But surely, the
honourable admiral must have meant, that, as he had often toiled like a
slave in the defence of his country, (as his many gallant actions had
proved,) so he envied the day, when he was to toil in a similar manner in
the same cause. If, however, his words to be taken literally, his
sensations could only be accounted for by his having seen the negros in the
hour of their sports, when a sense of the misery of their condition was
neither felt by themselves nor visible to others. But their appearance on
such occasions did by no means disprove their low and abject state. Nothing
made a happy slave but a degraded man. In proportion as the mind grows
callous to its degradation, and all sense of manly pride is lost, the slave
feels comfort. In fact, he is no longer a man. If he were to define a man,
he would say with Shakespeare,
"Man is a being holding large discourse, Looking before and after."
But a slave was incapable of looking before and after. He had no motive to
do it. He was a mere passive instrument in the hands of others, to be used
at their discretion. Though living, he was dead as to all voluntary agency.
Though moving amidst the creation with an erect form, and with the shape
and semblance of a human being, he was a nullity as a man.
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