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Title: The Works of Daniel Webster, Volume 1
Author: Webster, Daniel, 1782-1852
Language: English
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THE WORKS OF DANIEL WEBSTER.
VOLUME I.
EIGHTH EDITION
BOSTON:
LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY.
1854.
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1851, by GEORGE W.
GORDON AND JAMES W. PAIGE, in the Clerk's Office of the District Court
of the District of Massachusetts.
CAMBRIDGE:
STEREOTYPED BY METCALF AND COMPANY,
PRINTERS TO THE UNIVERSITY.
PRINTED AT HOUGHTON AND HAYWOOD
[Illustration: _Daniel Webster_]
DEDICATION
OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
TO MY NIECES,
MRS. ALICE BRIDGE WHIPPLE,
AND
MRS. MARY ANN SANBORN:
Many of the Speeches contained in this volume were delivered and printed
in the lifetime of your father whose fraternal affection led him to
speak of them with approbation.
His death, which happened when he had only just past the middle period
of life, left you without a father, and me without a brother.
I dedicate this volume to you, not only for the love I have for
yourselves, but also as a tribute of affection to his memory, and from a
desire that the name of my brother,
EZEKIEL WEBSTER,
may be associated with mine, so long as any thing written or spoken by
me shall be regarded or read.
DANIEL WEBSTER.
CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME.
PAGE
BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR.
CHAPTER I. xiii
Former Editions of the Works of Mr. Webster, and Plan of
this Edition.--Parentage and Birth.--First Settlements
in the Interior of New Hampshire.--Establishment of his
Father at Salisbury.--Scanty Opportunities of Early
Education.--First Teachers, and recent Letter to Master
Tappan.--Placed at Exeter Academy.--Anecdotes while
there.--Dartmouth College.--Study of the Law at
Salisbury.--Residence at Fryeburg in Maine, and
Occupations there.--Continuance of the Study of the Law
at Boston, in the Office of Hon. Christopher
Gore.--Admission to the Bar of Suffolk,
Massachusetts.--Commencement of Practice at Boscawen,
New Hampshire.--Removal to Portsmouth.--Contemporaries
in the Profession.--Increasing Practice.
CHAPTER II. xxxiii
Entrance on Public Life.--State of Parties in
1812.--Election to Congress.--Extra Session of
1813.--Foreign Relations of the Country.--Resolutions
relative to the Berlin and Milan Decrees.--Naval
Defence.--Reelected to Congress in 1814.--Peace with
England.--Projects for a National Bank.--Mr. Webster's
Course on that Question.--Battle of New Orleans.--New
Questions arising on the Return of Peace.--Course of
Prominent Men of Different Parties.--Mr. Webster's
Opinions on the Constitutionality of the Tariff
Policy.--The Resolution to restore Specie Payments
moved by Mr. Webster.--Removal to Boston.
CHAPTER III. xlviii
Professional Character particularly in Reference to
Constitutional Law.--The Dartmouth College Case argued
at Washington in 1818.--Mr. Ticknor's Description of
that Argument.--The Case of Gibbons and Ogden in
1824.--Mr. Justice Wayne's Allusion to that Case in
1847.--The Case of Ogden and Saunders in 1827.--The
Case of the Proprietors of the Charles River
Bridge.--The Alabama Bank Case.--The Case relative to
the Boundary between Massachusetts and Rhode
Island.--The Girard Will Case.--The Case of the
Constitution of Rhode Island.--General Remarks on Mr.
Webster's Practice in the Supreme Court of the United
States.--Practice in the State Courts.--The Case of
Goodridge,--and the Case of Knapp.
CHAPTER IV. lx
The Convention to revise the Constitution of
Massachusetts.--John Adams a Delegate.--Mr. Webster's
Share in its Proceedings.--Speeches on Oaths of Office,
Basis of Senatorial Representation, and Independence of
the Judiciary.--Centennial Anniversary at Plymouth on
the 22d of December, 1820.--Discourse delivered by Mr.
Webster.--Bunker Hill Monument, and Address by Mr.
Webster on the Laying of the Corner-Stone, 17th of
June, 1825.--Discourse on the Completion of the
Monument, 17th of June, 1843.--Simultaneous Decease of
Adams and Jefferson on the 4th of July, 1826.--Eulogy
by Mr. Webster in Faneuil Hall.--Address at the Laying
of the Corner-Stone of the New Wing of the
Capitol.--Remarks on the Patriotic Discourses of Mr.
Webster, and on the Character of his Eloquence in
Efforts of this Class.
CHAPTER V. lxxii
Election to Congress from Boston.--State of
Parties.--Meeting of the Eighteenth Congress.--Mr.
Webster's Resolution and Speech in favor of the
Greeks.--Argument in the Supreme Court in the Case of
Gibbons and Ogden.--Circumstances under which it was
made.--Speech on the Tariff Law of 1824.--A complete
Revision of the Law for the Punishment of Crimes
against the United States reported by Mr. Webster, and
enacted.--The Election of Mr. Adams as President of the
United States.--Meeting of the Nineteenth Congress, and
State of Parties.--Congress of Panama, and Mr.
Webster's Speech on that Subject.--Election as a
Senator of the United States.--Revision of the Tariff
Law by the Twentieth Congress.--Embarrassments of the
Question.--Mr. Webster's Course and Speech on this
Subject.
CHAPTER VI. lxxxvii
Election of General Jackson.--Debate on Foot's
Resolution.--Subject of the Resolution, and Objects
of its Mover.--Mr. Hayne's First Speech.--Mr.
Webster's original Participation in the Debate
unpremeditated.--His First Speech.--Reply of Mr. Hayne
with increased Asperity.--Mr. Webster's Great
Speech.--Its Threefold Object.--Description of the
Manner of Mr. Webster in the Delivery of this
Speech, from Mr. March's "Reminiscences of
Congress."--Reception of his Speech throughout the
Country.--The Dinner at New York.--Chancellor
Kent's Remarks.--Final Disposal of Foot's
Resolution.--Report of Mr. Webster's Speech.--Mr.
Healey's Painting.
CHAPTER VII. ci
General Character of President Jackson's
Administrations.--Speedy Discord among the Parties
which had united for his Elevation.--Mr. Webster's
Relations to the Administration.--Veto of the
Bank.--Rise and Progress of Nullification in South
Carolina.--The Force Bill, and the Reliance of
General Jackson's Administration on Mr. Webster's
Aid.--His Speech in Defence of the Bill, and in
Opposition to Mr. Calhoun's Resolutions.--Mr.
Madison's Letter on Secession.--The Removal of the
Deposits.--Motives for that Measure.--The
Resolution of the Senate disapproving it.--The
President's Protest.--Mr. Webster's Speech on the
Subject of the Protest.--Opinions of Chancellor Kent
and Mr. Tazewell.--The Expunging Resolution.--Mr.
Webster's Protest against it.--Mr. Van Buren's
Election.--The Financial Crisis and the Extra
Session of Congress.--The Government Plan of Finance
supported by Mr. Calhoun and opposed by Mr.
Webster.--Personalities.--Mr. Webster's Visit to
Europe and distinguished Reception.--The
Presidential Canvass of 1840.--Election of General
Harrison.
CHAPTER VIII. cxix
Critical State of Foreign Affairs on the Accession of
General Harrison.--Mr. Webster appointed to the State
Department.--Death of General Harrison.--Embarrassed
Relations with England.--Formation of Sir Robert
Peel's Ministry, and Appointment of Lord Ashburton as
Special Minister to the United States.--Course
pursued by Mr. Webster in the Negotiations.--The
Northeastern Boundary.--Peculiar Difficulties in
its Settlement happily overcome.--Other Subjects of
Negotiation.--Extradition of Fugitives from
Justice.--Suppression of the Slave-Trade on the
Coast of Africa.--History of that Question.--Affair
of the Caroline.--Impressment.--Other Subjects
connected with the Foreign Relations of the
Government.--Intercourse with China.--Independence
of the Sandwich Islands.--Correspondence with
Mexico.--Sound Duties and the Zoll-Verein.--Importance
of Mr. Webster's Services as Secretary of State.
CHAPTER IX. cxliii
Mr. Webster resigns his Place in Mr. Tyler's
Cabinet.--Attempts to draw public Attention to the
projected Annexation of Texas.--Supports Mr. Clay's
Nomination for the Presidency.--Causes of the Failure
of that Nomination.--Mr. Webster returns to the Senate
of the United States.--Admission of Texas to the
Union.--The War with Mexico.--Mr. Webster's Course in
Reference to the War.--Death of Major Webster in
Mexico.--Mr. Webster's unfavorable Opinion of the
Mexican Government.--Settlement of the Oregon
Controversy.--Mr. Webster's Agency in effecting the
Adjustment.--Revival of the Sub-Treasury System and
Repeal of the Tariff Law of 1842.--Southern
Tour.--Success of the Mexican War and Acquisition of
the Mexican Provinces.--Efforts in Congress to organize
a Territorial Government for these Provinces.--Great
Exertions of Mr. Webster on the last Night of the
Session.--Nomination of General Taylor, and Course of
Mr. Webster in Reference to it.--A Constitution of
State Government adopted by California prohibiting
Slavery.--Increase of Antislavery Agitation.--Alarming
State of Affairs.--Mr. Webster's Speech for the
Union.--Circumstances under which it was made, and
Motives by which he was influenced.--General Taylor's
Death, and the Accession of Mr. Fillmore to the
Presidency.--Mr. Webster called to the Department of
State.
SPEECHES DELIVERED ON VARIOUS PUBLIC OCCASIONS.
First Settlement of New England 1
The Bunker Hill Monument 55
The Completion of the Bunker Hill Monument 79
Adams and Jefferson 109
The Election of 1825 151
Dinner at Faneuil Hall 161
The Boston Mechanics' Institution 175
Public Dinner at New York 191
The Character of Washington. 217
National Republican Convention at Worcester 235
Reception at Buffalo 279
Reception at Pittsburg 285
Reception at Bangor 307
Presentation of a Vase 317
Reception at New York 337
Reception at Wheeling 381
Reception at Madison 395
Public Dinner in Faneuil Hall 411
Royal Agricultural Society 433
The Agriculture of England 441
BIOGRAPHICAL MEMOIR OF THE PUBLIC LIFE OF DANIEL WEBSTER.
BY EDWARD EVERETT.
[Illustration: _Birth Place of Daniel Webster, Salisbury NH_]
CHAPTER I.
Former Editions of the Works of Mr. Webster, and Plan of this
Edition.--Parentage and Birth.--First Settlements in the
Interior of New Hampshire.--Establishment of his Father at
Salisbury.--Scanty Opportunities of Early Education.--First
Teachers, and recent Letter to Master Tappan.--Placed at Exeter
Academy.--Anecdotes while there.--Dartmouth College.--Study of
the Law at Salisbury.--Residence at Fryeburg in Maine, and
Occupations there.--Continuance of the Study of the Law at Boston,
in the Office of Hon. Christopher Gore.--Admission to the Bar of
Suffolk, Massachusetts.--Commencement of Practice at Boscawen,
New Hampshire.--Removal to Portsmouth.--Contemporaries in the
Profession.--Increasing Practice.
The first collection of Mr. Webster's speeches in the Congress of the
United States and on various public occasions was published in Boston,
in one volume octavo, in 1830. This volume was more than once reprinted,
and in 1835 a second volume was published, containing the speeches made
up to that time, and not included in the first collection. Several
impressions of these two volumes were called for by the public. In 1843
a third volume was prepared, containing a selection from the speeches of
Mr. Webster from the year 1835 till his entrance into the cabinet of
General Harrison. In the year 1848 appeared a fourth volume of
diplomatic papers, containing a portion of Mr. Webster's official
correspondence as Secretary of State.
The great favor with which these volumes have been received throughout
the country, and the importance of the subjects discussed in the Senate
of the United States after Mr. Webster's return to that body in 1845,
have led his friends to think that a valuable service would be rendered
to the community by bringing together his speeches of a later date than
those contained in the third volume of the former collection, and on
political subjects arising since that time. Few periods of our history
will be entitled to be remembered by events of greater moment, such as
the admission of Texas to the Union, the settlement of the Oregon
controversy, the Mexican war, the acquisition of California and other
Mexican provinces, and the exciting questions which have grown out of
the sudden extension of the territory of the United States. Rarely have
public discussions been carried on with greater earnestness, with more
important consequences visibly at stake, or with greater ability. The
speeches made by Mr. Webster in the Senate, and on public occasions of
various kinds, during the progress of these controversies, are more than
sufficient to fill two new volumes. The opportunity of their collection
has been taken by the enterprising publishers, in compliance with
opinions often expressed by the most respectable individuals, and with a
manifest public demand, to bring out a new edition of Mr. Webster's
speeches in uniform style. Such is the object of the present
publication. The first two volumes contain the speeches delivered by him
on a great variety of public occasions, commencing with his discourse at
Plymouth in December, 1820. Three succeeding volumes embrace the greater
part of the speeches delivered in the Massachusetts Convention and in
the two houses of Congress, beginning with the speech on the Bank of the
United States in 1816. The sixth and last volume contains the legal
arguments and addresses to the jury, the diplomatic papers, and letters
addressed to various persons on important political questions.
The collection does not embrace the entire series of Mr. Webster's
writings. Such a series would have required a larger number of volumes
than was deemed advisable with reference to the general circulation of
the work. A few juvenile performances have accordingly been omitted, as
not of sufficient importance or maturity to be included in the
collection. Of the earlier speeches in Congress, some were either not
reported at all, or in a manner too imperfect to be preserved without
doing injustice to the author. No attempt has been made to collect from
the contemporaneous newspapers or Congressional registers the short
conversational speeches and remarks made by Mr. Webster, as by other
prominent members of Congress, in the progress of debate, and sometimes
exercising greater influence on the result than the set speeches. Of the
addresses to public meetings it has been found impossible to embrace
more than a selection, without swelling the work to an unreasonable
size. It is believed, however, that the contents of these volumes
furnish a fair specimen of Mr. Webster's opinions and sentiments on all
the subjects treated, and of his manner of discussing them. The
responsibility of deciding what should be omitted and what included has
been left by Mr. Webster to the friends having the charge of the
publication, and his own opinion on details of this kind has rarely been
taken.
In addition to such introductory notices as were deemed expedient
relative to the occasions and subjects of the various speeches, it has
been thought advisable that the collection should be accompanied with a
Biographical Memoir, presenting a condensed view of Mr. Webster's public
career, with a few observations by way of commentary on the principal
speeches. Many things which might otherwise fitly be said in such an
essay must, it is true, be excluded by that delicacy which qualifies the
eulogy to be awarded even to the most eminent living worth. Much may be
safely omitted, as too well known to need repetition in this community,
though otherwise pertaining to a full survey of Mr. Webster's career. In
preparing the following notice, free use has been made by the writer of
the biographical sketches already before the public. Justice, however,
requires that a specific acknowledgment should be made to an article in
the American Quarterly Review for June, 1831, written, with equal
accuracy and elegance, by Mr. George Ticknor, and containing a
discriminating estimate of the speeches embraced in the first
collection; and also to the highly spirited and vigorous work entitled
"Reminiscences of Congress," by Mr. Charles W. March. To this work the
present sketch is largely indebted for the account of the parentage and
early life of Mr. Webster; as well as for a very graphic description of
the debate on Foot's resolution.
* * * * *
The family of Daniel Webster has been established in America from a very
early period. It was of Scottish origin, but passed some time in England
before the final emigration. Thomas Webster, the remotest ancestor who
can be traced, was settled at Hampton, on the coast of New Hampshire, as
early as 1636, sixteen years after the landing at Plymouth, and six
years from the arrival of Governor Winthrop in Massachusetts Bay. The
descent from Thomas Webster to Daniel can be traced in the church and
town records of Hampton, Kingston (now East Kingston), and Salisbury.
These records and the mouldering headstones of village grave-yards are
the herald's office of the fathers of New England. Noah Webster, the
learned author of the American Dictionary of the English Language, was
of a collateral branch of the family.
Ebenezer Webster, the father of Daniel, is still recollected in Kingston
and Salisbury. His personal appearance was striking. He was erect, of
athletic stature, six feet high, broad and full in the chest. Long
service in the wars had given him a military air and carriage. He
belonged to that intrepid border race, which lined the whole frontier of
the Anglo-American colonies, by turns farmers, huntsmen, and soldiers,
and passing their lives in one long struggle with the hardships of an
infant settlement, on the skirts of a primeval forest. Ebenezer Webster
enlisted early in life as a common soldier, in one of those formidable
companies of rangers, which rendered such important services under Sir
Jeffrey Amherst and Wolfe in the Seven Years' War. He followed the
former distinguished leader in the invasion of Canada, attracted the
attention and gained the good-will of his superior officers by his brave
and faithful conduct, and rose to the rank of a captain before the end
of the war.
For the first half of the last century the settlements of New Hampshire
had made but little progress into the interior. Every war between France
and Great Britain in Europe was the signal of an irruption of the
Canadian French and their Indian allies into New England. As late as
1755 they sacked villages on the Connecticut River, and John Stark,
while hunting on Baker's River, three years before, was taken a prisoner
and sold as a slave into Canada. One can scarcely believe that it is not
yet a hundred years since occurrences like these took place. The cession
of Canada to England by the treaty of 1763 entirely changed this state
of things. It opened the pathways of the forest and the gates of the
Western hills. The royal governor of New Hampshire, Benning Wentworth,
began to make grants of land in the central parts of the State. Colonel
Stevens of Kingston, with some of his neighbors, mostly retired officers
and soldiers, obtained a grant of the town of Salisbury, which was at
first called Stevenstown, from the principal grantee. This town is
situated exactly at the point where the Merrimack River is formed by the
confluence of the Pemigewasset and Winnipiseogee. Captain Webster was
one of the settlers of the newly granted township, and received an
allotment in its northerly portion. More adventurous than others of the
company, he cut his way deeper into the wilderness, and made the path he
could not find. At this time his nearest civilized neighbors on the
northwest were at Montreal.
The following allusion of Mr. Webster to his birthplace will be read
with interest. It is from a speech delivered before a great public
assembly at Saratoga, in the year 1840.
"It did not happen to me to be born in a log cabin; but my elder
brothers and sisters were born in a log cabin, raised amid the
snowdrifts of New Hampshire, at a period so early that, when the
smoke first rose from its rude chimney, and curled over the frozen
hills, there was no similar evidence of a white man's habitation
between it and the settlements on the rivers of Canada. Its remains
still exist. I make to it an annual visit. I carry my children to it
to teach them the hardships endured by the generations which have
gone before them. I love to dwell on the tender recollections, the
kindred ties, the early affections, and the touching narratives and
incidents, which mingle with all I know of this primitive family
abode. I weep to think that none of those who inhabited it are now
among the living; and if ever I am ashamed of it, or if I ever fail
in affectionate veneration for HIM who reared and defended it
against savage violence and destruction, cherished all the domestic
virtues beneath its roof, and, through the fire and blood of seven
years' revolutionary war, shrunk from no danger, no toil, no
sacrifice, to serve his country, and to raise his children to a
condition better than his own, may my name and the name of my
posterity be blotted for ever from the memory of mankind!"
Soon after his settlement in Salisbury, the first wife of Ebenezer
Webster having deceased, he married Abigail Eastman, who became the
mother of Ezekiel and Daniel Webster, the only sons of the second
marriage. Like the mothers of so many men of eminence, she was a
woman of more than ordinary intellect, and possessed a force of
character which was felt throughout the humble circle in which she
moved. She was proud of her sons and ambitious that they should excel.
Her anticipations went beyond the narrow sphere in which their lot
seemed to be cast, and the distinction attained by both, and especially
by the younger, may well be traced in part to her early promptings
and judicious guidance.
About the time of his second marriage, Captain Ebenezer Webster erected
a frame house hard by the log cabin. He dug a well near it and planted
an elm sapling. In this house Daniel Webster was born. It has long since
disappeared, but the spot where it stood is well known, and is covered
by a house since built. The cellar of the log cabin is still visible,
though partly filled with the accumulations of seventy years. "The well
still remains," says Mr. March, "with water as pure, as cool, and as
limpid as when first brought to light, and will remain in all
probability for ages, to refresh hereafter the votaries of genius who
make their pilgrimage hither, to visit the cradle of one of her greatest
sons. The elm that shaded the boy still flourishes in vigorous leaf, and
may have an existence beyond its perishable nature. Like
'The witch-elm that guards St. Fillan's spring,'
it may live in story long after leaf, and branch, and root have
disappeared for ever."
The interval between the peace of 1763 and the breaking out of the war
of the Revolution was one of excitement and anxiety throughout the
Colonies. The great political questions of the day were not only
discussed in the towns and cities, but in the villages and hamlets.
Captain Webster took a deep interest in those discussions. Like so many
of the officers and soldiers of the former war, he obeyed the first call
to arms in the new struggle. He commanded a company, chiefly composed of
his own townspeople, friends, and kindred, who followed him through the
greater portion of the war. He was at the battle of White Plains, and
was at West Point when the treason of Arnold was discovered. He acted as
a Major under Stark at Bennington, and contributed his share to the
success of that eventful day.
In the last year of the Revolutionary war, on the 18th of January, 1782,
Daniel Webster was born, in the home which his father had established
on the outskirts of civilization. If the character and situation of
the place, and the circumstances under which he passed the first years
of his life, might seem adverse to the early cultivation of his
extraordinary talent, it still cannot be doubted that they possessed
influences favorable to elevation and strength of character. The
hardships of an infant settlement and border life, the traditions of
a long series of Indian wars, and of two mighty national contests, in
which an honored parent had borne his part, the anecdotes of Fort
William Henry, of Quebec, of Bennington, of West Point, of Wolfe and
Stark and Washington, the great Iliad and Odyssey of American
Independence,--this was the fireside entertainment of the long winter
evenings of the secluded village home. Abroad, the uninviting
landscape, the harsh and craggy outline of the hills broken and relieved
only by the funereal hemlock and the "cloud seeking" pine, the
lowlands traversed in every direction by unbridged streams, the tall,
charred trunks in the cornfields, that told how stern had been the
struggle with the boundless woods, and, at the close of the year, the
dismal scene which presents itself in high latitudes in a thinly
settled region, when
"the snows descend; and, foul and fierce,
All winter drives along the darkened air";--
these are circumstances to leave an abiding impression on the mind of a
thoughtful child, and induce an early maturity of character.
Mr. March has described an incident of Mr. Webster's earliest youth in a
manner so graphical, that we are tempted to repeat it in his own
words:--
"In Mr. Webster's earliest youth an occurrence of such a nature took
place, which affected him deeply at the time, and has dwelt in his
memory ever since. There was a sudden and extraordinary rise in the
Merrimack River, in a spring thaw. A deluge of rain for two whole
days poured down upon the houses. A mass of mingled water and snow
rushed madly from the hills, inundating the fields far and wide. The
highways were broken up, and rendered undistinguishable. There was
no way for neighbors to interchange visits of condolence or
necessity, save by boats, which came up to the very door-steps of
the houses.
"Many things of value were swept away, even things of bulk. A large
barn, full fifty feet by twenty, crowded with hay and grain, sheep,
chickens, and turkeys, sailed majestically down the river, before
the eyes of the astonished inhabitants; who, no little frightened,
got ready to fly to the mountains, or construct another ark.
"The roar of waters, as they rushed over precipices, casting the
foam and spray far above, the crashing of the forest-trees as the
storm broke through them, the immense sea everywhere in range of the
eye, the sublimity, even danger, of the scene, made an indelible
impression upon the mind of the youthful observer.
"Occurrences and scenes like these excite the imaginative faculty,
furnish material for proper thought, call into existence new
emotions, give decision to character, and a purpose to action."--pp.
7, 8.
It may well be supposed that Mr. Webster's early opportunities for
education were very scanty. It is indeed correctly remarked by Mr.
Ticknor, in reference to this point, that "in New England, ever since
the first free school was established amidst the woods that covered the
peninsula of Boston in 1636, the schoolmaster has been found on the
border line between savage and civilized life, often indeed with an axe
to open his own path, but always looked up to with respect, and always
carrying with him a valuable and preponderating influence." Still,
however, compared with any thing that would be called a good school in
this region and at the present time, the schools which existed on the
frontier sixty years ago were sadly defective. Many of our district
schools even now are below their reputation. The Swedish Chancellor's
exclamation of wonder at the little wisdom with which the world is
governed, might well be repeated at the little learning and skill with
which the scholastic world in too many parts of our country is still
taught. In Mr. Webster's boyhood it was much worse. Something that was
called a school was kept for two or three months in the winter,
frequently by an itinerant, too often a pretender, claiming only to
teach a little reading, writing, and ciphering, and wholly incompetent
to give any valuable assistance to a clever youth in learning either.
Such as the village school was, Mr. Webster enjoyed its advantages, if
they could be called by that name. It was, however, of a migratory
character. When it was near his father's residence it was easy to
attend; but it was sometimes in a distant part of the town, and
sometimes in another town. While he was quite young, he was daily sent
two miles and a half or three miles to school in mid-winter and on
foot. If the school-house lay in the same direction with the miller or
the blacksmith, an occasional ride might be hoped for. If the school was
removed to a still greater distance, he was boarded at a neighbor's.
Poor as these opportunities of education were, they were bestowed on Mr.
Webster more liberally than on his brothers. He showed a greater
eagerness for learning; and he was thought of too frail a constitution
for any robust pursuit. An older half-brother good-humoredly said, that
"Dan was sent to school that he might get to know as much as the other
boys." It is probable that the best part of his education was derived
from the judicious and experienced father, and the strong-minded,
affectionate, and ambitious mother.
Mr. Webster's first master was Thomas Chase. He could read tolerably
well, and wrote a fair hand; but spelling was not his _forte_. His
second master was James Tappan, now living at an advanced age in
Gloucester, Massachusetts. His qualifications as a teacher far exceeded
those of Master Chase. The worthy veteran, now dignified with the title
of Colonel, feels a pride, it may well be supposed, in the fame of his
quondam pupil. He lately addressed a letter to him, recounting some of
the incidents of his own life since he taught school at Salisbury. This
unexpected communication from his aged teacher drew from Mr. Webster the
following answer, in which a handsome gratuity was inclosed, more,
probably, than the old gentleman ever received for a winter's teaching
at "New Salisbury."[1]
"_Washington, February 26, 1851._
"MASTER TAPPAN,--I thank you for your letter, and am rejoiced to
know that you are among the living. I remember you perfectly well as
a teacher of my infant years. I suppose my mother must have taught
me to read very early, as I have never been able to recollect the
time when I could not read the Bible. I think Master Chase was my
earliest schoolmaster, probably when I was three or four years old.
Then came Master Tappan. You boarded at our house, and sometimes, I
think, in the family of Mr. Benjamin Sanborn, our neighbor, the lame
man. Most of those whom you knew in 'New Salisbury' have gone to
their graves. Mr. John Sanborn, the son of Benjamin, is yet living,
and is about your age. Mr. John Colby, who married my oldest
sister, Susannah, is also living. On the 'North Road' is Mr.
Benjamin Hunton, and on the 'South Road' is Mr. Benjamin Pettengil.
I think of none else among the living whom you would probably
remember.
"You have indeed lived a checkered life. I hope you have been able
to bear prosperity with meekness, and adversity with patience. These
things are all ordered for us far better than we could order them
for ourselves. We may pray for our daily bread; we may pray for the
forgiveness of sins; we may pray to be kept from temptation, and
that the kingdom of God may come, in us, and in all men, and his
will everywhere be done. Beyond this, we hardly know for what good
to supplicate the Divine Mercy. Our Heavenly Father knoweth what we
have need of better than we know ourselves, and we are sure that his
eye and his loving-kindness are upon us and around us every moment.
"I thank you again my good old schoolmaster, for your kind letter,
which has awakened many sleeping recollections; and, with all good
wishes, I remain your friend and pupil,
"DANIEL WEBSTER.
To "MR. JAMES TAPPAN."
He derived, also, no small benefit from the little social library,
which, chiefly by the exertions of Mr. Thompson (the intelligent lawyer
of the place), the clergyman, and Mr. Webster's father, had been founded
in Salisbury. The attention of the people of New Hampshire had been
called to this mode of promoting general and popular education by Dr.
Belknap. In the patriotic address to the people of New Hampshire, at the
close of his excellent History, he says:--
"This (the establishment of social libraries) is the easiest, the
cheapest, and the most effectual mode of diffusing knowledge among
the people. For the sum of six or eight dollars at once, and a small
annual payment besides, a man may be supplied with the means of
literary improvement during his life, and his children may inherit
the blessing."[2]
From the village library at Salisbury, founded on recommendations like
these, Mr. Webster was able to obtain a moderate supply of good reading.
It is quite worth noticing, that his attention, like that of Franklin,
was in early boyhood attracted to the Spectator. Franklin, as is well
known, studiously formed his style on that of Addison;--and a
considerable resemblance may be traced between them. There is no such
resemblance between Mr. Webster's style and that of Addison, unless it
be the negative merit of freedom from balanced sentences, hard words,
and inversions. It may, no doubt, have been partly owing to his early
familiarity with the Spectator, that he escaped in youth from the
turgidity and pomp of the Johnsonian school, and grew up to the mastery
of that direct and forcible, but not harsh and affected sententiousness,
that masculine simplicity, with which his speeches and writings are so
strongly marked.
The year before Mr. Webster was born was rendered memorable in New
Hampshire by the foundation of the Academy at Exeter, through the
munificence of the Honorable John Phillips. His original endowment is
estimated by Dr. Belknap at nearly ten thousand pounds, which, in the
comparative scarcity of money in 1781, cannot be considered as less than
three times that amount at the present day. Few events are more likely
to be regarded as eras in the history of that State. In the year 1788,
Dr. Benjamin Abbot, soon afterwards its principal, became connected with
the Academy as an instructor, and from that time it assumed the rank
which it still maintains among the schools of the country. To this
Academy Mr. Webster was taken by his father in May, 1796. He enjoyed the
advantage of only a few months' instruction in this excellent school;
but, short as the period was, his mind appears to have received an
impulse of a most genial and quickening character. Nothing could be more
graceful or honorable to both parties than the tribute paid by Mr.
Webster to his ancient instructor, at the festival at Exeter, in 1838,
in honor of Dr. Abbot's jubilee. While at the Academy, his studies were
aided and his efforts encouraged by a pupil younger than himself, but
who, having enjoyed better advantages of education in boyhood, was now
in the senior class at Exeter, the early celebrated and lamented Joseph
Stevens Buckminster. The following anecdote from Mr. March's work will
not be thought out of place in this connection:--
"It may appear somewhat singular that the greatest orator of modern
times should have evinced in his boyhood the strongest antipathy to
public declamation. This fact, however, is established by his own
words, which have recently appeared in print. 'I believe,' says Mr.
Webster, 'I made tolerable progress in most branches which I
attended to while in this school; but there was one thing I could
not do. I could not make a declamation. I could not speak before the
school. The kind and excellent Buckminster sought especially to
persuade me to perform the exercise of declamation, like other boys,
but I could not do it. Many a piece did I commit to memory, and
recite and rehearse in my own room, over and over again; yet when
the day came, when the school collected to hear declamations, when
my name was called, and I saw all eyes turned to my seat, I could
not raise myself from it. Sometimes the instructors frowned,
sometimes they smiled. Mr. Buckminster always pressed and entreated,
most winningly, that I would venture. But I never could command
sufficient resolution.' Such diffidence of its own powers may be
natural to genius, nervously fearful of being unable to reach that
ideal which it proposes as the only full consummation of its wishes.
It is fortunate, however, for the age, fortunate for all ages, that
Mr. Webster by determined will and frequent trial overcame this
moral incapacity, as his great prototype, the Grecian orator,
subdued his physical defect."--pp. 12, 13.
The effect produced, even at that early period of Mr. Webster's life, on
the mind of a close observer of his mental powers, is strikingly
illustrated by the following anecdote. Mr. Nicholas Emery, afterwards a
distinguished lawyer and judge, and now living in Portland, was
temporarily employed, at that time, as an usher in the Academy. On
entering the Academy, Mr. Webster was placed in the lowest class, which
consisted of half a dozen boys, of no remarkable brightness of
intellect. Mr. Emery was the instructor of this class, among others. At
the end of a month, after morning recitations, "Webster," said Mr.
Emery, "you will pass into the other room and join a higher class"; and
added, "Boys, you will take your final leave of Webster, you will never
see him again."
After a few months well spent at Exeter, Mr. Webster returned home, and
in February, 1797, was placed by his father under the Rev. Samuel Wood,
the minister of the neighboring town of Boscawen. He lived in Mr. Wood's
family, and for board and instruction the entire charge was one dollar
per week.
On their way to Mr. Wood's, Mr. Webster's father first opened to his
son, now fifteen years old, the design of sending him to college, the
thought of which had never before entered his mind. The advantages of a
college education were a privilege to which he had never aspired in
his most ambitious dreams. "I remember," says Mr. Webster, in an
autobiographical memorandum of his boyhood, "the very hill which we
were ascending, through deep snows, in a New England sleigh, when my
father made known this purpose to me. I could not speak. How could he,
I thought, with so large a family and in such narrow circumstances,
think of incurring so great an expense for me. A warm glow ran all
over me, and I laid my head on my father's shoulder and wept."
In truth, a college education was a far different affair fifty years ago
from what it has since become, by the multiplication of collegiate
institutions, and the establishment of public funds in aid of those who
need assistance. It constituted a person at once a member of an
intellectual aristocracy. In many cases it really conferred
qualifications, and in all was supposed to do so, without which
professional and public life could not be entered upon with any hope of
success. In New England, at that time, it was not a common occurrence
that any one attained a respectable position in either of the
professions without this advantage. In selecting the member of the
family who should enjoy this privilege, the choice not unfrequently fell
upon the son whose slender frame and early indications of disease
unfitted him for the laborious life of our New England yeomanry.
From February till August, 1797, Mr. Webster remained under the
instruction of Mr. Wood, at Boscawen, and completed his preparation for
college. It is hardly necessary to say, that the preparation was
imperfect. There is probably no period in the history of the country at
which the standard of classical literature stood lower than it did at
the close of the last century. The knowledge of Greek and Latin brought
by our forefathers from England had almost run out in the lapse of
nearly two centuries, and the signal revival which has taken place
within the last thirty years had not yet begun. Still, however, when we
hear of a youth of fifteen preparing himself for college by a year's
study of Greek and Latin, we must recollect that the attainments which
may be made in that time by a young man of distinguished talent, at the
period of life when the faculties develop themselves with the greatest
energy, studying night and day, summer and winter, under the master
influence of hope, ambition, and necessity, are not to be measured by
the tardy progress of the thoughtless or languid children of prosperity,
sent to school from the time they are able to go alone, and carried
along by routine and discipline from year to year, in the majority of
cases without strong personal motives to diligence. Besides this, it is
to be considered that the studies which occupy this usually prolonged
novitiate are those which are required for the acquisition of
grammatical and metrical niceties, the elegancies and the luxuries of
scholarship. Short as was his period of preparation, it enabled Mr.
Webster to lay the foundation of a knowledge of the classical writers,
especially the Latin, which was greatly increased in college, and which
has been kept up by constant recurrence to the great models of
antiquity, during the busiest periods of active life. The happiness of
Mr. Webster's occasional citations from the Latin classics is a striking
feature of his oratory.
Mr. Webster entered college in 1797, and passed the four academic years
in assiduous study. He was not only distinguished for his attention to
the prescribed studies, but devoted himself to general reading,
especially to English history and literature. He took part in the
publication of a little weekly newspaper, furnishing selections from
books and magazines, with an occasional article from his own pen. He
delivered addresses, also, before the college societies, some of which
were published. The winter vacations brought no relaxation. Like those
of so many of the meritorious students at our places of education, they
were employed in teaching school, for the purpose of eking out his own
frugal means and aiding his brother to prepare himself for college. The
attachment between the two brothers was of the most affectionate kind,
and it was by the persuasion of Daniel that the father had been induced
to extend to Ezekiel also the benefits of a college education.
The genial and companionable spirit of Mr. Webster is still remembered
by his classmates, and by the close of his first college year he had
given proof of powers and aspirations which placed him far above rivalry
among his associates. "It is known," says Mr. Ticknor, "in many ways,
that, by those who were acquainted with him at this period of life, he
was already regarded as a marked man, and that to the more sagacious of
them the honors of his subsequent career have not been unexpected."
