An Essay on the Slavery and Commerce of the Human Species, Particularly the African - Thomas Clarkson
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CHAP. III.
We may now deduce those general maxims concerning _subordination_,
and _liberty_, which we mentioned to have been essentially
connected with the subject, and which some, from speculation only, and
without any allusion to facts, have been bold enough to deny.
It appears first, that _liberty_ is a _natural_, and
_government_ an _adventitious_ right, because all men were
originally free.
It appears secondly, that government is a [042]_contract_ because,
in these primeval subordinate societies, we have seen it voluntarily
conferred on the one hand, and accepted on the other. We have seen it
subject to various restrictions. We have seen its articles, which could
then only be written by tradition and use, as perfect and binding as
those, which are now committed to letters. We have seen it, in short,
partaking of the _federal_ nature, as much as it could in a state,
which wanted the means of recording its transactions.
It appear thirdly, that the grand object of the _contrast_, is the
_happiness_ of the people; because they gave the supremacy to him
alone, who had been conspicuous for the splendour of his abilities, or
the integrity of his life: that the power of the multitude being
directed by the _wisdom_ and _justice_ of the prince, they
might experience the most effectual protection from injury, the highest
advantages of society, the greatest possible _happiness_.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES
[Footnote 042: The author has lately read a work, intitled Paley's Moral
and Political Philosophy, which, in this one respect, favours those
which have been hinted at, as it denies that government was a contract.
"No social compact was ever made in fact,"--"it is to suppose it
possible to call savages out of caves and deserts, to deliberate upon
topicks, which the experience and studies, and the refinements of civil
life alone suggest. Therefore no government in the universe begun from
this original." But there are no grounds for so absurd a supposition;
for government, and of course the social compact, does not appear to
have been introduced at the time, when families coming out of their
caves and deserts, or, in other words, quitting their former
_dissociated_ state, joined themselves together. They had lived a
considerable time in _society_, like the Lybians and Gaetulians
before-mentioned, and had felt many of the disadvantages of a want of
discipline and laws, before government was introduced at all. The author
of this Essay, before he took into consideration the origin of
government, was determined, in a matter of such importance, to be
biassed by no opinion whatever, and much less to indulge himself in
speculation. He was determined solely to adhere to fact, and, by looking
into the accounts left us of those governments which were in their
infancy, and, of course in the least complicated state, to attempt to
discover their foundation: he cannot say therefore, that upon a very
minute perusal of the excellent work before quoted, he has been so far
convinced, as to retract in the least from his sentiments on this head,
and to give up maxims, which are drawn from historical facts, for those,
which are the result of speculation. He may observe here, that whether
government was a _contract_ or not, it will not affect the
reasoning of the present Essay; since where ever the contract is
afterwards mentioned, it is inferred only that its object was "the
_happiness of the people_," which is confessedly the end of
government. Notwithstanding this, he is under the necessity of inserting
this little note, though he almost feels himself ungrateful in
contradicting a work, which has afforded him so much entertainment.]
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CHAP. IV.
Having now collected the materials that are necessary for the
prosecution of our design, we shall immediately enter upon the
discussion.
If any man had originally been endued with power, as with other
faculties, so that the rest of mankind had discovered in themselves an
_innate necessity_ of obeying this particular person; it is evident
that he and his descendants, from the superiority of their nature, would
have had a claim upon men for obedience, and a natural right to command:
but as the right to empire is _adventitious_; as all were
originally free; as nature made every man's body and mind _his
own_; it is evident that no just man can be consigned to
_slavery_, without his own _consent_.
Neither can men, by the same principles, be considered as lands, goods,
or houses, among _possessions_. It is necessary that all
_property_ should be inferiour to its _possessor_. But how
does the _slave_ differ from his _master_, but by _chance_?
For though the mark, with which the latter is pleased to
brand him, shews, at the first sight, the difference of their
_fortune_; what mark can be found in his _nature_, that can
warrant a distinction?
