CHAPTER V.

OPINION OF THE ANCIENT WORLD ON SLAVERY.

Permanence of Slavery under all Revolutions--Ignorance of

Principle of Human Equality--Theory and Personal Experience of

Plato--Contentment of Slaves with their Condition--Occasional

Comfort and Happiness of Slaves--Absence of Revolts against

Slavery--Social and Political Rights ignored by Greeks and Romans.

Having, in the preceding chapters, shown how human slavery came into

the world, how it originated in the despotism of paternal power,

before laws or governments were known, and how, coeval with society

itself, it had grown up, flourished, and everywhere established

itself, as a _domestic_ institution, before any conventional act or

delegated authority of society came to consolidate it as a _social_

institution--having shown all this, and afterwards explained the

subsequent modifications, enlargements, and aggravations of slavery

made by positive legislation,--let us now ascertain why the diabolical

institution endured so long in the world; why it still endures in very

many countries; and, above all, why every attempt to get rid of it has

hitherto only had the effect of aggravating the evils of society, and

making the mass of mankind more miserable slaves, _without the name_,

than any that ever bore the name in ancient or modern times. Having

ascertained this, we shall then be prepared to comprehend the only just

and practicable means whereby slavery of every sort, and in every form

and degree, may be effectually and for ever banished from the world.

Had slavery, amongst the ancients, originated in, and been upheld by,

their laws and governments, it may be fairly presumed that some of

the revolutions which, at various epochs, swept away their laws and

governments would have swept away the institution of slavery amongst

the rest. Whatever is forced upon a decided majority of any people, by

the will of a minority, can be upheld only by fraud and coercion. Had

these been the conditions of slavery amongst the ancients, it is quite

certain that the moment a successful revolution, from within or from

without, came to break up the authority of rulers in any particular

country, the slaves or bondsmen would, that very moment, seize their

opportunity to emancipate themselves; and if it was the love of

equality or of social justice that made them rise, they would not lay

down their arms till they had established a just social order, based

upon the recognition of _equal rights and equal laws for all_.

Now, there is hardly any ancient state or country we could name

that has not had its revolutions, and that did not witness, at some

period or other, a complete subversion of its government, laws, and

institutes; yet do we find the institution of slavery survive in

all. In no one instance do we find the slaves of a revolutionalized

state avail themselves of such a crisis to establish _the rights of

man as man_. Intestine commotions, military insurrections, foreign

invasions, popular triumphs over kings and senates--these and all other

like incidents in the life of nations invariably passed away without

abolishing the curse of slavery. Why was this? How happened it? Why did

not the slaves of the old pagan world take advantage of some popular

insurrection, or of the overthrow of their rulers by some invader,

to vindicate the rights of humanity in their own persons, by at once

establishing a free government for all, and by abolishing slavery

altogether?

There is but one true and sufficient answer to these questions: it is

this:--The doctrine of human equality, of equality in rights, duties,

and responsibilities, was altogether unknown to the ancients: it was

denied in theory; it was unheard of in practice. With the solitary

exception before adverted to--that of the Essenes (of which more

by-and-by), there is no historical record or monument extant to show

that the slaves of antiquity, as a class, knew or cared anything

about theories of government, much less that they comprehended what a

Frenchman would understand by the words _république démocratique et

sociale_, or what a member of the National Reform League understands

by “the political and social rights of the people.” Nor does there

appear to have been a single writer, teacher, philosopher, legislator,

orator, or poet, amongst the whole heathen world, to inspire the

slave-class with any such notions. On the contrary, the idea that one

class were born to be slaves, and the other to be masters, was an idea

as sedulously inculcated by the educators of ancient society, as it

was implicitly believed in by the slaves themselves. The poet and the

two philosophers who, more than any others of their class, exercised

a moral influence upon the ancient world--to wit, Homer, Plato, and

Aristotle--agreed, to a hair, in considering mankind as naturally

divided into two classes--those made to command and those made to obey,

_alias_ masters and slaves. Homer tell us, formally, in the “Odyssey,”

