Chapter IV: The Argument From the Public Good (1)

The Question--Emancipation in the British
Colonies--The manner in which Emancipation has
ruined the British Colonies--The great benefit
supposed, by American Abolitionists, to result to
the freed Negroes from the British Act of
Emancipation--The Consequences of Abolition to the
South--Elevation of the Blacks by Southern
Slavery.

WE have not shunned the abstractions of the abolitionist. We have, on the contrary, examined all his arguments, even the most abstract, and endeavored to show that they either rest on false assumptions, or consist in false deductions. While engaged in this analysis of his errors, we have more than once had occasion to remind him that the great practical problem of slavery is to be determined, if determined at all, not by an appeal to abstractions, but simply by a consideration of the public good. It is under this point of view, or with reference to the highest good of the governed, that we now proceed to consider the institution of slavery.

The way is open and clear for this view of the subject. For we have seen, we trust, that slavery is condemned neither by any principle of natural justice, nor by any precept of divine revelation. On the other hand, if we mistake not, it has been most clearly shown that the doctrines and practices of the abolitionist are at war with the most explicit words of God, as well as with the most unquestionable principles of political ethics. Hence, without the least disrespect to the eternal principles of right, we may now proceed to subject his doctrines to the only remaining test of political truth, namely, _to the test of experience_. Having examined the internal qualities of the tree and found them bad, we may now proceed to inquire if "its fruits" be not poison. And if the sober lessons of history, if the infallible records of experience, be found in perfect harmony with the conclusions of reason and of revelation, then shall we not be triply justified in pronouncing abolitionism a social and a moral curse?

§ I. _The Question._

Here, at the outset, we may throw aside a mass of useless verbiage, with which our inquiry is usually encumbered. We are eternally told that Kentucky has fallen behind Ohio, and Virginia behind Pennsylvania, because their energies have been crippled, and their prosperity over-clouded, by the institution of slavery. Now, it is of no importance to our argument that we should either deny the fact, or the explanation which is given of it by abolitionists. If the question were, whether slavery should be introduced among us, or into any non-slaveholding State, then such facts and explanations would be worthy of our notice. Then such an appeal to experience would be relevant to the point in dispute. But such is not the question. We are not called upon to decide whether slavery shall be established in our midst or not. This question has been decided for us. Slavery--as every body knows--was forced upon the colonies by the arbitrary and despotic rule of Great Britain, and that, too, against the earnest remonstrances of our ancestors. The thing has been done. The past is beyond our control. It is fixed and unalterable. The only inquiry which remains for us now is, whether the slavery which was thus forced upon our ancestors shall be continued, or whether it shall be abolished? The question is not what Virginia, or Kentucky, or any other slave State, _might_ have been, but what they would be in case slavery were abolished. If abolitionists would speak to the point, then let them show us some country in which slavery has been abolished, and we will abide by the experiment. Fortunately for us, we need not look far for such an experiment;--an experiment which has been made, not upon mere chattels or brutes, but upon the social and moral well-being of more than a million of human beings. We refer, of course, to the emancipation of the slaves in the British colonies. This work, as every one knows, was the great vaunted achievement of British abolitionists. Here, then, we may see their philosophy--if philosophy it may be called--"teaching by example." Here we may see and taste the fruits of abolitionism, ere we conclude to grow them upon our own soil.

§ II. _Emancipation in the British Colonies._

It is scarcely in the power of human language to describe the enthusiastic delight with which the abolitionists, both in England and in America, were inspired by the spectacle of West India Emancipation. We might easily adduce a hundred illustrations of the almost frantic joy with which it intoxicated their brains. We shall, however, for the sake of brevity, confine our attention to a single example,--which will, at the same time, serve to show, not only how wild the abolitionist himself was, but also how indignant he became that others were not equally disposed to part with their sober senses. "The prevalent state of feeling," said Dr. Channing in 1840, "in the free States in regard to slavery is indifference--an indifference strengthened by the notion of great difficulties attending the subject. The fact is painful, but the truth should be spoken. The majority of the people, even yet, care little about the matter. A painful proof of this insensibility was furnished about a year and a half ago, when the English West Indies were emancipated. An event surpassing this in moral grandeur is not recorded in history. In one day, probably seven hundred thousand of human beings were rescued from bondage to full, unqualified freedom. The consciousness of wrongs, in so many breasts, was exchanged into rapturous, grateful joy. What shouts of thanksgiving broke forth from those liberated crowds! What new sanctity and strength were added to the domestic ties! What new hopes opened on future generations! The crowning glory of this day was the fact that the work of emancipation was wholly due to the principles of Christianity. The West Indies were freed, not by force, or human policy, but by the reverence of a great people for justice and humanity. The men who began and carried on this cause were Christian philanthropists; and they prevailed by spreading their own spirit through a nation. In this respect, the emancipation of the West Indies was a grander work than the redemption of the Israelites from bondage. This was accomplished by force, by outward miracles, by the violence of the elements. That was achieved by love, by moral power, by God, working, not in the stormy seas, but in the depths of the human heart. And how was this day of emancipation--one of the most blessed days that ever dawned upon the earth--received in this country? While in distant England a thrill of gratitude and joy pervaded thousands and millions, we, the neighbors of the West Indies, and who boast of our love of liberty, saw the sun of that day rise and set with hardly a thought of the scenes on which it was pouring its joyful light. The greater part of our newspapers did not refer to the event. The great majority of the people had forgotten it. Such was the testimony we gave to our concern for the poor slave; and is it from discussions of slavery among such a people that the country is to be overturned?"