To this consideration we shall add the following, that if men can justly
become the property of each other, their children, like the offspring of
cattle, must inherit their _paternal_ lot. Now, as the actions of
the father and the child must be thus at the sole disposal of their
common master, it is evident, that the _authority_ of the one, as a
_parent_, and the _duty_ of the other, as a _child_, must
be instantly annihilated; rights and obligations, which, as they are
sounded in nature, are implanted in our feelings, and are established by
the voice of God, must contain in their annihilation a solid argument to
prove, that there cannot be any _property_ whatever in the _human
species_.
We may consider also, as a farther confirmation, that it is impossible,
in the nature of things, that _liberty_ can be _bought_ or
_sold_! It is neither _saleable_, nor _purchasable_. For
if any one man can have an absolute property in the liberty of another,
or, in other words, if he, who is called a _master_, can have a
_just_ right to command the actions of him, who is called a
_slave_, it is evident that the latter cannot be accountable for
those crimes, which the former may order him to commit. Now as every
reasonable being is accountable for his actions, it is evident, that
such a right cannot _justly_ exist, and that human liberty, of
course, is beyond the possibility either of _sale_ or _purchase_.
Add to this, that, whenever you sell the liberty of a man,
you have the power only of alluding to the _body_: the _mind_
cannot be confined or bound: it will be free, though its
mansion be beset with chains. But if, in every sale of the _human
species_, you are under the necessity of considering your slave in
this abstracted light; of alluding only to the body, and of making no
allusion to the mind; you are under the necessity also of treating him,
in the same moment, as a _brute_, and of abusing therefore that
nature, which cannot otherwise be considered, than in the double
capacity of _soul_ and _body_.
But some person, perhaps, will make an objection to one of the former
arguments. "If men, from _superiority_ of their nature, cannot be
considered, like lands, goods, or houses, among possessions, so neither
can cattle: for being endued with life, motion, and sensibility, they
are evidently _superiour_ to these." But this objection will
receive its answer from those observations which have been already made;
and will discover the true reason, why cattle are justly to be estimated
as property. For first, the right to empire over brutes, is
_natural_, and not _adventitious_, like the right to empire
over men. There are, secondly, many and evident signs of the
_inferiority_ of their nature; and thirdly, their liberty can be
bought and sold, because, being void of reason, they cannot be
_accountable_ for their actions.
We might stop here for a considerable time, and deduce many valuable
lessons from the remarks that have been made, but that such a
circumstance might be considered as a digression. There is one, however,
which, as it is so intimately connected with the subject, we cannot but
deduce. We are taught to treat men in a different manner from brutes,
because they are so manifestly superiour in their nature; we are taught
to treat brutes in a different manner from stones, for the same reason;
and thus, by giving to every created thing its due respect, to answer
the views of Providence, which did not create a variety of natures
without a purpose or design.
But if these things are so, how evidently against reason, nature, and
every thing human and divine, must they act, who not only force men into
_slavery_, against their own _consent_; but treat them altogether
as _brutes_, and make the _natural liberty_ of man an article
of publick commerce! and by what arguments can they possibly
defend that commerce, which cannot be carried on, in any single
instance, without a flagrant violation of the laws of nature and of God?
* * * * *
CHAP. V.
That we may the more accurately examine the arguments that are advanced
on this occasion, it will be proper to divide the _commerce_ into
two parts; first, as it relates to those who _sell_, and secondly,
as it relates to those who _purchase_, the _human species_
into slavery. To the former part of which, having given every previous
and necessary information in the history of servitude, we shall
immediately proceed.
Let us inquire first, by what particular right the _liberties_ of
the harmless people are invaded by the _prince_. "By the _right
of empire_," it will be answered; "because he possesses dominion and
power by their own approbation and consent." But subjects, though under
the dominion, are not the _property_, of the prince. They cannot be
considered as his _possessions_. Their _natures_ are both the
same; they are both born in the same manner; are subject to the same
disorders; must apply to the same remedies for a cure; are equally
partakers of the grave: an _incidental_ distinction accompanies
them through life, and this--is all.