Mr. Webster completed his college course in August, 1801, and
immediately entered the office of Mr. Thompson, the next-door neighbor
of his father, as a student of law. Mr. Thompson was a gentleman of
education and intelligence, and, at a later period, a respectable
member, successively, of the House of Representatives and Senate of the
United States. He maintained a high character till his death. Mr.
Webster remained in his office as a student till, in the words of Mr.
March, "he felt it necessary to go somewhere and do something to earn a
little money." In this emergency, application was made to him to take
charge of an academy at Fryeburg in Maine, upon a salary of about one
dollar _per diem_, being what is now paid for the coarsest kind of
unskilled manual labor. As he was able, besides, to earn enough to pay
for his board and to defray his other expenses by acting as assistant to
the register of deeds for the county, his salary was all saved,--a fund
for his own professional education and to help his brother through
college.
Mr. Webster's son and one of his friends have lately visited Fryeburg
and examined these records of deeds. They are still preserved in two
huge folio volumes, in Mr. Webster's handwriting, exciting wonder how so
much work could be done in the evening, after days of close confinement
to the business of the school. They looked also at the records of the
trustees of the academy and found in them a most respectful and
affectionate vote of thanks and good-will to Mr. Webster when he took
leave of the employment.[3]
These humble details need no apology. They relate to trials, hardships,
and efforts which constitute no small part of the discipline by which a
great character is formed. During his residence at Fryeburg, Mr. Webster
borrowed (he was too poor to buy) Blackstone's Commentaries, and read
them for the first time. "Among other mental exercises," says Mr. March,
"he committed to memory Mr. Ames's celebrated speech on the British
treaty." In after life he has been heard to say, that few things moved
him more than the perusal and reperusal of this celebrated speech.
In September, 1802, Mr. Webster returned to Salisbury, and resumed his
studies under Mr. Thompson, in whose office he remained for eighteen
months. Mr. Thompson, though, as we have said, a person of excellent
character and a good lawyer, yet seems not to have kept pace in his
profession with the progress of improvement. Although Blackstone's
Commentaries had been known in this country for a full generation, Mr.
Thompson still directed the reading of his pupils on the principle of
the hardest book first. Coke's Littleton was still the work with which
his students were broken into the study of the profession. Mr. Webster
has condemned this practice. "A boy of twenty," says he, "with no
previous knowledge of such subjects, cannot understand Coke. It is folly
to set him upon such an author. There are propositions in Coke so
abstract, and distinctions so nice, and doctrines embracing so many
distinctions and qualifications, that it requires an effort not only of
a mature mind, but of a mind both strong and mature, to understand him.
Why disgust and discourage a young man by telling him he must break into
his profession through such a wall as this?" Acting upon these views,
even in his youth, Mr. Webster gave his attention to more intelligible
authors, and to titles of law of greater importance in this country than
the curious learning of tenures, many of which are antiquated, even in
England. He also gave a good deal of time to general reading, and
especially the study of the Latin classics, English history, and the
volumes of Shakespeare. In order to obtain a wider compass of knowledge,
and to learn something of the language not to be gained from the
classics, he read through attentively Puffendorff's Latin History of
England.
In July, 1804, he took up his residence in Boston. Before entering upon
the practice of his profession, he enjoyed the advantage of pursuing his
legal studies for six or eight months in the office of the Hon.
Christopher Gore. This was a fortunate event for Mr. Webster. Mr. Gore,
afterwards Governor of Massachusetts, was a lawyer of eminence, a
statesman and a civilian, a gentleman of the old school of manners, and
a rare example of distinguished intellectual qualities, united with
practical good sense and judgment. He had passed several years in
England as a commissioner, under Jay's treaty, for liquidating the
claims of citizens of the United States for seizures by British cruisers
in the early wars of the French Revolution. His library, amply
furnished with works of professional and general literature, his large
experience of men and things at home and abroad, and his uncommon
amenity of temper, combined to make the period passed by Mr. Webster in
his office one of the pleasantest in his life. These advantages, it
hardly need be said, were not thrown away. He diligently attended the
sessions of the courts and reported their decisions. He read with care
the leading elementary works of the common and municipal law, with the
best authors on the law of nations, some of them for a second and third
time; diversifying these professional studies with a great amount and
variety of general reading. His chief study, however, was the common
law, and more especially that part of it which relates to the now
unfashionable science of special pleading. He regarded this, not only as
a most refined and ingenious, but a highly instructive and useful branch
of the law. Besides mastering all that could be derived from more
obvious sources, he waded through Saunders's Reports in the original
edition, and abstracted and translated into English from the Latin and
Norman French all the pleadings contained in the two folio volumes. This
manuscript still remains.
Just as he was about to be admitted to practise in the Suffolk Court of
Common Pleas in Massachusetts, an incident occurred which came near
affecting his career for life. The place of clerk in the Court of Common
Pleas for the county of Hillsborough, in New Hampshire, became vacant.
Of this court Mr. Webster's father had been made one of the judges, in
conformity with a very common practice at that time, of placing on the
side bench of the lower courts men of intelligence and respectability,
though not lawyers. From regard to Judge Webster, the vacant clerkship
was offered by his colleagues to his son. It was what the father had for
some time looked forward to and desired. The fees of the office were
about fifteen hundred dollars _per annum_, which in those days and in
that region was not so much a competence as a fortune. Mr. Webster
himself was disposed to accept the office. It promised an immediate
provision in lieu of a distant and doubtful prospect. It enabled him at
once to bring comfort into his father's family, while to refuse it was
to condemn himself and them to an uncertain and probably harassing
future. He was willing to sacrifice his hopes of professional eminence
to the welfare of those whom he held most dear. But the earnest
dissuasions of Mr. Gore, who saw in this step the certain postponement,
perhaps the final defeat, of all hopes of professional advancement,
prevented his accepting the office. His aged father was, in a personal
interview with his son, if not reconciled to the refusal, at least
induced to bury his regrets in his own bosom. The subject was never
mentioned by him again. In the spring of the same year (1805), Mr.
Webster was admitted to the practice of the law in the Court of Common
Pleas for Suffolk county, Boston. According to the custom of that day,
Mr. Gore accompanied the motion for his admission with a brief speech in
recommendation of the candidate. The remarks of Mr. Gore on this
occasion are well remembered by those present. He dwelt with emphasis on
the remarkable attainments and uncommon promise of his pupil, and closed
with a prediction of his future eminence.
Immediately on his admission to the bar, Mr. Webster went to Amherst, in
New Hampshire, where his father's court was in session; from that place
he went home with his father. He had intended to establish himself at
Portsmouth, which, as the largest town and the seat of the foreign
commerce of the State, opened the widest field for practice. But filial
duty kept him nearer home. His father was now infirm from the advance of
years, and had no other son at home. Under these circumstances Mr.
Webster opened an office at Boscawen, not far from his father's
residence, and commenced the practice of the law in this retired spot.
Judge Webster lived but a year after his son's entrance upon the
practice of his profession; long enough, however, to hear his first
argument in court, and to be gratified with the confident predictions of
his future success.
In May, 1807, Mr. Webster was admitted as an attorney and counsellor of
the Superior Court in New Hampshire, and in September of that year,
relinquishing his office in Boscawen to his brother Ezekiel, he removed
to Portsmouth, in conformity with his original intention. Here he
remained in the practice of his profession for nine successive years.
They were years of assiduous labor, and of unremitted devotion to the
study and practice of the law. He was associated with several persons
of great eminence, citizens of New Hampshire or of Massachusetts
occasionally practising at the Portsmouth bar. Among the latter were
Samuel Dexter and Joseph Story; of the residents of New Hampshire,
Jeremiah Mason was the most distinguished. Often opposed to each other
as lawyers, a strong personal friendship grew up between them, which
ended only with the death of Mr. Mason. Mr. Webster's eulogy on Mr.
Mason will be found in one of the volumes of this collection, and will
descend to posterity an enduring monument of both. Had a more active
temperament led Mr. Mason to embark earlier and continue longer in
public life, he would have achieved a distinction shared by few of his
contemporaries. Mr. Webster, in the lapse of time, was called to perform
the same melancholy office for Judge Story.
During the greater part of Mr. Webster's practice of the law in New
Hampshire, Jeremiah Smith was Chief Justice of the State, a learned and
excellent judge, whose biography has been written by the Rev. John H.
Morison, and will well repay perusal. Judge Smith was an early and warm
friend of Judge Webster, and this friendship descended to the son, and
glowed in his breast with fervor till he went to his grave.
Although dividing with Mr. Mason the best of the business of Portsmouth,
and indeed of all the eastern portion of the State, Mr. Webster's
practice was mostly on the circuit. He followed the Superior Court
through the principal counties of the State, and was retained in nearly
every important cause. It is mentioned by Mr. March, as a somewhat
singular fact in his professional life, that, with the exception of the
occasions on which he has been associated with the Attorney-General of
the United States for the time being, he has hardly appeared ten times
as junior counsel. Within the sphere in which he was placed, he may be
said to have risen at once to the head of his profession; not, however,
like Erskine and some other celebrated British lawyers, by one and the
same bound, at once to fame and fortune. The American bar holds forth no
such golden prizes, certainly not in the smaller States. Mr. Webster's
practice in New Hampshire, though probably as good as that of any of his
contemporaries, was never lucrative. Clients were not very rich, nor the
concerns litigated such as would carry heavy fees. Although exclusively
devoted to his profession, it afforded him no more than a bare
livelihood.
But the time for which he practised at the New Hampshire bar was
probably not lost with reference to his future professional and
political eminence. His own standard of legal attainment was high. He
was associated with professional brethren fully competent to put his
powers to their best proof, and to prevent him from settling down in
early life into an easy routine of ordinary professional practice. It
was no disadvantage, under these circumstances, (except in reference to
immediate pecuniary benefit,) to enjoy some portion of that leisure for
general reading, which is almost wholly denied to the lawyer of
commanding talents, who steps immediately into full practice in a large
city.
FOOTNOTES
[1] Fifty dollars. The knowledge of this fact is derived from the
"Gloucester News," to which it was no doubt communicated by
Master Tappan.
[2] Belknap's History of New Hampshire, Vol. III. p. 328.
[3] The old school-house was burned down many years ago. The spot on
which it stood belongs to Mr. Robert J. Bradley, who has
inherited from his father a devoted friendship for Mr. Webster,
and who would never suffer any other building to be erected on
the spot, and says that none shall be during his life.
CHAPTER II.
Entrance on Public Life.--State of Parties in 1812.--Election to
Congress.--Extra Session of 1813.--Foreign Relations of the
Country.--Resolutions relative to the Berlin and Milan
Decrees.--Naval Defence.--Reelected to Congress in 1814.--Peace with
England.--Projects for a National Bank.--Mr. Webster's Course on
that Question.--Battle of New Orleans.--New Questions arising on the
Return of Peace.--Course of Prominent Men of Different Parties.--Mr.
Webster's Opinions on the Constitutionality of the Tariff
Policy.--The Resolution to restore Specie Payments moved by Mr.
Webster.--Removal to Boston.
Mr. Webster had hitherto taken less interest in politics than has been
usual with the young men of talent, at least with the young lawyers, of
America. In fact, at the time to which the preceding narrative refers,
the politics of the country were in such a state, that there was scarce
any course which could be pursued with entire satisfaction by a
patriotic young man sagacious enough to penetrate behind mere party
names, and to view public questions in their true light. Party spirit
ran high; errors had been committed by ardent men on both sides; and
extreme opinions had been advanced on most questions, which no wise and
well-informed person at the present day would probably be willing to
espouse. The United States, although not actually drawn to any great
depth into the vortex of the French Revolution, were powerfully affected
by it. The deadly struggle of the two great European belligerents, in
which the neutral rights of this country were grossly violated by both,
gave a complexion to our domestic politics. A change of administration,
mainly resulting from difference of opinion in respect to our foreign
relations, had taken place in 1801. If we may consider President
Jefferson's inaugural address as the indication of the principles on
which he intended to conduct his administration, it was his purpose to
take a new departure, and to disregard the former party divisions. "We
have," said he, in that eloquent state paper, "called by different names
brethren of the same principle. We are all republicans, we are all
federalists."
At the time these significant expressions were uttered, Mr. Webster, at
the age of nineteen, was just leaving college and preparing to embark on
the voyage of life. A sentiment so liberal was not only in accordance
with the generous temper of youth, but highly congenial with the spirit
of enlarged patriotism which has ever guided his public course. There is
certainly no individual who has filled a prominent place in our
political history who has shown himself more devoted to principle and
less to party. While no man has clung with greater tenacity to the
friendships which spring from agreement in political opinion (the _idem
sentire de republica_), no man has been less disposed to find in these
associations an instrument of monopoly or exclusion in favor of
individuals, interests, or sections of the country.
But however catholic may have been the intentions and wishes of Mr.
Jefferson, events both at home and abroad were too strong for him, and
defeated that policy of blending the great parties into one, which has
always been a favorite, perhaps we must add, a visionary project, with
statesmen of elevated and generous characters. The aggressions of the
belligerents on our neutral commerce still continued, and, by the joint
effect of the Berlin and Milan Decrees and the Orders in Council, it was
all but swept from the ocean. In this state of things two courses were
open to the United States, as a growing neutral power: one, that of
prompt resistance to the aggressive policy of the belligerents; the
other, that which was called "the restrictive system," which consisted
in an embargo on our own vessels, with a view to withdraw them from the
grasp of foreign cruisers, and in laws inhibiting commercial intercourse
with England and France. There was a division of opinion in the cabinet
of Mr. Jefferson and in the country at large. The latter policy was
finally adopted. It fell in with the general views of Mr. Jefferson
against committing the country to the risks of foreign war. His
administration was also strongly pledged to retrenchment and economy, in
the pursuit of which a portion of our little navy had been brought to
the hammer, and a species of shore defence substituted, which can now be
thought of only with mortification and astonishment.
Although the discipline of party was sufficiently strong to cause this
system of measures to be adopted and pursued for years, it was never
cordially approved by the people of the United States of any party.
Leading Republicans both at the South and at the North denounced it.
With Mr. Jefferson's retirement from office it fell rapidly into
disrepute. It continued, however, to form the basis of our party
divisions till the war of 1812. In these divisions, as has been
intimated, both parties were in a false position; the one supporting and
forcing upon the country a system of measures not cordially approved,
even by themselves; the other, a powerless minority, zealously opposing
those measures, but liable for that reason to be thought backward in
asserting the neutral rights of the country. A few men of well-balanced
minds, true patriotism, and sound statesmanship, in all sections of the
country, were able to unite fidelity to their party associations with a
comprehensive view to the good of the country. Among these, mature
beyond his years, was Mr. Webster. As early as 1806 he had, in a public
oration, presented an impartial view of the foreign relations of the
country in reference to both belligerents, of the importance of our
commercial interests and the duty of protecting them. "Nothing is
plainer," said he, "than this: if we will have commerce, we must protect
it. This country is commercial as well as agricultural. Indissoluble
bonds connect him who ploughs the land with him who ploughs the sea.
Nature has placed us in a situation favorable to commercial pursuits,
and no government can alter the destination. Habits confirmed by two
centuries are not to be changed. An immense portion of our property is
on the waves. Sixty or eighty thousand of our most useful citizens are
there, and are entitled to such protection from the government as their
case requires."
At length the foreign belligerents themselves perceived the folly and
injustice of their measures. In the strife which should inflict the
greatest injury on the other, they had paralyzed the commerce of the
world and embittered the minds of all the neutral powers. The Berlin and
Milan Decrees were revoked, but in a manner so unsatisfactory as in a
great degree to impair the pacific tendency of the measure. The Orders
in Council were also rescinded in the summer of 1812. War, however,
justly provoked by each and both of the parties, had meantime been
declared by Congress against England, and active hostilities had been
commenced on the frontier. At the elections next ensuing, Mr. Webster
was brought forward as a candidate for Congress of the Federal party of
that day, and, having been chosen in the month of November, 1812, he
took his seat at the first session of the Thirteenth Congress, which was
an extra session called in May, 1813. Although his course of life
hitherto had been in what may be called a provincial sphere, and he had
never been a member even of the legislature of his native State, a
presentiment of his ability seems to have gone before him to Washington.
He was, in the organization of the House, placed by Mr. Clay, its
Speaker, upon the Committee of Foreign Affairs, a select committee at
that time, and of necessity the leading committee in a state of war.
There were many men of uncommon ability in the Thirteenth Congress.
Rarely has so much talent been found at any one time in the House of
Representatives. It contained Clay, Calhoun, Lowndes, Pickering, Gaston,
Forsyth, in the front rank; Macon, Benson, J. W. Taylor, Oakley,
Grundy, Grosvenor, W. R. King, Kent of Maryland, C. J. Ingersoll of
Pennsylvania, Pitkin of Connecticut, and others of scarcely inferior
note. Although among the youngest and least experienced members of the
body, Mr. Webster rose, from the first, to a position of undisputed
equality with the most distinguished. The times were critical. The
immediate business to be attended to was the financial and military
conduct of the war, a subject of difficulty and importance. The
position of Mr. Webster was not such as to require or permit him to take
a lead; but it was his steady aim, without the sacrifice of his
principles, to pursue such a course as would tend most effectually to
extricate the country from the embarrassments of her present position,
and to lead to peace upon honorable terms.
As the repeal of the Orders in Council was nearly simultaneous with the
declaration of war, the delay of a few weeks might have led to an
amicable adjustment. Whatever regret on the score of humanity this
circumstance may now inspire, the war must be looked upon, in reviewing
the past, as a great chapter in the progress of the country, which could
not be passed over. When we reflect on the influence of the conflict, in
its general results, upon the national character; its importance as a
demonstration to the belligerent powers of the world that the rights of
neutrals must be respected; and more especially, when we consider the
position among the nations of the earth which the United States have
been enabled to take, in consequence of the capacity for naval
achievement which the war displayed, we shall readily acknowledge it to
be a part of that great training, by which the country was prepared to
take the station which she now occupies.
Mr. Webster was not a member of Congress when war was declared, nor in
any other public station. He was too deeply read in the law of nations,
and regarded that august code with too much respect, not to contemplate
with indignation its infraction by both the belligerents. With respect
to the Orders in Council, the highest judicial magistrate in England
(Lord Chief Justice Campbell) has lately admitted that they were
contrary to the law of nations.[4] As little doubt can exist that the
French decrees were equally at variance with the public law. But however
strong his convictions of this truth, Mr. Webster's sagacity and
practical sense pointed out the inadequacy, and what may be called the
political irrelevancy, of the restrictive system, as a measure of
defence or retaliation. He could not but feel that it was a policy which
tended at once to cripple the national resources, and abase the public
sentiment, with an effect upon the foreign powers doubtful and at best
indirect. In the state of the military resources of the country at that
time, he discerned, in common with many independent men of all parties,
that less was to be hoped from the attempted conquest of foreign
territory, than from a gallant assault upon the fancied supremacy of the
enemy at sea. It is unnecessary to state, that the whole course of the
war confirmed the justice of these views. They furnish the key to Mr.
Webster's course in the Thirteenth Congress.
Early in the session, he moved a series of resolutions of inquiry,
relative to the repeal of the Berlin and Milan Decrees. The object of
these resolutions was to elicit a communication on this subject from the
executive, which would unfold the proximate causes of the war, as far as
they were to be sought in those famous Decrees, and in the Orders in
Council. On the 10th of June, 1813, Mr. Webster delivered his maiden
speech on these resolutions. No full report of this speech has been
preserved. It is known only from extremely imperfect sketches, contained
in the contemporaneous newspaper accounts of the proceedings of
Congress, from the recollection of those who heard it, and from general
tradition. It was a calm and statesmanlike exposition of the objects of
the resolutions; and was listened to with profound attention by the
House. It was marked by all the characteristics of Mr. Webster's
maturest parliamentary efforts,--moderation of tone, precision of
statement, force of reasoning, absence of ambitious rhetoric and
high-flown language, occasional bursts of true eloquence, and, pervading
the whole, a genuine and fervid patriotism. We have reason to believe
that its effect upon the House is accurately described in the following
extract from Mr. March's work.
"The speech took the House by surprise, not so much from its
eloquence as from the vast amount of historical knowledge and
illustrative ability displayed in it. How a person, untrained to
forensic contests and unused to public affairs, could exhibit so
much parliamentary tact, such nice appreciation of the difficulties
of a difficult question, and such quiet facility in surmounting
them, puzzled the mind. The age and inexperience of the speaker had
prepared the House for no such display, and astonishment for a time
subdued the expression of its admiration.
"'No member before,' says a person then in the House, 'ever riveted
the attention of the House so closely, in his first speech. Members
left their seats, where they could not see the speaker face to face,
and sat down, or stood on the floor, fronting him. All listened
attentively and silently, during the whole speech; and when it was
over, many went up and warmly congratulated the orator; among whom
were some, not the most niggard of their compliments, who most
dissented from the views he had expressed.'
"Chief Justice Marshall, writing to a friend some time after this
speech, says: 'At the time when this speech was delivered, I did not
know Mr. Webster, but I was so much struck with it, that I did not
hesitate then to state, that Mr. Webster was a very able man, and
would become one of the very first statesmen in America, and perhaps
the very first.'"--pp. 35, 36.[5]
The resolutions moved by Mr. Webster prevailed by a large majority, and
drew forth from Mr. Monroe, then Secretary of State, an elaborate and
instructive report upon the subject to which they referred.
We have already observed, that, as early as 1806, Mr. Webster had
expressed himself in favor of the protection of our commerce against the
aggressions of both the belligerents. Some years later, before the war
was declared, but when it was visibly impending, he had put forth some
vigorous articles to the same effect. In an oration delivered in 1812,
he had said: "A navy sufficient for the defence of our coasts and
harbors, for the convoy of important branches of our trade, and
sufficient also to give our enemies to understand, when they injure us,
that they too are vulnerable, and that we have the power of retaliation
as well as of defence, seems to be the plain, necessary, indispensable
policy of the nation. It is the dictate of nature and common sense, that
means of defence shall have relation to the danger." In accordance with
these views, first announced by Mr. Webster a considerable time before
Hull, Decatur, and Bainbridge had broken the spell of British naval
supremacy, he used the following language in his speech on encouraging
enlistments in 1814:--
"The humble aid which it would be in my power to render to measures
of government shall be given cheerfully, if government will pursue
measures which I can conscientiously support. If even now, failing
in an honest and sincere attempt to procure an honorable peace, it
will return to measures of defence and protection, such as reason
and common sense and the public opinion all call for, my vote shall
not be withholden from the means. Give up your futile projects of
invasion. Extinguish the fires which blaze on your inland frontiers.
Establish perfect safety and defence there by adequate force. Let
every man that sleeps on your soil sleep in security. Stop the blood
that flows from the veins of unarmed yeomanry, and women and
children. Give to the living time to bury and lament their dead, in
the quietness of private sorrow. Having performed this work of
beneficence and mercy on your inland border, turn and look with the
eye of justice and compassion on your vast population along the
coast. Unclench the iron grasp of your embargo. Take measures for
that end before another sun sets upon you. With all the war of the
enemy on your commerce, if you would cease to make war upon it
yourselves, you would still have some commerce. That commerce would
give you some revenue. Apply that revenue to the augmentation of
your navy. That navy in turn will protect your commerce. Let it no
longer be said, that not one ship of force, built by your hands
since the war, yet floats upon the ocean. Turn the current of your
efforts into the channel which national sentiment has already worn
broad and deep to receive it. A naval force competent to defend your
coasts against considerable armaments, to convoy your trade, and
perhaps raise the blockade of your rivers, is not a chimera. It may
be realized. If then the war must continue, go to the ocean. If you
are seriously contending for maritime rights, go to the theatre
where alone those rights can be defended. Thither every indication
of your fortune points you. There the united wishes and exertions of
the nation will go with you. Even our party divisions, acrimonious
as they are, cease at the water's edge. They are lost in attachment
to the national character, on the element where that character is
made respectable. In protecting naval interests by naval means, you
will arm yourselves with the whole power of national sentiment, and
may command the whole abundance of the national resources. In time
you may be able to redress injuries in the place where they may be
offered; and, if need be, to accompany your own flag throughout the
world with the protection of your own cannon."
The principal subjects on which Mr. Webster addressed the House during
the Thirteenth Congress were his own resolutions, the increase of the
navy, the repeal of the embargo, and an appeal from the decision of the
chair on a motion for the previous question. His speeches on those
questions raised him to the front rank of debaters. He manifested upon
his entrance into public life that variety of knowledge, familiarity
with the history and traditions of the government, and self-possession
on the floor, which in most cases are acquired by time and long
experience. They gained for him the reputation indicated by the
well-known remark of Mr. Lowndes, that "the North had not his equal, nor
the South his superior." It was not the least conspicuous of the
strongly marked qualities of his character as a public man, disclosed at
this early period, and uniformly preserved throughout his career, that,
at a time when party spirit went to great lengths, he never permitted
himself to be infected with its contagion. His opinions were firmly
maintained and boldly expressed; but without bitterness toward those who
differed from him. He cultivated friendly relations on both sides of the
House, and gained the personal respect even of those with whom he most
differed.
In August, 1814, Mr. Webster was reëlected to Congress. The treaty
of Ghent, as is well known, was signed in December, 1814, and the
prospect of peace, universally welcomed by the country, opened on
the Thirteenth Congress toward the close of its third session.
Earlier in the season a project for a Bank of the United States was
introduced into the House of Representatives on the recommendation of
Mr. Dallas, Secretary of the Treasury. The charter of the first
incorporated bank of the United States had expired in 1811. No general
complaints of mismanagement or abuse had been raised against this
institution; but the opinions entertained by what has been called the
"Virginia School" of politicians, against the constitutionality of a
national bank, prevented the renewal of the charter. The want of
such an institution was severely felt in the war of 1812, although it
is probable that the amount of assistance which it could have afforded
the financial operations of the government was greatly overrated. Be
this as it may, both the Treasury Department and Congress were now
strongly disposed to create a bank. Its capital was to consist of
forty-five millions of the public stocks and five millions of specie,
and it was to be under obligation to lend the government thirty
millions of dollars on demand. To enable it to exist under these
conditions, it was relieved from the necessity of redeeming its notes
in specie. In other words, it was an arrangement for the issue of an
irredeemable paper currency. It was opposed mainly on this ground by
Mr. Calhoun, Mr. Webster, Mr. Lowndes, and others of the ablest men on
both sides of the House, as a project not only unsound in its
principles, but sure to increase the derangement of the currency already
existing. The speech of Mr. Webster against the bill will be found in
one of these volumes, and it will be generally admitted to display a
mastery of the somewhat difficult subjects of banking and finance,
rarely to be found in the debates in Congress. The project was
supported as an administration measure, but the leading members from
South Carolina and their friends united with the regular opposition
against it, and it was lost by the casting vote of the Speaker, Mr.
Cheves. It was revived by reconsideration, on motion of Mr. Webster,
and such amendments introduced that it passed the House by a large
majority. It was carried through the Senate in this amended form
with difficulty, but it was negatived by Mr. Madison, being one of
the two cases in which he exercised the veto power during his eight
years' administration.
On the 8th of January of the year 1815, the victory at New Orleans was
gained by General Jackson. No occurrence on land, in the course of the
war, was of equal immediate interest, or destined to have so abiding an
influence on the future. Besides averting the indescribable calamity of
the sack of a populous and flourishing city, it showed the immense
military power of the volunteer force of the country, when commanded
with energy and skill. The praises of General Jackson were on every
tongue throughout the land, and Congress responded to the grateful
feelings of the country. A vote of thanks was unanimously passed by the
Senate and House of Representatives.
In the interval between the Thirteenth and Fourteenth Congresses
(March-December, 1815), Mr. Webster was busily engaged at home in the
practice of the law. He had begun at this time to consider the
expediency of removing his residence to a wider professional field.
Though receiving a full share of the best business of New Hampshire, it
ceased to yield an adequate support for his increasing family, and still
more failed to afford any thing like the just reward of his legal
attainment and labors. The destruction of his house, furniture, library,
and many important manuscript collections, in "the great fire" at
Portsmouth, in December, 1813, had entailed upon him the loss of the
entire fruits of his professional industry up to that time, and made it
necessary for him to look around him for the means of a considerably
increased income. He hesitated between Albany and Boston; and, in
consequence of this indecision, the execution of his purpose was for the
present postponed.
The Fourteenth Congress assembled in December, 1815. An order of things
in a great degree new presented itself. After a momentary pause, the
country rose with an elastic bound from the pressure of the war. Old
party dissensions had lost much of their interest. The condition of
Europe had undergone a great change. The power of the French emperor was
annihilated; and with the return of general peace, all occasions for
belligerent encroachments on neutral rights had ceased. Two thirds of
our domestic feuds had turned on foreign questions, and there was a
spontaneous feeling throughout the country in favor of healing the
wounds which these feuds had inflicted upon its social and political
harmony. Nor was this all. New relations and interests had arisen. The
public debt had been swelled by the war expenditure to a large amount,
and its interest was to be paid. Domestic manufactures had, in some of
the States, grown up into importance through the operation of the
restrictive system and the war, and asked for protection. The West began
to fill up with unexampled rapidity, and required new facilities of
communication with the Atlantic coast. The navy had fought itself into
favor, and the war with Algiers, in 1816, forbade its reduction below
the recent war establishment. The necessity of a system of coast
defences had made itself felt. With all these loud calls for increased
expenditure, the public finances were embarrassed and the currency was
in extreme disorder. In a word, there were new and great wants and
interests at home and abroad, throwing former topics of dissension into
the shade, and calling for the highest efforts of statesmanship and a
patriotism embracing the whole country.
Among those who responded with the greatest cordiality and promptness to
the new demand were the distinguished statesmen of the preceding
Congress, and conspicuous among them Clay, Calhoun, Webster, Lowndes,
and Cheves. It will excite some surprise at the present day, in
consideration of the political history of the last thirty years, to find
how little difference as to leading measures existed in 1816 between
these distinguished statesmen. No line of general party difference
separated the members of the first Congress after the peace. The great
measures brought forward were a national bank, internal improvement, and
a protective tariff. On these various subjects members divided, not in
accordance with any party organization, but from individual convictions,
supposed sectional interests, and general public grounds. On the two
first-named subjects no systematic difference of views disclosed itself
between the great Northern and Southern leaders; on the third alone
there was diversity of opinion. In the Northern States considerable
advances had been made in manufacturing industry, in different places,
especially at Waltham (Mass.); but a great manufacturing interest had
not yet grown up. The strength of this interest as yet lay mainly in
Pennsylvania. Navigation and foreign trade were the leading pursuits of
the North; and these interests, it was feared, would suffer from the
attempt to build up manufactures by a protective tariff. It is
accordingly a well-known fact, which may teach all to entertain
opinions on public questions with some distrust of their own judgment,
that the tariff of 1816, containing the _minimum_ duty on coarse cotton
fabrics, the corner-stone of the protective system, was supported by Mr.
Calhoun and a few other Southern members, and carried by their influence
against the opposition of the New England members generally, including
Mr. Webster. It has been stated, that, during the pendency of this law
before Congress, he denied the constitutionality of a tariff for
protection. This statement is inaccurate; although, had it been true, it
would have placed him only in the same relation to the question with Mr.
Calhoun and other Southern members, who at that time admitted the
principle of protection, but lived to reject it as the grossest and most
pernicious constitutional heresy. It would have shown only that, in a
long political career, he had, on the first discussion of a new
question, expressed an opinion which, in the lapse of time and under a
change of circumstances, he had seen occasion to alter. This is no
ground of just reproach. It has happened to every public man in every
free country, who has been of importance enough to have his early
opinions remembered. It has happened to a large portion of the prominent
men at the South, in reference to almost every great question agitated
within the last generation. The bank, internal improvements, a navy, the
Colonization Society, the annexation of Texas, the power of Congress
over the territories, this very question of the tariff, the doctrine of
State rights generally, are subjects on which many prominent statesmen
of the South, living or recently deceased, have in the course of their
career entertained opposite views.
But it is not true that Mr. Webster in 1816 denied the constitutionality
of a tariff for protection. In 1820, in discussing the subject in
Faneuil Hall, he argued that, if the right of laying duties for
protection were derived from the revenue power, it was of necessity
incidental; and on that assumption, as the incident cannot go beyond
that to which it is incidental, duties avowedly for protection, and not
having any reference to revenue, could not be constitutionally laid. The
hypothetical form of the statement shows a degree of indecision; while
the proposition itself is not to be gainsaid. At a later period, and
after it had been confidently stated, and satisfactorily shown by Mr.
Madison, that the Federal Convention intended, under the provision for
regulating commerce, to clothe Congress with the power of laying duties
for the protection of manufactures; and after Congress had, by repeated
laws, passed against the wishes of the navigating and strictly
commercial interests, practically settled this constitutional question,
and turned a vast amount of the capital of the country into the channel
of manufactures; Mr. Webster considered a moderate degree of protection
(such as would keep the home market steady under the occasional gluts in
the foreign market, and shield the domestic manufacturer from the
wholesale frauds of foreign importation) as the established policy of
the United States; and he accordingly supported it. It is unnecessary to
state, that this course has been pursued with the approbation of his
constituents, and to the manifest good of the country. No change has
taken place in Mr. Webster's opinions on the subject of protection which
has not been generally shared and sanctioned by the intelligence of the
manufacturing States. There are strong indications, even, that in the
Southern States the superiority of the home market over the foreign is
beginning to be felt.
Mr. Webster took an active and efficient part, at the first session of
the Fourteenth Congress, in the debates on the charter of the Bank of
the United States, which passed Congress in April, 1816. While the bill
was before the House, he moved and carried several amendments similar to
those which he had caused to be introduced into the bill of the former
year. He exerted himself in vain, however, against the participation of
the government in its management, and, in common with several
independent members usually supporting the administration, he voted
against it on its passage. Among the amendments to the bill, of which
Mr. Webster procured the adoption, was one which required _deposits_, as
well as the _notes_ of the bank, to be paid on demand in specie.
But the great service rendered by Mr. Webster to the currency of the
country in the Fourteenth Congress was in procuring the adoption of the
specie resolution, in virtue of which, from and after the 20th of
February, 1817, all debts due to the treasury were required to be paid
in the legal currency of the country (gold or silver), in treasury
notes, or the notes of the Bank of the United States, or in notes of
banks which are payable and paid on demand in the same legal currency.
This service can hardly be appreciated at the present day by those too
young to recollect the state of things existing in this respect during
the war and after its close. This resolution passed the two houses, and
was approved by the President on the 30th of April, 1816. It completely
accomplished its object; and that object was to restore to a sound basis
the currency of the country, and to give the people a uniform
circulating medium. Of this they were destitute at the close of the war.
All the banks, except those of the New England States, had suspended
specie payments; but their depreciated bills were permitted by general
consent, and within certain limits, to circulate as money. They were
received of each other by the different banks; they passed from hand to
hand; and even the public revenue was collected at par in this degraded
paper. The rate of depreciation was different in different States, and
with different banks in the same States, according as greater or less
advantage had been taken of the suspension of the specie obligation.
What was not less harassing than this diversity was the uncertainty
everywhere prevailing, how far the reputed rate of depreciation in any
particular case might represent justly the real condition of a bank or
set of banks. In other words, men were obliged to make and receive
payments in a currency of which, at the time, the value was not
certainly known to them, and which might vary as it was passing
through their hands. The enormous injustice suffered by the citizens
of different States, in being obliged to pay their dues at the
custom-houses in as many different currencies as there were States,
varying at least twenty-five per cent. between Boston and Richmond,
need not be pointed out. For all these mischiefs the resolution of Mr.
Webster afforded a remedy as efficient as simple; and what chiefly
moves our astonishment at the present day is, that a measure of this
kind, demanded by the first principles of finance, overlooked by the
executive and its leading friends in Congress, should be left to be
brought forward by one of its youngest members, and he not belonging to
the supporters of the administration. But commanding talent and
profound knowledge of the subjects to be treated vindicate to
themselves a position in public bodies, which official relations can
neither confer nor take away. It would not be easy to name a political
measure, in the history of the government, which has accomplished its
design with greater simplicity and directness; and that design one of
paramount importance to the country, and coming home to the business
of every individual.