Such were the glowing expectations of the abolitionists. It now remains to be seen whether they were true prophets, or merely "blind leaders of the blind." Be that as it may, for the present we cannot agree with Dr. Channing, that the good people of the free States were insincere in boasting of their "love of liberty," because they did not go into raptures over so fearful an experiment before they had some little time to see how it would work. They did, no doubt, most truly and profoundly love liberty. But then they had some reason to suspect, perhaps, that liberty may be one thing, and abolitionism quite another. Liberty, they knew, was a thing of light and love; but as for abolitionism, it was, for all they knew, a demon of destruction. Hence they would wait, and see. We do well to rejoice at once, exclaims Dr. Channing. If a man-child is born into the world, says he, do we wait to read his future life ere we rejoice at his birth? Ah, no! But then, perhaps, this offspring of abolitionism is no man-child at all. It may, for aught we know, be an abortion of night and darkness merely. Hence, we shall wait, and mark his future course, ere we rend the air with shouts that he is born at last.

This man-child, or this monster, is now seventeen years and four months old. His character is developed, and fixed for life. We may now read his history, written by impartial men, and determine for ourselves, whether it justifies the bright and boundless hopes of the abolitionists, or the "cold indifference," nay, the suspicions and the fears, of the good people of the free States.

We shall begin with Jamaica, which is by far the largest and most valuable of the British West Indies. The very first year after the complete emancipation of the slaves of this island, its prosperity began to manifest symptoms of decay. As long as it was possible, however, to find or invent an explanation of these fearful signs, the abolitionists remained absolutely blind to the real course of events. In 1839, the first year of complete emancipation, it appeared that the crop of sugar exported from the island had fallen off no less than eight thousand four hundred and sixty-six hogsheads. But, then, it was discovered that the hogsheads had been larger this year than the preceding! It is true, there was not exactly any proof that larger hogsheads had been used all over the island, but it was rumored; and the rumor was, of course, eagerly swallowed by the abolitionists.

And besides, it was quite certain that the free negroes had eaten more sugar than while they were slaves, which helped mightily to account for the great diminution in the exports of the article. No one could deny this. It is certain, that if the free negroes only devoured sugar as eagerly as such floating conjectures were gulped down by the abolitionists, the whole phenomenon needed no other cause for its perfect explanation. It never once occured, however, to these reasoners to imagine that the decrease in the amount of rum exported from another island _might_ be owing to the circumstance that the free blacks had swallowed a little more of that article as well as of sugar. On the contrary, this fact was held up as a most conclusive and triumphant proof that the free negroes had not only become temperate themselves, but also so virtuous that they scorned to produce such an article to poison their fellow-men. The English abolitionists who rejoiced at such a reflection were, it must be confessed, standing on rather delicate ground. For if such an inference proved any thing, it proved that the blacks of the island in question had, at one single bound, passed from the depths of degradation to an exaltation of virtue far above their emancipators, the English people themselves; since these, as every reader of history knows, not only enforced the culture of opium in India, but also absolutely compelled the poor Chinese to receive it at the mouth of the cannon!

It also appears that, for 1839, the amount of coffee exported had fallen off 38,554 cwt., or about one third of the whole amount of the preceding year. "The coffee is a very uncertain crop," said a noted English emancipationist, in view of this startling fact, "and the deficiency, on the comparison of these two years, is not greater, I believe, than has often occurred before." This is true, for a drought or a hurricane had before created quite as great a deficiency. But while the fact is true, it only proves that the first year of emancipation was no worse on the coffee crop than a drought or a hurricane.

"We should also remember," says this zealous abolitionist, "that, both in sugar and coffee, the profit to the planter may be increased by the saving of expense, even where the produce is diminished." Such a thing, we admit, is possible; it _may_ be true. But _in point of fact_, as we shall soon see, the expense was increased, while the crop was diminished.

But after every possible explanation, even Dr. Channing and Mr. Gurney were bound to admit "that some decrease has taken place in both the articles, in connection with the change of system." They also admitted that "so far as this decrease of produce is connected with the change of system, _it is obviously to be traced to a corresponding decrease in the quantity of labor_."

May we not suppose, then, that here the ingenuity of man is at an end, and the truth begins to be allowed to make its appearance? By no means. For here "comes the critical question,"--says Mr. Gurney, "the real turning point. To what is this decrease in the quantity of labor owing? I answer deliberately but without reserve, '_Mainly_ to causes which class under slavery and not under freedom.' It is, for the most part, the result of those impolitic attempts to force the labor of freemen which have disgusted the peasantry, and have led to the desertion of many of the estates."