that Jove gave to slaves but the half of a soul. Plato, when citing

this passage in his “Treatise on Laws,” substitutes the word _mind_

for the Homeric word _virtue_, and adds his authority to that of the

poet, to inculcate that the Father of the Gods bestowed _mind_ and

_virtue_ but by halves upon the children of slavery. Plato is still

more expressive elsewhere. In his dialogue entitled “Alcibiades,” he

makes Socrates teach the same doctrine after his favourite fashion

of question and answer. He makes him ask Alcibiades whether it is

“in the class of nobles or in the class of plebeians that natural

superiority is to be found;” to which the proficient pupil unhesitating

makes answer, “Undoubtedly, in the class of nobles,” or “in those

nobly born.” Aristotle is still more emphatic than Plato in laying

down the theory of human inequality. In one place he goes so far as

to call children “the animated tools of their parents,” signifying

by that, that children are by birth the natural slaves of their

fathers. In his “Treatise on Politics,” he tells us, roundly, that

at the very moment of their birth all created beings are naturally

fashioned, some to obey, and some to command--or, rather, some _to

be commanded_, and the others to command; for it is the same verb he

makes use of in both cases, using the _passive_ mood for the slaves

and the _active_ for the slave-owners. In the same treatise he tells

us, further on, that nature actually makes the bodies of freemen

(genteel folk) different from those of slaves; that the latter are

purposely made robust and hardy for the necessities of labour, whilst

those of gentlemen are made so slight and upright as to be unfit for

physical labour, but well qualified for the business of government.

In citing this passage, we have given an almost literal translation

of the Greek--a translation more expressive of the author’s sense

than a strictly verbal translation would be. The very terms made use

of by Aristotle show clearly his belief that slaves were made to be

slaves, and their masters to govern them. The words we have rendered

by the free translation, “qualified for the business of government,”

mean, “_literally_, availably useful for political life,” which, if

not so intelligible, is stronger and of wider signification than our

translation. At all events, there can be no doubt as to Aristotle’s

meaning. Like Homer and Plato, he was a firm believer in the _duality_

of human nature--that is to say, that slaves were born with one

nature, and their masters with another. Indeed, Plato carried this

creed so far, that he made slavery to consist in the moral and

mental man himself, and not in the servility of his condition as a

slave. A wise man, he contended, could not be made a slave of: the

natural superiority of such a man would rise superior to any, or all,

conditions that might be imposed upon him. Plato lived to have his

doctrine tried in his own person. Dionysius, the tyrant of Sicily, had

him sold for a slave by one Pollio, a Lacedemonian chief; but history

does not say whether Plato the slave held the same opinions on slavery

as Plato the freeman and philosopher. It was one of his maxims that

“a wise and just man could be as happy in a state of slavery as in a

state of freedom.” Dionysius took him at his word, and, tyrant though

he was, we think he served Plato right. The sage who believed in two

natures, one for slaves and another for freemen, and who taught that a

wise and just man could be as happy in slavery as in freedom, deserved

to have such doctrines tried and verified in his own person. Plato had

them tried in his; but, great philosopher as he was, we suspect he must

have found some little difference between slavery and freedom, when

we find him seizing the first opportunity to recover his liberty, and

preferring to live a freeman, in Athens, to living a slave at Ægina.

When such were the opinions of philosophers and poets (whose mission

and function it was to live for other generations and other times them

their own), what may we not expect from the vulgar herd who lived only

for themselves? Their ideas were just what we might expect. High and

low, gentle and simple, rich and poor, freemen and slaves--all, all

believed in the duality of human nature--in the divine origin of kings,

and in the no less divine origin of slavery. On these points the whole

of pagan antiquity appears to have been unanimous. The treatment of

their helots by the Spartans, who, in order to disgust their children

with drunkenness, used to exhibit those unfortunates in a state of

bestial intoxication, speaks volumes for the notions the ancients had

of slaves and slavery. Their occasional decimation of the helots by

wholesale and deliberate slaughter, for no other or better reason than

to thin their ranks and reduce their numbers for their own convenience,

is a still more glaring exemplification. It shows that a slave was a

mere thing--a chattel--a nobody--even a nuisance, if his master only

chose to think him so.

