The Knickerbocker, Vol. 10, No. 2, August 1837

by Various

Men are not created equal by nature. In saying this, I beg not to be understood as denying 'the Declaration of Independence.' I understand the illustrious writer of that instrument to mean no more than this; that for good reasons, operating in the social state, all men are to be regarded as equal, so far as to have equal respect paid to their rights; to be entitled to equal protection, and to be judged by one standard of legal rectitude. Or, in other words, in the eye of the law, all men are equal.

But while I do not depart from this clause of the sacred declaration referred to, I perceive that I differ widely from the vociferous patriot and over-zealous philanthropist of the present day, who have contrived to engross much more of the public attention than either their integrity or doctrines seem to warrant.

The former overwhelms the voice of reason with his varied clamor in favor of the equality of meanness with magnanimity—of vice with virtue—of ignorance with intelligence—of vulgar rudeness and barbarity, with taste and elegance; and he demands that in social intercourse, and in the administration of government, the vicious and ignorant shall be entitled to the same consideration and influence as the virtuous and enlightened citizen; because 'all men are created equal!'

The new order of philanthropists increase the clamor of the greedy patriot. They have discovered that the negroes are at least equal to, if not a little better, than the best of the Europeans; and they lead forth their colored favorites, of various hues, and demand their admittance into a well-organized society; a benevolent concession in favor of their equality; an admission that their heads are well formed, their sentiments exalted, their persons delicate, and their odor savory! They invite them to the table of the American citizen, and beckon them to his bed; and this 'because all men are created equal!'

There are distinctions among men, which neither the fierce patriot nor ignorant philanthropist can eradicate; distinctions appointed by the author of nature, and which have not failed to be acknowledged by the most enlightened observers; a brief view of which it may not be unprofitable to take, even in an imperfect effort to distinguish the false from the true nobility of nature.

I am far from asserting, that all the distinctions which exist in the social state, are so by the appointment of nature. There is an artificial aristocracy, created by the improper constitutions of some governments, and the arbitrary and unequal laws of all, of the cause of whose greatness nature is entirely innocent. For instance, a man may inherit and enjoy all his life the title and honors of nobility, who, had he depended upon his natural resources for rank and station, might never have ascended in the scale of human excellence, beyond the condition of an agile circus-rider. And it is no less palpable, that a wealthy parent, through the influence of the laws of primogeniture, may transmit to his eldest son an inheritance which may place him high among the aristocracy of wealth, who, but for the fruits of a parent's acquisitiveness, might laudably have earned his bread by the sweat of his brow, and instead of being regarded as an exquisite dandy, might have been celebrated for his mechanical ingenuity, or the excellence of his 'goods, wares, and merchandise.' The same causes may sometimes operate to deprive nature's noblemen of their just station among men. Artificial worth may assume the place of natural; wealth and fashion may displace virtue and intellect; and genius and talent may be compelled to give precedence to a titled nobility, or to the possessors of vast estates.

Again. There are good objections to some natural pretenders to rank; even dame nature has her counterfeits and false forms; her mushrooms, her empty heads and shells. The fair-pretending tree may never blossom, or if it do, may neglect to bear fruit. The highest heads of wheat in the broad field are false and empty. But a correct observer of nature may readily distinguish between her false and her genuine productions; and a close observer of men will never be at a loss to detect, nor hesitate to deny, the bold pretensions of mere self-esteem.

Instinctive self-esteem enables its possessor, without seeking to form a just estimate of his own character, to regard himself as equal to all men, and superior to most of them; to arrive at conclusions without the dull and tedious process of reasoning, to which plodding creatures subject themselves; to have and maintain opinions, without the trouble of forming, or the labor of defending them; and to look down upon his superiors, without suspecting that they despise him, or a doubt of his own insolated and extraordinary excellence. He proverbially carries his head high; and it has been remarked by phrenologists, in the direction of the single organ to whose over-manifestation they allege he is indebted for all his conscious greatness. He forms one of nature's wild experiments, by which she has wantonly demonstrated, how enormous a structure of self-complacency can be based upon—nothing at all! He is one of nature's contradictions, by which she has proved how great an effect may exist without any cause whatever! In him you behold the origin of village greatness, which is dependent upon the size of two things, to wit: the large size of self-esteem, and the small size of the place it inhabits.

There is another pretender to high rank among men, whose claims are nearly as unfounded as those last under consideration. I mean the man who claims your high regard, not for what he is, but for what he has got—who exacts your admiration, not for what he does, but for what he has the power to do; and who, while he performs no good service to mankind, does not fail to impress them with the belief, that he might, at any time, if so disposed, astonish them with a display of generosity, and a noble exercise of the means of active benevolence, and permanent usefulness. He is the creature of the acquisitive instinct, whose sole merit is based upon successful efforts at accumulation. This instinct he possesses in common with various quadrupeds. The ground-squirrel possesses the same attribute, to a limited extent. Who has not observed this interesting animal crowding his cheek with autumnal fruits, and gaily carrying them to his winter quarters? But this little creature gathers only a competence; his instinct is a moderate one, and apparently under the guidance of reason; while the accumulating biped seems not to be a judge of a competency, and grows more eager in the pursuit of wealth, as it becomes less valuable to him. No propensity of the human mind gains more in activity and strength by exercise, than that of acquisitiveness. It may begin as a good instinct of man's nature, and excite him to lay up the means of satisfying his natural, and even his artificial wants. So far, its obvious utility demands our respect. But all men do not stop here. Even so much exercise as to attain this laudable end, may so heighten the natural disposition to accumulate, that it becomes the tyrant of the soul, and takes the lead of all the other propensities. It comes in conflict with the demands of the stomach, the suggestions of taste, and paternal affection; and the victim of avarice becomes also the victim of unsatisfied hunger, ungratified taste, and unindulged kindness. To use the terms of a science just beginning to be understood, his veneration is satisfied with adoring the matériel of Aaron's idol, to the exclusion of all other gods; his conscientiousness, quickened by cautiousness, is content with forbearing to take usury, when there is reason to fear a legal forfeiture; and his adhesiveness is never more strongly manifested, than when he sticks to a debtor 'closer than a brother,' until he pays the uttermost farthing. His secretiveness is active, when the tax-gatherer is at his door; and his cautiousness is extreme when listening to the tale of distress, or to the assurances of the suppliant borrower. His locality selects places for future cities; his size divides them into lots twenty-five by one hundred feet; and he disposes of them to those endowed with large marvellousness. He getteth rich—and is reverenced, because he has never been accused of theft, nor convicted of swindling.