Now suppose this were the case, is it not the business, is it not the duty, of the legislator to consider the passions, the prejudices, and the habits of those for whom he legislates? Indeed, if he overlook these, is he not a reckless experimenter rather than a wise statesman? If he legislates, not for man as he _is_, but for man as he _ought to be_, is he not a political dreamer rather than a sound philosopher?

The abolitionist not only closed his eyes on every appearance of decline in the prosperity of the West Indies, he also seized with avidity every indication of the successful operation of his scheme, and magnified it both to himself and to the world. He made haste, in particular, to paint in the most glowing colors the rising prosperity of Jamaica.[175] His narrative was hailed with eager delight by abolitionists in all parts of the civilized world. It is a pity, we admit, to spoil so fine a story, or to put a damper on so much enthusiasm. But the truth, especially in a case like the present, should be told. While, then, to the enchanted imagination of the abolitionist, the wonderful industry of the freed negroes and the exuberant bounty of nature were concurring to bring about a paradise in the island of Jamaica, the dark stream of emancipation was, in reality, undermining its prosperity and glory. We shall now proceed to adduce the evidence of this melancholy fact, which has in a few short years become so abundant and so overwhelming, that even the most blind and obstinate must feel its force.

After describing the immense sources of wealth to be found in Jamaica, an intelligent eye-witness says: "Such are some of the natural resources of this dilapidated and poverty-stricken country. Capable as it is of producing almost every thing, and actually producing nothing which might not become a staple with a proper application of capital and skill, its inhabitants are miserably poor, and daily sinking deeper into the utter helplessness of abject want.

"'Magnas inter opes inops.'

"Shipping has deserted her ports; her magnificent plantations of sugar and coffee are running to weeds; her private dwellings are falling to decay; the comforts and luxuries which belong to industrial prosperity have been cut off, one by one, from her inhabitants; and the day, I think, is at hand when there will be none left to represent the wealth, intelligence, and hospitality for which the Jamaica planter was once distinguished."[176]

"It is impossible," says Mr. Carey, "to read Mr. Bigelow's volume, without arriving at the conclusion that the freedom granted to the negro has had little effect except that of enabling him to live at the expense of the planter so long as any thing remained. Sixteen years of freedom did not appear to its author to have 'advanced the dignity of labor or of the laboring classes one particle,' while it had ruined the proprietors of the land, and thus great damage had been done to the one class without benefit of any kind to the other.

From a statistical table, published in August, 1853, it appears, says one of our northern journals, that, since 1846, "the number of sugar estates on the island that have been totally abandoned amounts to one hundred and sixty-eight, and the number partially abandoned to sixty-three; the value of which two hundred and thirty-one estates was assessed, in 1841, at £1,655,140, or nearly eight millions and a half of dollars. Within the same period two hundred and twenty-three coffee-plantations have been totally, and twenty partially, abandoned, the assessed value of which was, in 1841, £500,000, or two millions and a half of dollars; and of cattle-pens, (grazing farms,) one hundred and twenty-two have been totally, and ten partially, abandoned, the value of which was a million and a half of dollars. The aggregate value of these six hundred and six estates, which have been thus ruined and abandoned in the island of Jamaica, within the last seven or eight years, amounted by the regular assessments, ten years since, to the sum of nearly two and a half millions of pounds sterling, or twelve and a half millions of dollars."[177]

In relation to Jamaica, another witness says: "The marks of decay abound. Neglected fields, crumbling houses, fragmentary fences, noiseless machinery--these are common sights, and soon become familiar to observation. I sometimes rode for miles in succession over fertile ground, which used to be cultivated, and which is now lying waste. So rapidly has cultivation retrograded, and the wild luxuriance of nature replaced the conveniences of art, that parties still inhabiting these desolated districts have sometimes, in the strong language of a speaker at Kingston, 'to seek about the bush to find the entrance into their houses.'

"The towns present a spectacle no less gloomy. A great part of Kingston was destroyed, some years ago, by an extensive conflagration: yet multitudes of the houses which escaped that visitation are standing empty, though the population is little, if at all, diminished. The explanation is obvious. Persons who have nothing, and can no longer keep up their domestic establishments, take refuge in the abodes of others, where some means of subsistence are still left; and in the absence of any discernible trade or occupation, the lives of crowded thousands appear to be preserved from day to day by a species of miracle. The most busy thoroughfares of former times have now almost the quietude of a Sabbath.

"'The finest land in the world,' says Mr. Bigelow, 'may be had at any price, and almost for the asking.' Labor 'receives no compensation, and the product of labor does not seem to know how to find the way to market.'"[178]

From the report made in 1849, and signed by various missionaries, the moral and religious state of the island appears no less gloomy than its scenes of poverty and distress. The following extract from that report we copy from Mr. Carey's "Slave Trade, Domestic and Foreign:"--

"Missionary efforts in Jamaica are beset at the present time with many and great discouragements. Societies at home have withdrawn or diminished the amount of assistance afforded by them to chapels and schools throughout this island. The prostrate condition of its agriculture and commerce disables its own population from doing as much as formerly for maintaining the worship of God and the tuition of the young, and induces numbers of negro laborers to retire from estates which have been thrown up, to seek the means of subsistence in the mountains, where they are removed in general from moral training and superintendence. The consequences of this state of matters are very disastrous. Not a few missionaries and teachers--often struggling with difficulties which they could not overcome--have returned to Europe, and others are preparing to follow them. Chapels and schools are abandoned, or they have passed into the hands of very incompetent instructors."

