No Abolition of Slavery: Or the Universal Empire of Love, A poem

In Short

This curious pamphlet is a rhymed political argument written in 1791 by James Boswell. It functions as a public rebuke of the abolitionist movement, which the author dismisses as the misguided work of "noodles" and "fools." By contrasting the supposed stability of plantation life with the squalor of London, the poem attempts to normalize human bondage as a form of natural, necessary subordination. It has survived as a historical artifact, offering a glimpse into the defensive, reactionary rhetoric employed by those who resisted the growing momentum of the anti-slavery cause.

The Story

The poem opens as a personal address to an unnamed lady, establishing a tone that blends romantic devotion with aggressive political grievance. The speaker immediately vents his frustration with the British Parliament, specifically targeting the reformers who seek to end the slave trade. He portrays the legislative process as a chaotic and "dull" performance, ridiculing prominent politicians like William Wilberforce and others he deems incapable or overly sentimental. From these opening attacks, the poem shifts into a broader critique of contemporary society, decrying the idea that the "people" should have any say in governance or commerce.

The author directs his vitriol toward the "rabble" and the "ignorant," suggesting that any interference with colonial trade threatens the prosperity of Britain. He pauses to disparage specific political rivals, mocking their intellect, their physical appearance, and their alignment with the abolitionist cause. He saves his most biting commentary for those he believes are betraying the crown or the established church, framing their desire for humanitarian reform as a dangerous "frenzy" that could unspool the fabric of the state.

As the narrative progresses, the speaker attempts to ground his position in an appeal to tradition and religious hierarchy. He asserts that slavery is a divine, immutable feature of the world, and that humans are inherently meant to exist in states of varying "subordination." To bolster this claim, he directs his attention to the streets of London, arguing that the conditions of the poor in the capital are far more wretched than those of enslaved people on plantations. He invites a companion to tour the "blackguard bounds" of the city, using the imagery of urban poverty to justify his defense of the colonial status quo.

The arc of the poem concludes by returning to the central metaphor of love. Having argued that the plantation system provides for the physical needs of its workers, the author pivots to his personal life, casting his own romantic yearning as a form of "slavery." He suggests that since everyone is, in some capacity, a slave to love or to a "beauteous tyrant," the entire debate over the abolition of the slave trade is ultimately secondary to the "universal empire" of human desire. He ends with a final, cynical flourish, suggesting that as long as humanity remains governed by such powerful, intoxicating affections, the structures of dominance—both social and romantic—will persist unchanged.

How It Unfolds

A polemic introduction The poem begins by chiding the "noodles" who call for abolition. The author expresses his contempt for parliamentary reform, setting a tone of weary, reactionary indignation.

Attacking the reformers The speaker systematically insults the men leading the anti-slavery movement, labeling them "dwarfs" and "inefficient" bureaucrats. He mocks their reliance on religious and moral arguments, which he views as a threat to national trade.

Contrasting London with the colonies To justify the plantation system, the poet describes the squalor of the London poor, from scavengers in ash heaps to those living in "smoke-filled sheds." He argues that this suffering proves the necessity of a rigid, hierarchical social order.

A tour of vice The author proposes a walk through the darkest, most dangerous corners of London to witness human degradation firsthand. He uses this grim tour to argue that the "liberty" found in such places is far worse than the controlled life of a plantation.

The final romantic turn The poem moves away from political debate to focus on the author’s own amorous enslavement to his "charming friend." He concludes that because everyone is a slave to love, the abolition of the slave trade is an unnecessary and vain pursuit.

The People

The speaker is a curmudgeonly, staunchly Tory figure who prides himself on his loyalty to the crown and his disdain for modern "sentimental" politics. He is motivated by a desire to preserve the status quo and feels deeply threatened by the shifting tide of public opinion. His primary obstacle is the rising influence of reformers like William Wilberforce, whom he views as a "dwarf" of intellect.

The "Miss" to whom the poem is addressed acts as the speaker's romantic anchor. She is the "beauteous tyrant" whose favor he craves, and she serves as the mirror for his own definitions of mastery and submission. She does not speak, but her presence allows the author to rationalize his own feelings of being "bound" as a natural, almost poetic condition of existence.

Various politicians, such as William Pitt and Charles James Fox, appear as targets of the author’s biting wit. Pitt is acknowledged for his power but scolded for his "foolish" concessions to the reformers, while Fox is dismissed as a failed politician whose time has passed. These figures represent the political instability that the author fears, and his treatment of them reveals his belief that the nation’s leaders are being led astray by the clamor of the common people.

In Its Own Voice

"Noodles, who rave for abolition / Of th' African's improv'd condition, / At your own cost fine projects try; / Dont rob--from pure humanity."

The speaker dismisses the efforts of reformers, suggesting they are sacrificing the property of others for the sake of their own moral vanity.

"From wise subordination's plan / Springs the chief happiness of man; / Yet from that source to numbers flow / Varieties of pain and woe."

The author outlines his core philosophical justification for the existence of social hierarchy and slavery, suggesting that human misery is an inevitable byproduct of a necessary order.

"For, Slavery there must ever be, / While we have Mistresses like thee!"

In the poem’s final lines, the author equates political servitude with the romantic devotion he feels for his companion, framing both as inescapable conditions.

What It's Really About

At its heart, the poem is a defense of power. It is an argument against the idea of universal human rights, which the author views as a "barren show" performed by fools. The underlying tension is between a world governed by tradition and rigid hierarchy, and a new, frightening world of democratic reform. By framing the abolition of the slave trade as a threat to the nation's "West-Indian" prosperity and the stability of the crown, the poem seeks to equate the preservation of slavery with the preservation of British society itself. It suggests that if one stone—the "subordination" of the slave—is removed, the entire edifice of power will collapse.

Why Read It Today

Readers should approach this work as a primary-source artifact of the reactionary mind. There is no joy to be found in its politics, which are rooted in a cold, dismissive view of human suffering. The language is dense with 18th-century allusions, footnotes, and the vitriolic, often petty, insults characteristic of the period’s political pamphlets. If you are interested in the history of the abolitionist movement, this book provides an essential, if deeply uncomfortable, look at the arguments used by those who fought to maintain the status quo.

The experience of reading it is jarring; you are essentially sitting across from a man who is actively trying to justify the indefensible using the tools of poetry and wit. You will encounter the casual racism of the era, the sharp edges of the author's ego, and a desperate, clinging defense of institutions that were already beginning to crumble. It is a text that reveals the limits of "gentlemanly" discourse when confronted with a moral crisis. It will not change your mind, but it will certainly sharpen your understanding of the intense, bitter, and often absurd nature of the resistance that reformers had to overcome.