In all the other public measures brought forward in this Congress for
meeting the new conditions of the country, Mr. Webster bore an active
part, but they furnish no topic requiring illustration. At the close of
the first session, in August, 1816, he executed the project to which we
have already alluded of removing to a wider professional field. After
some hesitation he decided on Boston, in which and its vicinity he has
ever since made his home. He had established friendly relations here at
an early period of life. In no part of the Union was his national
reputation more cordially recognized than in the metropolis of New
England. He took at once the place in his profession which belonged to
his commanding talent and legal eminence, and was welcomed into every
circle of social life.
FOOTNOTES
[4] Lives of the Chancellors, Vol. VII. p. 218; see also p. 301.
[5] The friend to whom the letter referred to by Mr. March was
written, was Mr. Justice Story, who adds: "Such praise from such
a man ought to be very gratifying. Consider that he is now
seventy-five years old, and that he speaks of his recollections
of some eighteen years ago with a freshness which shows how
deeply your reasoning impressed itself upon his mind. Keep this
_in memoriam rei_."
CHAPTER III.
Professional Character particularly in Reference to Constitutional
Law.--The Dartmouth College Case argued at Washington in 1818.--Mr.
Ticknor's Description of that Argument.--The Case of Gibbons and
Ogden in 1824.--Mr. Justice Wayne's Allusion to that Case in
1847.--The Case of Ogden and Saunders in 1827.--The Case of the
Proprietors of the Charles River Bridge.--The Alabama Bank
Case.--The Case relative to the Boundary between Massachusetts and
Rhode Island.--The Girard Will Case.--The Case of the Constitution
of Rhode Island.--General Remarks on Mr. Webster's Practice in the
Supreme Court of the United States.--Practice in the State
Courts.--The Case of Goodridge,--and the Case of Knapp.
With Mr. Webster's removal to Boston commenced a period of five or
six years' retirement from active political life, during which time,
with a single exception which will be hereafter alluded to, he
filled no public office, and devoted himself exclusively to the duties
of his profession. It was accordingly within this period that his
reputation as a lawyer was fixed and established. The promise of his
youth, and the expectations of those who had known him as a student,
were more than fulfilled. He took a position as a counsellor and an
advocate, above which no one has ever risen in the country. A large
share of the best business of New England passed into his hands; and the
veterans of the Boston bar admitted him to an entire equality of
standing, repute, and influence.
Besides the reputation which he acquired in the ordinary routine of
practice, Mr. Webster, shortly after his removal to Boston, took the
lead in establishing what might almost be called a new school of
constitutional law. It fell to his lot to perform a prominent part in
unfolding a most important class of constitutional doctrines, which,
either because occasion had not drawn them forth, or the jurists of a
former period had failed to deduce and apply them, had not yet grown
into a system. It was reserved for Mr. Webster to distinguish himself
before most, if not all, of his contemporaries, in this branch of his
profession. It may be mentioned as a somewhat curious coincidence, that
the case in which he made his first great effort in this direction arose
in his native State, and concerned the College in which he had been
educated.
In the months of June and December, 1816, the legislature of New
Hampshire passed acts altering the charter of Dartmouth College (of
which the name was changed to Dartmouth University), enlarging the
number of the trustees, and generally reorganizing the corporation.
These acts, although passed without the consent and against the protest
of the Trustees of the College, went into operation. The newly created
body took possession of the corporate property, and assumed the
administration of the institution. The old board were all named as
members of the new corporation, but declined acting as such, and brought
an action against the treasurer of the new board for the books of
record, the original charter, the common seal, and other corporate
property of the College.
The action was commenced in the Court of Common Pleas for Grafton
County, in February, 1817, and carried immediately to the Superior
Court, in May of the same year. The general issue was pleaded by the
defendants and joined by the plaintiffs. The case turned upon the point,
whether the acts of the legislature above referred to were binding upon
the corporation without their assent, and not repugnant to the
Constitution of the United States. It was first argued by Messrs.
Jeremiah Mason and Jeremiah Smith for the plaintiffs, and by the
Attorney-General of New Hampshire for the defendants; and subsequently
by Messrs. Mason, Smith, and Webster for the plaintiffs, and the
Attorney-General and Mr. L Bartlett for the defendants. At the November
term it was decided by the Superior Court of New Hampshire, in an
opinion delivered by Chief Justice Richardson, that the acts of the New
Hampshire legislature were valid and constitutional. In giving his
opinion on the case, the Chief Justice said: "The cause has been argued
on both sides with uncommon learning and ability, and we have witnessed
a display of talents and eloquence upon this occasion in the highest
degree honorable to the profession of the law in this State."[6]
The case thus decided in the Superior Court of New Hampshire in favor of
the validity of the State laws, was carried by writ of error to the
Supreme Court of the United States, where, on the 10th of March, 1818,
it came on for argument before all the judges, Mr. Webster and Mr.
(afterwards Judge) Hopkinson for the plaintiffs, and Mr. J. Holmes of
Maine and the Attorney-General, Wirt, for the defendants in error. This
was perhaps the first occasion in this country on which a question
precisely of this kind had come up, and it is stated that, when one of
the court had run his eye cursorily over the record, he said that he did
not see how any thing important could be urged by the plaintiffs in
error.
It devolved upon Mr. Webster, as junior counsel, to open the case, and
it is scarcely necessary to say to any one who has read the report of
his argument, that, if such an impression as that just alluded to
existed in the mind of any of the court, it must have been immediately
dispelled. The ground was broadly taken, that the acts in question were
not only against common right and the constitution of New Hampshire, but
also, and this was the leading principle, against the provision of the
Constitution of the United States which forbids the individual States
from passing laws that impair the obligation of contracts. Under the
first head, the entire English law relative to educational foundations
was unfolded by Mr. Webster, and it was shown that colleges, unless
otherwise specifically constituted by their charters, were private
eleemosynary corporations, over whose property, members, and franchises
the crown has no control, except by due process of law, for acts
inconsistent with their charters. The whole learning of the subject was
brought to bear with overwhelming weight on this point.
The second main point required to be less elaborately argued; namely,
that such a charter is a contract which it is not competent for a State
to annul. The argument throughout was pursued with a closeness and vigor
which have been rarely witnessed in our courts. The topics were beyond
the usual range of forensic investigation in this country. The
constitutional principles sought to be applied were of commanding
importance. Great public expectation was awakened by the novelty and
magnitude of the case. The personal connection of Mr. Webster with
Dartmouth College as the place of his education gave a fervor to his
manner, which added, no doubt, to the effect of the reasoning. On this
point Mr. Ticknor expresses himself as follows:--
"Mr. Webster's argument is given in this volume [the first
collection of his works], that is, we have there the technical
outline; the dry skeleton of it. But those who heard him when it was
originally delivered still wonder how such dry bones could ever
have lived with the power they there witnessed and felt. He
opened his cause, as he always does, with perfect simplicity in
the general statement of its facts, and then went on to unfold
the topics of his argument in a lucid order, which made each
position sustain every other. The logic and the law were rendered
irresistible. But as he advanced, his heart warmed to the subject
and the occasion. Thoughts and feelings that had grown old with
his best affections rose unbidden to his lips. He remembered that
the institution he was defending was the one where his own youth
had been nurtured; and the moral tenderness and beauty this gave to
the grandeur of his thoughts, the sort of religious sensibility
it imparted to his urgent appeals and demands for the stern
fulfilment of what law and justice required, wrought up the whole
audience to an extraordinary state of excitement. Many betrayed
strong agitation, many were dissolved in tears. Prominent among them
was that eminent lawyer and statesman, Robert Goodloe Harper, who
came to him when he resumed his seat, evincing emotions of the
highest gratification. When he ceased to speak, there was a
perceptible interval before any one was willing to break the
silence; and when that vast crowd separated, not one person of the
whole number doubted that the man who had that day so moved,
astonished, and controlled them, had vindicated for himself a
place at the side of the first jurists of the country."[7]
The opinion of the court, unanimous; with the exception of Justice
Duvall, was pronounced by Chief Justice Marshall in the term for
1819, declaring the acts of the legislature of New Hampshire to be
unconstitutional and invalid, and reversing the opinion of the court
below. By this opinion the law of the land in reference to collegiate
charters was firmly established. Henceforward our colleges and
universities and their trustees, unless provision to the contrary is
made in their acts of incorporation, stand upon the broad basis of
common right and justice; holding in like manner as individuals their
property and franchises by a firm legal tenure, and not subject to
control or interference on the part of the local legislatures on the
vague ground that public institutions are at the mercy of the
government. That such is the recognized law of the land is owing in
no small degree to the ability with which the Dartmouth College case
was argued by Mr. Webster. The battle fought and the victory gained in
this case were sought and gained for every college and university, for
every academy and school, in the United States, endowed with property
or possessed of chartered rights. It ought to be mentioned, to the
credit of the State of New Hampshire, that she readily acquiesced in the
decision of the Supreme Court of the United States, and made no attempt
to sustain her recent legislation.
This celebrated cause, argued with such success before the highest
tribunal in the country, established Mr. Webster's position in the
profession. It placed him at once with Emmett and Pinkney and Wirt, in
the front rank of the American bar, and, though considerably the
youngest of this illustrious group, on an equality with the most
distinguished of them. He was henceforward retained in almost every
considerable cause argued at Washington. No counsel in the United States
has probably been engaged in a larger portion of the business brought
before that tribunal. While Mr. Webster as a politician and a statesman
has performed an amount of intellectual labor, as is abundantly shown in
these volumes, sufficient to form the sole occupation of an active life,
there is no doubt that his arguments to the court and his addresses to
the jury in important suits at law would, if they had been reported like
his political speeches, have filled a much greater space.
It would exceed the limits of this sketch to allude in detail to all
the cases argued by Mr. Webster in the Supreme Court of the United
States; still less would it be practicable to trace him through his
labors in the State courts. We can barely mention a few of the more
considerable causes. The case of Gibbons and Ogden, in 1824, is one of
great celebrity. In this case the grant by the State of New York to
the assignees of Fulton, of an exclusive right to navigate the
rivers, harbors, and bays of New York by steam, was called in question,
and was decided to be unconstitutional, after having been maintained by
all the tribunals of that great and respectable State. The decision of
this great case turned upon the principle, that the grant of such a
monopoly of the right to enter a portion of the navigable waters of
the Union was an encroachment, by the State, upon the power "to
regulate commerce,"----a power reserved by the Constitution to Congress,
and in its nature exclusive. The cause was argued by Messrs. Webster
and Wirt for the plaintiffs, and by Messrs. Oakley and Emmett for the
defendants in error,--an array of talent worthy the magnitude of the
interests at stake. The decision of the court was against the monopoly.
Few cases in the annals of federal jurisprudence are of equal
importance; none, perhaps, was ever argued with greater ability. In the
course of his discussion, Mr. Webster said, with great felicity of
illustration, that, by the establishment of the Constitution, the
commerce of this whole country had become a _unit_, a form of
expression used with approbation by Chief Justice Marshall in
delivering the opinion of the court.
A very distinguished compliment was paid to Mr. Webster's argument in
this case, a quarter of a century after its delivery, by Mr. Justice
Wayne of the Supreme Court of the United States. On the occasion of Mr.
Webster's visit to the South, in the spring of 1847, he was received
with public honors, among other places, at Savannah. He was there
addressed by Judge Wayne on behalf of his fellow-citizens. In the course
of his remarks on that occasion, Judge Wayne alluded to Mr. Webster's
line of argument in this case in the following manner:--
"From one of your constitutional suggestions, every man in the land
has been more or less benefited. We allude to it with the greater
pleasure, because it was in a controversy begun by a Georgian in
behalf of the constitutional rights of the citizen. When the late
Mr. Thomas Gibbons determined to put to hazard a large part of his
fortune in testing the constitutionality of the laws of New York
limiting the navigation of the waters of that State to steamers
belonging to a company, his own interest was not so much concerned
as the right of every citizen to use a coasting license upon the
waters of the United States, in whatever way their vessels might be
propelled. It was a sound view of the law, but not broad enough for
the occasion. It is not unlikely that the case would have been
decided upon it, if you had not insisted that it should be put upon
the broader constitutional ground of commerce and navigation. The
court felt the application and force of your reasoning, and it made
a decision releasing every creek, and river, lake, bay, and harbor
in our country from the interference of monopolies, which had
already provoked unfriendly legislation between some of the States,
and which would have been as little favorable to the interest of
Fulton, as they were unworthy his genius."
The case of Ogden and Saunders, in 1827, brought in question the
right of a State to pass an insolvent law. It was of course a case
of high constitutional law, belonging to the same general class with
those just mentioned, and relating to the limit of the powers of the
several States, in reference to matters confided by the Constitution to
the general government. This cause was argued by Mr. Clay and Mr. David
B. Ogden of New York for the plaintiffs, and by Mr. Webster and Mr.
Henry Wheaton for the defendants in error. In his argument in this
case, Mr. Webster maintained the entire unconstitutionality of State
bankrupt laws. This was a step in advance of the doctrines laid down
by the Supreme Court of the United States in the case of Sturges and
Crowninshield, nor did the court on the present occasion incline to go
further than they had done in that case. They were divided in opinion,
but a majority of the judges held, that, although it was not competent
to a State to pass a law discharging a debtor from the obligation of
payment, they might pass a law to discharge him from imprisonment on
personal execution. The Chief Justice and Judge Story were the
minority of the court, and the opinion of the Chief Justice sustained
the principle of Mr. Webster's argument, which is, in fact, usually
regarded as not falling below his most successful forensic efforts. The
manner in which he meets the argument in favor of a prospective State
insolvent law, namely, that such a law cannot impair the obligation of a
contract because it is a part of the contract, may be quoted as a
specimen of the acutest dialectics brought in aid of the broadest views
of constitutional law.
In the year 1836, Mr. Webster argued at Washington the great cause of
the proprietors of Charles River Bridge. This well-remembered case was a
suit in chancery commenced in the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, where
the bill was dismissed by a decree _pro forma_, the members of that
court being equally divided in opinion. A writ of error was taken to the
Supreme Court of the United States, on the ground that the rights of the
proprietors of Charles River Bridge under their charter had been
violated by the legislature, in authorizing the erection of Warren
Bridge. The cause was argued at Washington, in 1836, and, having been
then held under advisement by the court for a year, was, upon difference
of opinion among the judges, ordered to be again argued, which was done
in 1837. This was another of the great constitutional cases argued by
Mr. Webster before the Supreme Court of the United States. The abstract
principles of the case were perhaps as clear as in those to which we
have alluded; but there were practical difficulties, no doubt, in their
application to restrain the right of a legislature to grant an act of
incorporation, in the usual form, for the construction of a new bridge,
on the ground of interference with some prior similar franchise. The
opinion of the court, adverse to the complainants, was delivered by
Chief Justice Taney. Mr. Justice McLean was clearly of opinion that the
merits of the case were with the complainants, but that the Supreme
Court of the United States had no jurisdiction over it. Mr. Justice
Story dissented from the majority, and sustained the doctrines advanced
by Mr. Webster in a very learned and powerfully reasoned opinion.
In 1839 the constitutional rights of the Bank of the United States (so
called), which was incorporated by the State of Pennsylvania after the
termination of the Congressional charter, were drawn in question by a
case from the State of Alabama, in which the right of a corporation or a
citizen in one State to perform any legal act in another was asserted by
Mr. Webster, and his argument was sustained by the court. Not long
afterwards the controversy between Massachusetts and Rhode Island
relative to their boundary, a controversy running back to the earliest
periods of their colonial history, was brought before the Supreme Court,
at Washington, and argued by Mr. Webster for the Commonwealth of
Massachusetts.
In 1844 the important case relative to the validity of Mr. Girard's
bequest of the greater part of his estate to the city of Philadelphia,
for the foundation of a college for orphans, was argued by Mr. Webster
before the Supreme Court, at Washington, for the heirs at law. One of
the grounds on which the bequest was impeached by them was, the
exclusion by the will of all ecclesiastics, missionaries, or ministers,
of whatever sect, from all offices in the college, and even from
admission within the premises as visitors. So impressive was Mr.
Webster's argument upon the importance of making provision for religious
instruction in all institutions for education, that a meeting of the
citizens of Washington belonging to different religious denominations
was held, at which a resolution was passed expressing the opinion
entertained by the meeting of the great value of Mr. Webster's argument,
"in demonstrating the vital importance of Christianity to the success of
our free institutions, and that the general diffusion of that argument
among the people of the United States is a matter of deep public
interest." A committee of eight gentlemen of the different denominations
of Christians in the city was appointed to wait upon Mr. Webster, and
request him to prepare for the press the report of that portion of his
argument in which this important topic is treated.
In the month of January, 1848, the great Rhode Island case was brought
before the Supreme Court of the United States, and argued by Mr.
Webster for the chartered government of the State, and against the
insurrectionary government, to which an abortive attempt had been
made to give the form of a constitution, by a pretended act of the
popular will. The true principles of popular and constitutional
government are explored with unsurpassed sagacity in this argument. Some
copies of the report of it in a pamphlet form reached Europe during
the memorable year of 1848, when the Continent was convulsed with
revolutionary struggles from one end to the other. It was there
regarded as a most seasonable and instructive commentary on the nature
of constitutional obligations, and of the rights of the people to modify
their institutions of government.
A large portion of the causes argued by Mr. Webster belong to the
province of constitutional law, and have their origin in that partition
of powers which exists between the State governments and the government
of the United States, each clothed with sovereignty in its appropriate
sphere, each subject to limitations resulting from its relations to the
other, each possessing its legislative bodies, its judicial tribunals,
its executive authorities, and consequently armed with the means of
asserting its rights, and both combined into one great political system.
In such a system it cannot but happen that questions of conflicting
jurisdiction should arise. When we consider that the powers of these two
orders of government are defined in written constitutions of recent
date, and that all the direct precedents of administration must of
necessity, at the oldest, be still more recent, we cannot but wonder at
the small number of disputed cases which have arisen, and at the
sagacity, forethought, and practical wisdom of the founders of our
government, who made such admirable provision for the harmonious
operation of the system.
Still, however, it was impossible that the class of cases provided for
by the appellate jurisdiction of the Supreme Court of the United States
should not present themselves, and no small portion of Mr. Webster's
forensic life has been devoted to their investigation. It is unnecessary
to state that they are questions of an elevated character. They often
involve the validity of the legislative acts and judicial decisions of
governments substantially independent, as they may in fact the
constitutionality of the acts of Congress itself. No court in England
will allow any thing, not even a treaty with a foreign government, or
the most undoubted principles of the law of nations, to be pleaded
against an act of Parliament. The Supreme Court of the United States
entertains the question not only of the constitutionality of the acts of
the legislatures of States possessing most of the attributes of
sovereignty, but also of the constitutionality of the acts of the
national legislature, which possesses those attributes of sovereignty
which are denied to the States. These circumstances give great dignity
to its deliberations, and tend materially to elevate the character of a
constitutional lawyer in the United States.[8] Professional training in
England has not been deemed the best school of statesmanship; but it
will be readily perceived, that in this country a great class of
questions, and those of the highest importance, belong alike to the
senate and the court. Every one must feel that, in the case of Mr.
Webster, the lawyer and the statesman have contributed materially to
form each other.
Before quite quitting this subject, it may be proper to allude to Mr.
Webster's professional labors of another class, in the ordinary State
tribunals. Employed as counsel in all the most important cases during a
long professional life, it is hardly necessary to say, that his
investigations have extended to every department of the law, and that
his speeches to the jury and arguments to the court have evinced a
mastery of the learning and a control of the logic belonging to it,
which are in most cases to be attained only by the exclusive study and
practice of a life. The jurist and the advocate are so mingled in Mr.
Webster's professional character, that it is not easy to say which
predominates. His fervid spirit and glowing imagination place at his
control all the resources of an overwhelming rhetoric, and make him
all-powerful with a jury; while the ablest court is guided by his severe
logic, and instructed by the choice which he lays before them of the
most appropriate learning of the cases which he argues. It happens,
unfortunately, that forensic efforts of this kind are rarely reported at
length. A brief sketch of an important law argument finds a place in the
history of the case, but distinguished counsel rarely have time or
bestow the labor required to reproduce in writing an elaborate address
either to court or jury. There is probably no species of intellectual
labor of the highest order, which perishes for want of a contemporary
record to the same extent as that which is daily exerted in the courts
of law.
The present collection contains two speeches addressed to the jury by
Mr. Webster in criminal trials. One was delivered in the case of
Goodridge, and in defence of the persons whom he accused of having
robbed him on the highway. This cause was tried in 1817, shortly after
the establishment of Mr. Webster at Boston. Rarely has a case, in itself
of no greater importance, produced a stronger impression of the ability
of the counsel. The cross-examination of Goodridge, who pretended to
have been robbed, and who had previously been considered a person of
some degree of respectability, is still remembered at the bar of
Massachusetts as terrific beyond example, and the speech to the jury in
which his artfully contrived tale was stripped of its disguises may be
studied as a model of this species of exposition.
Mr. Webster's speech to the jury in the memorable case of John F. Knapp
is of a higher interest. The great importance of this case, as well on
account of the legal principles involved, as of the depth of the tragedy
in real life with which it was connected, has given it a painful
celebrity. A detailed history of the case and of the trial, from the pen
of the late ingenious and learned Mr. Merrill, will be found prefixed to
Mr. Webster's speech, as contained in the fifth volume of this
collection. The record of the _causes célèbres_ of no country or age
will furnish either a more thrilling narrative, or a forensic effort of
greater ability. A passage on the power of conscience will arrest the
attention of the reader. There is nothing in the language superior to
it. It was unquestionably owing to the legal skill and moral courage
with which the case was conducted by Mr. Webster, that one of the
foulest crimes ever committed was brought to condign punishment; and the
nicest refinements of the law of evidence were made the means of working
out the most important practical results. But it is time to return to
the chronological series of events.
FOOTNOTES
[6] 1 New Hampshire Reports, p. 113.
[7] American Review, Vol. IX. p. 434.
[8] "Crescit enim cum amplitudine rerum vis ingenii, nec quisquam
claram et inlustrem orationem efficere potest, nisi qui causam
parem invenit." The dialogue _De Oratoribus_, § 37, usually
printed with the works of Tacitus.
CHAPTER IV.
The Convention to revise the Constitution of Massachusetts.--John
Adams a Delegate.--Mr. Webster's Share in its Proceedings.--Speeches
on Oaths of Office, Basis of Senatorial Representation, and
Independence of the Judiciary.--Centennial Anniversary at Plymouth
on the 22d of December, 1820.--Discourse delivered by Mr.
Webster.--Bunker Hill Monument, and Address by Mr. Webster on the
Laying of the Corner-Stone, 17th of June, 1825.--Discourse on the
Completion of the Monument, 17th of June, 1843.--Simultaneous
Decease of Adams and Jefferson on the 4th of July, 1826.--Eulogy by
Mr. Webster in Faneuil Hall.--Address at the Laying of the
Corner-Stone of the New Wing of the Capitol.--Remarks on the
Patriotic Discourses of Mr. Webster, and on the Character of his
Eloquence in Efforts of this Class.
In 1820, on the separation of Maine, a convention became necessary in
Massachusetts to readjust the Senate; and the occasion was deemed a
favorable one for a general revision of the constitution. The various
towns in the Commonwealth were authorized by law to choose as many
delegates as they were entitled to elect members to the House of
Representatives; and a body was constituted containing much of the
talent, political experience, and weight of character of the State. Mr.
Webster was chosen one of the delegates from Boston; and, with the
exception of a few days' service, two or three years afterwards, in the
Massachusetts House of Representatives;[9] this is the only occasion on
which he ever filled any political office under the State government
either of Massachusetts or New Hampshire.
The venerable John Adams, second President of the United States, was a
delegate to this convention from Quincy. He was the author of the
original draft of the State constitution in 1780, and although his
advanced age (he was now eighty-six years old) made it impossible for
him to take an active part in the proceedings of the convention, he
received the honor of a unanimous election as president. He declined the
appointment; and Chief Justice Parker was chosen in his place.
The convention of 1820 was no doubt as respectable a political body as
ever assembled in Massachusetts; and it is no more than justice to Mr.
Webster to say, that, although he had been but a few years a citizen of
the Commonwealth, and was personally a stranger to most of his
associates, he was among the most efficient members of the body. He was
named chairman of the committee to whom the important subject of oaths
and qualifications for office was referred, and of the special committee
on that chapter of the constitution which relates to the "University at
Cambridge." Besides taking a leading part in the discussion of most of
the important subjects which were agitated in the convention, he was the
authority most deferred to on questions of order, and in that way
exercised a steady and powerful influence over the general course of its
proceedings. It is believed that on this occasion the practice of
considering business in committee of the whole body was for the first
time adopted in Massachusetts; that mode of procedure never having
obtained in the legislature of the State. The dignified and efficient
manner in which the duties of the chair were performed by Mr. Webster,
whenever he was called to occupy it, was matter of general remark. It
has often been a subject of regret with those who witnessed the uncommon
aptitude evinced by him on these, as on similar occasions at Washington,
for the discharge of the duties of presiding officer of a deliberative
assembly, that he was never, during his Congressional career, called to
the important office of Speaker of the House of Representatives.
Considering the relation of the House to the political condition of the
country, there is no position under the government which bears more
directly upon the general character of the public counsels. The place
has occasionally, both in former times and recently, been filled with
great ability; but it has more frequently happened that speakers have
been chosen from considerations of political expediency, and without
regard to personal qualifications and fitness for the office. The
effect has been highly prejudicial to the tone of the House, and its
consequent estimation in the country. It has frequently happened that
the decisions of the Speaker, as such, have commanded no respect. An
appeal has been taken from them almost as a matter of course. The state
of things is very different in the body most nearly resembling the
houses of Congress. Such a thing as an appeal from the decision of the
Speaker on a point of order is hardly known in the British House of
Commons, and the disposition of all parties to acquiesce in, if not to
support, the decisions of the chair, is one of the characteristic
features of that assembly.
The proceedings of the Massachusetts convention were ably reported, from
day to day, in the Boston Daily Advertiser; but a contemporary report
usually implies much abridgment of the speeches. Much that was said by
Mr. Webster, as by other prominent speakers, appeared but in a condensed
form; and it is believed, that, even when reported at greatest length
and with most care, it was without the advantage of personal revision by
the speakers. The third volume of the present collection contains Mr.
Webster's remarks on those provisions of the constitution which related
to oaths of office and formed a kind of religious test, which Mr.
Webster was disposed to abolish; a speech upon the basis of senatorial
representation; and another upon the independence of the judiciary.
In the speech on the basis of the Senate, Mr. Webster defended the
principle, which was incorporated into the original constitution, and
is recognized by the liberal writers of greatest authority on
government, that due regard should be had to property in establishing
a basis of representation. He showed the connection between the
security of republican liberty and this principle. He first called
attention in this country to the fact, that this important principle was
originally developed in Harrington's Oceana, a work much studied by
our Revolutionary fathers. The practical consequence which Mr. Webster
deduced from the principle was, that constitutional and legal
provision ought to be made to produce the utmost possible diffusion
and equality of property.
It is a melancholy instance of the injustice of party, that these views
of Mr. Webster, which contain the philosophy of constitutional
republicanism as distinct from a mere democracy of numbers, have, even
down to the present day, served as the basis of a charge against him of
anti-popular principles. Having observed in the speech referred to,
"that it would seem to be the part of political wisdom to found
government on property, and to establish such a distribution of property
by the laws which regulate its transmission and alienation, as to
interest the great majority of society in the protection of the
government," the former part of this sentence has often been quoted as a
substantive rule in favor of a moneyed aristocracy, and the latter
uncandidly suppressed. It is hardly necessary to observe, that the point
at issue was the constitution of the senatorial districts on the basis
of the valuation; and that it was never proposed by Mr. Webster, or by
any body else, to apply the principle to individuals. The poor man in
the rich senatorial district possessed as much political power as his
wealthy neighbor. The principle, in fact, is but another form of that
which gave the first impulse to the American Revolution, namely, that
representation and taxation ought to go hand in hand.
While the Massachusetts convention was in session, Mr. Webster appeared
before the public in another department of intellectual effort, and with
the most distinguished success. It is hazardous for a person of great
professional eminence to venture out of his sphere; perhaps the
experiment has never before been so triumphantly made. In 1820, Mr.
Webster was invited by the Pilgrim Society at Plymouth to deliver a
discourse on the great anniversary of New England, the ever-memorable
22d of December. Several circumstances contributed on this occasion to
the interest of the day. The peaceful surrender by Massachusetts of a
portion of her territory, greatly exceeding in magnitude that which she
retained, in order to form the new State of Maine, was a pleasing
exemplification of that prosperous multiplication of independent
commonwealths within the limits of the Union, which forms one of the
most distinctive features in our history. It was as much an alienation
of territory from the local jurisdiction of Massachusetts, as if it had
been ceded to Great Britain, and yet the alienation was cordially made.
At this very time a controversy existed between the United States and
England, relative to the conflicting title of the two governments to a
very small portion, and that the least valuable part, of the same
territory, which, after the aggravations and irritations of forty years
of controversy, was in 1842 adjusted by Mr. Webster and Lord Ashburton,
at a moment when war seemed all but inevitable. In any other country or
age of the world, Maine could have been severed from Massachusetts only
by a bloody revolution. Their amicable separation by mutual consent,
although neither the first nor the second similar event in the United
States, was still an occurrence which carried back the reflections of
thoughtful men to the cradle of New England.
These reflections gathered interest from the convention then in session.
It was impossible not to feel with unusual force the contrast between
the circumstances under which the first simple compact of government,
the germ of the American constitutions, was drawn up on board the
Mayflower, and those under which the assembled experience, wisdom, and
patriotism of the State were now engaged in reorganizing the government.
Several of the topics which presented themselves to Mr. Webster's mind,
and were discussed by him at Plymouth, had entered into the debates of
the convention a few days before. Still more, the close of the second
century from the landing of the Fathers, with all its mighty series of
events in the social, political, and moral world, gave the highest
interest to the occasion. Six New England generations were to pass in
review. It was an anniversary which could be celebrated nowhere else as
it could be at Plymouth. It was such an anniversary, with its store of
traditions, comparisons, and anticipations, as none then living could
witness again. The Pilgrim Society gave utterance to the unanimous
feeling of the community, in calling upon Mr. Webster to speak for the
whole people of New England, at home and abroad, on this great
occasion.
The discourse delivered by him in pursuance of their invitation, in some
respects the most remarkable of his performances, begins the series of
his works contained in the present collection. The felicity and spirit
with which its descriptive portions are executed; the affecting tribute
which it pays to the memory of the Pilgrims; the moving picture of their
sufferings on both sides of the water; the masterly exposition and
analysis of those institutions to which the prosperity of New England
under Providence is owing; the eloquent inculcation of those great
principles of republicanism on which our American commonwealths are
founded; the instructive survey of the past, the sublime anticipations
of the future of America,--have long since given this discourse a
classical celebrity. Several of its soul-stirring passages have become
as household words throughout the country. They are among the most
favorite of the extracts contained in the school-books. An entire
generation of young men have derived from this noble performance some of
their first lessons in the true principles of American republicanism. It
obtained at once a wide circulation throughout the country, and gave to
Mr. Webster a position among the popular writers and speakers of the
United States scarcely below that which he had already attained as a
lawyer and a statesman. It is doubtful whether any extra-professional
literary effort by a public man has attained equal celebrity.
In the course of a few years, when the corner-stone of the Bunker Hill
Monument was to be laid, on the fiftieth anniversary of the battle, the
general expectation again pointed to Mr. Webster as the orator of the
day. This, too, was a great national and patriotic anniversary. For the
first time, and after the lapse of a half-century, the commencement of
the war of the American Revolution was to be publicly celebrated under
novel, significant, and highly affecting circumstances. Fifty years had
extinguished all the unkindly associations of the day, and raised it
from the narrow sphere of local history to a high place in the annals of
the world. A great confederacy had sprung from the blood of Bunker Hill.
This was too important an event in the history of the world to be
surrendered to hostile and party feeling. No friend of representative
government in England had reason to deplore the foundation of the
American republics. No one can doubt that the development of the
representative principle in this country has contributed greatly to
promote the cause of Parliamentary reform in Great Britain. Other
considerations gave great interest to the festival of the 17th of June,
1825. Fifty years of national life, fortune, and experience, not
exhibiting in their detail an unvarying series of prosperity, (for it
was fifty years in the history, not of angels, but of men,) but
assuredly not surpassed in the grand aggregate by any half-century in
the annals of the world, were now brought to a close. Vast as the
contrast was in the condition of the country at the beginning and close
of the period, there were still living venerable men who had acted
prominent and efficient parts in the opening scenes of the drama. Men
who had shared the perils of 1775 shared the triumph of the jubilee.
More than a hundred of the heroes of the battle were among the joyous
participators in this great festival. Not the least affecting incident
of the celebration was the presence of Lafayette, who had hastened from
his more than royal progress through the Union to take a part in the
ceremonial.
It is unnecessary to say, that on such an occasion, with all these
circumstances addressed to the imaginations and the thoughts of men, in
the presence of a vast multitude of the intelligent population of
Massachusetts and the other New England States, with no inconsiderable
attendance of kindred and descendants from every part of the Union, an
address from such an orator as Mr. Webster, on such a platform, on such
a theme, in the flower of his age and the maturity of his faculties,
discoursing upon an occasion of transcendent interest, and kindling with
the enthusiasm of the day and the spot, may well be regarded as an
intellectual treat of the highest order. Happy the eyes that saw that
most glorious gathering! Happy the ears that heard the heart-stirring
strain!
Scarcely inferior in interest was the anniversary celebration, when the
Bunker Hill Monument was finally completed, in 1843, and Mr. Webster
again consented to address the immense multitude which the ceremonial
could not fail to bring together. In addition to all the other sources
of public interest belonging to the occasion, the completion itself of
the structure was one to which the community attached great importance.
It had been an object steadily pursued, under circumstances of
considerable discouragement, by a large number of liberal and patriotic
individuals, for nearly a quarter of a century. The great work was now
finished; and the most important event in the history of New England was
henceforward commemorated by a monument destined, in all human
probability, to last as long as any work erected by the hands of man.
The thrill of admiration which ran through the assembled thousands,
when, at the commencement of his discourse on that occasion, Mr. Webster
apostrophized the monument itself as the mute orator of the day, has
been spoken of by those who had the good fortune to be present as an
emotion beyond the power of language to describe. The gesture, the look,
the tone of the speaker, as he turned to the majestic shaft, seemed to
invest it with a mysterious life; and men held their breath as if a
solemn voice was about to come down from its towering summit. This
address does not appear to have had the advantage possessed by those of
Plymouth in 1820, and of Bunker Hill in 1825, in having been written out
for the press by Mr. Webster. It seems to have been prepared for
publication from the reporter's notes, with some hasty revision,
perhaps, by the author.
On the 4th of July, 1826, occurred the extraordinary coincidence of the
deaths of Adams and Jefferson, within a few hours of each other, on the
fiftieth anniversary of the Declaration of Independence; an event with
which they were both so closely connected, as members of the committee
by which the ever-memorable state paper was prepared and brought into
the Continental Congress. The public mind was already predisposed for
patriotic emotions and sentiments of every kind by many conspiring
causes. The recency of the Revolutionary contest, sufficiently
illustrated by the fact that many of those engaged in it were still
alive and had been the subjects of liberal provision by Congress; the
complete, though temporary, fusion of parties, producing for a few years
a political lull, never witnessed to the same extent before or since;
the close of the half-century from the commencement of the Revolutionary
War, and the commemoration of its early conflicts on many of the spots
where they occurred; the foundation of the Bunker Hill Monument, and of
a similar work on a smaller scale at Concord; the visit of Lafayette;
abroad, the varying scenes of the Greek revolution and the popular
movement in many other parts of Europe,--united in exciting the public
mind in this country. They kindled to new fervor the susceptible and
impulsive American temperament. The simultaneous decease of the
illustrious patriarchs of the Revolution, under these circumstances of
coincidence, fell upon a community already prepared to be deeply
affected. It touched a tender chord, which vibrated from one end of the
Union to the other. The affecting event was noticed throughout the
country. Cities and States vied with each other in demonstrations of
respect for the memory of the departed. The heart of the country poured
itself forth in one general utterance of reverential feeling. Nowhere
was the wonderful event noticed with greater earnestness and solemnity
of public sentiment than in Boston. Faneuil Hall was shrouded in black.