We cannot dwell upon each of the West India Islands. Some of these have not suffered so much as others; but while some, from well-known causes, have been partially exempt from the evils of emancipation, all have suffered to a fearful extent. This, as we shall now show, is most amply established by English authorities.

Mr. Bigelow, whose "Notes on Jamaica in 1850" we have noticed, is an American writer; a Northern man; and, it is said, by no means a friend to the institution of slavery. It is certain that Mr. Robert Baird, from whom we shall now quote, is not only a subject of Great Britain, but also a most enthusiastic advocate of "the glorious Act of British Emancipation." But although he admires that act, yet, on visiting the West Indies for his health, he could not fail to be struck with the appalling scenes of distress there exhibited. In describing these, his object is not to reflect shame on the misguided philanthropy of Great Britain; but only to urge the adoption of other measures, in order to rescue the West Indies from the utter ruin and desolation which must otherwise soon overtake them. We might easily adduce many impressive extracts from his work; but, for the sake of brevity, we shall confine our attention to one or two passages.

"Hope," says Mr. Baird, "delights to brighten the prospects of the future; and thus it is that the British West Indian planter goes on from year to year, struggling against his downward progress, and still hoping that something may yet turn up to retrieve his ruined fortunes. But all do not struggle on. Many have given in, and many more can and will confirm the statement of a venerable friend of my own--a gentleman high in office in one of the islands above-mentioned--who, when showing me his own estate and sugar-works, assured me, that for above a quarter of a century they had yielded him nearly £2000 per annum; and that now, despite all his efforts and improvements, (which were many,) he could scarcely manage to make the cultivation pay itself. Instances of this kind might be multiplied till the reader was tired, and even heart-sick, of such details. But what need of such? Is it not notorious? Has it not been proved by the numerous failures that have taken place of late years among our most extensive West Indian merchants? Are not the reports of almost all the governors of our colonial possessions filled with statements to the effect that great depreciation of property has taken place in all and each of our West Indian colonies, and that great has been the distress consequent thereupon? These governors are, of course, all of them imbued, to some extent, with the ministerial policy--at least it is reasonable to assume that they are so. At all events, whether they are so or not, their position almost necessitates their doing their utmost to carry out, with success, the ministerial views and general policy. To embody the substance of the answer given by a talented lieutenant-governor, in my own hearing, to an address which set forth, somewhat strongly, the ruined prospects and wasted fortunes of the colonists under his government: 'It must, or it ought to be, the object and the desire of every governor or lieutenant-governor in the British West Indian Islands, to disappoint and stultify, if he can, the prognostications of coming ruin with which the addresses he receives from time to time are continually charged?' Yet what say these governors? Do not the reports of one and all of them confirm the above statement as to the deplorable state of distress to which the West Indian planters in the British colonies are reduced?"[179]

Again, he says: "That the British West Indian colonists have been loudly complaining that they are ruined, is a fact so generally acknowledged, that the very loudness and frequency of the complaint has been made a reason for disregarding or undervaluing the grounds of it. That the West Indians are always grumbling is an observation often heard; and, no doubt, it is very true that they are so. But let any one who thinks that the extent and clamor of the complaint exceeds the magnitude of the distress which has called it forth, go to the West Indies and judge for himself. Let him see with his own eyes the neglected and abandoned estates,--the uncultivated fields, fast hurrying back into a state of nature, with all the speed of tropical luxuriance--the dismantled and silent machinery, the crumbling walls, and deserted mansions, which are familiar sights in most of the British West Indian colonies. Let him, then, transport himself to the Spanish islands of Porto Rico and Cuba, and witness the life and activity which in these slave colonies prevail. Let him observe for himself the activity of the slavers--the improvements daily making in the cultivation of the fields and in the processes carried on at the Ingenios or sugar-mills--and _the general indescribable air of thriving and prosperity which surrounds the whole_,--and then let him come back to England and say, if he honestly can, that the British West Indian planters and proprietors are grumblers, who complain without adequate cause."[180]

Great Britain has shown no little solicitude to ascertain the real state of things in her West India colonies. For this purpose, she appointed, in 1842, a select committee, consisting of some of the most prominent members of Parliament, with Lord Stanley at their head. In 1848, another committee was appointed by her, with Lord George Bentinck as its chairman, to inquire into the condition of her Majesty's East and West India possessions and the Mauritius, and to consider whether any measures could be adopted for their relief. The report of both committees show, beyond all doubt, that unexampled distress existed in the colonies. The report of 1848 declares: "That many estates in the British West India colonies have been already abandoned, that many more are in the course of abandonment, and that from this cause a very serious diminution is to be apprehended in the total amount of production. That the first effect of this diminution will be an increase in the price of sugar, and the ultimate effect a greater extension to the growth of sugar in slave countries, and a greater impetus to slavery and the slave-trade." From the same report, we also learn that the prosperity of the Mauritius, no less than that of the West India Islands, had suffered a fearful blight, in consequence of the "glorious act of emancipation."