We may add to this, that though the prince possesses dominion and power,
by the consent and approbation of his subjects, he possesses it only for
the most _salutary_ ends. He may tyrannize, if he can: he may alter
the _form_ of his government: he cannot, however, alter its
_nature_ and _end_. These will be immutably the same, though
the whole system of its administration should be changed; and he will be
still bound to _defend_ the lives and properties of his subjects,
and to make them _happy_.
Does he defend those therefore, whom he invades at discretion with the
sword? Does he protect the property of those, whose houses and effects
he consigns at discretion to the flames? Does he make those happy, whom
he seizes, as they are trying to escape the general devastation, and
compels with their wives and families to a wretched _servitude?_ He
acts surely, as if the use of empire consisted in violence and
oppression; as if he, that was most exalted, ought, of necessity, to be
most unjust. Here then the voice of _nature_ and _justice_ is
against him. He breaks that law of _nature_, which ordains, "that no
just man shall be given into slavery, against his own _consent_:"
he violates the first law of _justice_, as established among men,
"that no person shall do harm to another without a previous and
sufficient _provocation_;" and he violates also the sacred
condition of _empire_, made with his ancestors, and necessarily
understood in every species of government, "that, the power of the
multitude being given up to the wisdom and justice of the prince, they
may experience, in return, the most effectual protection from injury,
the highest advantages of society, the greatest possible
_happiness_."
But if kings then, to whom their own people have granted dominion and
power, are unable to invade the liberties of their harmless subjects,
without the highest _injustice_; how can those private persons be
justified, who treacherously lie in wait for their fellow-creatures, and
sell them into slavery? What arguments can they possibly bring in
their defence? What treaty of empire can they produce, by which their
innocent victims ever resigned to them the least portion of their
_liberty_? In vain will they plead the _antiquity_ of the
custom: in vain will the _honourable_ light, in which _piracy_
was considered in the ages of barbarism, afford them an excuse. Impious
and abandoned men! ye invade the liberties of those, who, (with respect
to your impious selves) are in a state of _nature_, in a state of
original _dissociation_, perfectly _independent_, perfectly
_free_.
It appears then, that the two orders of slaves, which have been
mentioned in the history of the African servitude, "of those who are
publickly seized by virtue of the authority of their prince; and of
those, who are privately kidnapped by individuals," are collected by
means of violence and oppression; by means, repugnant to _nature_,
the principles of _government_, and the common notions of
_equity_, as established among men.
* * * * *
CHAP. VI.
We come now to the third order of _involuntary_ slaves, "to
convicts." The only argument that the sellers advance here, is this,
"that they have been found guilty of offences, and that the punishment
is just." But before the equity of the sentence can be allowed two
questions must be decided, whether the punishment is _proportioned_
to the offence, and what is its particular _object_ and _end_?
To decide the first, we may previously observe, that the African
servitude comprehends _banishment_, a _deprivation_ of _liberty_,
and many _corporal_ sufferings.
On _banishment_, the following observations will suffice. Mankind
have their _local_ attachments. They have a particular regard for
the spot, in which they were born and nurtured. Here it was, that they
first drew their infant-breath: here, that they were cherished and
supported: here, that they passed those scenes of childhood, which, free
from care and anxiety, are the happiest in the life of man; scenes,
which accompany them through life; which throw themselves frequently
into their thoughts, and produce the most agreeable sensations. These
then are weighty considerations; and how great this regard is, may be
evidenced from our own feelings; from the testimony of some, who, when
remote from their country, and, in the hour of danger and distress, have
found their thoughts unusually directed, by some impulse or other, to
their native spot; and from the example of others, who, having braved
the storms and adversities of life, either repair to it for the
remainder of their days, or desire even to be conveyed to it, when
existence is no more.
But separately from these their _local_, they have also their
_personal_ attachments; their regard for particular men. There are
ties of blood; there are ties of friendship. In the former case, they
must of necessity be attached: the constitution of their nature demands
it. In the latter, it is impossible to be otherwise, since friendship is
founded on an harmony of temper, on a concordance of sentiments and
manners, on habits of confidence, and a mutual exchange of favours.