Perhaps for the first time since its erection an organ was placed in the
gallery, and a sublime funeral service was performed. It is unnecessary
to dwell upon the effect of preparations like these upon an intelligent
audience, assembled under highly wrought feeling. They produced a tone
of mind in unison with the magnificent effort of thought which was to
follow.
It has, perhaps, never been the fortune of an orator to treat a subject
in all respects so extraordinary as that which called forth the eulogy
on Adams and Jefferson; a subject in which the characters commemorated,
the field of action, the magnitude of the events, and the peculiar
personal relations, were so important and unusual. Certainly it is not
extravagant to add, that no similar effort of oratory was ever more
completely successful. The speech ascribed to John Adams in the
Continental Congress, on the subject of declaring the independence of
the Colonies,--a speech of which the topics of course present themselves
on the most superficial consideration of the subject, but of which a few
hints only of what was actually said are supplied by the letters and
diaries of Mr. Adams,--is not excelled by any thing of the kind in our
language. Few things have taken so strong a hold of the public mind. It
thrills and delights alike the student of history, who recognizes it at
once as the creation of the orator, and the common reader, who takes it
to be the composition, not of Mr. Webster, but of Mr. Adams. From the
time the eulogy was delivered to the present day, the inquiry has been
often made and repeated, sometimes even in letters addressed to Mr.
Webster himself, whether this exquisite appeal is his or Mr. Adams's. An
answer to a letter of this kind will be found appended to the eulogy in
the present edition.
These discourses, with the exception of the second Bunker Hill
Address, were delivered within about five years of each other; the
first on the 22d of December, 1820, the last on the 2d of August, 1826.
With the exception named, Mr. Webster has excused himself from the
delivery of public addresses of this class, though continually invited
from almost every part of the country and upon occasions of every kind.
Within the last twelvemonth, however, he has yielded himself to the
peculiar and urgent condition of public affairs, and has addressed his
fellow-citizens on several occasions not immediately connected with
senatorial or professional duty, and with the power and felicity
which mark his earlier efforts. The most remarkable of these recent
addresses is his speech delivered at Washington on the 4th of July,
1851, at the ceremonial of the laying of the corner-stone of the
addition to the Capitol. This ceremonial, itself of no ordinary
interest, and the aspect of public affairs under which it was performed,
gave a peculiar fervor and solemnity to Mr. Webster's treatment of the
subject. Never, perhaps, were the principles to which the great day is
consecrated unfolded in a few paragraphs with greater precision and
comprehensiveness; or the auspicious influence of these principles on
the progress of the country more happily set forth. The contrast
between the United States of 1793, when the corner-stone of the original
Capitol was laid by President Washington, and the United States of 1851,
when this enlargement became necessary, is brought out with great skill
and discrimination. The appeal to the Southern States, whether the
government under which the Union has grown and prospered is a
blessing or a curse to the country, is a burst of the highest
eloquence. The allusion and apostrophe to Washington will be rehearsed
by the generous youth of America as long as the English language is
spoken on this side of the Atlantic Ocean.
This great oration, perhaps not premeditated so carefully, as far as the
mere language is concerned, as those of an earlier date with which we
have classed it, is not inferior to either of them in the essentials of
patriotic eloquence. It belongs, in common with them, to a species of
oratory neither forensic, nor parliamentary, nor academical; and which
might perhaps conveniently enough be described by the epithet which we
have just applied to it,--the patriotic. These addresses are strongly
discriminated from the forensic and the parliamentary class of speeches,
in being from the nature of the case more elaborately prepared. The
public taste in a highly cultivated community would not admit, in a
performance of this kind, those marks of extemporaneous execution,
which it not only tolerates, but admires, in the unpremeditated efforts
of the senate and the bar. The latter shines to greatest advantage in
happy impromptu strokes, whether of illustration or argument; the former
admits, and therefore demands, the graceful finish of a mature
preparation.[10]
It is not, indeed, to be supposed, that an orator like Mr. Webster is
slavishly tied down, on any occasion, to his manuscript notes, or to a
_memoriter_ repetition of their contents. It may be presumed that in
many cases the noblest and the boldest flights, the last and warmest
tints thrown upon the canvas, in discourses of this kind, were the
unpremeditated inspiration of the moment of delivery. The opposite view
would be absurd, because it would imply that the mind, under the high
excitement of delivery, was less fertile and creative than in the repose
of the closet. A speaker could not, if he attempted it, anticipate in
his study the earnestness and fervor of spirit induced by actual contact
with the audience; he could not by any possibility forestall the
sympathetic influence upon his imagination and intellect of the
listening and applauding throng. However severe the method required by
the nature of the occasion, or dictated by his own taste, a speaker like
Mr. Webster will not often confine himself "to pouring out fervors a
week old."
The orator who would do justice to a great theme or a great occasion
must thoroughly study and understand the subject; he must accurately,
and if possible minutely, digest in writing beforehand the substance,
and even the form, of his address; otherwise, though he may speak ably,
he will be apt not to make in all respects an able speech. He must
entirely possess himself beforehand of the main things which he wishes
to say, and then throw himself upon the excitement of the moment and the
sympathy of the audience. In those portions of his discourse which are
didactic or narrative, he will not be likely to wander, in any
direction, far from his notes; although even in those portions new
facts, illustrations, and suggestions will be apt to spring up before
him as he proceeds. But when the topic rises, when the mind kindles from
within, and the strain becomes loftier, or bolder, or more pathetic,
when the sacred fountain of tears is ready to overflow, and audience and
speaker are moved by one kindred sympathetic passion, then the
thick-coming fancies cannot be kept down, the storehouse of the memory
is unlocked, images start up from the slumber of years, and all that the
orator has seen, read, heard, or felt returns in distinct shape and
vivid colors. The cold and premeditated text will no longer suffice for
the glowing thought. The stately, balanced phrase gives place to some
abrupt, graphic expression, that rushes unbidden to his lips. The
unforeseen incident or locality furnishes an apt and speaking image; and
the discourse instinctively transposes itself into a higher key.
Many illustrations of these remarks may be found in the following
volumes. We may refer particularly to the address to the survivors of
the Revolution and the apostrophe to Warren in the first discourse on
Bunker Hill. These were topics too obvious and essential, in an address
on laying the corner-stone of the monument, to have been omitted in the
orator's notes prepared beforehand. But no one will think that the
entire apostrophe to Warren, as it stands in the reported speech, was
elaborated in the closet and committed to memory. In fact there is a
slight grammatical inaccuracy, caused by passing from the third person
to the second in the same sentence, which is at once the natural
consequence and the proof of an unpremeditated expansion or elevation of
the preconceived idea. We see the process. When the sentence commenced,
"But, ah! him!" it was evidently in the mind of the orator to close it
by saying, "How shall I speak of him?" But in the progress of the
sentence, forgetful, unconscious, of the grammatical form, but melting
with the thought, beholding, as he stood upon the spot where the hero
fell, his beloved and beautiful image rising from the ground, he can no
longer speak of him. Willing subject of his own witchery, he clothes his
conception with sensible forms, and speaks _to_ the glorious being whom
he has called back to life. He no longer attempts to discourse of Warren
to the audience, but passing, after a few intervening clauses, from the
third person to the second, he exclaims, "How shall I struggle with the
emotions that stifle the utterance of _thy_ name! Our poor work may
perish, but thine shall endure! This monument may moulder away; the
solid ground it rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea; but
thy memory shall not fail!"
FOOTNOTES
[9] Mr. Webster makes the following playful allusion to this
circumstance in a speech at a public dinner in Syracuse (New
York), in the month of May of the present year:--
"It has so happened that all the public services which I have
rendered in the world, in my day and generation, have been
connected with the general government. I think I ought to make
an exception. I was ten days a member of the Massachusetts
legislature, and I turned my thoughts to the search for some
good object in which I could be useful in that position; and,
after much reflection, I introduced a bill which, with the
general consent of both houses of the Massachusetts legislature,
passed into a law, and is now a law of the State, which enacts
that no man in the State shall catch trout in any other manner
than in the old way, with an ordinary hook and line."
[10] The leading ideas in this and the following paragraph may be found
in a review of Mr. Webster's Speeches, in the North American
Review, Vol. XLI. p. 241, written by the author of this Memoir.
CHAPTER V.
Election to Congress from Boston.--State of Parties.--Meeting of the
Eighteenth Congress.--Mr. Webster's Resolution and Speech in favor
of the Greeks.--Argument in the Supreme Court in the Case of Gibbons
and Ogden.--Circumstances under which it was made.--Speech on the
Tariff Law of 1824.--A complete Revision of the Law for the
Punishment of Crimes against the United States reported by Mr.
Webster, and enacted.--The Election of Mr. Adams as President of the
United States.--Meeting of the Nineteenth Congress, and State of
Parties.--Congress of Panama, and Mr. Webster's Speech on that
Subject.--Election as a Senator of the United States.--Revision of
the Tariff Law by the Twentieth Congress.--Embarrassments of the
Question.--Mr. Webster's Course and Speech on this Subject.
In the autumn of 1822, Mr. Webster consented to be a candidate for
Congress for the city (then town) of Boston, and was chosen by a very
large majority over his opponent, Mr. Jesse Putnam. The former party
distinctions, as has been already observed, had nearly lost their
significance in Massachusetts, as in some other parts of the country.
As a necessary, or at least a natural consequence of this state of
things, four candidates had already been brought forward for the
Presidential election of November, 1824; namely, Mr. John Quincy Adams
of Massachusetts, Mr. Clay of Kentucky, General Jackson of Tennessee,
and Mr. Crawford of Georgia. Mr. Calhoun of South Carolina and Mr.
Lowndes of the same State had also both been nominated by their
friends at an early period of the canvass; but the latter was soon
removed by death, and Mr. Calhoun withdrew his pretensions in favor of
General Jackson. All the candidates named had either originally belonged
to the old Democratic party (or Republican party as it was then more
usually called), or had for many years attached themselves to it; but
no one of them was supported on that ground. Mr. Crawford alone had
attempted to avail himself of the ancient party machinery, so far as to
accept a nomination by a Congressional caucus of his friends. They
formed, however, but a minority of the Republican members of Congress,
and the signal failure of the nomination contributed to the final
abandonment of that mode of procedure. No Presidential candidate has
since been nominated by a Congressional caucus. In the canvass of
1824, it was the main effort of the friends of all the candidates, by
holding out the prospect of a liberal basis of administration, to draw
to themselves as many as possible of the old Federal party. In
Massachusetts, and generally in New England, the fusion of parties was
complete, and Mr. Adams received their united support. In the Middle
States the union was less perfect, and the votes of a large proportion
of the old Federal party were given to General Jackson and Mr.
Crawford.
The Congressional elections in Massachusetts are held a year in advance.
It was not till December, 1823, that Mr. Webster took his seat as a
member of the Eighteenth Congress. It has rarely happened to an
individual, by engaging in public life, to make an equal sacrifice of
personal interest. Born to an inheritance of poverty, struggling through
youth and early manhood against all the difficulties of straitened means
and a narrow sphere, he had risen above them all, and was now in an
advantageous position, at the height of his reputation, receiving as
great a professional income as any lawyer in the United States, and
rapidly laying the foundation of an ample independence. All this was to
be put at risk for the hazardous uncertainties, and the scarcely less
hazardous certainties, of public life. It was not till after repeated
refusals of a nomination to both houses of Congress, that Mr. Webster
was at last called upon, in a manner which seemed to him imperative, to
make the great sacrifice. In fact, it may truly be said, that, to an
individual of his commanding talent and familiarity with political
affairs, and consequent ability to take a lead in the public business,
the question whether he shall do so is hardly submitted to his option.
It is one of the great privileges of second-rate men, that they are
permitted in some degree to follow the bent of their inclinations. It
was the main inducement of Mr. Webster in returning to political life,
that the cessation of the coarse conflicts of party warfare seemed to
hold out some hope that statesmanship of a higher order, an impartial
study of the great interests of the country, and a policy aiming to
promote the development of its vast natural resources, might be called
into action.
Although the domestic politics of the United States were in a condition
of repose, the politics of Europe at this time were disturbed and
anxious. Revolutions had within a few years broken out in Naples,
Piedmont, and Spain; while in Greece a highly interesting struggle was
in progress, between the Christian population of that country and the
government of their Ottoman oppressors. At an early period of this
contest, it had attracted much notice in the United States. A
correspondence had been opened between an accredited committee of the
Grecian patriots sitting at Paris, with the celebrated Koray at their
head, and friends of the cause of Greece in this country;[11] and a
formal appeal had been made to the people of the United States, by the
Messenian Senate of Kalamata, the first revolutionary congress which
assembled in Greece. President Monroe, both in his annual message of
December, 1822, and in that of 1823, had expressed respect and sympathy
for their cause. The attention of Congress being thus called to the
subject, Mr. Webster thought it a favorable opportunity to speak an
emphatic word, from a quarter whence it would be respected, in favor of
those principles of rational liberty and enlightened progress which were
seeking to extend themselves in Europe. As the great strength of the
Grecian patriots was to be derived, not from the aid of the governments
of Christendom, but from the public opinion and the sympathy of the
civilized world, he felt that they had a peculiar right to expect some
demonstration of friendly feeling from the only powerful republican
state. He was also evidently willing to embrace the opportunity of
entering an American protest against the doctrines which had been
promulgated in the manifestoes of the recent congresses of the European
sovereigns.
Till the administration of Mr. Jefferson, it had been the custom of
the two houses to return answers to the annual messages of the
President. These answers furnished Congress with the means of
responding to the executive suggestions. As much time was often
consumed in debating these answers, (a consumption of time not
directly leading to any legislative result,) and as differences in
opinion between Congress and the executive, if they existed, were thus
prematurely developed, it was thought a matter of convenience, when Mr.
Jefferson came into power, to depart from the usage. But though
attended with evils, it had its advantages. The opportunity of general
political debate, under a government like ours, if not furnished,
will be taken. The constituencies look to their representatives to
discuss public questions. It will perhaps be found, on comparing
the proceedings of Congress at the present day with what they were
fifty years ago, that, although the general debate on the answer to
the President's message has been retrenched, there is in the course
of the session quite as much discussion of topics incidentally
brought in, and often to the serious obstruction of the public
business, at the advanced stages of the session.
Whatever may be thought of this as a general principle, President
Monroe, as we have seen, having in two successive annual messages called
the attention of Congress to this subject, Mr. Webster, by way of
response to these allusions, at an early period of the session offered
the following resolution in the House of Representatives:--
"_Resolved_, That provision ought to be made by law for defraying
the expense incident to the appointment of an agent or commissioner
to Greece, whenever the President shall deem it expedient to make
such appointment."
His speech in support of this resolution was delivered on the 19th of
January, 1824, in the presence of an immense audience, brought together
by the interesting nature of the subject and by the fame of the speaker,
now returned, after six years' absence, to the field where he had
gathered early laurels, and to which he had now come back with greatly
augmented reputation. The public expectation was highly excited; and it
is but little to say, that it was entirely fulfilled. The speech was
conceived and executed with rare felicity; and was as remarkable for
what it did not, as for what it did contain. To a subject on which it
was almost impossible to avoid a certain strain of classical sentiment,
Mr. Webster brought a chastened taste and a severe logic. He indulged in
no _ad captandum_ reference to the topics which lay most obviously in
his way. A single allusion to Greece, as the mistress of the world in
letters and arts, found an appropriate place in the exordium. But he
neither rhapsodized about the ancients, nor denounced the Turks, nor
overflowed with Americanism. He treated, in a statesmanlike manner, what
he justly called "the great political question of the age," the question
"between absolute and regulated governments," and the duty of the United
States on fitting occasions to let their voice be heard on this
question. He concisely reviewed the doctrines of the Continental
sovereigns, as set forth in what has been called "the Holy Alliance,"
and in the manifestoes of several successive congresses. He pointed out
the inconsistency of these principles with those of self-government and
national independence, and the duty of the United States to declare
their sentiments in support of the latter. He showed that such a
declaration was inconsistent with no principle of public law, and
forbidden by no prudential consideration. He briefly sketched the
history of the Greek revolution; and having shown that his proposal was
a pacific measure, both as regards the Turkish government and the
European allies, he took leave of the subject with a few manly words of
sympathy for the Greeks.
He was supported by several leading members of the House,--by Mr. Clay,
Mr. Stevenson of Virginia, afterwards Speaker of the House and Minister
to England, and by General Houston of Tennessee; but the subject lay too
far beyond the ordinary range of legislation; it gained no strength from
the calculations of any of the Presidential candidates; it enlisted none
of the great local interests of the country; and it was not of a nature
to be pushed against opposition or indifference. It was probably with
little or no expectation of carrying it, that the resolution was moved
by Mr. Webster. His object was gained in the opportunity of expressing
himself upon the great political question of the day. His words of
encouragement were soon read in every capital and at every court of
Europe, and in every Continental language; they were received with
grateful emotion in Greece. At home the speech fully sustained Mr.
Webster's reputation, not merely for parliamentary talent, but for an
acquaintance with general politics, which few public men in the United
States give themselves the trouble to acquire,--even among those who are
selected to represent the country abroad. In a letter from Mr. Jeremiah
Mason, a person whose judgment on a matter of this kind was entitled to
as much respect as that of any man in the community, this speech is
pronounced "the best sample of parliamentary eloquence and statesmanlike
reasoning which our country can show."
It was during this session, that Mr. Webster made his great argument
in the Supreme Court of the United States in the case of Gibbons and
Ogden, to which we have already alluded. It must increase the
admiration with which this great constitutional effort is read, to
know that the case came on in court a week or ten days earlier than Mr.
Webster expected, and that it was late in the afternoon, after a
severe debate in the House of Representatives on some of the details
of the tariff bill, that he received the intimation that he must be
ready to go into court and argue the cause the next morning. At this
time his brief was not drawn out; and the statement of the argument,
the selecting of the authorities, and the final digest of his
materials, whether of reasoning or fact, were to be the work of the
few intervening hours. It is superfluous to say that there was no long
space for rest or sleep; though it seems hardly credible that the only
specific premeditation of such an argument before such a tribunal
should have been in the stolen watches of one night.
In the course of this session Mr. Webster, besides taking a leading
part in the discussion of the details of the tariff law of 1824, made
a carefully prepared speech, in reply to Mr. Clay, on some of the
principles upon which he had supported it. His exposition of the
popular errors on the subject of the balance of trade may be referred
to as a very happy specimen of philosophical reasoning applied to
commercial questions. Mr. Webster did not contest the constitutional
right of Congress to lay duties for the protection of manufactures.
He opposed the bill on grounds of expediency, drawn from the condition
of the country at the time, and from the unfriendly bearing of some of
its provisions on the navigating interests. He was the representative
of the principal commercial city of New England. The great majority of
his constituents were opposed to the bill; one member only from
Massachusetts voted in its favor. The last sentence of the speech
shows the general view which he took of the provisions of the act as a
whole: "There are some parts of this bill which I highly approve; there
are others in which I should acquiesce; but those to which I have now
stated my objections appear to me so destitute of all justice, so
burdensome and so dangerous to that interest which has steadily
enriched, gallantly defended, and proudly distinguished us, that nothing
can prevail upon me to give it my support." This sentence sufficiently
shows with how little justice it was asserted, in 1828, that Mr.
Webster had, in 1824, declared an uncompromising hostility to all
legislative provision for the encouragement and protection of
manufactures.
No subject of great popular interest came up for debate in the second
session of the Eighteenth Congress, but the attention of Mr. Webster, as
chairman of the Judiciary Committee, was assiduously devoted to a
subject of great practical importance; brought forward entirely without
ostentation or display, but inferior in interest to scarce any act of
legislation since the first organization of the government. We refer to
the act of the 3d of March, 1825, "more effectually to provide for the
punishment of certain crimes against the United States, and for other
purposes." This chapter in the legislation of the United States had been
comparatively overlooked. The original act of the 30th of April, 1790,
"for the punishment of certain crimes against the United States,"
deserves, in common with much of the legislation of the First Congress,
the praise of great sagacity and foresight in anticipating the wants and
the operation of the new system of government. Still, however, there was
a class of cases, arising out of the complex nature of our system, and
the twofold jurisdiction existing in the United States, which, being
entirely novel in the history of other governments, was scarcely to be
provided for in advance. The analysis of the English constitution here
failed the able men upon whom it devolved to put the new system of
government in operation. It is to be wondered at, not that some things
were overlooked, but that so many were provided for.
Of the cases left thus unprovided for, more perhaps were to be found in
the judiciary department than in any other. Many crimes committed on
shipboard, beyond the jurisdiction of any State, or in places within the
Union excepted from State jurisdiction, were unprovided for. Statutes
had been enacted from time to time to supply these deficiencies; but the
subject does not appear at any time to have attracted the special
attention of any one whose professional knowledge and weight of
character qualified him to propose a remedy. It was at length taken up
by Mr. Webster, in the second session of the Eighteenth Congress. It
fell appropriately within the sphere of the Committee on the Judiciary,
of which he was chairman; and his own extensive practice in the courts
both of the United States and of the separate States had made him well
acquainted with the defects of the existing laws. He accordingly drew
up what finally passed the two houses, as the sixty-fifth chapter of the
laws of the second session of the Eighteenth Congress, and procured the
assent of the Committee on the Judiciary to report it to the House. Some
amendments of no great moment were made to it on its passage, partly on
the motion of Mr. Webster himself; and partly on the suggestion of other
members of the House. As it finally passed, in twenty-six sections, it
covered all the cases which had occurred in the thirty-five years which
had elapsed since the law of 1790 was enacted; and it amounted to a
brief, but comprehensive, code of the criminal jurisprudence of the
United States, as distinct from that of the separate States.
It was Mr. Webster's object in this statute, not to enact theoretical
reforms, but to remedy practical evils; to make provision for crimes
which, for want of jurisdiction, had hitherto gone unpunished. It was
objected to the bill, on its passage through the House, that it created
a considerable number of capital offences. But these were already, in
every case, capital offences either at common law or by the criminal law
of the States, whenever the State tribunals were competent to take
cognizance of them. It was the effect of Mr. Webster's act, not to
create new offences, but to bring within the reach of a proper tribunal
crimes recognized as such by all the codes of law, but which had
hitherto escaped with impunity between separate jurisdictions. The bill
was received with great favor by the House. Mr. Buchanan said that he
highly approved its general features. "It was a disgrace," he added, "to
our system of laws, that no provision had ever been made for the
punishment of the crimes which it embraced, when committed in places
within the jurisdiction of the United States." An eloquent argument was
made by Mr. Livingston of Louisiana in favor of substituting lower
penalties for capital punishment, but he failed to satisfy the House of
the expediency of so great a revolution in our criminal jurisprudence.
Some slight modifications of the bill were conceded to the sensitiveness
of those who apprehended encroachment on State jurisdiction; but it
passed substantially in the form in which it was reported by Mr.
Webster. Twenty-seven years' experience have shown it to be one of the
most valuable laws in the statute-book.
At this session of Congress the election of a President of the United
States devolved upon the House of Representatives, in default of a
popular choice. The votes of the electoral colleges were ninety-nine for
General Jackson, eighty-four for Mr. Adams, forty-one for Mr. Crawford,
and thirty-seven for Mr. Clay. This was the second time since the
adoption of the Constitution, in 1789, that such an event had occurred.
The other case was in 1801, and under the Constitution in its original
form, which required the electoral colleges to vote for two persons,
without designating which of the two was to be President, and which
Vice-President, the choice between the two to be decided by plurality.
The Republican candidates, Thomas Jefferson and Aaron Burr, having
received each an equal number of votes, it devolved upon the House of
Representatives to designate one of them as President. The Constitution
was immediately amended so as to require the candidates for the two
offices to be designated as such in the electoral colleges; so that
precisely such a case as that of 1801 can never recur. In 1824, however,
no person having received a majority of all the votes, it became
necessary for the House to choose a President from among the three
candidates having the highest number. On these occasions the House
votes, not _per capita_, but by States, the delegation of each State
choosing its teller. Mr. Webster was appointed teller for the
Massachusetts delegation. The number of States was twenty-four, and the
tellers were seated in parties of twelve at two tables. Mr. Webster was
appointed by the tellers at one of the tables to announce the result of
the balloting; Mr. Randolph was appointed to the same service at the
other table. The result was declared to be, for Mr. Adams thirteen
votes, for General Jackson seven, and for Mr. Crawford four. The votes
of most of the States were matters of confident calculation beforehand;
those of Maryland and New York were in some degree doubtful. The former
was supposed to depend upon the decision of Mr. Warfield; the latter on
that of General Van Rensselaer. Mr. Webster possessed the political
confidence of both these gentlemen; and is believed to have exerted a
decisive influence in leading them to vote for Mr. Adams.
Mr. Webster had been elected to the Nineteenth Congress in the
autumn of 1824, by a vote of four thousand nine hundred and ninety out
of five thousand votes cast, the nearest approach to unanimity in a
Congressional election, perhaps, that ever took place. The session
which began in December, 1825, was of course the first session under
Mr. Adams's administration. The brief armistice in party warfare
which existed under Mr. Monroe was over. The friends of General Jackson
_en masse_, most of the friends of Mr. Crawford, and a portion of those
of Mr. Clay, joined in a violent opposition to the new administration.
It would be impossible in this place to unfold the griefs, the
interests, the projects, the jealousies, and the mutual struggles, of
the leaders and the factions, who, with no community of political
principle, entered into this warfare. The absence of any well-defined
division of parties, like that which had formerly existed, gave wide
scope to personal intrigue and sectional preference. Although,
estimated in reference to individual suffrages, Mr. Adams had
received a popular majority; and although he was selected from the
three highest candidates by an absolute majority of the States
voting in the House of Representatives, and by a very large plurality
over both his competitors, yet, as General Jackson had received a
small plurality of votes in the electoral colleges (but a little
more, however, than a third part of the entire electoral vote), he
stood before the masses as a candidate wrongfully deprived of the place
to which he was designated by the popular choice. Great sensibility
was evinced at this defeat of the "Will of the People"; and none
seemed to feel the wrong more than a portion of the friends of that
one of the three candidates who had received the smallest vote, but
whom there had been, nevertheless, a confident hope of electing in the
House. The prejudice against Mr. Adams arising from this source
derived strength from the widely circulated calumny of a corrupt
understanding between him and Mr. Clay. The bare suspicion of an
arrangement between party leaders to help each other into office,
however groundless in point of fact, and however disproved by all the
testimony which could be brought to bear on a negative proposition, was
sufficient seriously to affect the popularity of both parties.
Great talent, the amplest civil experience, and the purest patriotism
are an inadequate basis of strength for an administration. If the
capricious and ill-defined element of what is called popularity is
wanting, all else is of little avail. Mr. Adams's administration was
conducted with the highest ability; it was incorruptible; it was
frugal; it was tolerant of opponents to its own injury. With the
exception of half a dozen editors of newspapers warmly opposed to the
administration, from whom the trifling privilege of printing the
laws was withdrawn, no one was removed from office for political
opinion. But the administration was unpopular, and was doomed from its
formation. It was supported by very able men in both houses of
Congress, and of these Mr. Webster was by all acknowledgment the chief.
But it failed to command the confidence of a numerical majority of the
people.
The leading measure of the first session of the Nineteenth Congress was
the Congress of Panama. Mr. Adams had announced in his message at the
commencement of the session, that an invitation to the congress had been
accepted, and that "ministers on the part of the United States would be
commissioned to attend its deliberations." In announcing this purpose,
it is probable that the President regarded himself as within the
ordinary limits of executive discretion. The power of nominating
ambassadors and other public ministers is given by the Constitution to
the President alone. No laws for the establishment of any particular
missions have ever been passed, nor has any control been exercised over
them by Congress beyond determining the salaries of the ministers of
different ranks, and making the annual appropriations for their payment.
The executive is manifestly the sole depositary of the knowledge of the
foreign relations of the country which is necessary to determine what
missions ought to be established. Notwithstanding these obvious
considerations and constitutional principles, the novel and anomalous
character of the proposed Congress afforded a temptation to the
opposition too strong to be resisted. The President's announcement
formed the great point of attack during the first session of the new
Congress. The confirmation of the ministers was vigorously resisted in
the Senate, and the resolution declaring the expediency of making the
requisite appropriations as strenuously opposed in the House. The
mischiefs likely to result from the public discussion of the measure
showed the wisdom of those constitutional provisions on which the
President had acted. The opposition, in denying that the executive
control of foreign relations is exclusive, showed at any rate that it
ought to be, at least as far as it is made so by the Constitution. After
a lapse of twenty-six years, we can scarcely believe that any doubt
should have existed, on the part of men of judgment and discretion, that
sound policy required that the United States should be present at such a
general conference of the American powers; if for no other reason, to
observe their movements. But all the motives for such a course could not
be avowed, and of those that could, a part of the force was weakened by
the avowal. The influence of the United States was impaired in order
that the administration might be distressed.
The subject was discussed with great ability in both houses. The greater
portion of the senatorial debate was with closed doors. Mr. Webster's
speech in the House is far the ablest of those published. It raised the
question from the wretched level of party politics to the elevation of
real statesmanship. It discussed the constitutional question with a
clearness and power which make us wonder that it was ever raised; and it
unfolded the true nature of the proposed congress, as viewed in the
light of the public law. A very important topic of the speech was an
explanation of the declaration of President Monroe, in his annual
message of 1823, against the interposition of the governments of Europe
for the purpose of enabling Spain to resubjugate her former colonial
possessions on this continent. Mr. Webster pointed out the circumstances
which warranted at the time the opinion that such interposition might be
attempted; and he stated the important fact, not before known, that the
purpose on the part of the United States to resist it was deliberately
and unanimously formed by Mr. Monroe's cabinet, consisting at that time
of Messrs. Adams, Crawford, Calhoun, Southard, and Wirt. The principles
assumed in the debate on the Panama mission by the friends of Messrs.
Crawford and Calhoun were greatly at variance with the spirit and
tendency of the declaration, as they were with what has more recently
been regarded as the true Democratic doctrine in reference to the
relations of the United States to her sister republics on this
continent.
The speech on the Panama question was the most considerable effort made
by Mr. Webster in the Nineteenth Congress. In the interval of the two
sessions, in November, 1826, he was reëlected with but a show of
opposition. The eulogy upon Adams and Jefferson, of which we have
already spoken, was delivered in the month of August of this year. In
the month of June, 1827, Mr. Webster was elected to the Senate of the
United States by a large majority of the votes of the two houses of the
legislature of Massachusetts, the Hon. Mr. Mills of Northampton, who had
filled that station with great ability, having declined being a
candidate for reëlection in consequence of ill health.
The principal measure which occupied the attention of the two houses
during the first session of the Twentieth Congress was the revision of
the tariff. This measure had its origin in the distressed condition of
the woollen interest, which found itself deprived (partly by the effect
of the repeal of the duty on wool imported into Great Britain) of that
measure of protection which the tariff law of 1824 was designed to
afford. An unsuccessful attempt had been made at the last session of
Congress, to pass a law exclusively for the relief of the woollen
manufacturers; but no law having in view the protection of any one great
interest is likely to be enacted by Congress, however called for by the
particular circumstances of the case. At the present session an entire
revision of the tariff was attempted. Political considerations
unfortunately could not be excluded from the arrangements of the bill. A
majority of the two houses was in favor of protection; but in a country
so extensive as the United States, and embracing such a variety of
interests, there were different views among the friends of the policy as
to the articles to be protected and the amount of protection. This
diversity of opinions and supposed diversity of interests enabled those
wholly opposed to the principle and policy of protection, by uniting
their votes on questions of detail with members who represented local
interests, to render the bill objectionable in many parts to several of
its friends, and to reduce them to the alternative of either voting
against it, or tolerating more or less which they deemed inexpedient,
and even highly injurious. Hence it received the name of the "Bill of
Abominations."
The political motives alluded to caused the bill to be made as
acceptable as possible to Pennsylvania and the other Middle States, and
as unfavorable as possible to the leading interests of New England. The
depression of the woollen manufactures had originally caused the
revision of the tariff at this session. A heavy duty on the raw material
was one of the features of the bill. But this was represented as due to
the agricultural interest. The East, although it had now become
eminently a manufacturing region, was still the seat of an active
commerce, and largely concerned in the fisheries. The duty on molasses,
a great article of consumption with the mariners and fishermen of the
East, both in its natural form and that of cheap spirits, was doubled;
but this, it was said, was required for the benefit of the grain-growers
of the Middle States. Other provisions of this kind were introduced into
the bill, in all cases with the assistance of the votes of its
opponents, given in such a way as to render the bill as unpalatable as
possible to the Northeastern manufacturers. Mr. Webster addressed the
Senate, while the bill was before that body, exposing the objectionable
features to which we have alluded. Believing, however, that the great
article of woollens required the protection given it by the bill, and
regarding the general system of protection as the established policy of
the country and of the government, and feeling that the capital which
had been invited into manufactures by former acts of legislation was now
entitled to be sustained against the glut of foreign markets, fraudulent
invoices, and the competition of foreign labor working at starvation
wages, he gave his vote for the bill, and has ever since supported the
policy of moderate protection. He has been accused of inconsistency in
this respect; and by none more earnestly than by the friends of Mr.
Calhoun, who was one of those influential statesmen of the South by
whom, in the Fourteenth Congress, the foundation of a protective tariff
was laid on the corner-stone of the square-yard duty on domestic cotton
fabrics. But he has been sustained by the great majority of his
constituents and of the people of the Northern, Middle, and Northwestern
States; and should the prospects of success be fulfilled with which
manufactures have been attempted at the South, there is little doubt
that she will at length perceive that her own interest would be promoted
by upholding the same policy.
When the speech of Mr. Webster of 1824, in which he assigned his reasons
for voting against the tariff law of that year, is carefully compared
with his speech of 1828, just referred to, it will be found that there
is no other diversity than that which was induced by the change in the
state of the country itself in reference to its manufacturing interests,
and by the course pursued in reference to the details of the bill by
those opposed to protection _in toto_. It is the best proof of this,
that, in the former edition of Mr. Webster's works, the two speeches
were, for more easy comparison, placed side by side.
FOOTNOTES
[11] See North American Review, Vol. XVII. p. 414.
CHAPTER VI.
Election of General Jackson.--Debate on Foot's Resolution.--Subject
of the Resolution, and Objects of its Mover.--Mr. Hayne's First
Speech.--Mr. Webster's original Participation in the Debate
unpremeditated.--His First Speech.--Reply of Mr. Hayne with
increased Asperity.--Mr. Webster's Great Speech.--Its Threefold
Object.--Description of the Manner of Mr. Webster in the Delivery
of this Speech, from Mr. March's "Reminiscences of
Congress."--Reception of his Speech throughout the Country.--The
Dinner at New York.--Chancellor Kent's Remarks.--Final Disposal
of Foot's Resolution.--Report of Mr. Webster's Speech.--Mr.
Healey's Painting.
In the interval between the two sessions of the Twentieth Congress, the
Presidential election was decided. Mr. Adams and General Jackson were
the opposing candidates; and the latter was chosen by a large popular
majority. This result was brought about by the active coöperation with
General Jackson's original supporters of the friends of Mr. Calhoun, and
many of the friends of the other candidates of 1824. This coöperation
implied the combination of the most discordant materials, which did not,
however, prevent its members during the canvass from heaping the
bitterest reproaches upon Mr. Adams's administration for receiving the
support of Mr. Clay. That there was no cordiality among the component
elements of the party by which General Jackson was elevated to the chair
was soon quite apparent.
The first session of the Twenty-first Congress, that of 1829-30, is
rendered memorable in the history of Mr. Webster, as well as in the
parliamentary history of the country, by what has been called the debate
on Foot's resolution, in which Mr. Webster delivered the speech which is
usually regarded as his ablest, and which may probably with truth be
pronounced the most celebrated speech ever delivered in Congress. The
great importance of this effort will no doubt be considered as a
sufficient reason for relating somewhat in detail the circumstances
under which it was made.
The debate arose in the following manner.
On the 29th of December, 1829, Mr. Foot, one of the Senators from
Connecticut, moved the following resolution:--
"_Resolved_, That the Committee on Public Lands be instructed to
inquire and report the quantity of public lands remaining unsold
within each State and Territory, and whether it be expedient to
limit for a certain period the sales of the public lands to such
lands only as have heretofore been offered for sale, and are now
subject to entry at the _minimum_ price. And, also, whether the
office of Surveyor-General, and some of the land offices, may not be
abolished without detriment to the public interest."
