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.
Maar ik bedacht welke roeping, welke reden ik had, laat staan welke noodzakelijkheid er bestond, dat ik mijne handen in bloed zou doopen, en heden aantasten, die mij nimmer eenig leed hadden gedaan, en hiertoe ook geen voornemen hadden; die ten mijnen aanzien schuldeloos waren, en wier barbaarsche zeden hun eigen ongeluk waren, daar dit een teeken was, dat God hen met andere volken van dit werelddeel aan diepe onwetendheid ten prooi had gelaten. Maar dit gaf mij geen regt om over hunne daden het vonnis uit te spreken, veel minder mij tot uitvoerder der goddelijke geregtigheid op te werpen; want zoo God het goedvond zou Hij zelf hen straffen, en door rampen over hun geheele volk te brengen, de zonden des volks bestraffen; maar dit was geenszins eene taak, die mij toekwam.