Doth it present anything but crimes of the
most heinous nature, committed from one end of the world to the
other?
We observe avarice, rapine, and murder, equally prevailing in
all parts. History perpetually tells us of millions of people
abandoned to the caprice of the maddest princes, and of whole
nations devoted to the blind fury of tyrants. Countries destroyed;
nations alternately buried in ruins by other nations; some parts of
the world beautifully cultivated, returned again to the pristine
state; the fruits of ages of industry, the toil of thousands in a
short time destroyed by a few! If one corner breathes in peace for a
few years, it is, in turn subjected, torn, and levelled; one would
almost believe the principles of action in man, considered as the
first agent of this planet, to be poisoned in their most essential
parts. We certainly are not that class of beings which we vainly
think ourselves to be; man an animal of prey, seems to have rapine
and the love of bloodshed implanted in his heart; nay, to hold it
the most honourable occupation in society: we never speak of a hero
of mathematics, a hero of knowledge of humanity; no, this
illustrious appellation is reserved for the most successful butchers
of the world. If Nature has given us a fruitful soil to inhabit, she
has refused us such inclinations and propensities as would afford us
the full enjoyment of it. Extensive as the surface of this planet
is, not one half of it is yet cultivated, not half replenished; she
created man, and placed him either in the woods or plains, and
provided him with passions which must for ever oppose his happiness;
everything is submitted to the power of the strongest; men, like the
elements, are always at war; the weakest yield to the most potent;
force, subtlety, and malice, always triumph over unguarded honesty
and simplicity.
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