There is no reason to believe that, in bringing forward this resolution,
Mr. Foot acted in concert with any other member of the Senate. When it
came up for consideration the next day, the mover stated that he had
been induced to offer the resolution from having at the last session
examined the report of the Commissioner of the Land Office, from which
it appeared that the quantity of land remaining unsold at the _minimum_
price of one dollar and twenty-five cents per acre exceeded seventy-two
millions of acres; while it appeared from the commissioner's report at
this session, that the annual demand was not likely to exceed a million
of acres at present, although of course it might be expected somewhat to
increase with the growth of the population.
This resolution, though one of inquiry only, was resisted. It was
represented by Mr. Benton of Missouri as a resolution to inquire into
the expediency of committing a great injury upon the new States of the
West. Mr. Holmes of Maine supported the resolution, as one of inquiry
into an important subject. Mr. Foot disclaimed every purpose unfriendly
to the West, and at the close of the conversation (in which Mr. Webster
took no part), it was agreed that the consideration of the resolution
should be postponed to the 11th of January, and made the special order
of the day for that day. In this manner, it often happens that a
resolution of inquiry on a business question of no urgent importance,
intended to have no political bearing, and brought forward without
concert with others by an individual, becomes by delay the theme of
impassioned debates for weeks and months, to the serious obstruction of
the real business of Congress. In the present case, it must be admitted
that the loss of the public time thus occasioned was amply made up, by
the importance of the speech which has given celebrity to the debate.
The consideration of Mr. Foot's resolution was not resumed till
Wednesday, the 13th of January, when it was opposed by several Western
gentlemen. It was next taken up on Monday, the 18th, when Mr. Benton of
Missouri spoke at length against it. On Tuesday, the 19th, Mr. Holmes of
Maine replied at no great length to Mr. Benton. Other members took some
part in the debate, and then Mr. Hayne of South Carolina commenced a
speech, which occupied the rest of the day. Mr. Hayne was one of the
younger members of the Senate. He came forward in his native State in
1814, when hardly of age, with great _éclat_, filled in rapid succession
responsible offices, and came to the Senate of the United States in
1823, with a reputation already brilliant, and rapidly increasing. He
was active and diligent in business, fluent, graceful, and persuasive as
a debater; of a sanguine and self-relying temper; shrinking from no
antagonist, and disposed to take the part of a champion.
Mr. Webster, up to this time, had not participated in the debate, which
had in fact been rather a pointless affair, and was dragging its slow
length through the Senate, no one knew exactly to what purpose. It had
as yet assumed no character in which it invited or required his
attention. He was much engaged at the time in the Supreme Court of the
United States. The important case of John Jacob Astor and the State of
New York, in which he was of counsel, was to come on for argument on the
20th of January; and on that day the argument of the case was in fact
commenced.[12] Leaving the court-room when the court adjourned on
Tuesday, the 19th, Mr. Webster came into the Senate in season to hear
the greater part of Mr. Hayne's speech; and it was suggested to him by
several friends, and among others by Mr. Bell of New Hampshire, Mr.
Chambers of Maryland, and his colleague, Mr. Silsbee, that an immediate
answer to Mr. Hayne was due from him. The line of discussion pursued by
the Senator from South Carolina was such as to require, if not to
provoke, an immediate answer from the North. Mr. Webster accordingly
rose when Mr. Hayne took his seat, but gave way to a motion for
adjournment from Mr. Benton. These circumstances will sufficiently show
how entirely without premeditation, and with what preoccupation by other
trains of thought, Mr. Webster was led into this great intellectual
conflict.
He appeared in the Senate the next morning, Wednesday, January 20th,
and Mr. Foot's resolution, being called up, was modified, on the
suggestion of Messrs. Sprague of Maine and Woodbury of New Hampshire, by
adding the following clause:--
"Or whether it be expedient to adopt measures to hasten the sales
and extend more rapidly the surveys of the public lands."
Mr. Webster immediately proceeded with the debate. No elaborate
preparation, of course, could have been made by him, as the speech
of Mr. Hayne, to which his reply was mainly directed, was delivered
the day before. He vindicated the government, under its successive
administrations, from the general charge of having managed the public
lands in a spirit of hostility to the Western States. He particularly
defended New England against the accusation of hostility to the West.
A passage in this part of his speech, contrasting Ohio as she was in
1794 with the Ohio of 1830, will compare advantageously with any thing
in these volumes. In speaking of the settlement of the West, Mr. Webster
introduced with just commendation the honored name of Nathan Dane, as
the author of the Ordinance of 1787, for the organization and
government of the territory northwest of the Ohio. He maintained that
every measure of legislation beneficial to the West had been carried
in Congress by the aid of New England votes, and he closed by an
allusion to his own course as uniformly friendly to that part of the
Union. Mr. Benton followed Mr. Webster, and commenced a speech in
reply.
The next day, Thursday, the 21st, the subject again came up, and it was
now evident that the debate had put on a new character. Its real
interest and importance were felt to be commencing. Mr. Chambers
expressed the hope that the Senate would consent to postpone the further
consideration of the resolution till the next Monday, as Mr. Webster,
who had engaged in the discussion and wished to be present when it
should be resumed, had pressing engagements out of the house, and could
not conveniently give his attendance in the Senate before Monday.[13]
Mr. Hayne said "he saw the gentleman from Massachusetts in his seat, and
presumed he could make an arrangement which would enable him to be
present here, during the discussion to-day. He was unwilling that this
subject should be postponed before he had an opportunity of replying to
some of the observations which had fallen from that gentleman yesterday.
He would not deny that some things had fallen from him which rankled[14]
here (touching his breast), from which he would desire at once to
relieve himself. The gentleman had discharged his fire in the presence
of the Senate. He hoped he would now afford him an opportunity of
returning the shot."
The manner in which this was said was not such as to soften the
harshness of the sentiment. It will be difficult, in reverting to Mr.
Webster's speech, to find either in its substance or spirit any adequate
grounds for the feeling manifested by Mr. Hayne. Nor would it probably
be easy in the history of Congress to find another case in which a
similar act of accommodation in the way of postponing a subject has been
refused, at least on such a ground. Mr. Webster, in reply to Mr. Hayne's
remark, that he wished without delay to return his shot, said, "Let the
discussion proceed; I am ready now to receive the gentleman's fire."
Mr. Benton then addressed the Senate for about an hour, in conclusion of
the speech which he had commenced the day before. At the close of Mr.
Benton's argument, Mr. Bell of New Hampshire moved that the further
consideration of the subject should be postponed till Monday, but the
motion was negatived. Mr. Hayne then took the floor, and spoke for about
an hour in reply to Mr. Webster's remarks of the preceding day. Before
he had concluded his argument, the Senate adjourned till Monday. On that
day, January the 25th, he spoke for two hours and a half, and completed
his speech. Mr. Webster immediately rose to reply, but the day was far
advanced, and he yielded to a motion for adjournment.
The second speech of Mr. Hayne, to which Mr. Webster was now called
upon to reply, was still more strongly characterized than the first
with severity, not to say bitterness, towards the Eastern States. The
tone toward Mr. Webster personally was not courteous. It bordered on
the offensive. It was difficult not to find in both of the speeches of
the Senator from South Carolina the indication of a preconceived
purpose to hold up New England, and Mr. Webster as her most
distinguished representative, to public odium. In his second speech, Mr.
Hayne reaffirmed and urged those constitutional opinions which are
usually known as the doctrines of Nullification; that is to say, the
assumed right of a State, when she deems herself oppressed by an
unconstitutional act of Congress, to declare by State ordinance the
act of Congress null and void, and discharge the citizens of the State
from the duty of obedience.
Such being the character of Mr. Hayne's speech, Mr. Webster had three
objects to accomplish in his answer. The first was to repel the
personalities toward himself, which formed one of the most prominent
features of Mr. Hayne's speech. This object was accomplished by a few
retaliatory strokes, in which the severest sarcasm was so mingled with
unaffected good humor and manly expostulation, as to carry captive the
sympathy of the audience. The vindication of the Eastern States
generally, and of Massachusetts in particular, was the second object,
and was pursued in a still higher strain. When it was finished, no one
probably regretted more keenly than the accomplished antagonist the easy
credence which he had lent to the purveyors of forgotten scandal, some
of whom were present, and felt grateful for their obscurity.
The third and far the more important object with Mr. Webster was the
constitutional argument, in which he asserted the character of our
political system as a government established by the people of the United
States, in contradistinction to a compact between the separate States;
and exposed the fallacy of attempting to turn the natural right of
revolution against the government into a right reserved under the
Constitution to overturn the government itself.
Several chapters of the interesting work of Mr. March, already referred
to,[15] are devoted to the subject of this debate; and we have thought
that we could in no way convey to the reader so just and distinct an
impression of the effect of Mr. Webster's speech at the time of its
delivery, as by borrowing largely from his animated pages.
* * * * *
"It was on Tuesday, January the 26th, 1830,--a day to be hereafter for
ever memorable in Senatorial annals,--that the Senate resumed the
consideration of Foot's resolution. There never was before, in the city,
an occasion of so much excitement. To witness this great intellectual
contest, multitudes of strangers had for two or three days previous been
rushing into the city, and the hotels overflowed. As early as 9 o'clock
of this morning, crowds poured into the Capitol, in hot haste; at 12
o'clock, the hour of meeting, the Senate-chamber--its galleries, floor,
and even lobbies--was filled to its utmost capacity. The very stairways
were dark with men, who clung to one another, like bees in a swarm.
"The House of Representatives was early deserted. An adjournment would
have hardly made it emptier. The Speaker, it is true, retained his
chair, but no business of moment was, or could be, attended to. Members
all rushed in to hear Mr. Webster, and no call of the House or other
parliamentary proceedings could compel them back. The floor of the
Senate was so densely crowded, that persons once in could not get out,
nor change their position; in the rear of the Vice-Presidential
chair, the crowd was particularly intense. Dixon H. Lewis, then a
Representative from Alabama, became wedged in here. From his enormous
size, it was impossible for him to move without displacing a vast
portion of the multitude. Unfortunately, too, for him, he was jammed
in directly behind the chair of the Vice-President, where he could
not see, and hardly hear, the speaker. By slow and laborious effort,
pausing occasionally to breathe, he gained one of the windows, which,
constructed of painted glass, flank the chair of the Vice-President on
either side. Here he paused, unable to make more headway. But
determined to see Mr. Webster as he spoke, with his knife he made a
large hole in one of the panes of the glass; which is still visible as
he made it. Many were so placed as not to be able to see the speaker
at all.
"The courtesy of Senators accorded to the fairer sex room on the
floor--the most gallant of them, their own seats. The gay bonnets and
brilliant dresses threw a varied and picturesque beauty over the scene,
softening and embellishing it.
"Seldom, if ever, has speaker in this or any other country had more
powerful incentives to exertion; a subject, the determination of which
involved the most important interests, and even duration, of the
republic; competitors, unequalled in reputation, ability, or position; a
name to make still more glorious, or lose for ever; and an audience,
comprising not only persons of this country most eminent in intellectual
greatness, but representatives of other nations, where the art of
eloquence had flourished for ages. All the soldier seeks in opportunity
was here.
"Mr. Webster perceived, and felt equal to, the destinies of the moment.
The very greatness of the hazard exhilarated him. His spirits rose with
the occasion. He awaited the time of onset with a stern and impatient
joy. He felt like the war-horse of the Scriptures, who 'paweth in the
valley, and rejoiceth in his strength: who goeth on to meet the armed
men,--who saith among the trumpets, Ha, ha! and who smelleth the battle
afar off, the thunder of the captains and the shouting.'
"A confidence in his own resources, springing from no vain estimate of
his power, but the legitimate offspring of previous severe mental
discipline, sustained and excited him. He had gauged his opponents, his
subject, and _himself_.
"He was, too, at this period, in the very prime of manhood. He had
reached middle age,--an era in the life of man when the faculties,
physical or intellectual, may be supposed to attain their fullest
organization and most perfect development. Whatever there was in him of
intellectual energy and vitality, the occasion, his full life, and high
ambition might well bring forth.
"He never rose on an ordinary occasion to address an ordinary audience
more self-possessed. There was no tremulousness in his voice nor manner;
nothing hurried, nothing simulated. The calmness of superior strength
was visible everywhere; in countenance, voice, and bearing. A
deep-seated conviction of the extraordinary character of the emergency,
and of his ability to control it, seemed to possess him wholly. If an
observer, more than ordinarily keen-sighted, detected at times something
like exultation in his eye, he presumed it sprang from the excitement of
the moment, and the anticipation of victory.
"The anxiety to hear the speech was so intense, irrepressible, and
universal, that no sooner had the Vice-President assumed the chair, than
a motion was made, and unanimously carried, to postpone the ordinary
preliminaries of Senatorial action, and to take up immediately the
consideration of the resolution.
"Mr. Webster rose and addressed the Senate. His exordium is known by
heart everywhere: 'Mr. President, when the mariner has been tossed, for
many days, in thick weather, and on an unknown sea, he naturally avails
himself of the first pause in the storm, the earliest glance of the sun,
to take his latitude, and ascertain how far the elements have driven him
from his true course. Let us imitate this prudence, and, before we float
farther on the waves of this debate, refer to the point from which we
departed, that we may at least be able to conjecture where we now are. I
ask for the reading of the resolution before the Senate.'
"There wanted no more to enchain the attention. There was a spontaneous,
though silent, expression of eager approbation, as the orator concluded
these opening remarks. And while the clerk read the resolution, many
attempted the impossibility of getting nearer the speaker. Every head
was inclined closer towards him, every ear turned in the direction of
his voice, and that deep, sudden, mysterious silence followed, which
always attends fulness of emotion. From the sea of upturned faces before
him, the orator beheld his thoughts reflected as from a mirror. The
varying countenance, the suffused eye, the earnest smile, the
ever-attentive look, assured him of his audience's entire sympathy. If
among his hearers there were those who affected at first an indifference
to his glowing thoughts and fervent periods, the difficult mask was soon
laid aside, and profound, undisguised, devoted attention followed. In
the earlier part of his speech, one of his principal opponents seemed
deeply engrossed in the careful perusal of a newspaper he held before
his face; but this, on nearer approach, proved to be _upside down_. In
truth, all, sooner or later, voluntarily, or in spite of themselves,
were wholly carried away by the eloquence of the orator.
* * * * *
"Those who had doubted Mr. Webster's ability to cope with and overcome
his opponents were fully satisfied of their error before he had
proceeded far in his speech. Their fears soon took another direction.
When they heard his sentences of powerful thought, towering in
accumulative grandeur, one above the other, as if the orator strove,
Titan-like, to reach the very heavens themselves, they were giddy with
an apprehension that he would break down in his flight. They dared not
believe that genius, learning, and intellectual endowment however
uncommon, that was simply mortal, could sustain itself long in a career
seemingly so perilous. They feared an Icarian fall.
* * * * *
"What New England heart was there but throbbed with vehement,
tumultuous, irrepressible emotion, as he dwelt upon New England
sufferings, New England struggles, and New England triumphs during the
war of the Revolution? There was scarcely a dry eye in the Senate; all
hearts were overcome; grave judges and men grown old in dignified life
turned aside their heads, to conceal the evidences of their emotion.
"In one corner of the gallery was clustered a group of Massachusetts
men. They had hung from the first moment upon the words of the speaker,
with feelings variously but always warmly excited, deepening in
intensity as he proceeded. At first, while the orator was going through
his exordium, they held their breath and hid their faces, mindful of the
savage attack upon him and New England, and the fearful odds against
him, her champion;--as he went deeper into his speech, they felt easier;
when he turned Hayne's flank on Banquo's ghost, they breathed freer and
deeper. But now, as he alluded to Massachusetts, their feelings were
strained to the highest tension; and when the orator, concluding his
encomium of the land of their birth, turned, intentionally or otherwise,
his burning eye full upon them, _they shed tears like girls_!
"No one who was not present can understand the excitement of the scene.
No one who was, can give an adequate description of it. No word-painting
can convey the deep, intense enthusiasm, the reverential attention, of
that vast assembly, nor limner transfer to canvas their earnest, eager,
awe-struck countenances. Though language were as subtile and flexible as
thought, it still would be impossible to represent the full idea of the
scene. There is something intangible in an emotion, which cannot be
transferred. The nicer shades of feeling elude pursuit. Every
description, therefore, of the occasion, seems to the narrator himself
most tame, spiritless, unjust.
"Much of the instantaneous effect of the speech arose, of course, from
the orator's delivery,--the tones of his voice, his countenance, and
manner. These die mostly with the occasion that calls them forth; the
impression is lost in the attempt at transmission from one mind to
another. They can only be described in general terms. 'Of the
effectiveness of Mr. Webster's manner in many parts,' says Mr. Everett,
'it would be in vain to attempt to give any one not present the faintest
idea. It has been my fortune to hear some of the ablest speeches of the
greatest living orators on both sides of the water, but I must confess I
never heard any thing which so completely realized my conception of what
Demosthenes was when he delivered the Oration for the Crown.'
* * * * *
"The variety of incident during the speech, and the rapid fluctuation of
passions, kept the audience in continual expectation and ceaseless
agitation. There was no chord of the heart the orator did not strike, as
with a master-hand. The speech was a complete drama of comic and
pathetic scenes; one varied excitement; laughter and tears gaining
alternate victory.
"A great portion of the speech is strictly argumentative; an exposition
of constitutional law. But grave as such portion necessarily is,
severely logical, abounding in no fancy or episode, it engrossed
throughout the undivided attention of every intelligent hearer.
Abstractions, under the glowing genius of the orator, acquired a beauty,
a vitality, a power to thrill the blood and enkindle the affections,
awakening into earnest activity many a dormant faculty. His ponderous
syllables had an energy, a vehemence of meaning in them, that
fascinated, while they startled. His thoughts in their statuesque beauty
merely would have gained all critical judgment; but he realized the
antique fable, and warmed the marble into life. There was a sense of
power in his language,--of power withheld and suggestive of still
greater power,--that subdued, as by a spell of mystery, the hearts of
all. For power, whether intellectual or physical, produces in its
earnest development a feeling closely allied to awe. It was never more
felt than on this occasion. It had entire mastery. The sex which is
said to love it best, and abuse it most, seemed as much or more carried
away than the sterner one. Many who had entered the hall with light, gay
thoughts, anticipating at most a pleasurable excitement, soon became
deeply interested in the speaker and his subject; surrendered him their
entire heart; and when the speech was over, and they left the hall, it
was with sadder, perhaps, but surely with far more elevated and
ennobling emotions.
"The exulting rush of feeling with which he went through the peroration
threw a glow over his countenance, like inspiration. Eye, brow, each
feature, every line of the face, seemed touched, as with a celestial
fire.
"The swell and roll of his voice struck upon the ears of the spellbound
audience, in deep and melodious cadence, as waves upon the shore of the
'far-resounding' sea. The Miltonic grandeur of his words was the fit
expression of his thought, and raised his hearers up to his theme.
His voice, exerted to its utmost power, penetrated every recess or
corner of the Senate,--penetrated even the ante-rooms and stairways, as
he pronounced in deepest tones of pathos these words of solemn
significance: 'When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last
time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and
dishonored fragments of a once glorious Union; on States dissevered,
discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched,
it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering
glance rather behold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known
and honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms
and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or
polluted, nor a single star obscured, bearing for its motto, no such
miserable interrogatory as, "What is all this worth?" nor those other
words of delusion and folly, "Liberty first and Union afterwards";
but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing
on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land,
and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear
to every American heart,--LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW AND FOR EVER, ONE
AND INSEPARABLE!'
* * * * *
"The speech was over, but the tones of the orator still lingered upon
the ear, and the audience, unconscious of the close, retained their
positions. The agitated countenance, the heaving breast, the suffused
eye, attested the continued influence of the spell upon them. Hands
that, in the excitement of the moment, had sought each other, still
remained closed in an unconscious grasp. Eye still turned to eye, to
receive and repay mutual sympathy; and everywhere around seemed
forgetfulness of all but the orator's presence and words."--pp.
132-148.
* * * * *
After having spoken about three hours on the 26th of January, Mr.
Webster gave way for an adjournment. He resumed and concluded the speech
on the following day. During most of the time that he was speaking, Mr.
Hayne occupied himself in taking notes, and rose to reply at the
conclusion of Mr. Webster's argument. An adjournment was proposed by one
of Mr. Hayne's friends, but he wisely determined to terminate all that
he intended to say on the subject upon the spot. He accordingly
addressed the Senate for about half an hour upon the constitutional
question which formed the most important portion of Mr. Webster's
speech. These remarks of Mr. Hayne were, in the newspaper report,
expanded into an elaborate argument, which occupies nineteen pages in
the register of Congressional debates. When Mr. Hayne sat down, Mr.
Webster, in turn, rose to make a brief rejoinder. "The gentleman," said
he, "has in vain attempted to reconstruct his shattered argument"; and
this formidable exordium was followed up by a brief restatement of his
own argument, which, for condensation, precision, and force, may be
referred to as a specimen of parliamentary logic never surpassed. The
art of reasoning on moral questions can go no further.
Thus terminated the day's great work. In the evening the Senatorial
champions met at a friend's house, and exchanged those courteous
salutations which mitigate the asperity of political collision, and
prevent the conflicts of party from embittering social life.
The sensation produced by the great debate on those who heard it was but
the earnest of its effect on the country at large. The length of Mr.
Webster's speech did not prevent its being copied into the leading
newspapers throughout the country. It was the universal theme of
conversation. Letters of acknowledgment and congratulation from the most
distinguished individuals, from politicians retired from active life,
from entire strangers, from persons not sympathizing with all Mr.
Webster's views, from distant parts of the Union, were addressed to him
by every mail. Immense editions of the speech in a pamphlet form were
called for. A proposal was made to the friends of Mr. Hayne to unite in
the publication of a joint edition of the two speeches for general
circulation throughout the country, but this offer was declined. Mr.
Webster's friends in Boston published a pamphlet edition of the
speeches of Mr. Hayne and Mr. Webster. It is no exaggeration to say,
that throughout the country Mr. Webster's speech was regarded, not only
as a brilliant and successful personal defence and a triumphant
vindication of New England, but as a complete overthrow of the dangerous
constitutional heresies which had menaced the stability of the Union.
In this light it was looked upon by a large number of the most
distinguished citizens of New York, who took occasion to offer Mr.
Webster the compliment of a public dinner the following winter.
Circumstances delayed the execution of their purpose till some time had
elapsed from the delivery of the speech, but the recollection of it was
vivid, and it was referred to by Chancellor Kent, the president of the
day, as the service especially demanding the grateful recognition of the
country. After alluding to the debate on Foot's resolution and to the
character of Mr. Webster's speech, the venerable Chancellor added:--
"The consequences of that discussion have been extremely beneficial.
It turned the attention of the public to the great doctrines of
national rights and national union. Constitutional law ceased to
remain wrapped up in the breasts, and taught only by the responses,
of the living oracles of the law. Socrates was said to have drawn
down philosophy from the skies, and scattered it among the schools.
It may with equal truth be said that constitutional law, by means of
those senatorial discussions and the master genius that guided them,
was rescued from the archives of our tribunals and the libraries of
our lawyers, and placed under the eye and submitted to the judgment
of the American people. _Their verdict is with us, and from it there
lies no appeal._"[16]
With respect to Mr. Foot's resolution it may be observed, that it
continued before the Senate a long time, a standing subject of
discussion. One half at least of the members of the Senate took part in
the debate, which daily assumed a wider range and wandered farther from
the starting-point. Many speeches were made which, under other
circumstances, would have attracted notice, but the interest of the
controversy expired with the great effort of the 26th and 27th of
January. At length, on the 21st of May, a motion for indefinite
postponement, submitted by Mr. Webster at the close of his first
speech, prevailed, and thus the whole discussion ended.
It may be worthy of remark, that Mr. Webster's speech was taken in
short-hand by Mr. Gales, the veteran editor of the National
Intelligencer, a stenographer of great experience and skill. It was
written out in common hand by a member of his family, and sent to Mr.
Webster for correction. It remained in his hands for that purpose a part
of one day, and then went to the press.
A young and gifted American artist,[17] whose talents had been largely
put in requisition by King Louis Philippe to adorn the walls of
Versailles, conceived a few years ago the happy idea of a grand
historical picture of this debate. On a canvas of the largest size he
has nobly delineated the person of the principal individual in the act
of replying to Mr. Hayne, with those of his colleagues in the Senate.
The passages and galleries of the Senate-Chamber are filled with
attentive listeners of both sexes. Above a hundred accurate studies from
life give authenticity to a work in which posterity will find the
sensible presentment of this great intellectual effort.
FOOTNOTES
[12] This case is known as that of Carver's Lessees against John Jacob
Astor, and is reported in 4 Peters, I.
[13] Mr. Chambers referred to the case in court just mentioned, in
which Mr. Webster was engaged, and in which the argument had
already begun.
[14] Mr. Hayne subsequently disclaimed having used this word.
[15] Reminiscences of Congress.
[16] Chancellor Kent's remarks are given entire in the introduction to
Mr. Webster's Speech at the New York Dinner, Vol. I. p. 194.
[17] Mr. Geo. P. A. Healey.
CHAPTER VII.
General Character of President Jackson's Administrations.--Speedy
Discord among the Parties which had united for his Elevation.--Mr.
Webster's Relations to the Administration.--Veto of the Bank.--Rise
and Progress of Nullification in South Carolina.--The Force Bill,
and the Reliance of General Jackson's Administration on Mr.
Webster's Aid.--His Speech in Defence of the Bill, and in
Opposition to Mr. Calhoun's Resolutions.--Mr. Madison's Letter on
Secession.--The Removal of the Deposits.--Motives for that
Measure.--The Resolution of the Senate disapproving it.--The
President's Protest.--Mr. Webster's Speech on the Subject of the
Protest.--Opinions of Chancellor Kent and Mr. Tazewell.--The
Expunging Resolution.--Mr. Webster's Protest against it.--Mr.
Van Buren's Election.--The Financial Crisis and the Extra Session
of Congress.--The Government Plan of Finance supported by Mr.
Calhoun and opposed by Mr. Webster.--Personalities.--Mr. Webster's
Visit to Europe and distinguished Reception.--The Presidential
Canvass of 1840.--Election of General Harrison.
It would require a volume of ample dimensions to relate the history of
Mr. Webster's Senatorial career from this time till the accession of
General Harrison to the Presidency, in 1841. In this interval the
government was administered for two successive terms by General Jackson,
and for a single term by Mr. Van Buren. It was a period filled with
incidents of great importance in various departments of the government,
often of a startling character at the time, and not less frequently
exerting a permanent influence on the condition of the country. It may
be stated as the general characteristic of the political tendencies of
this period, that there was a decided weakening of respect for
constitutional restraint. Vague ideas of executive discretion prevailed
on the one hand in the interpretation of the Constitution, and of
popular sovereignty on the other, as represented by a President elevated
to office by overwhelming majorities of the people. The expulsion of the
Indian tribes from the Southern States, in violation of the faith of
treaties and in open disregard of the opinion of the Supreme Court of
the United States as to their obligation; the claim of a right on the
part of a State to nullify an act of the general government; the
violation of the charter of the bank, and the Presidential veto of the
act of Congress rechartering it; the deposit of the public money in the
selected State banks with a view to its safe keeping and for the greater
encouragement of trade by the loan of the public funds; the explosion
of this system, and the adoption of one directly opposed to it, which
rejected wholly the aid of the banks and denied the right of the
government to employ the public funds for any but fiscal purposes; the
executive menaces of war against France; the unsuccessful attempt of Mr.
Van Buren's administration to carry on the government upon General
Jackson's system; the panic of 1837, succeeded by the general uprising
of the country and the universal demand for a change of men and
measures,--these are the leading incidents in the chronicle of the
period in question. Most of the events referred to are discussed in the
following volumes. On some of them Mr. Webster put forth all his power.
The questions pertaining to the construction of the Constitution, to the
bank, to the veto power, to the currency, to the constitutionality of
the tariff, to the right of removal from office, and to the finances,
were discussed in almost every conceivable form, and with every variety
of argument and illustration.
It has already been observed, that General Jackson was brought into
power by a somewhat ill-compacted alliance between his original friends
and a portion of the friends of the other candidates of 1824. As far as
Mr. Calhoun and his followers were concerned, the cordiality of the
union was gone before the inauguration of the new President. There was
not only on the list of the cabinet to be appointed no adequate
representative of the Vice-President, but his rival candidate for the
succession (Mr. Van Buren) was placed at the head of the administration.
There is reason to suppose that General Jackson, who, though his policy
tended greatly to impair the strength of the Union, was in feeling a
warm Unionist, witnessed with no dissatisfaction the result of the great
constitutional debate and its influence upon the country.
But the effect of this debate on the friendly relations of Mr.
Webster with the administration was in some degree neutralized by the
incidents of the second session of the Twenty-first Congress. Mr. Van
Buren had retreated before the embarrassments of the position in which
he found himself in the Department of State, and had accepted the
mission to England. The instructions which he had given to Mr.
McLane in 1829, in reference to the adjustment of the question
relative to the colonial trade, were deemed highly objectionable by a
majority of the Senate, as bringing the relations of our domestic
parties to the notice of a foreign government, and founding upon a
change of administration an argument for the concession of what was
deemed and called "a boon" by the British government. In order to
mark the spirit of these instructions with the disapprobation of the
Senate, the nomination of Mr. Van Buren as Minister to England was
negatived by a majority of that body. While the subject was under
discussion, Mr. Clay, Mr. Webster, and Mr. Calhoun took the same view
of this delicate question. It will be found treated in the speech of Mr.
Webster of the 24th of January, 1832, with all the gravity, temper, and
moderation which its importance demanded.
In the Twenty-second Congress (the second of General Jackson's
administration) the bank question became prominent. General Jackson had
in his first message called the attention of Congress to the subject of
the bank. No doubt of its constitutionality was then intimated by him.
In the course of a year or two an attempt was made, on the part of the
executive, to control the appointment of the officers of one of the
Eastern branches. This attempt was resisted by the bank, and from that
time forward a state of warfare, at first partially disguised, but
finally open and flagrant, existed between the government and the
directors of the institution. In the first session of the Twenty-second
Congress (1831-32), a bill was introduced by Mr. Dallas, and passed the
two houses, to renew the charter of the bank. This measure was supported
by Mr. Webster, on the ground of the importance of a national bank to
the fiscal operations of the government, and to the currency, exchange,
and general business of the country. No specific complaints of
mismanagement had then been made, nor were any abuses alleged to exist.
The bank was, almost without exception, popular at that time with the
business interests of the country, and particularly at the South and
West. Its credit in England was solid; its bills and drafts on London
took the place of specie for remittances to India and China. Its
convenience and usefulness were recognized in the report of the
Secretary of the Treasury (Mr. McLane), at the same time that its
constitutionality was questioned and its existence threatened by the
President. So completely, however, was the policy of General Jackson's
administration the impulse of his own feelings and individual
impressions, and so imperfectly had these been disclosed on the present
occasion, that the fate of the bill for rechartering the bank was a
matter of uncertainty on the part both of adherents and opponents. Many
persons on both sides of the two houses were taken by surprise by the
veto. When the same question was to be decided by General Washington, he
took the opinion in writing of every member of the Cabinet.
But events of a different complexion soon occurred, and gave a new
direction to the thoughts of men throughout the country. The opposition
of South Carolina to the protective policy had been pushed to a point of
excitement at which it was beyond the control of party leaders.
Although, as we have seen, that policy had in 1816 been established by
the aid of distinguished statesmen of South Carolina, who saw in the
success of American cotton manufactures a new market for the staple of
the South, in which it would take the place of the cotton of India, the
protective policy at a later period had come to be generally considered
unconstitutional at the South. A change of opinion somewhat similar had
taken place in New England, which had been originally opposed to this
policy, as adverse to the commercial and navigating interests.
Experience gradually showed that such was not the case. The enactment of
the law of 1824 was considered as establishing the general principle of
protection as the policy of the country. It was known to be the policy
of the great central States. The capital of the North was to some extent
forced into new channels. Some branches of manufactures flourished, as
skill was acquired and improvements in machinery made. The coarse cotton
fabrics which had enjoyed the protection of the _minimum_ duty
prospered, manufacturing villages grew up, the price of the fabric fell,
and as competition increased the tariff did little more than protect the
domestic manufacturer from fraudulent invoices and the fluctuation of
foreign markets. Thus all parties were benefited, not excepting the
South, which gained a new customer for her staple. These changes in the
condition of things led Mr. Webster, as we have remarked in a former
chapter, to modify his course on the tariff question.
Unfortunately, no manufactures had been established at the South. The
vast quantities of new and fertile land opened in the west of Georgia,
in Alabama, and Mississippi, injured the value of the old and partly
exhausted lands of the Atlantic States. Labor was drawn off to found
plantations in the new States, and the injurious consequences were
ascribed to the tariff. Considerations of a political nature had
entirely changed the tolerant feeling which, up to a certain period, had
been shown by one class of Southern politicians toward the protective
policy. With the exception of Louisiana, and one or two votes in
Virginia, the whole South was united against the tariff. South Carolina
had suffered most by the inability of her worn lands to sustain the
competition with the lands of the Yazoo and the Red River, and to her
the most active opposition, under the lead of Mr. Calhoun, was confined.
The modern doctrine of nullification was broached by her accomplished
statesmen, and an unsuccessful attempt made to deduce it from the
Virginia resolutions of 1798. Mr. Madison, in a letter addressed to the
writer of these pages,[18] in August, 1830, firmly resisted this
attempt; and, as a theory, the whole doctrine of nullification was
overthrown by Mr. Webster, in his speech of the 26th of January, 1830.
But public sentiment had gone too far in South Carolina to be checked;
party leaders were too deeply committed to retreat; and at the close of
1832 the ordinance of nullification was adopted by a State convention.
This decisive act roused the hero of New Orleans from the vigilant
repose with which he had watched the coming storm. Confidential orders
to hold themselves in readiness for active service were sent in every
direction to the officers of the army and the navy. Prudent and resolute
men were quietly stationed at the proper posts. Arms and munitions in
abundance were held in readiness, and a chain of expresses in advance of
the mail was established from the Capitol to Charleston. These
preparations made, the Presidential proclamation of the 11th of
December, 1832, was issued. It was written by Mr. Edward Livingston,
then Secretary of State, from notes furnished by General Jackson
himself; but there is not an idea of importance in it which may not be
found in Mr. Webster's speech on Foot's resolution.
The proclamation of the President was met by the counter-proclamation of
Governor Hayne; and the State of South Carolina proceeded to pass laws
for carrying the ordinance of nullification into effect, and for putting
the State into a condition to carry on war with the general government.
In this posture of affairs the President of the United States laid the
matter before Congress, in his message of the 16th of January, 1833, and
the bill "further to provide for the collection of duties on imports"
was introduced into the Senate, in pursuance of his recommendations. Mr.
Calhoun was at this time a member of that body, having been chosen to
succeed Governor Hayne, and having of course resigned the office of
Vice-President. Thus called, for the first time, to sustain in person
before the Senate and the country the policy of nullification, which had
been adopted by South Carolina mainly under his influence, and which was
now threatening the Union, it hardly need be said that he exerted all
his ability, and put forth all his resources, in defence of the doctrine
which had brought his State to the verge of revolution. It is but
justice to add, that he met the occasion with equal courage and vigor.