A third commission was appointed, in 1850, to inquire into the condition and prospects of British Guiana. Lord Stanley, in his second letter to Mr. Gladstone, the Secretary of the British colonies, has furnished us with the following extracts from the report of this committee:--

"Of Guiana generally they say--'It would be but a melancholy task to dwell upon the misery and ruin which so alarming a change must have occasioned to the proprietary body; but your commissioners feel themselves called upon to notice the effects which this wholsale abandonment of property has produced upon the colony at large. Where whole districts are fast relapsing into bush, and occasional patches of provisions around the huts of village settlers are all that remain to tell of once flourishing estates, it is not to be wondered at that the most ordinary marks of civilization are rapidly disappearing, and that in many districts of the colony all travelling communication by land will soon become utterly impracticable.'

"Of the Abary district:--'Your commission find that the line of road is nearly impassable, and that a long succession of formerly cultivated estates presents now a series of pestilent swamps, overrun with bush, and productive of malignant fevers.'

"Nor are matters," says Lord Stanley, "much better further south.

"'Proceeding still lower down, your commissioners find that the public roads and bridges are in such a condition that the few estates still remaining on the upper west bank of Mahaica Creek are completely cut off, save in the very dry season; and that with regard to the whole district, unless something be done very shortly, travelling by land will entirely cease. In such a state of things it cannot be wondered at that the herdsman has a formidable enemy to encounter in the jaguar and other beasts of prey, and that the keeping of cattle is attended with considerable loss from the depredations committed by these animals.'

"It may be worth noticing," continues Lord Stanley, "that this district--now overrun with wild beasts of the forest--was formerly the very garden of the colony. The estates touched one another along the whole line of the road, leaving no interval of uncleared land.

"The east coast, which is next mentioned by the commissioners, is better off. Properties, once of immense value, had there been bought at nominal prices; and the one railroad of Guiana passing through that tract, a comparatively industrious population--composed of former laborers on the line--enabled the planters still to work these to some profit. Even of this favored spot, however, they report that it 'feels most severely the want of continuous labor.'

"The commissioners next visit the east bank of the Demerara River, thus described:--

"'Proceeding up the east bank of the river Demerara, the generally prevailing features of ruin and distress are everywhere perceptible. Roads and bridges almost impassable are fearfully significant exponents of the condition of the plantations which they traverse; and Canal No. 3, once covered with plantains and coffee, presents now a scene of almost total desolation.'

"Crossing to the west side, they find prospects somewhat brighter: 'A few estates, are still 'keeping up a cultivation worthy of better times.' But this prosperous neighborhood is not extensive, and the next picture presented to our notice is less agreeable:--

"'Ascending the river still higher, your commissioners learn that the district between Hobaboe Creek and "Stricken Heuvel" contained, in 1829, eight sugar and five coffee and plantain estates, and now there remain but three in sugar, and four partially cultivated with plantains, by petty settlers; while the roads, with one or two exceptions, are in a state of utter abandonment. Here, as on the opposite bank of the river, hordes of squatters have located themselves, who avoid all communication with Europeans, and have seemingly given themselves up altogether to the rude pleasures of a completely savage life.'

"The west coast of Demerara--the only part of the country which still remains unvisited--is described as showing _only_ a diminution of fifty per cent. upon its produce of sugar; and with this fact the evidence concludes as to one of the three sections into which the colony is divided. Does Demerara stand alone in its misfortunes?

"Again hear the report:--'If the present state of the county of Demerara affords cause for deep apprehension, your commissioners find that Essequibo has retrograded to a still more alarming extent. In fact, unless a large and speedy supply of labor be obtained to cultivate the deserted fields of this once flourishing district, there is great reason to fear that it will relapse into total abandonment.'

"Describing another portion of the colony--they say of one district, 'Unless a fresh supply of labor be very soon obtained, there is every reason to fear that it will become completely abandoned.' Of a second, 'speedy immigration alone can save this island from total ruin.' 'The prostrate condition of this once beautiful part of the coast,' are the words which begin another paragraph, describing another tract of country. Of a fourth, 'the proprietors on this coast seem to be keeping up a hopeless struggle against approaching ruin.' Again, 'the once famous Arabian coast, so long the boast of the colony, presents now but a mournful picture of departed prosperity. Here were formerly situated some of the finest estates in the country, and a large resident body of proprietors lived in the district, and freely expended their incomes on the spot whence they derived them.' Once more, 'the lower part of the coast, after passing Devonshire Castle, to the river Pomeroon, presents a scene of almost total desolation.' Such is Essequibo!

