But it occurred to my thoughts, what call, what occasion, much less what necessity I was in to go and dip my hands in blood, to attack people who had neither done or intended me any wrong? who, as to me, were innocent, and whose barbarous customs were their own disaster, being in them a token, indeed, of God’s having left them, with the other nations of that part of the world, to such stupidity, and to such inhuman courses, but did not call me to take upon me to be a judge of their actions, much less an executioner of His justice—that whenever He thought fit He would take the cause into His own hands, and by national vengeance punish them as a people for national crimes, but that, in the meantime, it was none of my business—that it was true Friday might justify it, because he was a declared enemy and in a state of war with those very particular people, and it was lawful for him to attack them—but I could not say the same with regard to myself.
Mais quel motif, me disais-je, quelle circonstance, quelle nécessité m'oblige à tremper mes mains dans le sang, à attaquer des hommes qui ne m'ont jamais fait aucun tort et qui n'ont nulle intention de m'en faire, des hommes innocents à mon égard? Leur coutume barbare est leur propre malheur; c'est la preuve que Dieu les a abandonnés aussi bien que les autres nations de cette partie du monde à leur stupidité, à leur inhumanité, mais non pas qu'il m'appelle à être le juge de leurs actions, encore moins l'exécuteur de sa justice!