“Yes, my dear, this is all very well in the abstract; but how does it work?”
“It works well. The luxury, the pampered state, the idleness—if you please, the wickedness of the rich, all contribute to the support, the comfort, and employment of the poor. You may behold extravagance—it is a vice; but that very extravagance circulates money, and the vice of one contributes to the happiness of many. The only vice which is not redeemed by producing commensurate good, is avarice. If all were equal there would be no arts, no manufactures, no industry, no employment. As it is, the inequality of the distribution of wealth may be compared to the heart, pouring forth the blood like a steam-engine through the human frame, the same blood returning from the extremities by the veins, to be again propelled, and keep up a healthy and vigorous circulation.”
“Bravo, Jack!” said Dr Middleton. “Have you anything to reply, sir?” continued he, addressing Mr Easy.
“To reply, sir?” replied Mr Easy with scorn, “why, he has not given me half an argument yet—why, that black servant even laughs at him—look at him there, showing his teeth. Can he forget the horrors of slavery? can he forget the base unfeeling lash?—no, sir, he has suffered, and he can estimate the divine right of equality. Ask him now, ask him if you dare, Jack, whether he will admit the truth of your argument.”
“Well, I’ll ask him,” replied Jack, “and I tell you candidly that he was once one of your disciples. Mesty, what’s your opinion of equality?”
“Equality, Massa Easy?” replied Mesty, pulling up his cravat; “I say damn equality, now I major domo.”
“The rascal deserves to be a slave all his life.”
“True, I ab been slave—but I a prince in my own country—Massa Easy tell how many skulls I have.”
“Skulls—skulls—do you know anything of the sublime science; are you a phrenologist?”
“I know man’s skull very well in Ashantee country, anyhow.”