In thus taking it for granted, as Dr. Wayland so coolly does, that the institution in question is "intended" to sacrifice the happiness of the slaves to the selfish interest of the master, he incontinently begs the whole question. Let him establish this point, and the whole controversy will be at an end. But let him not hope to establish any thing, or to satisfy any one, by assuming the very point in dispute, and then proceed to demolish what every man at the South condemns no less than himself. Surely, no one who has looked at both sides of this great question can be ignorant that the legislation of the South proceeds on the principle that slavery is beneficial, not to the master only, but also and especially to the slave. Surely, no one who has either an eye or an ear for facts can be ignorant that the institution of slavery is based on the ground, or principle, that it is beneficial, not only to the parts, but also to the whole, of the society in which it exists. This ground, or principle, is set forth in every defense of slavery by the writers and speakers of the South; it is so clearly and so unequivocally set forth, that he who runs may read. Why, then, is it overlooked by Dr. Wayland? Why is he pleased to imagine that he is combating Southern principles, when, in reality, he is merely combating the monstrous figment, the distorted conception of his own brain,—namely, the right of one man to sacrifice the happiness of multitudes to his own will and pleasure? Is it because facts do not lie within the province of the moral philosopher? Is it because fiction alone is worthy of his attention? Or is it because a blind, partisan zeal has so far taken possession of his very understanding, that he finds it impossible to speak of the institution of slavery, except in the language of the grossest misrepresentation?
§ X. 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.
"This claim of property in a human being," says Dr. Channing, "is altogether false, groundless. No such right of man in man can exist. A human being cannot be justly owned." The only difficulty in maintaining this position is, according to Dr. Channing, "on account of its exceeding obviousness. It is too plain for proof. To defend it is like trying to confirm a self-evident truth," etc., etc. Yet he advances no less than seven "arguments," as he calls them, in order to establish this self-evident position. We shall examine these seven arguments, and see if his great confidence be not built on a mere abuse of words.
"The consciousness of our humanity," says he, "involves the persuasion that we cannot be owned as a tree or a brute." This, as every body knows, is one of the hackneyed commonplaces of the abolitionist. He never ceases to declaim about the injustice of slavery, because it regards, as he is pleased to assert, a man as a mere thing or a brute. Now, once for all, we freely admit that it were monstrously unjust to regard or treat a man otherwise than as a man. We freely admit that a human being "can not be owned as a tree or a brute."
A tree may be absolutely owned. That is to say, the owner of a tree may do what he pleases with his own, provided he do no harm or injury with it. He may cut it down; and, if he please, he may beat it as long as he has the power to raise an arm. He may work it into a house or into a piece of furniture, or he may lay it on the fire, and reduce it to ashes. He may, we repeat, do just exactly what he pleases with his own, if his own be such a thing as a tree, for a tree has no rights.
It is far otherwise with a brute. The owner of a horse, for example, may not do what he pleases with his own. Here his property is not absolute; it is limited. He may not beat his horse without mercy, "for a good man is merciful to his beast." He may not cut his horse to pieces, or burn him on the fire. For the horse has rights, which the owner himself is bound to respect. The horse has a right to food and kind treatment, and the owner who refuses these is a tyrant. Nay, the very worm that crawls beneath our feet has his rights as well as the monarch on his throne; and just in so far as these rights are disregarded by a man is that man a tyrant.
Hence even the brute may not be regarded or treated as a mere thing or a tree. He can be owned and treated no otherwise than as a brute. The horse, for example, may not be left, like a tree, without food and care; but he may be saddled and rode as a horse; or he may be hitched to the plough, and compelled to do his master's work.
In like manner, a man cannot be owned or treated as a horse. He cannot be saddled or rode, nor hitched to the plough and be made to do the work of a horse. On the contrary, he should be treated as a man, and required to perform only the work of a man. The right to such work is all the ownership which any one man can rightfully have in another; and this is all which any slaveholder of the South needs to claim.
The real question is, Can one man have a right to the personal service or obedience of another without his consent? We do not intend to let the abolitionist throw dust in our eyes, and shout victory amid a clamor of words. We intend to hold him to the point. Whether he be a learned divine, or a distinguished senator, we intend he shall speak to the point, or else his argument shall be judged, not according to the eloquent noise it makes or the excitement it produces, but according to the sense it contains.
Can a man, then, have a right to the labor or obedience of another without his consent? Give us this right, and it is all we ask. We lay no claim to the soul of the slave. We grant to the abolitionist, even more freely than he can assert, that the "soul of the slave is his own." Or, rather, we grant that his soul belongs exclusively to the God who gave it. The master may use him not as a tree or a brute, but only as a rational, accountable, and immortal being may be used. He may not command him to do any thing which is wrong; and if he should so far forget himself as to require such service of his slave, he would himself be guilty of the act. If he should require his slave to violate any law of the land, he would be held not as a particeps criminis merely, but as a criminal in the first degree. In like manner, if he should require him to violate the law of God, he would be guilty—far more guilty than the slave himself—in the sight of heaven. These are truths which are just as well understood at the South as they are at the North.