The bill "to make further provision for the collection of the revenue,"
or "Force Bill," as it was called, was reported by Mr. Wilkins from the
Committee on the Judiciary on the 21st of January, and on the following
day Mr. Calhoun moved a series of resolutions, affirming the right of a
State to annul, as far as her citizens are concerned, any act of
Congress which she may deem oppressive and unconstitutional. On the 15th
and 16th of February, he spoke at length in opposition to the bill, and
in development and support of his resolutions. On this occasion the
doctrine of nullification was sustained by him with far greater ability
than it had been by General Hayne, and in a speech which we believe is
regarded as Mr. Calhoun's most powerful effort. In closing his speech,
Mr. Calhoun challenged the opponents of his doctrines to disprove them,
and warned them, in the concluding sentence, that the principles they
might advance would be subjected to the revision of posterity.[19]
Mr. Webster, before Mr. Calhoun had resumed his seat, or he had risen
from his own, accepted the challenge, and commenced his reply. He began
to speak as he was rising, and continued to address the Senate with
great force and effect, for about two hours. The Senate then took a
recess, and after it came together Mr. Webster spoke again, from five
o'clock till eight in the evening. The speech was more purely a
constitutional argument than that of the 26th of January, 1830. It was
mainly devoted to an examination of Mr. Calhoun's resolutions; to a
review of the adoption and ratification of the Constitution of the
United States, by way of elucidating the question whether the system
provided by the Constitution is a government of the people or a compact
between the States; and to a discussion of the constitutionality of the
tariff. It was less various and discursive in its matter than the speech
on Foot's resolution, but more condensed and systematic. Inferior,
perhaps, in interest for a mixed audience, from the absence of personal
allusions, which at all times give the greatest piquancy to debate, a
severe judgment might pronounce it a finer piece of parliamentary logic.
Nor must it be inferred from this description that it was destitute of
present interest. The Senate-chamber was thronged to its utmost
capacity, both before and after the recess, although the streets of
Washington, owing to the state of the weather at the time, were nearly
impassable.
The opinion entertained of this speech by the individual who, of all the
people of America, was the best qualified to estimate its value, may be
seen from the following letter of Mr. Madison, which has never before
been published.
"_Montpellier, March 15th, 1833._
"MY DEAR SIR:--I return my thanks for the copy of your late very
powerful speech in the Senate of the United States. It crushes
'nullification,' and must hasten an abandonment of 'secession.' But
this dodges the blow, by confounding the claim to secede at will
with the right of seceding from intolerable oppression. The former
answers itself, being a violation without cause of a faith solemnly
pledged. The latter is another name only for revolution, about which
there is no theoretic controversy. Its double aspect, nevertheless,
with the countenance received from certain quarters, is giving it a
popular currency here, which may influence the approaching elections
both for Congress and for the State legislature. It has gained some
advantage also by mixing itself with the question, whether the
Constitution of the United States was formed by the people or by the
States, now under a theoretic discussion by animated partisans.
"It is fortunate when disputed theories can be decided by
undisputed facts, and here the undisputed fact is, that the
Constitution was made by the people, but as embodied into the
several States who were parties to it, and therefore made by the
States in their highest authoritative capacity. They might, by the
same authority and by the same process, have converted the
confederacy into a mere league or treaty, or continued it with
enlarged or abridged powers; or have embodied the people of their
respective States into one people, nation, or sovereignty; or, as
they did, by a mixed form, make them one people, nation, or
sovereignty for certain purposes, and not so for others.
"The Constitution of the United States, being established by a
competent authority, by that of the sovereign people of the several
States who were parties to it, it remains only to inquire what the
Constitution is; and here it speaks for itself. It organizes a
government into the usual legislative, executive, and judiciary
departments; invests it with specified powers, leaving others to the
parties to the Constitution. It makes the government like other
governments to operate directly on the people; places at its command
the needful physical means of executing its powers; and finally
proclaims its supremacy, and that of the laws made in pursuance of
it, over the constitutions and laws of the States, the powers of the
government being exercised, as in other elective and responsible
governments, under the control of its constituents, the people and
the legislatures of the States, and subject to the revolutionary
rights of the people, in extreme cases.
"Such is the Constitution of the United States _de jure_ and _de
facto_, and the name, whatever it be, that may be given to it can
make it nothing more or less than what it is.
"Pardon this hasty effusion, which, whether precisely according or
not with your ideas, presents, I am aware, none that will be new to
you.
"With great esteem and cordial salutations,
"JAMES MADISON."
To "MR. WEBSTER."
It may be observed, in reference to the closing remark in the above
important letter, that the view which it presents of the nature of the
government established by the Constitution is precisely that taken by
Mr. Webster in the various speeches in which the subject is discussed by
him.
The President of the United States felt the importance of Mr. Webster's
aid in the great constitutional struggle of the session. There were
men of great ability enlisted in support of his administration,
Messrs Forsyth, Grundy, Dallas, Rives, and others, but no one competent
to assume the post of antagonist to the great Southern leader. The
general political position of Mr. Webster made it in no degree his duty
to sustain the administration in any party measure, but the reverse.
But his whole course as a public man, and all his principles,
forbade him to act from party motives in a great crisis of the
country's fortunes. The administration was now engaged in a fearful
struggle for the preservation of the Union, and the integrity of the
Constitution. The doctrines of the proclamation were the doctrines of
his speech on Foot's resolution almost to the words. He would have been
unjust to his most cherished principles and his views of public duty
had he not come to the rescue, not of the administration, but of the
country, in this hour of her peril. His aid was personally solicited
in the great debate on the "Force Bill" by a member of the Cabinet, but
it was not granted till the bill had undergone important amendments
suggested by him, when it was given cordially, without stint and
without condition.[20]
In the recess of Congress in the year 1833, Mr. Webster made a short
journey to the Middle States and the West. He was everywhere the object
of the most distinguished and respectful attentions. Public receptions
took place at Buffalo and Pittsburg, where, under the auspices of
committees of the highest respectability, he addressed immense
assemblages convened without distinction of party. Invitations to
similar meetings reached him from many quarters, which he was obliged by
want of leisure to decline.
The friendly relations into which Mr. Webster had been drawn with the
President, and the enthusiastic welcome given to the President on his
tour to the East, in the summer of 1833, awakened jealousy in certain
quarters. It was believed at the time, by well-informed persons, that
among the motives which actuated some persons in General Jackson's
confidence, in fanning his hostility to the Bank of the United States,
was that of bringing forward a question of great interest both to the
public and the President, on which he would be sure to encounter Mr.
Webster's opposition.
Such a subject was the removal of the deposits of the public moneys from
the Bank of the United States, a measure productive of more immediate
distress to the community and a larger train of evil consequences than
perhaps any similar measure in our political history. It was finally
determined upon while the President was on his Northern tour, in the
summer of 1833, receiving in every part of New England those warm
demonstrations of respect which his patriotic course in the great
nullification struggle had inspired. It is proper to state, that up to
this period, in the judgment of more than one committee of Congress
appointed to investigate its affairs, in the opinion of both houses of
Congress, who in 1832 had passed a bill to renew the charter, and of the
House of Representatives, which had resolved that the deposits were safe
in its custody, the affairs of the bank had been conducted with
prudence, integrity, and remarkable skill. It was not the least evil
consequence of the warfare waged upon the bank, that it was finally
drawn into a position (though not till its Congressional charter
expired, and it accepted very unwisely a charter as a State institution)
in which, in its desperate struggle to sustain itself, it finally
forfeited the confidence of its friends and the public, and made a
deplorable and shameful shipwreck at once of its interests and honor,
involving hundreds, at home and abroad, in its own deserved ruin.
The second administration of General Jackson, which commenced in March,
1833, was principally employed in carrying on this war against the bank,
and in the effort to build up the league of the associated banks into an
efficient fiscal agent of the government. The dangerous crisis of
affairs in South Carolina had, for the time, passed. The passage of the
"Force Bill" had vindicated the authority of the Constitution as the
supreme law of the land, and had armed the President with the needed
powers to maintain it. On the other hand, the Compromise Bill of Mr.
Clay, providing for the gradual reduction of all duties to one uniform
rate of twenty per cent., was accepted by Mr. Calhoun and his friends as
a practical concession, and furnished them the opportunity of making
what they deemed a not discreditable retreat from the attitude of
military resistance in which they had placed the State. Regarding this
bill in the light of a concession to unconstitutional menace, as tending
to the eventual prostration of all the interests which had grown up
under the system so long pursued by the government, Mr. Webster felt
himself compelled to withhold from it his support. He rejoiced, however,
in the concurrence of events which had averted the dread appeal to arms
that seemed at one time unavoidable.
It would occupy an unreasonable space to dwell upon every public measure
before Congress at this session; but there is one which cannot with
propriety be passed over, as it drew forth from Mr. Webster an argument
not inferior to his speech on the "Force Bill." A resolution, originally
moved by Mr. Clay, expressing disapprobation of the removal of the
deposits from the bank, was, after material amendments, adopted by the
Senate. This resolution led to a formal protest from the President,
communicated to the Senate on the 15th of April, 1834. Looking upon the
resolution referred to as one of expediency, it is probable that Mr.
Webster did not warmly favor, though, with Mr. Calhoun, he concurred in,
its passage. The protest of the President, however, placed the subject
on new ground. Mr. Webster considered it as an encroachment on the
constitutional rights of the Senate, and as a denial to that body of the
freedom of action which the executive claimed so earnestly for itself.
He accordingly addressed the Senate on the 7th of May, in a speech of
the highest ability, in which the doctrines of the protest were
subjected to the severest scrutiny, and the constitutional rights and
duties of the Senate asserted with a force and spirit worthy of the
important position occupied by that body in the frame of the government.
This speech will be ever memorable for that sublime passage on the
extent of the power of England, which will be quoted with admiration
wherever our language is spoken and while England retains her place in
the family of nations.
This speech was received throughout the country with the highest favor;
by the most distinguished jurists and statesmen as well as by the mass
of the people. Chancellor Kent's language of praise passes the limits of
moderation. "You never," said he, "equalled this effort. It surpasses
every thing in logic, in simplicity and beauty and energy of diction, in
clearness, in rebuke, in sarcasm, in patriotic and glowing feeling, in
just and profound constitutional views, in critical severity, and
matchless strength. It is worth millions to our liberties." Not less
decided was the approbation of a gentleman of great sagacity and
experience as a statesman, Governor Tazewell of Virginia. In writing to
Mr. Tyler he uses this language: "Tell Webster from me that I have read
his speech in the National Intelligencer with more pleasure than any I
have lately seen. If the approbation of one who has not been used to
coincide with him in opinion can be grateful to him, he has mine _in
extenso_. I agree with him perfectly, and thank him cordially for his
many excellent illustrations of what I always thought. If it is
published in a pamphlet form, beg him to send me one. I will have it
bound in good Russia leather, and leave it as a special legacy to my
children."[21]
At the same session of Congress, Mr. Webster spoke frequently on the
presentation of memorials, which were poured in upon him from every part
of the country, in reference to the existing distress. These speeches
were of necessity made, in almost every case, with little or no
preparation, but many of them contain expositions of the operation of
the financial experiment instituted by General Jackson, which will
retain a permanent value in our political history. Some of them are
marked by bursts of the highest eloquence. The entire subject of the
currency was also treated with great ability by Mr. Webster, in a report
made at this session of Congress from the committee of the Senate on
finance, of which he was chairman. Few documents more skilfully digested
or powerfully reasoned have proceeded from his pen.
The same topics substantially occupied the attention of the Senate at
the Twenty-fourth as at the Twenty-third Congress. The principal
subjects discussed pertained to the currency. The specie circular and
the distribution of the surplus revenue were among the prominent
measures. A motion made in the Senate to expunge from its records
the resolution of March, 1834, by which the Senate expressed its
disapprobation of the removal of the deposits, drew forth from Mr.
Webster, on behalf of himself and his colleague, a protest against
that measure, of singular earnestness and power. Committed to writing,
and read with unusual solemnity, it produced upon the Senate an effect
which is still remembered and spoken of. Every word in it is weighed
as in a balance.
The administration of General Jackson was drawing to a close; Mr. Van
Buren had been chosen to succeed him in November, 1836. In the month of
February following, upon an invitation from a large committee of
merchants, professional men, and citizens generally of New York, given
some months previous, Mr. Webster attended one of those great public
meetings which he has been so often called to address. His speech on
this occasion, delivered in Niblo's Saloon on the 15th of March, 1837,
is one of the most important in this collection. It embraced a
comprehensive review of the entire course of General Jackson's policy,
and closed with a prediction of the impending catastrophe. After the
adjournment of Congress, Mr. Webster made a hasty tour to the West, in
the course of which he addressed large public meetings at Wheeling in
Virginia, at Madison in Indiana, and at other places. The coincidence of
passing events with all his anticipations of the certain effects of the
administration policy gave peculiar force to these addresses. It is to
be regretted that these speeches appear from inadequate reports; of some
of the speeches made by him on this tour, no notes were taken.
Such was the financial embarrassment induced by the explosion of the
system of the late administration, that President Van Buren's first
official act was a proclamation for an extra session of Congress, to be
held in September, 1837. At this session the new government plan of
finance, usually called "the Sub-treasury system," was brought forward.
It was the opinion of Mr. Webster, that the rigid enforcement by the
government of a system of specie payments in all its public receipts and
expenditures was an actual impossibility, in the present state of things
in this country and the other commercial countries of the civilized
world. The attempt to reject altogether the aid of convertible paper, of
bills of exchange, of drafts, and other substitutes for the use and
transportation of the precious metals, must fail in practice in a
commercial country, where the great mass of the business affairs of the
community are transacted with their aid. If the attempt could be forced
through, it would be like an attempt on the part of the government to
make use of the ancient modes of travel and conveyance, while every
citizen in his private affairs enjoyed the benefit of steam navigation
and railways. Mr. Webster accordingly opposed the sub-treasury project
from its inception; and it failed to become a law at the extra session
of Congress in 1837.
Somewhat to the surprise of the country generally, it received the
support of Mr. Calhoun. In common with most of his friends, he had
sustained the Bank of the United States, and denounced the financial
policy of General Jackson at every stage. But at the extra session of
Congress he expressed opinions favorable to the sub-treasury, and
followed them up in a remarkable letter to his constituents, published
after the adjournment. At the winter session of 1837-38 he defended the
government plan in an elaborate speech. This speech drew from Mr.
Webster a very able reply. He had, earlier in the session, delivered his
sentiments in opposition to the government measure, and Mr. Calhoun, in
his speech of the 15th of February, 1838, had animadverted upon them,
and represented the sub-treasury system as little more than an attempt
to carry out the joint resolution of the 30th of April, 1816, which, as
we have seen above, was introduced by Mr. Webster, and was the immediate
means of restoring specie payments after the war.
This reference, as well as the whole tenor of Mr. Calhoun's remarks,
called upon Mr. Webster for a rejoinder, which was made by him on the
12th of March. It is the most elaborate and effective of Mr. Webster's
speeches on the subject of the currency.[22] The constitutional right of
the general government to employ a convertible paper in its fiscal
transactions, and to make use of banks in the custody and transmission
of its funds, is argued in this speech with much ability, from the
necessity of the case, from the contemporaneous expositions of the
Constitution, from the practice of the government under every
administration, from the expressed views and opinions of every President
of the United States, including General Jackson, and from the
often-declared opinions of all the leading statesmen of the country, not
excepting Mr. Calhoun himself, whose course in this respect was reviewed
by Mr. Webster somewhat at length, and in such a way as unavoidably to
suggest the idea of inconsistency, although no such charge was made.
To some portions of this speech Mr. Calhoun replied a few weeks
afterwards, and sought to ward off the comments upon his own course in
reference to this class of questions, by some severe strictures on that
of Mr. Webster. This drew from him a prompt and spirited rejoinder. The
following passage may be extracted as a specimen:--
"But, Sir, before attempting that, he [Mr. Calhoun] has something
else to say. He had prepared, it seems, to draw comparisons himself.
He had intended to say something, if time had allowed, upon our
respective opinions and conduct in regard to the war. If time had
allowed! Sir, time does allow, time must allow. A general remark of
that kind ought not to be, cannot be, left to produce its effect,
when that effect is obviously intended to be unfavorable. Why did
the gentleman allude to my votes or my opinions respecting the war
at all, unless he had something to say? Does he wish to leave an
undefined impression that something was done, or something said, by
me, not now capable of defence or justification? something not
reconcilable with true patriotism? He means that, or nothing. And
now, Sir, let him bring the matter forth; let him take the
responsibility of the accusation; let him state his facts. I am here
to answer; I am here, this day, to answer. Now is the time, and now
the hour. I think we read, Sir, that one of the good spirits would
not bring against the Arch-enemy of mankind a railing accusation;
and what is railing but general reproach, an imputation without
fact, time, or circumstance? Sir, I call for particulars. The
gentleman knows my whole conduct well; indeed, the journals show it
all, from the moment I came into Congress till the peace. If I have
done, then, Sir, any thing unpatriotic, any thing which, as far as
love to country goes, will not bear comparison with his or any man's
conduct, let it now be stated. Give me the fact, the time, the
manner. He speaks of the war; that which we call the late war,
though it is now twenty-five years since it terminated. He would
leave an impression that I opposed it. How? I was not in Congress
when war was declared, nor in public life anywhere. I was pursuing
my profession, keeping company with judges and jurors, and
plaintiffs and defendants. If I had been in Congress, and had
enjoyed the benefit of hearing the honorable gentleman's speeches,
for aught I can say, I might have concurred with him. But I was not
in public life. I never had been for a single hour; and was in no
situation, therefore, to oppose or to support the declaration of
war. I am speaking to the fact, Sir; and if the gentleman has any
fact, let us know it.
"Well, Sir, I came into Congress during the war. I found it waged,
and raging. And what did I do here to oppose it? Look to the
journals. Let the honorable gentleman tax his memory. Bring up any
thing, if there be any thing to bring up, not showing error of
opinion, but showing want of loyalty or fidelity to the country. I
did not agree to all that was proposed, nor did the honorable
member. I did not approve of every measure, nor did he. The war had
been preceded by the restrictive system and the embargo. As a
private individual, I certainly did not think well of these
measures. It appeared to me that the embargo annoyed ourselves as
much as our enemies, while it destroyed the business and cramped the
spirits of the people. In this opinion I may have been right or
wrong, but the gentleman was himself of the same opinion. He told us
the other day, as a proof of his independence of party on great
questions, that he differed with his friends on the subject of the
embargo. He was decidedly and unalterably opposed to it. It
furnishes in his judgment, therefore, no imputation either on my
patriotism, or on the soundness of my political opinions, that I was
opposed to it also. I mean opposed in opinion; for I was not in
Congress, and had nothing to do with the act creating the embargo.
And as to opposition to measures for carrying on the war, after I
came into Congress, I again say, let the gentleman specify; let him
lay his finger on any thing calling for an answer, and he shall have
an answer.
"Mr. President, you were yourself in the House during a considerable
part of this time. The honorable gentleman may make a witness of
you. He may make a witness of any body else. He may be his own
witness. Give us but some fact, some charge, something capable in
itself either of being proved or disproved. Prove any thing, state
any thing, not consistent with honorable and patriotic conduct, and
I am ready to answer it. Sir, I am glad this subject has been
alluded to in a manner which justifies me in taking public notice of
it; because I am well aware that, for ten years past, infinite pains
has been taken to find something, in the range of these topics,
which might create prejudice against me in the country. The journals
have all been pored over, and the reports ransacked, and scraps of
paragraphs and half-sentences have been collected, fraudulently put
together, and then made to flare out as if there had been some
discovery. But all this failed. The next resort was to supposed
correspondence. My letters were sought for, to learn if, in the
confidence of private friendship, I had ever said any thing which an
enemy could make use of. With this view, the vicinity of my former
residence has been searched, as with a lighted candle. New Hampshire
has been explored from the mouth of the Merrimack to the White
Hills. In one instance, a gentleman had left the State, gone five
hundred miles off, and died. His papers were examined; a letter was
found, and, I have understood, it was brought to Washington; a
conclave was held to consider it, and the result was, that, if there
was nothing else against Mr. Webster, the matter had better be let
alone. Sir, I hope to make every body of that opinion who brings
against me a charge of want of patriotism. Errors of opinion can be
found, doubtless, on many subjects; but as conduct flows from the
feelings which animate the heart, I know that no act of my life has
had its origin in the want of ardent love of country."
This is the only occasion during the long political lives of these
distinguished statesmen, begun nearly at the same time, and continued
through a Congressional career which brought them of necessity much in
contact with each other, in which there was any approach to personality
in their keen encounters. In fact, of all the highly eminent public men
of the day, they are the individuals who have made the least use of the
favorite weapon of ordinary politicians, personality toward opponents.
On the decease of Mr. Calhoun at Washington, in the spring of 1850,
their uninterrupted friendly relations were alluded to by Mr. Webster in
cordial and affecting terms. He regarded Mr. Calhoun as decidedly the
ablest of the public men to whom he had been opposed in the course of
his political life.
These kindly feelings on Mr. Webster's part were fully reciprocated by
Mr. Calhoun. He is known to have declared on his death-bed, that, of all
the public men of the day, there was no one whose political course had
been more strongly marked by a strict regard to truth and honor than Mr.
Webster's.
In the spring of 1839, Mr. Webster crossed the Atlantic for the first
time in his life, making a hasty tour through England, Scotland, and
France. His attention was particularly drawn to the agriculture of
England and Scotland; to the great subjects of currency and exchange; to
the condition of the laboring classes; and to the practical effect on
the politics of Europe of the system of the Continental alliance. No
traveller from this country has probably ever been received with equal
attention in the highest quarters in England. Courtesies usually paid
only to ambassadors and foreign ministers were extended to him. His
table was covered with invitations to the seats of the nobility and
gentry; and his company was eagerly sought at the public entertainments
which took place while he was in the country. Among the distinguished
individuals with whom he contracted intimate relations of friendship,
the late Lord Ashburton may be particularly mentioned. A mutual regard
of more than usual warmth arose between them. This circumstance was well
understood in the higher circles of English society, and when, two years
later, a change of administration in both countries brought the parties
to which they were respectively attached into power, the friendly
relations well known to exist between them were no doubt among the
motives which led to the appointment of Lord Ashburton as special
minister to the United States.
Toward that great political change which was consummated in 1840, by
which General Harrison was raised to the Presidency, no individual
probably in the country had contributed more largely than Mr. Webster;
and this by powerful appeals to the reason of the people. His speeches
had been for years a public armory, from which weapons both of attack
and defence were furnished to his political friends throughout the
Union. The financial policy of the two preceding administrations was the
chief cause of the general discontent which prevailed; and it is doing
no injustice to the other eminent leaders of opposition in the several
States to say, that by none of them had the vices of this system from
the first been so laboriously and effectively exposed as by Mr. Webster.
During the canvass of 1840, the most strenuous ever witnessed in the
United States, he gave himself up for months to what may literally be
called the arduous labor of the field. These volumes exhibit the proof,
that not only in Massachusetts, but in distant places, from Albany to
Richmond, his voice of encouragement and exhortation was heard.
The event corresponded to the effort, and General Harrison was
triumphantly elected.
FOOTNOTES
[18] North American Review, Vol. XXXI. p. 537.
[19] This passage does not appear in the report preserved in the volume
containing his Select Speeches.
[20] It is not wholly unworthy of remark in this place, as illustrating
the dependence on Mr. Webster's aid which was felt at the White
House, that, on the day of his reply to Mr. Calhoun, the
President's carriage was sent to Mr. Webster's lodgings, as was
supposed with a message borne by the President's private
secretary. Happening to be still at the door when Mr. Webster
was about to go to the Capitol, it conveyed him to the
Senate-chamber.
[21] March's Reminiscences of Congress, pp. 291, 292.
[22] Not long after the publication of this speech, the present Lord
Overstone, then Mr. S. Jones Lloyd, one of the highest
authorities upon financial subjects in England, was examined
upon the subject of banks and currency before a committee of the
House of Commons. He produced a copy of the speech of Mr.
Webster before the committee, and pronounced it one of the
ablest and most satisfactory discussions of these subjects which
he had seen. In writing afterwards to Mr. Webster, he spoke of
him as a master who had instructed him on these subjects.
CHAPTER VIII.[23]
Critical State of Foreign Affairs on the Accession of General
Harrison.--Mr. Webster appointed to the State Department.--Death
of General Harrison.--Embarrassed Relations with England.--Formation
of Sir Robert Peel's Ministry, and Appointment of Lord Ashburton
as Special Minister to the United States.--Course pursued by Mr.
Webster in the Negotiations.--The Northeastern Boundary.--Peculiar
Difficulties in its Settlement happily overcome.--Other Subjects
of Negotiation.--Extradition of Fugitives from Justice.--Suppression
of the Slave-Trade on the Coast of Africa.--History of that
Question.--Affair of the Caroline.--Impressment.--Other Subjects
connected with the Foreign Relations of the Government.--Intercourse
with China.--Independence of the Sandwich Islands.--Correspondence
with Mexico.--Sound Duties and the Zoll-Verein.--Importance of
Mr. Webster's Services as Secretary of State.
The condition of affairs in the United States, on the accession of
President Harrison to office, in the spring of 1841, was difficult and
critical, especially as far as the foreign relations of the country were
concerned. Ancient and modern controversies existed with England, which
seemed to defy adjustment. The great question of the northeastern
boundary had been the subject of negotiation almost ever since the peace
of 1783. Every effort to settle it had but increased the difficulties
with which it was beset, by exhausting the expedients of diplomacy. The
Oregon question was rapidly assuming a formidable aspect, as emigrants
began to move into the country in dispute. Not less serious was the
state of affairs on the southwestern frontier, where, although a
collision with Mexico might not in itself be an event to be viewed with
great anxiety, it was probable, as things then stood, that it would have
brought a war with Great Britain in its train.
To the uneasiness necessarily growing out of these boundary questions,
no little bitterness was added by more recent occurrences. The
interruption of our vessels on the coast of Africa was a frequently
recurring source of irritation. Great cause of complaint was sometimes
given by boarding officers, acting on frivolous pretences or in a
vexatious manner. At other times the public feeling in the United
States was excited by the exaggerations and misstatements of unworthy
American citizens, who abused the flag of the country to cover a
detestable traffic, which is made a capital felony by its laws. The
affair of the "Caroline," followed by the arrest of McLeod, created a
degree of discontent on both sides, which discussion had done nothing to
remove, but much to exasperate. A crisis had arisen, which the Minister
of the United States in London[24] deemed so serious, as to make it his
duty to communicate with the commander of the American squadron in the
Mediterranean.[25]
Such was the state of things when General Harrison acceded to the
Presidency, after perhaps the most strenuously contested election ever
known, and by a larger popular vote than had ever before been given in
the United States. As soon as the result was known, the President elect
addressed a letter to Mr. Webster, offering him any place he might
choose in his Cabinet, and asking his advice as to the other members of
which it should be composed. The wants and wishes of the country in
reference to currency and finance having brought about the political
revolution which placed General Harrison in the chair, he was rather
desirous that the Department of the Treasury should be assumed by Mr.
Webster, who had studied those subjects profoundly, and whose opinions
were in full concurrence with his own. Averse to the daily drudgery of
the Treasury, Mr. Webster gave his preference to the Department of
State, without concealing from himself that it might be the post of
greater care and responsibility. In this anticipation he was not
disappointed. Although the whole of the danger did not at once appear,
it was evident from the outset that the moment was extremely critical.
Still, however, the circumstances under which General Harrison was
elected were such as to give to his administration a moral power and a
freedom of action, as to pre-existing controversies, favorable to their
settlement on honorable terms.
But the death of the new President, when just entering upon the
discharge of his duties, changed the state of affairs in this
respect. The great national party which had called him to the helm
was struck with astonishment. No rallying-point presented itself. A
position of things existed, not overlooked, indeed, by the sagacious men
who framed the Constitution, but which, from its very nature, can
never enter practically into the calculations of the enthusiastic
multitudes by which, in times of difficulty and excitement, a favorite
candidate is borne to the chair. How much of the control which it
would otherwise have possessed over public opinion could be retained
by an administration thus unexpectedly deprived of its head, was a
question which time alone could settle. Happily, as far as our
foreign relations were concerned, a character had been assumed by the
administration, from the very formation of General Harrison's
Cabinet, which was steadily maintained, till the adjustment of the
most difficult points in controversy was effected by the treaty of
Washington. President Harrison, as is well known, lived but one
month after his inauguration, but all the members of his Cabinet
remained in office under Mr. Tyler, who succeeded to the Presidency.
With him, of course, rested the general authority of regulating and
directing the negotiations with foreign powers, in which the
government might be engaged. But the active management of these
negotiations was in the hands of the Secretary of State, and it is
believed that no difference of views in regard to important matters
arose between him and Mr. Tyler. For the result of the principal
negotiation, Mr. Tyler manifested great anxiety; and Mr. Webster has
not failed, in public or private, to bear witness to the intelligent and
earnest attention which was bestowed by him on the proceedings,
through all their stages, and to express his sense of the confidence
reposed in himself by the head of the administration, from the
beginning to the end of the transactions.
If the position of things was difficult here, it was not less so on the
other side of the Atlantic; indeed, many of the causes of embarrassment
were common to the two countries. There, as here, the correspondence,
whether conducted at Washington or London, had of late years done
nothing toward an amicable settlement of the great questions at issue.
It had degenerated into an exercise of diplomatic logic, with the
effect, in England as well as in America, of strengthening each party in
the belief of its own rights, and of working up the public mind to a
reluctant feeling that the time was at hand when those rights must be
maintained by force. That the British and American governments, during a
considerable part of the administrations of General Jackson and Mr. Van
Buren, should, with the fate of the reference to the King of the
Netherlands before their eyes, have exerted themselves with melancholy
ingenuity in arranging the impossible details of another convention of
exploration and arbitration, shows of itself that neither party had any
real hope of actually settling the controversy, but that both were
willing to unite in a decent pretext for procrastination.
The report of Mr. Featherstonhaugh, erroneously believed, in England, to
rest upon the results of actual exploration, had been sanctioned by the
ministry, and seemed to extinguish the last hope that England would
agree to any terms of settlement which the United States would deem
reasonable. The danger of collision on the frontier became daily more
imminent, and troops to the amount of seventeen regiments had been
poured into the British Provinces. The arrest of McLeod, as we have
already observed, had brought matters to a point at which the public
sensibility of England would not have allowed a minister to blink the
question. Lord Palmerston is known to have written to Mr. Fox, that the
arrest of McLeod, under the authority of the State of New York, was
universally regarded in England as a direct affront to the British
government, and that such was the excitement caused by it, that, if
McLeod should be condemned and executed, it would not be in the power
either of ministers or opposition, or of the leading men of both
parties, to prevent immediate war.
While this was the state of affairs with reference to the immediate
relations of the two countries, Lord Palmerston was urging France into a
coöperation with the four other leading powers of Europe in the adoption
of a policy, by the negotiation of the quintuple treaty, which would
have left the United States in a position of dangerous insulation on the
subject of the great maritime question of the day.
At this juncture, a change of administration occurred in England,
subsequent but by a few months to that which had taken place in the
government of the United States. Lord Melbourne's government gave way to
that of Sir Robert Peel in the summer of 1841; it remained to be seen
with what influence on the relations of the two countries. Some
circumstances occurred to put at risk the tendency toward an
accommodation, which might naturally be hoped for from a change of
administration nearly simultaneous on both sides of the water. A note of
a very uncompromising character, on the subject of the search of
American vessels on the coast of Africa, had been addressed to Mr.
Stevenson by Lord Palmerston on the 27th of August, 1841, a day only
before the expiration of Lord Melbourne's ministry. To this note Mr.
Stevenson replied in the same strain. The answer of Lord Aberdeen, who
had succeeded Lord Palmerston as Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs,
bears date the 10th of October, 1841, and an elaborate rejoinder was
returned by Mr. Stevenson on the very day of his departure from London.
Lord Aberdeen's reply to this note was of necessity addressed to Mr.
Everett, who had succeeded Mr. Stevenson. It was dated on the 20th of
December, the day on which the quintuple treaty was signed at London by
the representatives of the five powers, and it contained an announcement
of that fact.
Happily, however, affairs were already taking a turn auspicious of
better results. From his first entrance on office as Secretary of State,
Mr. Webster, long familiar with the perplexed history of the negotiation
relative to the boundary, had perceived the necessity of taking a "new
departure." The negotiation had broken down under its own weight. It was
like one of those lawsuits which, to the opprobrium of tribunals,
descend from age to age; a disease of the body politic not merely
chronic, but hereditary. Early in the summer of 1841, Mr. Webster had
intimated to Mr. Fox, the British Minister at Washington, that the
American government was prepared to consider, and, if practicable,
adopt, a conventional line, as the only mode of cutting the Gordian knot
of the controversy. This overture was, of course, conveyed to London.
Though not leading to any result on the part of the ministry just going
out of office, it was embraced by their successors in the same wise and
conciliatory spirit in which it had been made. On the 26th of December,
1841, a note was addressed by Lord Aberdeen to Mr. Everett, inviting him
to an interview on the following day, when he communicated the purpose
of the British government to send a special mission to the United
States, Lord Ashburton being the person selected as minister, and
furnished with full powers to settle every question in controversy.
This step on the part of the British government was as bold as it was
wise. It met the difficulty in the face. It justly assumed the existence
of a corresponding spirit of conciliation on the part of the United
States, and of a desire to bring matters to a practical result. It was
bold, because it was the last expedient for an amicable adjustment, and
because its failure must necessarily lead to very serious and immediate
consequences.
In his choice of a minister, Lord Aberdeen was not less fortunate than
he had been wise in proposing the measure. Lord Ashburton was above the
reach of the motives which influence politicians of an ordinary stamp,
and unencumbered by the habits of routine which belong to men regularly
trained in a career. He possessed a weight of character at home which
made him independent of the vulgar resorts of popularity. He was
animated by a kindly feeling, and bound by kindly associations to this
country. There was certainly no public man in England who united in an
equal degree the confidence of his own government and country with those
claims to the good-will of the opposite party, which were scarcely less
essential to success. The relations of personal friendship contracted by
Mr. Webster with Lord Ashburton in 1839 have already been alluded to, as
influencing the selection. They decided Lord Ashburton in accepting the
appointment. The writer was informed by Lord Ashburton himself, that he
should have despaired of bringing matters to a settlement advantageous
to both countries, but for his reliance on the upright and honorable
character of the American Secretary.
With the appointment of Lord Ashburton, the discussion of the main
questions in controversy between the two countries, as far as it had
been carried on in London, was transferred to Washington. But as an
earnest of the conciliatory spirit which bore sway in the British
counsels, Lord Aberdeen had announced to Mr. Everett, in the interval
which elapsed between Lord Ashburton's appointment and his arrival at
his place of destination, that the Queen's government admitted the wrong
done by the detention of the "Tigris" and "Seamew" in the African
waters, and was prepared to indemnify their owners for the losses
sustained.
Notwithstanding the favorable circumstances under which the mission of
Lord Ashburton was instituted, the great difficulties to be overcome
soon disclosed themselves. The points in dispute in reference to the
boundary had for years been the subject of discussion, more or less,
throughout the country, but especially in Massachusetts and Maine (the
States having an immediate territorial interest in its decision), and,
above all, in the last-named State. Parties differing on all other great
questions emulated each other in the zeal with which they asserted the
American side of this dispute. So strong and unanimous was the feeling,
that, when the award of the King of the Netherlands arrived, the firm
purpose of General Jackson to accept it was subdued. The writer of these
pages was informed by the late Mr. Forsyth, while Secretary of State,
that, when the award reached this country, General Jackson regarded it
as definitive, and was disposed, without consulting the Senate, to issue
his proclamation announcing it as such; and that he was driven from this
course by the representations of his friends in Maine, that it would
change the politics of the State. He was accustomed to add, in reference
to the inconveniences caused by the rejection of the award, and the
still more serious evils to be anticipated, that "it was somewhat
singular that the only occasion of importance in his life in which he
had allowed himself to be overruled by his friends, was one of all
others in which he ought to have adhered to his own opinions."
From the diplomatic papers contained in the sixth volume of the present
edition of Mr. Webster's works it appears that the first step taken by
Mr. Webster, after receiving the directions of the President in
reference to the negotiation, was to invite the coöperation of
Massachusetts and Maine, the territory in dispute being the property
of the two States, and under the jurisdiction of the latter. The extent
of the treaty-making power of the United States, in a matter of such
delicacy as the cession of territory claimed by a State to be within
its limits, belongs to the more difficult class of constitutional
doctrines. We have just seen both the theory and practice of General
Jackson on this point. The administration of Mr. Tyler took for
granted that the full consent of Massachusetts and Maine was necessary
to any adjustment of this great dispute on the principle of mutual
cession and equivalents, or any other principle than that of the
ascertainment of the true, original line of boundary by agreement,
mutual commission, or arbitration. Communications were accordingly
addressed to the governors of the two States. Massachusetts had
anticipated the necessity of the measure, and made provision for the
appointment of commissioners. The legislature of Maine was promptly
convened for the same purpose by the late Governor Fairfield. Four
parties were thus in presence at Washington for the management of the
negotiation: the United States and Great Britain, Massachusetts and
Maine. Recollecting that the question to be settled was one which
had defied all the arts of diplomacy for half a century, it seemed to
a distant, and especially a European observer, as if the last
experiment, exceeding every former step in its necessary complication,
was destined to a failure proportionably signal and ignominious. The
course pursued by the American Secretary, in making the result of
the negotiation relative to the boundary contingent upon the approval
of the State commissioners, was regarded in Europe as decidedly
ominous of its failure.