We may now mention, as perfectly distinct both from their _local_
and_ personal_, the _national_ attachments of mankind, their
regard for the whole body of the people, among whom they were born and
educated. This regard is particularly conspicuous in the conduct of
such, as, being thus _nationally_ connected, reside in foreign
parts. How anxiously do they meet together! how much do they enjoy the
fight of others of their countrymen, whom fortune places in their way!
what an eagerness do they show to serve them, though not born on the
same particular spot, though not connected by consanguinity or
friendship, though unknown to them before! Neither is this affection
wonderful, since they are creatures of the same education; of the same
principles; of the same manners and habits; cast, as it were, in the
same mould; and marked with the same impression.
If men therefore are thus separately attached to the several objects
described, it is evident that a separate exclusion from either must
afford them considerable pain. What then must be their sufferings, to be
forced for ever from their country, which includes them all? Which
contains the _spot_, in which they were born and nurtured; which
contains their _relations_ and _friends_; which contains the
whole body of the _people_, among whom they were bred and educated.
In these sufferings, which arise to men, both in bidding, and in having
bid, adieu to all that they esteem as dear and valuable,
_banishment_ consists in part; and we may agree therefore with the
ancients, without adding other melancholy circumstances to the account,
that it is no inconsiderable punishment of itself.
With respect to the _loss_ of _liberty_, which is the second
consideration in the punishment, it is evident that men bear nothing
worse; that there is nothing, that they lay more at heart; and that they
have shewn, by many and memorable instances, that even death is to be
preferred. How many could be named here, who, having suffered the
_loss_ of _liberty_, have put a period to their existence! How
many, that have willingly undergone the hazard of their lives to destroy
a tyrant! How many, that have even gloried to perish in the attempt! How
many bloody and publick wars have been undertaken (not to mention the
numerous _servile_ insurrections, with which history is stained)
for the cause of _freedom_!
But if nothing is dearer than _liberty_ to men, with which, the
barren rock is able to afford its joys, and without which, the glorious
fun shines upon them but in vain, and all the sweets and delicacies of
life are tasteless and unenjoyed; what punishment can be more severe
than the loss of so great a blessing? But if to this _deprivation_
of _liberty_, we add the agonizing pangs of _banishment_; and
if to the complicated stings of both, we add the incessant _stripes,
wounds_, and _miseries_, which are undergone by those, who are
sold into this horrid _servitude_; what crime can we possibly
imagine to be so enormous, as to be worthy of so great a punishment?
How contrary then to reason, justice, and nature, must those act, who
apply this, the severest of human punishments, to the most insignificant
offence! yet such is the custom with the Africans: for, from the time,
in which the Europeans first intoxicated the African princes with their
foreign draughts, no crime has been committed, no shadow of a crime
devised, that has not immediately been punished with _servitude_.
But for what purpose is the punishment applied? Is it applied to amend
the manners of the criminal, and thus render him a better subject? No,
for if you banish him, he can no longer be a subject, and you can no
longer therefore be solicitous for his morals. Add to this, that if you
banish him to a place, where he is to experience the hardships of want
and hunger (so powerfully does hunger compel men to the perpetration of
crimes) you force him rather to corrupt, than amend his manners, and to
be wicked, when he might otherwise be just.
Is it applied then, that others may be deterred from the same
proceedings, and that crimes may become less frequent? No, but that
_avarice_ may be gratified; that the prince may experience the
emoluments of the sale: for, horrid and melancholy thought! the more
crimes his subjects commit, the richer is he made; the more
_abandoned_ the subject, the _happier_ is the prince!
Neither can we allow that the punishment thus applied, tends in any
degree to answer _publick happiness_; for if men can be sentenced
to slavery, right or wrong; if shadows can be turned into substances,
and virtues into crimes; it is evident that none can be happy, because
none can be secure.
But if the punishment is infinitely greater than the offence, (which has
been shewn before) and if it is inflicted, neither to amend the
criminal, nor to deter others from the same proceedings, nor to advance,
in any degree, the happiness of the publick, it is scarce necessary to
observe, that it is totally unjust, since it is repugnant to
_reason_, the dictates of _nature_, and the very principles of
_government_.