"Berbice," says Lord Stanley, "has fared no better. Its rural population amounts to 18,000. Of these, 12,000 have withdrawn from the estates, and mostly from the neighborhood of the white man, to enjoy a savage freedom of ignorance and idleness, beyond the reach of example and sometimes of control. But on the condition of the negro I shall dwell more at length hereafter; at present it is the state of property with which I have to do. What are the districts which together form the county of Berbice? The Corentyne coast--the Canje Creek--east and west banks of the Berbice River--and the west coast, where, however, cotton was formerly the chief article produced. To each of these respectively the following passages, quoted in order, apply:--

"'The abandoned plantations on this coast,[181] which, if capital and labor could be procured, might easily be made very productive, are either wholly deserted, or else appropriated by hordes of squatters, who of course are unable to keep up at their own expense the public roads and bridges; and consequently all communication by land between the Corentyne and New Amsterdam is nearly at an end. The roads are impassable for horses or carriages, while for foot passengers they are extremely dangerous. The number of villages in this deserted region must be upward of 2500, and as the country abounds with fish and game, they have no difficulty in making a subsistence. In fact, the Corentyne coast is fast relapsing into a state of nature.'

"'Canje Creek was formerly considered a flourishing district of the county, and numbered on its east bank seven sugar and three coffee estates, and on its west bank eight estates, of which two were in sugar and six in coffee, making a total of eighteen plantations. The coffee cultivation has long since been entirely abandoned, and of the sugar estates but eight still now remain. They are suffering severely for want of labor, and being supported principally by African and Coolie immigrants, it is much to be feared that if the latter leave and claim their return passages to India, a great part of the district will become abandoned.'

"Under present circumstances, so gloomy is the condition of affairs here,[182] that the two gentlemen whom your commissioners have examined with respect to this district, both concur in predicting "its slow but sure approximation to the condition in which civilized man first found it."'

"'A district[183] that in 1829 gave employment to 3635 registered slaves, but at the present moment there are not more than 600 laborers at work on the few estates still in cultivation, although it is estimated there are upward of 2000 people idling in villages of their own. The roads are in many parts several feet under water and perfect swamps, while in some places the bridges are wanting altogether. In fact the whole district is fast becoming a total wilderness, with the exception of the one or two estates which yet continue to struggle on, and which are hardly accessible now but by water.'

"'Except in some of the best villages,[184] they care not for back or front dams to keep off the water; their side-lines are disregarded, and consequently the drainage is gone, while in many instances the public road is so completely flooded that canoes have to be used as a means of transit. The Africans are unhappily following the example of the Creoles in this district, and buying land on which they settle in contented idleness; and your commissioners cannot view instances like these without the deepest alarm, for if this pernicious habit of squatting is allowed to extend to the immigrants also, there is no hope for the colony.'"[185]

We might fill a volume with extracts to the same effect. We might in like manner point to other regions, especially to Guatemala, to the British colony on the southern coast of Africa, and to the island of Hayti, in all of which emancipation has been followed by precisely similar results. But we must hasten to consider how it is that emancipation has wrought all this ruin and desolation. In the mean time, we shall conclude this section in the ever-memorable words of Alison, the historian: "The negroes," says he, "who, in a state of slavery, were comfortable and prosperous beyond any peasantry in the world, and rapidly approaching the condition of the most opulent serfs of Europe, _have been by the act of emancipation irretrievably consigned to a state of barbarism_."

§ III. _The manner in which emancipation has ruined the British Colonies._

By the act of emancipation, Great Britain paralyzed the right arm of her colonial industry. The laborer would not work except occasionally, and the planter was ruined. The morals of the negro disappeared with his industry, and he speedily retraced his steps toward his original barbarism. All this had been clearly foretold. "Emancipation," says Dr. Channing in 1840, "was resisted on the ground that the slave, if restored to his rights, _would fall into idleness and vagrancy, and even relapse into barbarism_."

This was predicted by the West Indian planters, who certainly had a good opportunity to know something of the character of the negro, whether bond or free. But who could suppose for a moment that an enlightened abolitionist would listen to slaveholders? His response was, that "their unhappy position as slaveholders had robbed them of their reason and blunted their moral sense." Precisely the same thing had been foretold by the Calhouns and the Clays of this country. But they, too, were unfortunately slaveholders, and, consequently, so completely "sunk in moral darkness," that their testimony was not entitled to credit. The calmest, the profoundest, the wisest statesman of Great Britain likewise forewarned the agitators of the desolation and the woes they were about to bring upon the West Indies. But the madness of the day would confide in no wisdom except its own, and listen to no testimony except to the clamor of fanatics. Hence the frightful experiment was made, and, as we have seen, the prediction of the anti-abolitionist has been fulfilled to the very letter.

The cause of this downward tendency in the British colonies is now perfectly apparent to all who have eyes to see. On this point, the two committees above referred to both concur in the same conclusion. The committee of 1842 declare, "that the principal causes of this diminished production, and consequent distress, are the great difficulty which has been experienced by the planters in obtaining _steady_ and _continuous_ labor, and the high rate of remuneration which they give for even the _broken_ and _indifferent_ work which they are able to procure."

The cry of the abolitionist has been changed. At first--even before the experiment was more than a year old--he insisted that the industry of the freed black was working wonders in the British colonies. In the West Indies, in particular, he assured us that the freed negro would do "an infinity of work for wages."[186] Though he had been on the islands, and had had an opportunity to see for himself, he boasted that "the old notion that the negro is, by constitution, a lazy creature, who will do no work at all except by compulsion, _is now forever exploded_."[187] He even declared, that the free negro "understands his interest as well as a Yankee."[188] These confident statements, made by an eye-witness, were hailed by the abolitionists as conclusive proof that the experiment was working admirably. "The great truth has come out," says Dr. Channing, "that the hopes of the most sanguine advocates of emancipation have been realized--if not surpassed--by the West Indies." What! the negro become idle, indeed! "He is more likely," says the enchanted doctor, "to fall into the civilized man's cupidity than into the filth and sloth of the savage." But all these magnificent boasts were quite premature. A few short years have sufficed to demonstrate that the deluded authors of them, who had so lamentably failed to predict the future, could not even read the present.

