A MAGAZINE OF LITERATURE, ART, AND POLITICS.

VOL.  IX.—­MARCH, 1862.—­NO.  LIII.

THE FRUITS OF FREE LABOR IN THE SMALLER ISLANDS OF THE BRITISH WEST INDIES.

The emancipation of an enslaved race seems, at first thought, a most uncertain and perilous undertaking.  To do away with inherited and constantly strengthening tendencies toward irresponsibility and idleness,—­to substitute the pleasure of activity or the distant good from industry for the very palpable influence of compulsion,—­to implant forethought and alertness and ingenuity, where, before, labor was stolid and sulky and unthinking,—­to confer the habit of self-dependence and the courage for unknown tasks on a people timid, childish, and dependent,—­to teach self-control in place of the custom of control by masters, or by caprice and passion,—­in a word, to make a free man out of a born slave,—­appears at first sight the most difficult task which any legislator or reformer could ever attempt.

Leaving out of view all possible moral changes which might be induced by time and patient labor on such a being, we should say beforehand that at least economically—­that is, regarding the production for the wants of the world by the freed man—­the experiment of emancipation would prove, in all probability, a failure.  We put it to the reader.  Suppose that you, an Anglo-American, not born a slave, had by some misfortune been captured fifteen years since by an Algerine pirate, and during those years, under the fear of lash and bayonet, had been vigorously adding to the commodities of the world in the production of cotton.  At length, in some moment of Algerine sentiment for human rights, you are set free by the government, and are enabled to possess a little farm of your own in the African mountains.  What would probably be your views as to the economic duty of adding to that great benefaction to the human race, the production of cotton?  What would be your personal sentiments toward cotton and all species of labor connected therewith?  How, especially, would you be apt to view the estate where you had spent so many agreeable years, and the master for whom you had produced so much without reward?  Fancy an effort on his part to hire you,—­possibly even at lower wages than other laborers receive, in view of your many obligations to him!

It is barely possible that you might prefer even the small farm,—­where you were producing nothing but “pumpkin” for the world, to increasing the exports of Algeria on the old property, under the same master and at half-wages.  For some years at least, the world’s production would not probably be greatly assisted by you.  A certain degree of idleness would have a charm for a time, even to an Anglo-American, after such an experience.