* * * * *
CHAP. VII.
We come now to the fourth and last order of slaves, to _prisoners of
war_. As the _sellers_ lay a particular stress on this order of
men, and infer much, from its _antiquity_, in support of the
justice of their cause, we shall examine the principle, on which it
subsisted among the ancients. But as this principle was the same among
all nations, and as a citation from many of their histories would not be
less tedious than unnecessary, we shall select the example of the Romans
for the consideration of the case.
The law, by which prisoners of war were said to be sentenced to
servitude, was the _law of nations_[043]. It was so called from the
universal concurrence of nations in the custom. It had two points in
view, the _persons_ of the _captured_, and their _effects_; both
of which it immediately sentenced, without any of the usual
forms of law, to be the property of the _captors_.
The principle, on which the law was established, was the _right of
capture_. When any of the contending parties had overcome their
opponents, and were about to destroy them, the right was considered to
commence; a right, which the victors conceived themselves to have, to
recall their swords, and, from the consideration of having saved the
lives of the vanquished, when they could have taken them by the laws of
war, to commute _blood_ for _service_. Hence the Roman lawyer,
Pomponius, deduces the etymology of _slave_ in the Roman language.
"They were called _servi_[044], says he, from the following
circumstance. It was usual with our commanders to take them prisoners,
and sell them: now this circumstance implies, that they must have been
previously _preserved_, and hence the name." Such then was the
_right of capture_. It was a right, which the circumstance of
_taking_ the vanquished, that is, of _preserving_ them alive,
gave the conquerors to their persons. By this right, as always including
the idea of a previous preservation from death, the vanquished were said
_to be slaves_[045]; and, "as all slaves," says Justinian, "are
themselves in the power of others, and of course can have nothing of
their own, so their effects followed the condition of their persons, and
became the property of the captors."
To examine this right, by which the vanquished were said to be slaves,
we shall use the words of a celebrated Roman author, and apply them to
the present case[046]. "If it is lawful," says he, "to deprive a man of
his life, it is certainly not inconsistent with nature to rob him;" to
rob him of his liberty. We admit the conclusion to be just, if the
supposition be the same: we allow, if men have a right to commit that,
which is considered as a greater crime, that they have a right, at the
same instant, to commit that, which is considered as a less. But what
shall we say to the _hypothesis_? We deny it to be true. The voice
of nature is against it. It is not lawful to kill, but on
_necessity_. Had there been a necessity, where had the wretched
captive survived to be broken with chains and servitude? The very act of
saving his life is an argument to prove, that no such necessity existed.
The _conclusion_ is therefore false. The captors had no right to
the _lives_ of the captured, and of course none to their
_liberty_: they had no right to their _blood_, and of course
none to their _service_. Their right therefore had no foundation in
justice. It was founded on a principle, contrary to the law of nature,
and of course contrary to that law, which people, under different
governments, are bound to observe to one another.
It is scarce necessary to observe, as a farther testimony of the
injustice of the measure, that the Europeans, after the introduction of
Christianity, exploded this principle of the ancients, as frivolous and
false; that they spared the lives of the vanquished, not from the sordid
motives of _avarice_, but from a conscientiousness, that homicide
could only be justified by _necessity_; that they introduced an
_exchange_ of prisoners, and, by many and wise regulations,
deprived war of many of its former horrours.
But the advocates for slavery, unable to defend themselves against these
arguments, have fled to other resources, and, ignorant of history, have
denied that the _right of capture_ was the true principle, on which
slavery subsisted among the ancients. They reason thus. "The learned
Grotius, and others, have considered slavery as the just consequence of
a private war, (supposing the war to be just and the opponents in a
state of nature), upon the principles of _reparation_ and
_punishment_. Now as the law of nature, which is the rule of
conduct to individuals in such a situation, is applicable to members of
a different community, there is reason to presume, that these principles
were applied by the ancients to their prisoners of war; that their
_effects_ were confiscated by the right of _reparation_, and
their _persons_ by the right of _punishment_."--