kindness, or monstrous injustice and cruelty? Now, every body knows
that the slaveholders do these things to the slaves every day, and yet
it is stoutly affirmed that they treat them well and kindly, and that
their tender regard for their slaves restrains the masters from
inflicting cruelties upon them. We shall go into no metaphysics to
show the absurdity of this pretence. The man who _robs_ you every day,
is, forsooth, quite too tender-hearted ever to cuff or kick you! True,
he can snatch your money, but he does it gently lest he should hurt
you. He can empty your pockets without qualms, but if your _stomach_
is empty, it cuts him to the quick. He can make you work a life time
without pay, but loves you too well to let you go hungry. He fleeces
you of your _rights_ with a relish, but is shocked if you work
bareheaded in summer, or in winter without warm stockings. He can make
you go without your _liberty_, but never without a shirt. He can
crush, in you, all hope of bettering your condition, by vowing that
you shall die his slave, but though he can coolly torture your
feelings, he is too compassionate to lacerate your back--he can break
your heart, but he is very tender of your skin. He can strip you of
all protection and thus expose you to all outrages, but if you are
exposed to the _weather_, half clad and half sheltered, how yearn his
tender bowels! What! slaveholders talk of treating men well, and yet
not only rob them of all they get, and as fast as they get it, but rob
them of _themselves_, also; their very hands and feet, all their
muscles, and limbs, and senses, their bodies and minds, their time and
liberty and earnings, their free speech and rights of conscience,
their right to acquire knowledge, and property, and reputation;--and
yet they, who plunder them of all these, would fain make us believe
that their soft hearts ooze out so lovingly toward their slaves that
they always keep them well housed and well clad, never push them too
hard in the field, never make their dear backs smart, nor let their