dr. Wayland. But the assertion of no man can be accepted as sound argument. We want to know the very meaning of the words of the great Teacher, and to be guided by that, rather than by the fallible authority of an earthly oracle. What, then, is the meaning, the real meaning, of his inspired words?

Do they mean that whatsoever we might, in any relation of life, desire for ourselves, we should be willing to grant to others in the like relation or condition? This interpretation, we are aware, has been put upon the words by a very celebrated divine. If we may believe that divine, we cannot do as we would be done by, unless, when we desire the estate of another, we forthwith transfer our estate to him! If a poor man, for example, should happen to covet the estate of his rich neighbor, then he is bound by this golden rule of benevolence to give his little all to him, without regard to the necessities or wants of his own family! But this interpretation, though seriously propounded by a man of undoubted genius and piety, has not, so far as we know, made the slightest possible impression on the plain good sense of mankind. Even among his most enthusiastic admirers, it has merely excited a good-natured smile at what they could not but regard as the strange hallucination of a benevolent heart.

A wrong desire in one relation of life is not a reason for a wrong act in another relation thereof. A man may desire the estate, he may desire the man-servant, or the maid-servant, or the wife of his neighbor, but this is no reason why he should abandon his own man-servant, or his maid-servant, or his wife to the will of another. The criminal who trembles at the bar of justice may desire both judge and jury to acquit him, but this is no reason why, if acting in the capacity of either judge or juror, he should bring in a verdict of acquittal in favor of one justly accused of crime. If we would apply the rule in question aright, we should consider, not what we might wish or desire if placed in the situation of another, but what we ought to wish or desire.

If a man were a child, he might wish to be exempt from the wholesome restraint of his parents; but this, as every one will admit, is no reason why he should abandon his own children to themselves. In like manner, if he were a slave, he might most vehemently desire freedom; but this is no reason why he should set his slaves at liberty. The whole question of right turns upon what he ought to wish or desire if placed in such a condition. If he were an intelligent, cultivated, civilized man,—in one word, if he were fit for freedom,—then his desire for liberty would be a rational desire, would be such a feeling as he ought to cherish; and hence, he should be willing to extend the same blessing to all other intelligent, cultivated, civilized men, to all such as are prepared for its enjoyment. Such is the sentiment which he should entertain, and such is precisely the sentiment entertained at the South. No one here proposes to reduce any one to slavery, much less those who are qualified for freedom; and hence the inquiry so often propounded by Dr. Wayland and other abolitionists, how we would like to be subjected to bondage, is a grand impertinence. We should like it as little as themselves; and in this respect we shall do as we would be done by.

But suppose we were veritable slaves—slaves in character and in disposition as well as in fact—and as unfit for freedom as the Africans of the South—what ought we then to wish or desire? Ought we to desire freedom? We answer, no; because on that supposition freedom would be a curse and not a blessing. Dr. Wayland himself admits that "it is very likely" freedom would be "the greatest possible injury" to the slaves of the South. Hence, we cannot perceive that if we were such as they, we ought to desire so great an evil to ourselves. It would indeed be to desire "the greatest possible injury" to ourselves; and though, as ignorant and blind slaves, we might cherish so foolish a desire, especially if instigated by abolitionists, yet this is no reason why, as enlightened citizens, we should be willing to inflict the same great evil upon others. A foolish desire, we repeat, in one relation of life, is not a good reason for a foolish or injurious act in another relation thereof.