Their boasts are now exploded. Their former hopes are blasted; and their cry is changed. The song now is,--"Well, suppose the negroes will not work: they are FREE! They can now do as they list, and there is no man to hinder." Ah, yes! they can now, at their own sweet will, stretch themselves "under their gracefully-waving groves," and be lulled to sleep amid the sound of waterfalls and the song of birds.

Such, precisely, is the paradise for which the negro sighs, except that he does not care for the waterfalls and the birds. But it should be remarked, that when sinful man was driven from the only Paradise that earth has ever seen, he was doomed to eat his bread in the sweat of his brow. This doom he cannot reverse. Let him make of life--as the Haytien negroes do--"one long day of unprofitable ease,"[189] and he may dream of Paradise, or the abolitionists may dream for him. But while he dreams, the laws of nature are sternly at their work. Indolence benumbs his feeble intellect, and inflames his passions. Poverty and want are creeping on him. Temptation is surrounding him; and vice, with all her motley train, is winding fast her deadly coils around his very soul, and making him the devil's slave, to do his work upon the earth. Thus, the blossoms of his paradise are _fine words_, and its fruits are _death_.

"If but two hours' labor per day," says Theodore Parker, "are necessary for the support of each colored man, I know not why he should toil longer." You know not, then, why the colored man should work more than two hours a day? Neither does the colored man himself. You know not why he should have any higher or nobler aim in life than to supply his few, pressing, animal wants? Neither does he. You know not why he should think of the future, or provide for the necessities of old age? Neither does he. You know not why he should take thought for seasons of sickness? Neither does he; and hence his child often dies under his own eyes, for the want of medical attendance. You know not that the colored man, who begins with working only two hours a day, will soon end with ceasing from all regular employment, and live, in the midst of filth, by stealing or other nefarious means? In one word, you know not why the colored man should not live like the brute, in and for the present merely--blotting out all the future from his plans of life? If, indeed, you really know none of these things, then we beg you will excuse us, if _we_ do not know why you should assume to teach our senators wisdom;--if we do not know why the cobbler should not stick to his last, and all such preachers to their pulpits.[190]

Abolitionism is decidedly progressive. The time was when Dr. Channing thought that men should work, and that, if they would not labor from rational motives, they should be compelled to labor.[191] The time was, when even abolitionists looked upon labor with respect, and regarded it as merely an obedience to the very first law of nature, or merely a compliance with the very first condition of all economic, social, and moral well-being. But the times are changed. The exigencies of abolitionism now require that _manual labor, and the gross material wealth_ it produces, should be sneeringly spoken of, and great swelling eulogies pronounced on the infinite value of the negro's freedom. For this is all he has; and for this, all else has been sacrificed. Thus, since abolitionists themselves have been made to see that the freed negro--the pet and idol of their hearts--will not work from rational motives, then the principles of political economy, and the affairs of the world, all must be adjusted to the course _he_ may be pleased to take.

In this connection we shall notice a passage from Montesquieu, which is exactly in point. He is often quoted by the abolitionists, but seldom fairly. It is true, he is exceedingly hostile to slavery _in general_, and very justly pours ridicule and contempt on some of the arguments used in favor of the institution. But yet, with all his enthusiastic love of liberty,--nay, with his ardent passion for equality,--he saw far too deeply into the true "Spirit of Laws" not to perceive that slavery is, in certain cases, founded on the great principles of political justice. It is precisely in those cases in which a race or a people will not work without being compelled to do so, that he justifies the institution in question. Though warmly and zealously opposed to slavery, yet he was not bent on sacrificing the good of society to abstractions or to prejudice. Hence, he could say: "But as all men are born equal, slavery must be accounted unnatural, THOUGH IN SOME COUNTRIES IT BE FOUNDED ON NATURAL REASON; and a wide difference ought to be made betwixt such countries, and those in which natural reason rejects it, as in Europe, where it has been happily abolished."[192] Now, if we inquire in what countries, or under what circumstances, he considered slavery founded on natural reason, we may find his answer in a preceding portion of the same page. It is in those "countries," says he, "where the excess of heat enervates the body, and renders men so slothful and dispirited, that nothing but the fear of chastisement can oblige them to perform any laborious duty," etc. Such, as we have seen, is precisely the case with the African race in its present condition.

"Natural slavery, then," he continues, "is to be limited to some particular parts of the world."[193] And again: "Bad laws have made lazy men--they have been reduced to slavery because of their laziness." The first portion of this remark--that bad laws have made lazy men--is not applicable to the African race. For they were made lazy, not by bad laws, but by the depravity of human nature, in connection and co-operation with long, long centuries of brutal ignorance and the most savage modes of life. But, be the cause of this laziness what it may, it is sufficient, according to the principles of this great advocate of human freedom and equality, to justify the servitude in which the providence of God has placed the African.