It undoubtedly required a high degree of political courage thus to put
the absolute control of the subject, to a certain extent, out of the
hands of the national government; but it was a courage fully warranted
by the event. It is now evident that this mode of procedure was the only
one which could have been adopted with any hope of success. Though
complicated in appearance, it was in reality the simplest mode in which
the coöperation of the States could have been secured. The commissions
were, upon the whole, happily constituted; they were framed in each
State without reference to party views. By their presence in Washington,
it was in the power of the Secretary of State to avail himself, at every
difficult conjuncture, of their counsel. Limited in number, they yet
represented the public opinion of the two States, as fully as it could
have been done by the entire body of their legislatures; while it is
quite evident that any attempt to refer to large deliberative bodies at
home the discussion of the separate points which arose in the
negotiation, would have been physically impossible and politically
absurd. The commissioners were, on the part of Maine, Messrs. Edward
Kavanagh, Edward Kent, William P. Preble, and John Otis; and on the part
of Massachusetts, Messrs. Abbott Lawrence, John Mills, and Charles
Allen.
While we name with honor the gentlemen forming the commissions, a
tribute of respect is also due to the patriotism of the States
immediately concerned, and especially of Maine. To devolve on any
individuals, however high in the public regard, a power of transferring,
without ratification or appeal, a portion of the territory of the State,
for such consideration as those individuals might judge to be adequate,
was a measure to be expected only in a case of clear necessity and high
confidence. Mr. Webster is known to have regarded this with the utmost
concern and anxiety, as the turning-point of the whole attempt. His
letter to Governor Fairfield states the case with equal strength and
fairness, and puts the course there recommended in striking contrast
with that of proceeding to agree to another arbitration, as had been
offered by the preceding administration, and assented to by England. The
fate of the negotiation might be considered as involved in the success
of this appeal to the chief magistrate of Maine, and through him to his
constituents. It is said that, when Mr. Webster heard that the
legislature of Maine had adopted the resolutions for the commission, he
went to President Tyler and said, with evident satisfaction and some
animation, "_The crisis is past!_"
A considerable portion, though not the whole, of the official
correspondence between the Secretary of State and the other parties to
the negotiation is contained in the sixth volume of this collection. The
documents published exhibit full proof of the ability with which the
argument was conducted. They probably furnish but an inadequate specimen
of the judgment, tact, and moral power required to conduct such a
negotiation to a successful result. National, State, and individual
susceptibilities were to be respected and soothed; adverse interests,
real or imaginary, to be consulted; the ordeal of the Senate to be
passed through, after every other difficulty had been overcome; and all
this in an atmosphere as little favorable to such an operation as can
well be imagined. What neither Mr. Monroe in the "era of good feelings,"
nor the ability and experience of Messrs. Adams, Clay, and Gallatin, nor
General Jackson's overwhelming popularity, had been able to bring about,
was effected under the administration of Mr. Tyler, though that
administration seemed already crumbling for want of harmony between some
of the members and the head, and between that head and the party which
had brought him into power. No higher tribute can be paid to the ability
and temper which were brought to the work.
It was, however, in truth, an adjustment equally honorable and
advantageous to all parties. There is not an individual of common sense
or common conscience in Maine or Massachusetts, in the United States or
Great Britain, who would now wish it disturbed. It took from Maine a
tract of land northwest of the St. John, which the people of Maine
believed to belong to them under the treaty of 1783. But it is not
enough that we think ourselves right; the other party thinks the same;
and when there is no common tribunal which both acknowledge, there must
be compromise. The tract of land in question, for any purpose of
cultivation or settlement, was without value; and had it been otherwise,
it would not have been worth the cost of a naval armament or one
military expedition, to say nothing of the abomination of shedding blood
on such an issue. But the disputed title to the worthless tract of
morass, heath, and rock, covered with snow or fog throughout a great
part of the year, was not ceded gratuitously. We obtained the navigation
of the St. John, the natural outlet of the whole country, without which
the territory watered by it would have been of comparatively little
value; we obtained a good natural boundary as far as the course of the
river was followed; and we established the line which we claimed at the
head of the Connecticut, on Lake Champlain, and on the upper lakes;
territorial objects of considerable interest. Great Britain had equal
reason to be satisfied with the result. For her the territory northwest
of the St. John, worthless to us, had a geographical and political
value; it gave her a convenient connection between her provinces, which
was all she desired. Both sides gained the only object which really was
of importance to either, a settlement by creditable means of a wearisome
national controversy; an honorable escape from the scourge and curse of
war.
Both governments appear to have been fortunate in the constitution of
the joint commission to survey, run, and mark the long line of
boundary. Mr. Albert Smith, of Maine, was appointed commissioner on
the part of the United States, with Major James D. Graham, of the United
States Topographical Engineers as head of a scientific corps, and
Mr. Edward Webster[26] as his secretary. On the part of Great
Britain, Lieutenant-Colonel J. B. B. Estcourt, of her Majesty's
service, was appointed commissioner, with Captain W. H. Robinson, of
the Royal Engineers, as principal astronomer, and J. Scott, Esq., as
secretary. Other professional gentlemen were also employed on both
sides. Great harmony characterized all the proceedings and results of
the commission. The lines were accurately run, and that part of them
not designated by rivers was marked all the way by substantial cast-iron
monuments, with suitable inscriptions, at every mile, and at most of
the principal angles; and wherever the lines extended through
forests, the trees were cut down and cleared to the width of thirty
feet. All the islands in the St. John were also designated with iron
monuments, with inscriptions indicating the government to which they
belonged; and upon that and all other streams forming portions of the
boundary, monuments were erected at the junction of every branch with
the main river.
But it is time to advert to the other great and difficult questions
included in this adjustment. The extradition of fugitives from
justice is regarded by Grotius and other respectable authorities as
the duty of states, by the law of nations. Other authorities reject
this doctrine;[27] and if it be the law of nations, it requires for
its execution so much administrative machinery as to be of no
practical value without treaty stipulations. The treaty of 1794 with
Great Britain (Jay's treaty) made provision for a mutual extradition
of fugitives, in cases of murder and forgery; and the case of Jonathan
Robbins, memorable for the argument of Chief Justice Marshall in
defence of his surrender, gave a political notoriety to that feature of
the treaty not favorable to its renewal in subsequent negotiations.
This treaty stipulation expired by its own limitation in 1806.
Besides the convenience of such an understanding on the part of the two
great commercial countries, from which language, personal appearance,
and manners render mutual escape so easy, the condition of the frontier
of the United States and Canada was such as to make this provision all
but necessary for the preservation of the peace of the two countries. An
extensive secret organization existed in the border States, the object
of which was, under the delusive name of "sympathy," to foment and aid
rebellion in the British Provinces. Although an agreement for mutual
extradition of necessity left untouched a great deal of political
agitation unfriendly to border peace, murder and arson were, of course,
within its provisions. It appears from the testimony of the parties best
informed on the subject, that the happiest consequences flowed from this
article of the treaty of Washington. No more was heard of border forays,
"Hunters' Lodges," "Associations for the Liberty of Canada," or
violences offered or retaliated across the line. The mild, but certain
influence of law imposed a restraint, which even costly and formidable
military means had not been found entirely adequate to produce.
The stipulations for extradition in the treaty of Washington appear to
have served as a model for those since entered into between the most
considerable European powers. A convention for the same purpose was
concluded between England and France on the 13th of February, 1843, and
other similar compacts have still more recently been negotiated. Between
the United States and Great Britain the operation of this part of the
treaty has, in all ordinary cases, been entirely satisfactory. Persons
charged with the crimes to which its provisions extend have been
mutually surrendered; and the cause of public justice, and in many cases
important private interests, have been materially served on both sides
of the water.
Not inferior in importance and delicacy to the other subjects provided
for by the treaty was that which concerned the measures for the
suppression of "the slave-trade" on the coast of Africa. In order to
understand the difficulties with which Mr. Webster had to contend on
this subject, a brief history of the question must be given. The law of
nations, as understood and expounded by the most respectable authorities
and tribunals, European and American, recognizes the right of search of
neutral vessels in time of war, by the public ships of the belligerents.
It recognizes no right of search in time of peace. It makes no
distinction between a right of visitation and a right of search. To
compel a trading-vessel, against the will of her commander, to come to
and be boarded, for any purpose whatsoever, is an exercise of the right
of search which the law of nations concedes to belligerents for certain
purposes. To do this in time of peace, under whatever name it may be
excused or justified, is to perform an act of mere power, for which the
law of nations affords no warrant. The moral quality of the action, and
the estimate formed of it, will of course depend upon circumstances,
motives, and manner. If an armed ship board a vessel under reasonable
suspicion that she is a pirate, and when there is no other convenient
mode of ascertaining that point, there would be no cause of blame,
although the suspicion turned out to be groundless.
The British government, for the praiseworthy purpose of putting a stop
to the traffic in slaves, has at different times entered into
conventions with several of the states of Europe authorizing a mutual
right of search of the trading-vessels of each contracting party by the
armed cruisers of the other party. These treaties give no right to
search the vessels of nations not parties to them. But if an armed ship
of either party should search a vessel of a third power under a
reasonable suspicion that she belonged to the other contracting party,
and was pursuing the slave-trade in contravention of the treaty, this
act of power, performed by mistake, and with requisite moderation and
circumspection in the manner, would not be just ground of offence. It
would, however, authorize a reasonable expectation of indemnification on
behalf of the private individuals who might suffer by the detention, as
in other cases of injury inflicted on innocent persons by public
functionaries acting with good intentions, but at their peril.
The government of the United States, both in its executive and
legislative branches, has at almost all times manifested an extreme
repugnance to enter into conventions for a mutual right of search. It
has not yielded to any other power in its aversion to the slave-trade,
which it was the first government to denounce as piracy. The reluctance
in question grew principally out of the injuries inflicted upon the
American commerce, and still more out of the personal outrages in the
impressment of American seamen, which took place during the wars of
Napoleon, and incidentally to the belligerent right of search and the
enforcement of the Orders in Council and the Berlin and Milan Decrees.
Besides a wholesale confiscation of American property, hundreds of
American seamen were impressed into the ships of war of Great Britain.
So deeply had the public sensibility been wounded on both points, that
any extension of the right of search by the consent of the United States
was for a long time nearly hopeless.
But this feeling, strong and general as it was, yielded at last to the
detestation of the slave-trade. Toward the close of the second
administration of Mr. Monroe the executive had been induced, acting
under the sanction of resolutions of the two houses of Congress, to
agree to a convention with Great Britain for a mutual right of search of
vessels suspected of being engaged in the traffic. This convention was
negotiated in London by Mr. Rush on the part of the United States, Mr.
Canning being the British Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs.
In defining the limits within which this right should be exercised, the
coasts of America were included. The Senate were of opinion that such a
provision might be regarded as an admission that the slave-trade was
carried on between the coasts of Africa and the United States, contrary
to the known fact, and to the reproach either of the will or power of
the United States to enforce their laws, by which it was declared to be
piracy. It also placed the whole coast of the Union under the
_surveillance_ of the cruisers of a foreign power. The Senate,
accordingly, ratified the treaty, with an amendment exempting the coasts
of the United States from the operation of the article. They also
introduced other amendments of less importance.
On the return of the treaty to London thus amended, Mr. Canning gave way
to a feeling of dissatisfaction at the course pursued by the Senate, not
so much on account of any decided objection to the amendment in itself
considered, as to the claim of the Senate to introduce any change into a
treaty negotiated according to instructions. Under the influence of this
feeling, Mr. Canning refused to ratify the treaty as amended, and no
further attempt was at that time made to renew the negotiation.
It will probably be admitted on all hands, at the present day, that Mr.
Canning's scruple was without foundation. The treaty had been
negotiated by this accomplished statesman, under the full knowledge that
the Constitution of the United States reserves this power to the Senate.
That it should be exercised was, therefore, no more matter of complaint,
than that the treaty should be referred at all to the ratification of
the Senate. The course pursued by Mr. Canning was greatly to be
regretted, as it postponed the amicable adjustment of this matter for
eighteen years, not without risk of serious misunderstanding in the
interval.
Attempts were made on the part of England, during the ministry of Lord
Melbourne, to renew the negotiation with the United States, but without
success. Conventions between France and England, for a mutual right of
search within certain limits, were concluded in 1831 and 1833, under the
ministry of the Duc de Broglie, without awakening the public sensibility
in the former country. As these treaties multiplied, the activity of the
English cruisers increased. After the treaty with Portugal, in 1838, the
vessels of that country, which, with those of Spain, were most largely
engaged in the traffic, began to assume the flag of the United States as
a protection; and in many cases, also, although the property of vessels
and cargo had, by collusive transfers on the African coast, become
Spanish or Portuguese, the vessels had been built and fitted out in the
United States, and too often, it may be feared, with American capital.
Vessels of this description were provided with two sets of papers, to be
used as occasion might require.
Had nothing further been done by British cruisers than to board and
search these vessels, whether before or after a transfer of this kind,
no complaint would probably have been made by the government of the
United States. But, as many American vessels were engaged in lawful
commerce on the coast of Africa, it frequently happened that they were
boarded by British cruisers, not always under the command of discreet
officers. Some voyages were broken up, officers and men occasionally
ill-treated, and vessels sent to the United States or Sierra Leone for
adjudication.
In 1840 an agreement was made between the officers in command of the
British and American squadrons respectively, sanctioning a reciprocal
right of search on the coast of Africa. It will be found among the
papers pertaining to this subject, in the sixth volume of this
collection. It was a well-meant, but unauthorized step, and was
promptly disavowed by the administration of Mr. Van Buren. Its
operation, while it lasted, was but to increase the existing
difficulty. Reports of the interruptions experienced by our commerce
in the African waters began greatly to multiply; and there was a
strong interest on the part of those surreptitiously engaged in the
traffic to give them currency. A deep feeling began to be manifested
in the country; and the correspondence between the American Minister in
London and Lord Palmerston, in the last days of the Melbourne ministry,
was such as to show that the controversy had reached a critical point.
Such was the state of the question when Mr. Webster entered the
Department of State.
The controversy was transmitted, as we have seen, to the new
administrations on both sides of the water, but soon assumed a somewhat
modified character. The quintuple treaty, as it was called, was
concluded at London, on the 20th of December, 1841, by England, France,
Austria, Prussia, and Russia; and information of that fact, as we have
seen above, was given by Lord Aberdeen to Mr. Everett the same day. A
strong desire was intimated that the United States would join this
association of the great powers, but no formal invitation for that
purpose was addressed to them. But the recent occurrences on the coast
of Africa, and the tone of the correspondence above alluded to, had
increased the standing repugnance of the United States to the
recognition of a right of search in time of peace.
In the mean time, the same complaints, sometimes just, sometimes
exaggerated, sometimes groundless, had reached France from the coast of
Africa, and a strong feeling against the right of search was produced in
that country. The incidents connected with the adjustment of the Syrian
question, in 1840, had greatly irritated the French ministry and people,
and the present was deemed a favorable moment for retaliation. On the
assembling of the Chambers, an amendment was moved by M. Lefebvre to the
address in reply to the king's speech in the following terms: "We have
also the confidence, that, in granting its concurrence to the
suppression of a criminal traffic, your government will know how to
preserve from every attack the interest of our commerce and the
independence of our flag." This amendment was adopted by the unanimous
vote of the Chambers.
This was well understood to be a blow aimed at the quintuple treaty. It
was the most formidable parliamentary check ever encountered by M.
Guizot's administration. It excited profound sensation throughout
Europe. It compelled the French ministry to make the painful sacrifice
of a convention negotiated agreeably to instructions, and not differing
in principle from those of 1831 and 1833, which were consequently
liable to be involved in its fate. The ratification of the quintuple
treaty was felt to be out of the question. Although it soon appeared
that the king was determined to sustain M. Guizot, it was by no means
apparent in what manner his administration was to be rescued from
the present embarrassment.
The public feeling in France was considerably heightened by various
documents which appeared at this juncture, in connection with the
controversy between the United States and Great Britain. The President's
message and its accompanying papers reached Europe about the period of
the opening of the session. A very sew days after the adoption of M.
Lefebvre's amendment, a pamphlet, written by General Cass, was published
in Paris, and, being soon after translated into French and widely
circulated, contributed to strengthen the current of public feeling. A
more elaborate essay was, in the course of the season, published by Mr.
Wheaton, the Minister of the United States at Berlin, in which the
theory of a right of search in time of peace was vigorously assailed.
The preceding sketch of the history of the question will show the
difficulty of the position in reference to this most important interest,
at the time Lord Ashburton's mission was instituted. With what practical
good sense and high statesmanship the controversy was terminated is well
known to the country. It is unnecessary here to retrace the steps of the
correspondence, to comment on the eighth article of the treaty of
Washington, or to analyze the parliamentary and diplomatic discussions
to which in the following year it gave rise. It is enough to say, that,
under circumstances of some embarrassment to the Department of State, a
course of procedure was happily devised by Mr. Webster, and incorporated
into the treaty, which, leaving untouched the metaphysics of the
question, furnished a satisfactory practical solution of the
difficulty. Circumstances having made a restatement expedient of the
principles maintained by the United States on this most important
subject, a letter was addressed by Mr. Webster to Mr. Everett, on the
28th of March, 1843, to be read to the British Secretary of State for
Foreign Affairs, in which the law of nations applicable to the subject
was expounded by the American Secretary with a clearness and power which
will render any further discussion of the subject, under its present
aspects, entirely superfluous. Nor will it be thought out of place to
acknowledge the fairness, good temper, and ability with which the
doctrine and practice of the English government were sustained by the
Earl of Aberdeen.
The wisdom with which the eighth article of the treaty was drawn up was
soon seen in its consequences. Its effect was decisive. It put a stop to
all discontent at home in reference to the interruption of our lawful
commerce on the coast of Africa. Abroad, it raised the jealousy already
existing in France on this subject to the point of uncontrollable
repugnance. The ratification of the quintuple treaty had long been
abandoned. It was soon evident that the conventions of 1831 and 1833
must be given up. In the course of the year 1844, the Duc de Broglie,
the honorable and accomplished minister by whom they had been
negotiated, accepted a special mission to London, for the purpose of
coming to some satisfactory arrangement by way of substitute, and a
convention was soon concluded with the British government on precisely
the same principles with those of the treaty of Washington.
It may be hoped that the important suggestion of Mr. Webster will be
borne in mind, in any future discussions of this and other maritime
questions, that the policy of the United States is not that of a feeble
naval power interested in exaggerating the doctrine of neutral
inviolability. A respect for every independent flag is a common interest
of all civilized states, powerful or weak; but the rank of the United
States among naval powers, and their position as the great maritime
power on the western coasts of the Atlantic and the eastern coasts of
the Pacific, may lead them to doubt the expediency of pressing too far
the views they have hitherto held, and moderate their anxiety to
construe with extreme strictness the rights which the law of nations
concedes to public vessels.
The three subjects on which we have dwelt, namely, the northeastern
boundary, the extradition of fugitives, and the suppression of the
slave-trade, were the only ones which required to be provided for by
treaty stipulation. Other subjects, scarcely less important and fully as
difficult were happily disposed of in the correspondence of the
plenipotentiaries. These were the affair of the "Caroline," that of the
"Creole," and the question of impressment. Our limits do not permit us
to dwell at length on these topics; but we shall be pardoned for one or
two reflections.
So urgent is the pressure on the public mind of the successive events
which demand attention each as it presents itself, that the formidable
difficulties growing out of the destruction of the "Caroline" and the
arrest of McLeod are already fading from recollection. They formed, in
reality, a crisis of a most serious and delicate character. A glance at
the correspondence of the two governments at Washington and London
sufficiently shows this to be the case. The violation of the territory
of the United States in the destruction of the "Caroline," however
unwarrantable the conduct of the "sympathizers" which provoked it,
became, from the moment the British government assumed the
responsibility of the act, an incident of the gravest character. On the
other hand, the inability of the government of the United States to
extricate McLeod from the risks of a capital trial in a State court,
although the government of England demanded his liberation on the ground
that he was acting under the legal orders of his superior, presented a
difficulty in the working of our system equally novel and important.
Other cases had arisen in which important constitutional principles had
failed to take effect, for want of the requisite legislative provisions.
It is believed that this was the first time in which a difficulty of
this kind had presented itself in our foreign relations. A more
threatening one can scarcely be imagined. In addition to the
embarrassment occasioned by the refusal of the executive and judiciary
of New York to yield to the representations of the general government,
the violent interference of the mob presented new difficulties of the
most deplorable character. If McLeod had been executed, it is not too
much to say, that war would at once have ensued. His acquittal averted
this impending danger. The conciliatory spirit cannot be too warmly
commended with which, on the one hand, the proper reparation was made by
Lord Ashburton for the violation of the American territory, and, on the
other hand, Congress, by the passage of an appropriate law, provided an
effectual legislative remedy for any future similar case. They show with
what simplicity and ease the greatest evils may be averted, and the most
desirable ends achieved, by statesmen and governments animated by a
sincere desire to promote the welfare of those who have placed power in
their hands, not for selfish, party purposes, but for the public good.
There is, perhaps, no one of the papers written by Mr. Webster as
Secretary of State, in which so much force of statement and power of
argument are displayed as in the letter on "impressment." To incorporate
a stipulation on this subject into a treaty was, regarding the
antecedents of the question, impracticable. But the reply of Lord
Ashburton to Mr. Webster's announcement of the American principle must
be considered as acquiescence on the part of his government. It may be
doubted whether this odious and essentially illegal practice will ever
again be systematically resorted to, even in England.[28] Considering
the advance made by public sentiment an all questions connected with
personal liberty, "a hot-press on the Thames" would hardly stand the
ordeal of an investigation in Parliament at the present day. It is
certain that the right of impressing seamen from American vessels could
never be practically asserted in a future war with any other effect than
that of adding the United States to the parties in the contest. No
refinements in the doctrine of natural allegiance, although their
theoretical soundness might equal their subtilty, would be of the least
avail here. To force seamen from the deck of a peaceful neutral vessel,
pursuing a lawful commerce, and compel them to serve for an indefinite
and hopeless period on board a foreign man-of-war, is an act of power
and violence to which no nation will submit that is able to resist it.
In the case of the United States and Great Britain, that community of
language and resemblance in general appearance which may have been
considered as palliating the most deplorable results of the exercise of
this power, in reality constitute the strongest reason for its
abandonment. The unquestionable danger that, with the best intentions,
the boarding officer may mistake an American for an Englishman; the
certainty that a reckless lieutenant, unmindful of consequences, but
bent upon recruiting his ship on a remote foreign station, will pretend
to believe that he is seizing the subjects of his own government,
whatever may be the evidence to the contrary, are reasons of themselves
for denying on the threshold the existence of a right exposed to such
inevitable and intolerable abuse.
These and other views of the subject are presented in Mr. Webster's
letter to Lord Ashburton of the 8th of August, 1842, with a strength of
reasoning and force of illustration not often equalled in a state paper.
That letter was spoken of, in the hearing of the writer of this memoir,
by one whose name, if it could be mentioned with propriety, would give
the highest authority to the remark, as a composition not surpassed by
any thing in the language. The principles laid down in it may be
considered as incorporated into the public law of the United States, and
will have their influence beyond our own territorial limits and beyond
our own time.
Some disappointment was probably felt, when the treaty of Washington was
published, that a settlement of the Oregon question was not included
among its provisions. It need not be said that a subject of such
magnitude did not escape the attention of the negotiators. It was,
however, speedily inferred by Mr. Webster, from the purport of his
informal conferences with Lord Ashburton on this point, that an
arrangement of this question was not then practicable, and that to
attempt it would be to put the entire negotiation to great risk of
failure. On the other hand, it was not less certain that, by closing up
the other matters in controversy, the best preparation was made for
bringing the Oregon dispute to an amicable issue, whenever circumstances
should favor that undertaking. Considerable firmness was no doubt
required to act upon this policy, and to forego the attempt, at least,
to settle a question rapidly growing into the most formidable magnitude.
It is unnecessary to say how completely the course adopted has been
justified by the event.
* * * * *
We have in the preceding remarks confined ourselves to the topics
connected with the treaty of Washington. But other subjects of great
importance connected with the foreign affairs of the country engaged the
attention of Mr. Webster as Secretary of State.
The first of these pertained to our controversies with Mexico, and was
treated in a letter to M. de Bocanegra, the Mexican Secretary of State
and Foreign Relations. The great and unexpected changes which have taken
place in that quarter since the date of this correspondence will not
impair the interest with which it will be read. It throws important
light on the earlier stages of our controversy with that ill-advised and
infatuated government. Among the papers in this part of the volume are
those which relate to the Santa Fé prisoners and Captain Jones's attack
on Monterey.
Under the head of "Relations with Spain" will be found a correspondence
of great interest between the Chevalier d'Argaïz, the representative of
that government, and Mr. Webster, on the subject of the "Amistad." The
pertinacity with which this matter was pursued by Spain, after its
adjudication by the Supreme Court of the United States, furnishes an
instructive commentary upon the sincerity of that government in its
measures for the abolition of the slave-trade. The entire merits of this
important and extraordinary case are condensed in Mr. Webster's letters
of the 1st of September, 1841, and 21st of June, 1842.
Of still greater interest are the institution of the mission to China,
and the steps which led to the establishment of the independence of the
Sandwich Islands. The sixth volume of this collection contains the
instructions given to Mr. Cushing as commissioner to China, and the
correspondence between Mr. Webster and Messrs. Richards and Haalilio on
behalf of the Sandwich Islands. At any period less crowded with
important events the opening of diplomatic relations with China, and the
conclusion of a treaty of commerce with that power, would have been
deemed occurrences of unusual importance. It certainly reflects great
credit on the administration, that it acted with such promptitude and
efficiency in seizing this opportunity of multiplying avenues of
commercial intercourse. Nor is less praise due to the energy and skill
of the negotiator,[29] to whom this novel and important undertaking was
confided, and who was able to embark from China, on his return homeward,
in six months after his arrival, having in the mean time satisfactorily
concluded the treaty.
The application of the representatives of the Sandwich Islands to the
government of the United States, and the countenance extended to them at
Washington, exercised a most salutary and seasonable influence over the
destiny of those islands. The British government was promptly made aware
of the course pursued by the United States, and was no doubt led, in a
considerable degree, by this circumstance, to promise the Hawaiian
delegates, on the part of England, to respect the independent neutrality
of their government. In the mean time, the British admiral on that
station had taken provisional possession of them on behalf of his
government, in anticipation of a similar movement which was expected on
the part of France. If intelligence of this occurrence had been received
in London before the promise above alluded to was given by Lord Aberdeen
to Messrs. Richards and Haalilio, it is not impossible that Great
Britain might have felt herself warranted in retaining the protectorate
of the Hawaiian Islands as an offset for the occupation of Tahiti by the
French. As it was, the temporary arrangement of the British admiral was
disavowed, and the government restored to the native chief.
Among the papers contained in the sixth volume will be found a
correspondence between Mr. Webster and the Portuguese Minister, on the
subject of duties on Portuguese wines, and a report of great importance
on the Sound duties and the Zoll-Verein, topics to which the recent
changes in the Germanic system will henceforward impart a greatly
increased importance.
This brief enumeration will of itself sufficiently show the extensive
range of the subjects to which the attention of Mr. Webster was called,
during the two years for which he filled the Department of State.
The published correspondence probably forms but a small portion of the
official labors of the Department of State for the period during which
it was filled by Mr. Webster. They constitute, nevertheless, the most
important part of the documentary record of a period of official
service, brief, indeed, but as beneficial to the country as any of which
the memory is preserved in her annals. The administration of General
Harrison found the United States, in the spring of 1841, on the verge of
a war, not with a feeble Spanish province, scarcely capable of a
respectable resistance, but with the most powerful government on earth.
The conduct of our foreign relations was intrusted to Mr. Webster, as
Secretary of State, and in the two years during which he filled that
office controversies of fifty years' standing were terminated, new
causes of quarrel that sprung up like hydra's heads were settled, and
peace was preserved upon honorable terms. The British government, fresh
from the conquest of China, perhaps never felt itself stronger than in
the year 1842, and a full share of credit is due to the spirit of
conciliation which swayed its counsels. Much is due to the wise and
amiable minister who was despatched from England on the holy errand of
peace; much to the patriotism of the Senate of the United States, who
confirmed the treaty of Washington by a larger majority than ever before
sustained a measure of this kind which divided public opinion; but the
first meed of praise is unquestionably due to the American negotiator.
Let the just measure of that praise be estimated, by reflecting what
would have been our condition during the last few years, if, instead of,
or in addition to, the war with Mexico, we had been involved in a war
with Great Britain.
FOOTNOTES
[23] This chapter is republished, with but slight modifications, from
the volume of Mr. Webster's Diplomatic and Official Papers which
appeared in 1848, to which it served as the Introduction.
[24] Mr. Stevenson.
[25] Senate Papers, Twenty-seventh Congress, First Session, No. 33.
[26] Younger son of Mr. Webster, who died in Mexico, in 1848, being a
major in the regiment of Massachusetts Volunteers.
[27] The authorities are given in Story's Commentaries Vol. III. pp.
675, 676; Conflict of Laws, pp. 520, 522; and in Kent's
Commentaries, Vol. I. pp. 36, 37.
[28] The following passage from a letter of Robert Walsh, Esq., to the
editors of the National Intelligencer, dated Paris, 28th
October, 1842, furnishes confirmation of the remark in the
text:--
"The former journal [The Times], of the 18th instant,
acknowledges that Mr. Webster 'has not exaggerated the
hardships and evils which the practice of impressment
occasioned in the last war.' It ratifies his ideas of the
probable aggravation of them, if the practice should be ever
renewed; it would even dispense with press-warrants at home, as
adverse to the general principles of British liberty and law:
it advises some general measure for the entire abolition of
arbitrary impressment both at home and abroad, and it expresses
its belief of a very strong probability, that, in the event
of a war, no instructions for the impressment of British
seamen found in American merchant-vessels will be issued to her
Majesty's cruisers. The Standard chimes with the great oracle,
and concludes in this strain: 'We may infer that, whatever
may be the plan hereafter for managing our navy, impressment
will never again be resorted to; this is beyond a doubt: _the
practice complained of by Mr. Webster will be abandoned_.'"
[29] Mr. Cushing.
CHAPTER IX.
Mr. Webster resigns his Place in Mr. Tyler's Cabinet.--Attempts to
draw public Attention to the projected Annexation of
Texas.--Supports Mr. Clay's Nomination for the Presidency.--Causes
of the Failure of that Nomination.--Mr. Webster returns to the
Senate of the United States.--Admission of Texas to the Union.--The
War with Mexico.--Mr. Webster's Course in Reference to the
War.--Death of Major Webster in Mexico.--Mr. Webster's unfavorable
Opinion of the Mexican Government.--Settlement of the Oregon
Controversy.--Mr. Webster's Agency in effecting the
Adjustment.--Revival of the Sub-Treasury System and Repeal of the
Tariff Law of 1842.--Southern Tour.--Success of the Mexican War and
Acquisition of the Mexican Provinces.--Efforts in Congress to
organize a Territorial Government for these Provinces.--Great
Exertions of Mr. Webster on the last Night of the
Session.--Nomination of General Taylor, and Course of Mr. Webster in
Reference to it.--A Constitution of State Government adopted by
California prohibiting Slavery.--Increase of Antislavery
Agitation.--Alarming State of Affairs.--Mr. Webster's Speech for the
Union.--Circumstances under which it was made, and Motives by which
he was influenced.--General Taylor's Death, and the Accession of Mr.
Fillmore to the Presidency.--Mr. Webster called to the Department of
State.
Mr. Webster remained in the Department of State but a little over two
years. His last act was the preparation of the instructions of Mr.
Cushing, who had been appointed Commissioner to China. Difficulties had
occurred the summer before, between President Tyler and some of the
members of his Cabinet, and all of those gentlemen, with the exception
of Mr. Webster, tendered their resignations, which were accepted. Hard
thoughts were entertained of Mr. Webster in some quarters for continuing
to hold his seat after the resignation of his colleagues. President
Tyler, however, had in no degree withdrawn his confidence from Mr.
Webster in reference to the foreign affairs of the country, nor
interfered with the administration of his department, and Mr. Webster
conceived that the interests involved in his remaining at his post were
far too important to be sacrificed to punctilio. His own sense of duty
in this respect was confirmed by the unanimous counsel of the
Massachusetts delegation in Congress, and by judicious friends in all
parts of the country. In fact, it will be remembered that when
difficulties sprung up between Mr. Tyler and the Whig party in Congress,
in 1842, the Whig press generally throughout the country called upon the
members of the Cabinet appointed by General Harrison to retain their
places till they should be removed by Mr. Tyler.
Mr. Webster remained in private life during the residue of President
Tyler's administration, occupied as usual with professional pursuits,
and enjoying in the appropriate seasons the retirement of his farm. He
endeavored by private communications to arouse the feeling of the North
to the projects which he perceived to be in agitation for the annexation
of Texas but the danger was regarded at that time as too remote to be
contended against. A short time only elapsed before the fulfilment of
his anticipations was forced upon the country, with fearful urgency, and
a train of consequences of which it will be left to a late posterity to
witness the full development. Between the years 1843 and 1845 the
fortunes of the United States were subjected to an influence, for good
or for evil, not to be exhausted for centuries.
The nomination of Mr. Clay to the Presidency in 1844 was cordially
supported by Mr. Webster. He took the field, as in the summer of 1840 in
favor of General Harrison. The proofs of the untiring zeal with which he
entered into the canvass, and of the great power and fertility with
which he discussed the various topics of the day, will be seen in the
second volume of the present collection. It has, however, been found
impossible to insert more than a selection of the speeches made by him
during the campaign. Others not inferior in merit and interest were made
by him in the course of the summer and autumn of 1844.
It is well known that the result of this election was decisive of the
question of the annexation of Texas. The opinions expressed by Mr. Van
Buren against the immediate consummation of that project had prevented
his receiving the nomination of the Baltimore Convention. Mr. Clay was
pledged against the measure, and Mr. Polk was selected as its sure
friend. If in 1844 the friends of Mr. Van Buren, instead of giving in
their adhesion to the Baltimore nomination (which was in fact turning
the scale in favor of Texas), had been prepared, as in 1848, to support
a separate nomination, or even if the few thousand votes cast by the
"Liberty party" against Mr. Clay had been given in his favor, he would
have been chosen President of the United States, to the indefinite
postponement of the annexation of Texas and the Mexican war, with all
their consequences. But in great things as in small, men throw away the
substance while they grasp at the shadow.
At the first session of the Twenty-ninth Congress (1845-46), Mr. Webster
took his seat as the successor of Mr. Choate in the Senate of the United
States. The question of the admission of Texas was decided at the very
commencement of the session. It was opposed by Mr. Webster. To all the
other objections to the measure in his mind was added that of
unconstitutionality. The annexation was now brought about simply by a
joint resolution of the two houses, after it had been found impossible
to effect it by treaty, the only form known to the Constitution by which
a compact can be entered into with a foreign power. Mr. Jefferson was of
opinion in 1803, that even a treaty with France was not sufficient for
the annexation of Louisiana, but that an amendment of the Constitution
was necessary for that purpose. In 1845 the executive and a majority of
Congress, having failed to carry the ratification of a treaty of
annexation by the constitutional majority, scrupled not to accomplish
their purpose by a joint resolution of the two houses; and this measure
was effected under the lead of statesmen who claim to construe the
Constitution with literal strictness. Events like these furnish a
painful illustration of the frailty of constitutional restraints as a
barrier against the consummation of the favorite measures of a dominant
party.
The great event of the administration of President Polk was the war with
Mexico. The time has not yet arrived when the counsels under which this
war was brought about can be fully unfolded. On the 2d of December,
1845, in his first annual message, having communicated to Congress the
acceptance by Texas of the terms of annexation offered by the joint
resolution, President Polk thus expressed himself:--
"This accession to our territory has been a bloodless achievement.
