70 ONE THOUSAND FAMOUS THINGS
The Man Who Cared
These lines are simple and natural to us now, but in the eighteenth century,
when Cowper wrote them, they were a noble act of courage by one of the few men
who cared about a widespread wrong.
for a"lodge in some vast wilderness.
Some boundless contiguity of shade,
Where rumour of oppression and deceit.
Of unsuccessful or successful war,
Might never reach me more. My ear is pained,
My soul is sick, with every day's report
Of wrong and outrage with which earth is filled.
There is no flesh in man's obdurate heart;
It does not feel for man ; the natural bond
Of brotherhood is severed as the flax
That falls asunder at the touch of fire.
He finds his fellow guilty of a skin
Not coloured like his own ; and, having power
To enforce the wrong, for such a worthy cause
Dooms and devotes him as his lawful prey.
Thus man devotes his brother, and destroys ;
And, worse than all, and most to be deplored,
As human nature's broadest, foulest blot.
Chains him, and tasks him, and exacts his sweat
With stripes that mercy* with a bleeding heart,
Weeps when she sees inflicted on a beast.
Then what is man ? And what man, seeing this,
And having human feelings, does not blush,
And hang his head, to think himself a man ?
I would not have a slave to till my ground,
To carry me, to fan me while I sleep,
And tremble when I wake, for all the wealth
That sinews bought and sold have ever earne^.
No : dear as freedom is, and in my heart's
Just estimation prized above all price,
I had much rather be myself the slave,
And wear the bonds, than fasten them on him.
We have no slaves at home. Then why abroad ?
Slaves cannot breathe in England ; if their lungs
Receive our air, that moment they are free ;
They touch our country, and their shackles fall.
That's noble, and bespeaks a nation proud
And jealous of the blessing. Spread it then,
And let it circulate through every vein
Of all your empire ; that where Britain's power
Is felt mankind may feel her mercy too.
William Cowper