No doubt it is very hard on lazy men that they should be compelled to work. It is for this reason that Montesquieu calls such slavery "the most cruel that is to be found among men;" by which he evidently means that it is the most cruel, though necessary, because those on whom it is imposed are least inclined to work. If he had only had greater experience of negro slavery, the hardship would have seemed far less to him. For though the negro is naturally lazy, and too improvident to work for himself, he will often labor for a master with a right good will, and with a loyal devotion to his interests. He is, indeed, often prepared, and made ready for labor, because he feels that, in his master, he has a protector and a friend.

But whether labor be a heavy burden or a light, it must be borne. The good of the lazy race, and the good of the society into which they have been thrown, both require them to bear this burden, which is, after all and at the worst, far lighter than that of a vagabond life. "Nature cries aloud," says the abolitionist, "for freedom." Nature, we reply, demands that man shall work, and her decree must be fulfilled. For ruin, as we have seen, is the bitter fruit of disobedience to her will.

It is now high time that we should notice some of the exalted eulogies bestowed by abolitionists upon freedom; and also _the kind of freedom_ on which these high praises have been so eloquently lavished. This, accordingly, we shall proceed to do in the following section.

§ IV. _The great benefit supposed by American abolitionists to result to the freed negroes from the British act of emancipation._

We have, in the preceding sections, abundantly seen that the freed colored subjects of the British crown are fast relapsing into the most irretrievable barbarism, while the once flourishing colonies themselves present the most appalling scenes of desolation and distress. Surely it is no wonder that the hurrahing of the English people has ceased. "At the present moment," says the London Times for December 1st, 1852, "if there is one thing in the world that the British public do not like to talk about, or _even to think about_, it is the condition of the race for whom this great effort was made." Not so with the abolitionists of this country. They still keep up the annual celebration of that great event, the act of emancipation, by which, in the language of one of their number, more than half a million of human beings were "turned from brutes into freemen!"

It is the freedom of the negro which they celebrate. Let us look, then, for a few moments, into the mysteries of this celebration, and see, if we may, the nature of the praises they pour forth in honor of freedom, and _the kind of freedom on which_ they are so passionately bestowed.

We shall not quote from the more insane of the fraternity of abolitionists, for their wild, raving nonsense would, indeed, be unworthy of serious refutation. We shall simply notice the language of Dr. Channing, the scholar-like and the eloquent, though visionary, advocate of British emancipation. Even as early as 1842, in an address delivered on the anniversary of that event, he burst into the following strain of impassioned eulogy: "Emancipation works well, far better than could have been anticipated. _To me it could hardly have worked otherwise than well._ It banished _slavery_, that wrong and curse not to be borne. It gave _freedom_, the dear birthright of humanity; and had it done nothing more, I should have found in it cause for joy. Freedom, simple freedom, is 'in my estimation just, far prized above all price.' _I do not stop to ask if the emancipated are better fed and clothed than formerly._ THEY ARE FREE; AND THAT ONE WORD CONTAINS A WORLD OF GOOD,[194] unknown to the most pampered slave." And again, he says, "Nature cries aloud for freedom as our proper good, our birthright and our end, and resents nothing so much as its loss."

In these high-sounding praises, which hold up personal freedom as "our proper good," as "our end," it is assumed that man was made for liberty, and not liberty for man. It is, indeed, one of the fundamental errors of the abolitionist to regard freedom as a great substantive good, or as in itself a blessing, and not merely as a relative good. It may be, and indeed often is, an unspeakable benefit, but then it is so only as a means to an end. The end of our existence, the _proper good_, is the improvement of our intellectual and moral powers, the perfecting of our rational and immortal natures. When freedom subserves this end, it is a good; when it defeats this end, it is an evil. Hence there may be a world of evil as well as a world of good in "this one word."

The wise man adapts the means to the end. It were the very hight of folly to sacrifice the end to the means. No man gives personal freedom to his child because he deems it always and in all cases a good. His heart teaches him a better doctrine when the highest good of his child is concerned. Should we not be permitted, then, to have something of the same feeling in regard to those whom Providence has placed under our care, especially since, having the passions of men, with only the intellects of children, they stand in utmost need of guidance and direction?

As it is their duty to labor, so the law which compels them to do so is not oppressive. It deprives them of the enjoyment of no right, unless, indeed, they may be supposed to have a right to violate their duty. Hence, in compelling the colored population of the South to work, the law does not deprive them of liberty, in the true sense of the word; that is, _it does not deprive them of the enjoyment of any natural right_. It merely requires them to perform a natural duty.

This cannot be denied. It has been, as we have shown, admitted both by Dr. Wayland and Dr. Channing.[195] But while the _end_ is approved, the _means_ are not liked. Few of the abolitionists are disposed to offer any substitute for our method. They are satisfied merely to pull down and destroy, without the least thought or care in regard to consequences. Dr. Channing has, however, been pleased to propose another method, for securing the industry of the black and the prosperity of the State. Let us then, for a moment, look at this scheme.