The Elder Cato, who was cried up for his goodness as a master to his

slaves, thought it not unworthy of himself, nor unjust to them, to

keep them always quarrelling with one another, by artfully fomenting

jealousies amongst them. Plutarch tells us, too, that when they got old

and broken down, Cato used to treat them as he (Plutarch) would not use

the ox or the horse that had served him faithfully. He used to sell

them, or dispose of them any way, when there was no more work to be got

out of them. Yet Cato was a model for the gentlemen slave-owners of his

day. He was the Benjamin Franklin of his republic; the Adam Smith of

the Roman political economy of his time. When _he_ behaved so to his

slaves, what must have been the opinions and behaviour of such masters

as were brutes by nature, tyrants by instinct and culture? Seneca

describes one of these worthies to us, under the name of Vedius Pollio,

who, if we are to believe that philosopher, was in the habit of feeding

the fish in his ponds with the flesh of his slaves! It is impossible to

conceive that slaves must not have been considered of a different and

inferior nature, when every description of masters, good and bad, are

found (however differing in their mode of treatment) to deal with them

as with beings having no rights of their own--no rights but what their

masters might choose to confer.

The slaves, on their side, appear to have been perfectly reconciled

to slavery as an institution. The writings of the ancients have left

us nothing to countervail this opinion, but, on the contrary, much

to confirm it. We can nowhere discover any evidence to show that the

slaves of antiquity regarded slavery in any other light than as an

institution natural in itself, and neither unjust nor unreasonable,

provided they (the slaves) were well treated. It is true they often

complained of their lot, and sometimes rebelled, too, in order

to change it; but, in so doing, it is to be observed, they never

complained of slavery _as an institution_, nor invoked the principle of

Equality as the end and object of their complaints or rebellions. Their

complaint was, not that slavery existed, but that they, themselves,

and not others, were the slaves. And when they rebelled, it was not

in order to put down slavery and establish liberty for all; it was to

exchange conditions with their masters, or else to secure their own

freedom at the price of taking away other people’s. The idea of making

common cause with other slaves, in order to emancipate all slaves,

never entered their heads. Principle, or love of equality, had nothing

whatever to do with their movements. The principle of _liberty for

all_ was too sublime an idea for them. Equality before God and the law

was still further beyond them. Slavery, _as a principle_, they had

no fault to find with; they complained only of the _accident_ that

made them slaves and others free. Even of this the vast majority never

complained, because the vast majority (there is reason to believe) were

content with their lot, and satisfied with their masters’ treatment of

them. Indeed, the whole tenour of what we read of in history respecting

slaves leads to this conclusion. The vast majority were content with

their condition. In general they were kindly treated; and as they knew

no other state, and saw nothing unjust or unreasonable in slavery, they

were attached to their masters as to benefactors (regarding them as the

authors of their comfort), and might, mayhap, as a general rule, be

pronounced happy.

The old classics are full of allusions and passages which go to show

the high state of domestic comfort enjoyed by certain descriptions of

slaves, and the free and familiar relations which subsisted between

them and their masters. A kindly and homely sort of intercourse was the

rule; harshness and ill-nature would appear to have been the exception.

Indeed, slaves were regarded so much in the light of mere animals by

masters, and masters so much as demi-gods, or superior beings, by

slaves, that no possible rivalry, jealousy, or misgivings could subsist

between them; but, on the contrary, that sort of mutual confidence,

fidelity, and fondness with which favourite horses and dogs reciprocate

the kindly treatment and caresses of their owners. Whenever we find

slaves breaking out into insurrection, we may be sure it is either

because they have harsh masters, or have been torn from distant homes,

or are being seduced by insurgent chiefs who promise them rapine and

freedom; or because they expect, through a successful insurrection,

to become pirates or robbers, which was the highest occupation of

honour and profit that a slave could aspire to in those days. In these

insurrections, as already observed, equality was never invoked. The

“rights of man” was a profound mystery in the womb of the future. The

insurgents thought of no slavery but their own; and of no other or

better advantages from liberty than the spoils of their masters, and

exchanging conditions with them.

Limiting ourselves, for the moment, to Roman history, we find some six

revolts of slaves recorded by Livy, and some three or four more made

mention of by Aulus Gellius, Tacitus, and others. Livy does not go

much into detail; but, from the little he says, he makes it manifest

that real liberty or equality had nothing to do with any of the six

revolts he treats of. The sixth revolt, which was headed by one Eunus,

a Syrian, is related at greater length by Diodorus of Sicily. And what

does Diodorus show? That Eunus was an impostor, who pretended a mission

from the Syrian Venus, and, ejecting flames from his mouth by means

of a hollow nut that he had filled with lighted sulphur, succeeded in

fanaticising some 2,000 slaves, and inducing them to break loose from

the work-houses. He had soon an army of some 60,000 men, gained several

actions in the course of a long and bloody war, made himself master of

the camps of four prætors; but at last, pressed by increasing numbers,

and forced to shut himself up in the city of Enna with his followers,

he and they, after defending themselves with courage and bravery amid

indescribable difficulties, were at last overpowered, and perished

all, by famine, pestilence, and the sword. This insurrection, which

took place in Sicily, was no sooner quelled than another broke out,

of a similar kind, and upon as large a scale, under the command of a

slave named Athenio, who, after assassinating his master, and causing

all the work-houses to rise in insurrection, had soon as large an army

under his command as Eunus had. Like Eunus, Athenio had some incipient

successes; he stormed and made himself master of two prætorian camps:

like Eunus, however, he had soon to succumb to the united force of

famine and the sword. He perished, with nearly all his followers. The

immediate cause of these two servile wars--which, next to the famous

one under Spartacus, appear to have been the most formidable of their

kind--was the alleged violation of the work-house regulations by the

masters. Indeed, Diodorus testifies, positively and clearly, that the

revolt headed by Athenio arose solely from the inability of the prætor

in Sicily to enforce the laws or regulations which had been made in

favour of the slaves, and which, like our modern factory lords, the

masters were continually seeking to evade. Plutarch lets it appear that

a similar cause provoked the revolt of Spartacus.

Those three revolts, which took place during the last sixty years of

the Republic--namely, the two under Eunus and Athenio, in Sicily,

and the third under Spartacus, in Italy--were the most serious and

destructive of the servile wars recorded of Rome. They had the ablest

commanders, and met with the largest measure of success. In these, if

in any wars of the kind, might we hope to find the dignity of human

nature vindicated by the insurgent bondsmen. There was nothing of the

sort. The harsh conduct of masters and the violation of work-house

rules were the motive powers of each revolt: no higher motive seems,

for a moment, to have actuated the revolters.

The conduct, too, of Eunus and Athenio, during their brief success,

showed how thoroughly undemocratic, and even aristocratic, were their

plans and objects. Instead of setting about the abolition of slavery

and the establishment of equality, they began forthwith to ape the pomp

and circumstance of their oppressors, and to deal with their followers

as though they were little kings, and not fellow-slaves in rebellion.

They wore purple robes and gold chains. Athenio carried a silver staff

in his hand, and had his brow wreathed with a diadem, like a monarch.

Indeed, Florus tells us that, while these adventurers assumed all

the state and airs of royalty, they imitated royalty no less in the

havoc, plunder, and devastations they spread around them. At first they

contented themselves with plundering and pulling down the castles,

villas, and mansions of the aristocrats and master-class; but, this

accomplished, they soon began to exact the same servility from their

followers that they had themselves kicked against. Liberty and equality

were out of the question. Had they succeeded, their wretched followers

would soon have found that they had but exchanged masters.

The revolt under Spartacus is the most horrible of all, because it was

a revolt of men who were gladiators as well as slaves. Liberty or the

rights of man had no more to do with this revolt than with any of the

others. It arose from brutal oppression on the part of one Lentulus

Batiatus, to whom a portion of the insurgents belonged: he was training

them, in fact, that they might combat one another to death in the arena

for his recreation. Neither in its origin, conduct, nor results did

this servile war differ from any of the others. Like all of them, it

originated in private wrongs, was purely personal in its antecedents,

and neither in its progress nor results did it exhibit a single

indication of democratic, philanthropic, or any other virtues than the

usual military ones common to all Romans at the time. In truth, what we

moderns understand by political and social rights (and without which

we know that real liberty cannot exist for any people) was an idea

altogether foreign to every class of Greeks and Romans, and, indeed, to

the whole of antiquity, with the solitary exception of the Essenes.

Thus, _public opinion_ conspired with law and custom to uphold direct

human slavery throughout the ancient world. This opinion must have

been all but universal, since not even slaves in revolt ever dreamt

of abolishing slavery as an institution. They warred against certain

incidents and accidents of slavery; never against the principle itself.

This universality of public opinion in its favour, coupled with the

fact that direct slavery is an evil of far lesser magnitude than

the indirect slavery of modern civilization, we take to be the true

explanation of the old pagan system having endured so long in the world.

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