No arm of force has been raised to produce the result. The sword has
had no part in the victory. We have not sought to extend our
territorial possessions by conquest, or our republican institutions
over a reluctant people. It was the deliberate homage of each people
to the great principle of our federative Union."
The proffered annexation of Texas had been declined both by General
Jackson and Mr. Van Buren, on the ground that, unless made with the
consent of Mexico, it would involve a war with that power. That this
would be the effect was not less certain on the 2d of December, 1845,
when Congress were congratulated on the "bloodless" acquisition, than it
was when, on the 13th of January following, General Taylor was
instructed to occupy the left bank of the Rio del Norte. In fact, in the
very message in which President Polk remarks to Congress "that the sword
had had no part in the victory," he gives them also the significant
information, that, upon the earnest appeal both of the Congress and
convention of Texas, he had ordered "an efficient military force to take
a position between the Nueces and the Del Norte."
This force, however efficient in proportion to its numbers and in virtue
of the gallantry and skill of its commander, was found to be inadequate
to sustain the brunt of the Mexican arms. Rapid movements on the part of
Generals Ampudia and Arista, commanding on the frontier, seriously
endangered the safety of General Taylor's force, and it became necessary
for Congress to strengthen it by prompt reinforcements. In this way the
war was commenced. No formal declaration had taken place, nor had it
been in the power of Congress to make known its will on the subject,
till an absolute necessity arose of reinforcing General Taylor, and the
subject had ceased to be one for legislative discretion.
Under these circumstances it was of course impossible for Mr. Webster to
approve the war. It had been brought on by the executive will, and
without the concurrence of Congress till Congress had ceased to have an
option, and its well-known ulterior objects were such as he could not
but contemplate with equal disapprobation and alarm. Still, however, in
common with the body of his political friends, in and out of Congress,
he abstained from all factious opposition, and all measures calculated
to embarrass the government. The supplies were voted for by him, but he
never ceased to urge upon the President to pursue a magnanimous policy
toward the distracted and misgoverned country with which we had been
brought in collision. Nor did his opinions of the character of the war
lead him to discourage the inclination of his younger son, Mr. Edward
Webster, to accept a commission in the regiment of Massachusetts
Volunteers. This young gentleman had evinced an energy beyond his years,
and practical talent of a high order, as a member of the commission for
marking the boundary line between Maine and the British Provinces under
the treaty of Washington. His friends looked forward with confidence to
his running a brilliant military career. These hopes, like those which
accompanied so many other gallant and patriotic spirits to the scene of
action, were destined to be early blasted. Major Webster fell a victim
to the labors and exposures of the service, and to the climate of the
country, under the walls of Mexico.
To avoid all misconception, it may be proper to state that Mr. Webster
has at all times entertained an unfavorable opinion of the various
administrations by which Mexico, almost ever since her revolution, has
been successively misgoverned. He has felt constrained to regard the
greater part of them as military factions, bent more upon supplanting
each other than upon promoting the welfare of their country. He was
fully aware of the justice of many of the complaints of citizens of the
United States for wrongs inflicted and justice withheld. Both while in
the executive government himself, and as a member of Congress, he had
uniformly expressed himself in terms of severe condemnation of the
conduct of the Mexican government in withholding or delaying redress;
and he foresaw and foretold that, in obstinately refusing to recognize
the independence of Texas, she was laying up for herself a store of
consequences the most humiliating and disastrous. Nothing but the most
deplorable infatuation could have led the government of Mexico to
suppose, that, after the independence of Texas had been recognized by
the United States, Great Britain, France, and Belgium, it would be
possible for a power as feeble as that of Mexico to reduce the
rebellious province to submission. If any confirmation of these
statements is needed, it may be found in Mr. Webster's letter to Mr. de
Bocanegra, in the sixth volume of this collection.
The settlement of the controversy with England relative to the boundary
of Oregon was effected in the first year of Mr. Polk's administration.
The foundations for this adjustment had long been laid; in fact, as long
ago as the administration of Mr. Monroe, the United States had offered
to England the obvious basis of the extension of the forty-ninth degree
of latitude to the Pacific. Great Britain allowed herself to be
influenced by the Hudson's Bay Company so far, as to insist upon
following the course of the Columbia down to the sea. She even took the
extravagant ground that, although the United States, by the Louisiana
and Florida treaties, combined the Spanish and the French titles with
that of actual contiguity and prior discovery of the Columbia River,
they had no exclusive title to any portion of the territory, but that it
was all subject to her own joint and rival claim. This unreasonable
pretension brought the two countries to the verge of war. The Baltimore
Convention, in the year 1844, set up a claim, equally unreasonable, to
the whole of the territory. President Polk in his inaugural message,
quoting the words of the resolution of the Baltimore Convention,
pronounced our title to the territory to be "clear and unquestionable."
The assertion of these opposite extremes of pretension happily resulted
in the final adjustment on the forty-ninth degree. Mr. Webster had
uniformly been of opinion that this was the fair basis of settlement.
Had he supposed that an arrangement could have been effected on this
basis with Lord Ashburton, he would gladly have included it in the
treaty of Washington. After Mr. Webster's retirement from the Department
of State, it is stated by President Polk that Mr. Upshur instructed Mr.
Everett to offer that line to the British government; but the
negotiation had in the mean time, by the appointment of Mr. Pakenham,
been transferred to Washington. The offer of the forty-ninth degree of
latitude was renewed to Mr. Pakenham, but accompanied with conditions
which led him to decline it, and to express the hope that the United
States would make "some further proposal for the settlement of the
Oregon question more consistent with fairness and equity, and with the
reasonable expectations of the British government." The offer thus
injudiciously rejected was withdrawn by the administration. In this
dangerous juncture of affairs, the following incidents occurred, which
we give in the words of the "London Examiner":
"In reply to a question put to him in reference to the present war
establishments of this country, and the propriety of applying the
principle of arbitration in the settlement of disputes arising among
nations, Mr. McGregor, one of the candidates for the representation
of Glasgow, took occasion to narrate the following very important
and remarkable anecdote in connection with our recent, but now
happily terminated differences with the United States on the Oregon
question. At the time our ambassador at Washington, the Hon. Mr.
Pakenham, refused to negotiate on the forty-ninth parallel of north
latitude as the basis of a treaty, and when by that refusal the
danger of a rupture between Great Britain and America became really
imminent, Mr. Daniel Webster, formerly Secretary of State to the
American government, wrote a letter to Mr. McGregor, in which he
strongly deprecated Mr. Pakenham's conduct, which, if persisted in
and adopted at home, would, to a certainty, embroil the two
countries, and suggested an equitable compromise, taking the
forty-ninth parallel as the basis of an adjustment. Mr. McGregor
agreeing entirely with Mr. Webster in the propriety of a mutual
giving and taking to avoid a rupture, and the more especially as the
whole territory in dispute was not worth £20,000 to either power,
while the preparations alone for a war would cost a great deal more
before the parties could come into actual conflict, communicated the
contents of Mr. Webster's letter to Lord John Russell, who at the
time was living in the neighborhood of Edinburgh, and, in reply,
received a letter from Lord John, in which he stated his entire
accordance with the proposal recommended by Mr. Webster, and
approved of by Mr. McGregor, and requested the latter, as he (Lord
John) was not in a position to do it himself, to intimate his
opinion to Lord Aberdeen. Mr. McGregor, through Lord Canning,
Under-Secretary for the Foreign Department, did so, and the result
was, that the first packet that left England carried out to America
the proposal, in accordance with the communication already referred
to, on which the treaty of Oregon was happily concluded. Mr.
McGregor may, therefore, be very justly said to have been the
instrument of preserving the peace of the world; and for that alone,
even if he had no other services to appeal to, he has justly earned
the applause and admiration, not of his own countrymen only, but of
all men who desire to promote the best interests of the human
race."
Without wishing to detract in any degree from the praise due to Mr.
McGregor for his judicious and liberal conduct on this occasion, the
credit of the main result is exclusively due to his American
correspondent. A powerful influence was ascribed also to an able article
in the Edinburgh Review for April, 1845, in which the reasonableness of
this basis of settlement was set forth with great ability.
The first session of the Twenty-ninth Congress was signalized by the
revival of the sub-treasury system, and the overthrow of the tariff of
1842. At a moment when the public finances were, in reference to the
means of collection, custody, and transfer, in a sound and healthy
condition, the administration deemed it expedient to subject the country
and the treasury to the hazard and inconvenience of a change. Mr.
Webster spoke with equal earnestness and power against the renewal of
experiments which had already proved so disastrous; but the bill was
carried by a party vote. The same success attended the President's
recommendation of an entire change in the revenue system, by which,
instead of specific duties, _ad valorem_ duties were to be assessed on
the foreign valuation. Various other changes were made in the tariff
established in 1842, equally tending to depress our own manufactures,
and to give a preference to foreign over native labor, and this even in
cases where no benefit could be expected to accrue to the treasury from
the change. Mr. Webster made a truly Herculean effort against the
government project, in his speech of the 25th and 26th of July, 1846,
but the decree had gone forth. The scale was turned by the Senators from
the new State of Texas, which had been brought into the Union by the
votes of members of Congress whose constituents had the deepest interest
in sustaining the tariff of 1842.
In the spring of 1847, after the adjournment of Congress, Mr. Webster
undertook a tour to the South. His object was to pass by the way of the
Atlantic States to New Orleans, and to ascend the Mississippi. He had
never seen that part of the Union, and promised himself equal
gratification and instruction from an opportunity, however brief, of
personal inspection. He was ever of opinion that higher motives than
those of curiosity and recreation should lead the citizens of different
parts of the country to the interchange of visits of this kind. That
they had become so much less frequent than they were in former years he
regarded as one of the inauspicious features of the times. He was
accompanied on this excursion by his family. They passed hastily through
Virginia and North Carolina to South Carolina. At Charleston he was
received with the most distinguished attention and cordiality. He was
welcomed on his arrival by an assemblage of the most respectable
citizens. Entertainments were given him by the New England Society of
Charleston and by the Charleston Bar. At these festivals the sentiments
and speeches were of the most cordial description. Similar hospitalities
and honors were paid him at Columbia, Augusta, and Savannah. No trace of
sectional or party feeling detracted from the warmth of his reception.
His visit was everywhere regarded as an interesting public event.
Unhappily, his health failed him on his arrival at Savannah; and the
advance of the season made it impossible for him to execute the original
project of a journey to New Orleans. He was compelled to hasten back to
the North.
Meantime events of higher importance were in progress. Success crowned
our arms in the Mexican war. The military skill, gallantry, and
indomitable resolution of the great captains to whom the chief command
of the war had been committed, (though not by the first choice of the
administration,) aided by the spirit and discipline of the troops,
achieved the conquest of Mexico. Peace was dictated to her from
Washington, and a treaty concluded, by which extensive portions of her
territory, comprising the province of New Mexico and a considerable part
of California, were ceded to the United States. Mr. Webster, foreseeing
that these cessions would prove a Pandora's box of discord and strife
between the different sections of the Union, voted against the
ratification of the treaty. He was sustained in this course by some
Southern Whig Senators, but the constitutional majority deemed any
treaty better than the continuation of the war.
With the restoration of peace, the question what should be done with the
territories presented itself with alarming prominence. Formidable under
any circumstances, it became doubly so in consequence of the discovery
of gold in California, and the prodigious rush to that quarter of
adventurers from every part of the world. Population flocked into and
took possession of the country, its ancient political organization,
feeble at best, was subverted, and the immediate action of Congress was
necessary to prevent a state of anarchy. The House of Representatives
passed a bill providing for the organization of a territorial government
for the provinces newly acquired from Mexico, with the antislavery
proviso, borrowed from the Ordinance of 1787. This bill failed to pass
the Senate, and nothing was done at the first session of the Thirtieth
Congress to meet the existing emergency in California.
At the second session, bills were introduced into the Senate for
erecting California and New Mexico into States; the question of slavery
to be left to the people of the States respectively. These bills,
however, did not pass the Senate. A few days before the close of the
session, Mr. Walker of Wisconsin moved an amendment to the general
appropriation bill for the support of government, providing for the
extension of the revenue laws of the United States over California and
New Mexico; to extend the provisions of the Constitution of the United
States to these territories, together with all the laws applicable to
them; and granting authority to the President to appoint the officers
necessary to carry these provisions into effect. This amendment
prevailed in the Senate, but was further amended in the House, by adding
to it the "Wilmot Proviso." The Senate refused to accede to this
amendment of their amendment, and the two houses were brought to the
verge of a disagreement, which would have prevented the passage of the
general appropriation bill, and stopped the wheels of government. The
debates in the Senate were of the most impassioned kind, and were
protracted till five o'clock of Sunday morning, the 4th of March; when
the Senate, on the suggestion of Mr. Webster, disagreed to the amendment
of the House relative to California, and at the same time receded from
their own amendment, and thus passed the general appropriation bill, as
it originally came from the House. All provision for the territories was
necessarily sacrificed by this course; but a bill which had previously
passed the House, extending the revenue laws of the United States to
California, was passed by the Senate, and rescued the people of
California from an entire destitution of government on behalf of the
United States. The Senate on this occasion was, for the first time since
the adoption of the Constitution, on the verge of disorganization; and
it was felt throughout the day and night, that it was saved from falling
into that condition mainly by the parliamentary tact and personal
influence of Mr. Webster. This tribute was paid to Mr. Webster's arduous
exertions on that occasion by a member of Congress warmly opposed to
him.
Not the least important consequence of the Mexican war was the political
revolution in the United States of which it was the cause. When the
policy of invading and conquering Mexico was determined upon, it was
probably regarded by the administration as a measure calculated to
strengthen their party. Opponents were likely to expose themselves to
odium by disapproving the war. The commanding generals were both Whigs,
and one of them had been named as a candidate for the Presidency. It was
probably thought that, if they succeeded, the glory would accrue to the
administration; if they failed, the discredit would fall upon
themselves.
If anticipations like these were formed, they were signally
disappointed. A series of the most brilliant triumphs crowned the arms
both of General Taylor and General Scott. Those of General Taylor were
first in time; and as they had been preceded by doubts, anxieties, and,
in the case of Buena Vista, by rumors of disaster, they took the
stronger hold of the public mind. The nomination for the Presidency was
not reserved for the Whig convention. It was in effect made at Palto
Alto and Monterey, and was confirmed at Buena Vista. It was a movement
of the people to which resistance was in vain.
Statesmen and civilians, however, might well pause for a moment. The
late experience of the country, under a President elected in consequence
of military popularity, was not favorable to a repetition of the
experiment; and General Taylor was wholly unknown in political life. At
the Whig convention in Philadelphia other distinguished Whigs, General
Scott, Mr. Clay, and Mr. Webster, had divided the votes with General
Taylor. He was, however, selected by a great majority as the candidate
of the party. Mr. Webster took the view of this nomination which might
have been expected from a veteran statesman and a civilian of forty
years' experience in the service of the country. He had, in common with
the whole Whig party, in General Jackson's case, opposed the nomination
of a military chieftain. How many Whigs who hailed General Taylor's
nomination with enthusiasm had as good reasons for so doing as Mr.
Webster had for the moderation and reserve with which he spoke of it in
his Marshfield speech? Few persons, at the present day, will find in
that speech any thing, with respect to General Taylor's nomination, from
which a candid and impartial judgment would dissent; and it is well
known, that, in the progress of the canvass, that nomination found no
firmer supporter than Mr. Webster. On his accession to the Presidency,
General Taylor found Mr. Webster disposed and prepared to give his
administration a cordial and efficient support.
In the summer and autumn of 1849 events of the utmost importance
occurred in California. The people of that region, left almost entirely
without a government by Congress, met in convention to form a
constitution; and although nearly half of the members who were
new-comers were from the Southern States, they unanimously agreed to the
prohibition of slavery. The constitution prepared by the convention was
accepted by the people, and with it they applied for admission to the
Union. General Riley, who had been appointed by the President to command
the forces in that territory, was instructed to facilitate, as far as it
was in his power, the assembling of a convention; and the course pursued
by the convention and the people in the formation of the constitution
was understood to be in all respects approved by President Taylor.
Other occurrences, however, had in the mean time taken place, which
materially increased the difficulties attending the territorial
question. The subject of slavery had for fifteen or twenty years been
agitated with steadily increasing warmth, and for the latter portion of
the period with growing violence. On the acquisition of the Mexican
provinces, the representatives of the non-slaveholding States generally
deemed it their duty to introduce into the acts passed for their
government a restriction analogous to the antislavery proviso of the
Ordinance of 1787. A motion to this effect having been made by Mr.
Wilmot of Pennsylvania, by way of amendment to one of the appropriation
bills passed during the war, the restriction has obtained the name of
the "Wilmot Proviso." This motion in the House of Representatives was
extensively seconded by the press, by popular assemblies, and by
legislative resolutions throughout the non-slaveholding States, and
caused a considerable increase of antislavery agitation.
The South, of course, took an interest in the question not inferior
to that of the North. The extension of the United States on the
southwestern frontier has long been a cardinal point in the policy of
most Southern statesmen. The application of an antislavery proviso to
territories acquired by conquest in that quarter came into direct
conflict with this policy. Meetings were accordingly held at
Washington during the first session of the Thirtieth Congress,
attended by a majority of the members from the slaveholding States,
to take into consideration the measures proper to be adopted. At one
of these meetings a sub-committee was appointed, of which Mr. Calhoun
was chairman, to prepare an address "of the Southern delegates to their
constituents." At a subsequent meeting a substitute for this address
was submitted by Mr. Berrien of Georgia, under the title of an address
"to the people of the United States." The original paper was,
however, adopted in preference, and received the signatures of
forty-eight of the members of Congress from the slaveholding States. Of
these all but two were of the Democratic party.[30]
These proceedings contributed materially to increase the discontents
existing at the South. Nor was the progress of excitement less rapid at
the North. The nomination of General Taylor by the Whig convention,
accompanied by the refusal of that convention to countenance the Wilmot
Proviso, led to the organization of the Free Soil party in the
non-slaveholding States. In the summer of 1848, a convention of
delegates of this party assembled at Buffalo in New York, at which an
antislavery platform was adopted, and Mr. Van Buren was nominated as a
candidate for the Presidency.
These occurrences and the state of feeling which they created, or
indicated, appeared to Mr. Webster to constitute a crisis in the
condition of the country of a most formidable description. Opinion
at the North and South had, in his judgment, either reached, or was
rapidly reaching, a point at which the coöperation of the two
sections of the country in carrying on the government as coequal
members of the Federal Union would cease to be practicable. The
constitutional opinions and the views on the subject of slavery set
forth in Mr. Calhoun's address he deemed to be such as could never be
acquiesced in by the non-slaveholding States. On the other hand, the
organization of a party on the basis of antislavery agitation at the
North appeared to him equally menacing to the Union. The professions
of attachment to the Union and the Constitution made on both sides,
and often, no doubt, in entire good faith, did but increase the
danger, by their tendency to produce misapprehension and self-deception
as to the really irreconcilable nature of the opposite extremes of
opinion.
It was his profound and anxious sense of the dangers of the Union, in
this crisis of affairs, which reconciled Mr. Webster to the nomination
of General Taylor. He saw in his position as a citizen of a Southern
State and a slaveholder the basis of support to his administration from
that quarter of the Union; while his connection with the Whig party, the
known moderation of his views, with his declared sentiments on the
subject of the Presidential veto, were a sufficient ground for the
confidence of the North. In fact, in the existing state of things, it
was soon apparent that there was no other candidate of either party so
well calculated to allay sectional differences, and guide the vessel of
state over the stormy sea of excitement and agitation.
But whatever reliance might justly have been placed upon the character
and disposition of General Taylor, the prospect of affairs was
sufficiently dark and inauspicious. Thoughtful persons looked forward to
a struggle on the territorial question, at the first session of the
Thirty-first Congress, which would convulse the country. In this state
of things the event which we have already alluded to took place, and
California presented herself for admission as a State, with a
constitution prohibiting slavery. As California was the only portion of
the Mexican territory in reference to which the question was of
practical importance, Mr. Webster derived from this unexpected and
seasonable occurrence a gleam of hope. It removed a topic of controversy
in reference to which it had seemed hopeless to propose any terms of
compromise; and it opened, as it were providentially, the door for an
understanding on other points, on the basis of carrying into execution
existing compacts and constitutional provisions on the one hand, and not
strenuously insisting, on the other hand, upon applying the antislavery
proviso where, as in Utah and New Mexico, he was persuaded it could be
of no practical importance.
On these principles, and with this object in view, Mr. Webster made his
great speech of the 7th of March, 1850.
It would be too much to expect, in reference to a subject of so much
difficulty, and one on which the public mind has been so greatly
excited, that a speech of this description should find universal favor
in any part of the country. It is believed, however, that by the
majority of patriotic and reflecting citizens in every part of the
United States, while on single topics there may be differences of
opinion, it has been regarded as holding out a practical basis for the
adjustment of controversies, which had already gone far to dissolve the
Union, and could not be much longer pursued without producing that
result. If those who have most strongly expressed their dissent from the
doctrines of the speech (we do not, of course, allude to the mere clamor
of political or personal enemies) will pause from the work of
denunciation, and make the attempt themselves to lay down _a practicable
platform_ on which this great controversy can in fact be settled, and
the union of the States perpetuated, they will not find it so hard to
censure what is done by others as to do better themselves. It is quite
easy to construct a Southern platform or a Northern platform; the
difficulty is to find a basis on which South and North will be able and
_willing_ to stand together. Of all those who have condemned the views
of Mr. Webster, who has gone further than he, in the speech of the 7th
of March, 1850, to furnish such a basis? Or rather, we may ask, who of
those that have been loudest in condemnation of his course has taken a
single step towards effecting this paramount object?
Mr. Webster's thoughts are known to have been earnestly and profoundly
employed on this subject from the commencement of the session. He saw
beforehand the difficulties and the dangers incident to the step which
he adopted, but he believed that, unless some such step was taken in the
North, the separation of the States was inevitable. The known state of
opinion of leading members of Congress led him to look for little
support from them. He opened the matter to some of his political
friends, but they did not encourage him in the course he felt bound to
pursue. He found that he could not expect the coöperation of the members
of Congress from his own State, nor that of many of the members from the
other Northern States. He gave up all attempt to rally beforehand a
party which would sustain him. His own description of his feelings at
the time was, "that he had made up his mind to embark alone on what he
was aware would prove a stormy sea, because, in that case, should final
disaster ensue, there would be but one life lost." But he believed that
the step which he was about to take would be sanctioned by the mass of
the people, and in that reliance he went forward.
While the compromise measures were still undecided before Congress,
about midsummer of 1850, President Taylor was removed from his high
office by death. In the reorganization of the executive occasioned by
this event, Mr. Webster, to the general satisfaction of the country, was
placed by President Fillmore at the head of the administration.
Subsequent events are too recent to need to be described. The
correspondence with the Austrian Chargé d'Affaires is the worthy
complement, after an interval of a quarter of a century, to the profound
discussion of international politics contained in the speech of January,
1824, on the revolution in Greece, and that of 1826, on the Congress of
Panama. We have before us a translation of this correspondence furtively
published in Germany, and circulated throughout the Austrian empire. The
fervid appeals to the patriotism of the people, with which Mr. Webster
has electrified the Union on various occasions during the last nine
months, have contributed materially to the great work of sectional
conciliation; and his last noble effort, on laying the corner-stone of
the Capitol, will be read with admiration as long as the Capitol itself
shall last.
* * * * *
Such, in a brief and imperfect narrative, is the public life of Mr.
Webster, extending over a period of forty years, marked by the
occurrence of events of great importance. It has been the aim of the
writer to prevent the pen of the biographer from being too much
influenced by the partiality of the friend. Should he seem to the
candid not wholly to have escaped that error, (which, however, he
trusts will not be the case,) he ventures to hope that it will be
forgiven to an intimacy which commenced in the youth of one of the
parties and the boyhood of the other, and which has subsisted for
nearly half a century. It will be admitted, he thinks, by every one,
that this career, however inadequately delineated, has been one of
singular eminence and brilliancy. Entering upon public life at the
close of the first epoch in the political history of the United
States under the present Constitution, Mr. Webster has stood below
none of the distinguished men who have impressed their character on the
second.
There is a class of public questions in reference to which the opinions
of most men are greatly influenced by prejudices founded in natural
temperament, early association, and real or supposed local interest. As
far as such questions are concerned, it is too much to hope that, in
times of high party excitement, full justice will be done to prominent
statesmen by those of their contemporaries who differ from them. We
greatly err, however, if candid men of all parties, and in all parts of
the country, do not accord to Mr. Webster the praise of having formed to
himself a large and generous view of the character of an American
statesman, and of having adopted the loftiest standard of public
conduct. They will agree that he has conceived, in all its importance,
the position of the country as a member of the great family of nations,
and as the leading republican government. In reference to domestic
politics it will be as generally conceded, that, reposing less than most
public men on a party basis, it has been the main object of his life to
confirm and perpetuate the great work of the constitutional fathers of
the last generation.
By their wisdom and patriotic forethought we are blessed with a system
in which the several States are brought into a union so admirably
composed and balanced,--both complicated and kept distinct with such
skill,--as to seem less a work of human prudence than of Providential
interposition.[31] Mr. Webster has at all times been fully aware of the
evils of anarchy, discord, and civil war at home, and of utter national
insignificance abroad, from which the formation of the Union saved us.
He has been not less sensible to the obstacles to be overcome the perils
to be encountered, and the sufferings to be borne, before this wonderful
framework of government could be established. And he has been firmly
persuaded that, if once destroyed, it can never be reconstructed. With
these views, his political life has been consecrated to the maintenance
in all their strength of the principles on which the Constitution
rests, and to the support of the system of government created by it.
The key to his whole political course is the belief that, when the Union
is dissolved, the internal peace, the vigorous growth, and the
prosperity of the States, and the welfare of their inhabitants, are
blighted for ever, and that, while the Union endures, all else of trial
and calamity which can befall a nation may be remedied or borne. So
believing, he has pursued a course which has earned for him an honored
name among those who have discharged the duty of good citizens with the
most distinguished ability, zeal, and benefit to the country. In the
relations of civilized life, there is no higher service which man can
render to man, than thus to preserve a wise constitution of government
in healthful action. Nor does the most eloquent of the statesmen of
antiquity content himself with pronouncing this the highest human merit.
In that admirable treatise on the Republic, of which some precious
chapters have been restored to us after having been lost for ages, he
does not hesitate to affirm, that there is nothing in which human virtue
approaches nearer the divine, than in establishing and preserving
states: "neque enim ulla res est, in qua propius ad deorum numen virtus
accedat humana, quam civitates aut condere novas aut conservare jam
conditas."[32]
FOOTNOTES
[30] In compiling this narrative much use has been made of the third
volume of the work entitled "The Statesman's Manual," a most
useful work of reference.
[31] This idea is beautifully expressed in the following passage of a
late letter from Mr. Webster, in reply to an invitation from the
citizens of Macon, Georgia:--
"The States are united, not consolidated;
'Not, chaos-like, together crashed and bruised,
But, like the world, harmoniously confused,
Where order in variety we see;
And where, though all things differ, all agree.'"
[32] M. Tulli Ciceronis de Re Publica quæ supersunt, edente Angelo
Maio. Lib. I. § 7.
FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
The first public anniversary celebration of the landing of the Pilgrims
at Plymouth took place under the auspices of the "Old Colony Club,"
of whose formation an account may be found in the interesting little
work of William S. Russell, Esq., entitled "Guide to Plymouth and
Recollections of the Pilgrims."
This club was formed for general purposes of social intercourse, in
1769; but its members determined, by a vote passed on Monday the 18th of
December of that year, "to keep" Friday, the 22d, in commemoration of
the landing of the fathers. A particular account of the simple
festivities of this first public celebration of the landing of the
Pilgrims will be found at page 220 of Mr. Russell's work.
The following year, the anniversary was celebrated much in the same
manner as in 1769, with the addition of a short address, pronounced
"with modest and decent firmness, by a member of the club, Edward
Winslow, Jr., Esq.," being the first address ever delivered on this
occasion.
In 1771, it was suggested by Rev. Chandler Robbins, pastor of the First
Church at Plymouth, in a letter addressed to the club, "whether it would
not be agreeable, for the entertainment and instruction of the rising
generation on these anniversaries, to have a sermon in public, some part
of the day, peculiarly adapted to the occasion." This recommendation
prevailed, and an appropriate discourse was delivered the following year
by the Rev. Dr. Robbins.
In 1773 the Old Colony Club was dissolved, in consequence of the
conflicting opinions of its members on the great political questions
then agitated. Notwithstanding this event, the anniversary celebrations
of the 22d of December continued without interruption till 1780, when
they were suspended. After an interval of fourteen years, a public
discourse was again delivered by the Rev. Dr. Robbins. Private
celebrations took place the four following years, and from that time
till the year 1819, with one or two exceptions, the day was annually
commemorated, and public addresses were delivered by distinguished
clergymen and laymen of Massachusetts.
In 1820 the "Pilgrim Society" was formed by the citizens of Plymouth and
the descendants of the Pilgrims in other places, desirous of uniting "to
commemorate the landing, and to honor the memory of the intrepid men who
first set foot on Plymouth rock." The foundation of this society gave a
new impulse to the anniversary celebrations of this great event. The
Hon. Daniel Webster was requested to deliver the public address on the
22d of December of that year, and the following discourse was pronounced
by him on the ever-memorable occasion. Great public expectation was
awakened by the fame of the orator; an immense concourse assembled at
Plymouth to unite in the celebration; and it may be safely anticipated,
that some portion of the powerful effect of the following address on the
minds of those who were so fortunate as to hear it, will be perpetuated
by the press to the latest posterity.
From 1820 to the present day, with occasional interruptions, the 22d of
December has been celebrated by the Pilgrim Society. A list of all those
by whom anniversary discourses have been delivered since the first
organization of the Old Colony Club, in 1769, may be found in Mr.
Russell's work.
Nor has the notice of the day been confined to New England. Public
celebrations of the landing of the Pilgrims have been frequent in other
parts of the country, particularly in New York. The New England Society
of that city has rarely permitted the day to pass without appropriate
honors. Similar societies have been formed at Philadelphia, Charleston,
S. C., and Cincinnati, and the day has been publicly commemorated in
several other parts of the country.
FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND.[33]
Let us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be thankful that we have
lived to see the bright and happy breaking of the auspicious morn, which
commences the third century of the history of New England. Auspicious,
indeed,--bringing a happiness beyond the common allotment of Providence
to men,--full of present joy, and gilding with bright beams the prospect
of futurity, is the dawn that awakens us to the commemoration of the
landing of the Pilgrims.
Living at an epoch which naturally marks the progress of the history of
our native land, we have come hither to celebrate the great event with
which that history commenced. For ever honored be this, the place of our
fathers' refuge! For ever remembered the day which saw them, weary and
distressed, broken in every thing but spirit, poor in all but faith and
courage, at last secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and impressing
this shore with the first footsteps of civilized man!
It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables us to connect our
thoughts, our sympathies, and our happiness with what is distant in
place or time; and, looking before and after, to hold communion at once
with our ancestors and our posterity. Human and mortal although we are,
we are nevertheless not mere insulated beings, without relation to the
past or the future. Neither the point of time, nor the spot of earth, in
which we physically live, bounds our rational and intellectual
enjoyments. We live in the past by a knowledge of its history; and in
the future by hope and anticipation. By ascending to an association with
our ancestors; by contemplating their example and studying their
character; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibing their spirit; by
accompanying them in their toils, by sympathizing in their sufferings,
and rejoicing in their successes and their triumphs; we seem to belong
to their age, and to mingle our own existence with theirs. We become
their contemporaries, live the lives which they lived, endure what they
endured, and partake in the rewards which they enjoyed. And in like
manner, by running along the line of future time, by contemplating the
probable fortunes of those who are coming after us, by attempting
something which may promote their happiness, and leave some not
dishonorable memorial of ourselves for their regard, when we shall sleep
with the fathers, we protract our own earthly being, and seem to crowd
whatever is future, as well as all that is past, into the narrow compass
of our earthly existence. As it is not a vain and false, but an exalted
and religious imagination, which leads us to raise our thoughts from the
orb, which, amidst this universe of worlds, the Creator has given us to
inhabit, and to send them with something of the feeling which nature
prompts, and teaches to be proper among children of the same Eternal
Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of fellow-beings, with which
his goodness has peopled the infinite of space; so neither is it false
or vain to consider ourselves as interested and connected with our whole
race, through all time; allied to our ancestors; allied to our
posterity; closely compacted on all sides with others; ourselves being
but links in the great chain of being, which begins with the origin of
our race, runs onward through its successive generations, binding
together the past, the present, and the future, and terminating at last,
with the consummation of all things earthly, at the throne of God.
There may be, and there often is, indeed, a regard for ancestry, which
nourishes only a weak pride; as there is also a care for posterity,
which only disguises an habitual avarice, or hides the workings of a low
and grovelling vanity. But there is also a moral and philosophical
respect for our ancestors, which elevates the character and improves the
heart. Next to the sense of religious duty and moral feeling, I hardly
know what should bear with stronger obligation on a liberal and
enlightened mind, than a consciousness of alliance with excellence which
is departed; and a consciousness, too, that in its acts and conduct,
and even in its sentiments and thoughts, it may be actively operating on
the happiness of those who come after it. Poetry is found to have few
stronger conceptions, by which it would affect or overwhelm the mind,
than those in which it presents the moving and speaking image of the
departed dead to the senses of the living. This belongs to poetry, only
because it is congenial to our nature. Poetry is, in this respect, but
the handmaid of true philosophy and morality; it deals with us as human
beings, naturally reverencing those whose visible connection with this
state of existence is severed, and who may yet exercise we know not what
sympathy with ourselves; and when it carries us forward, also, and shows
us the long continued result of all the good we do, in the prosperity of
those who follow us, till it bears us from ourselves, and absorbs us in
an intense interest for what shall happen to the generations after us,
it speaks only in the language of our nature, and affects us with
sentiments which belong to us as human beings.
Standing in this relation to our ancestors and our posterity, we are
assembled on this memorable spot, to perform the duties which that
relation and the present occasion impose upon us. We have come to this
Rock, to record here our homage for our Pilgrim Fathers; our sympathy in
their sufferings; our gratitude for their labors; our admiration of
their virtues; our veneration for their piety; and our attachment to
those principles of civil and religious liberty, which they encountered
the dangers of the ocean, the storms of heaven, the violence of savages,
disease, exile, and famine, to enjoy and to establish. And we would
leave here, also, for the generations which are rising up rapidly to
fill our places, some proof that we have endeavored to transmit the
great inheritance unimpaired; that in our estimate of public principles
and private virtue, in our veneration of religion and piety, in our
devotion to civil and religious liberty, in our regard for whatever
advances human knowledge or improves human happiness, we are not
altogether unworthy of our origin.
There is a local feeling connected with this occasion, too strong to be
resisted; a sort of _genius of the place_, which inspires and awes us.
We feel that we are on the spot where the first scene of our history was
laid; where the hearths and altars of New England were first placed;
where Christianity, and civilization, and letters made their first
lodgement in a vast extent of country, covered with a wilderness, and
peopled by roving barbarians. We are here, at the season of the year at
which the event took place. The imagination irresistibly and rapidly
draws around us the principal features and the leading characters in the
original scene. We cast our eyes abroad on the ocean, and we see where
the little bark, with the interesting group upon its deck, made its slow
progress to the shore. We look around us, and behold the hills and
promontories where the anxious eyes of our fathers first saw the places
of habitation and of rest. We feel the cold which benumbed, and listen
to the winds which pierced them. Beneath us is the Rock,[34] on which
New England received the feet of the Pilgrims. We seem even to behold
them, as they struggle with the elements, and, with toilsome efforts,
gain the shore. We listen to the chiefs in council; we see the
unexampled exhibition of female fortitude and resignation; we hear the
whisperings of youthful impatience, and we see, what a painter of our
own has also represented by his pencil,[35] chilled and shivering
childhood, houseless, but for a mother's arms, couchless, but for a
mother's breast, till our own blood almost freezes. The mild dignity of
CARVER and of BRADFORD; the decisive and soldierlike air and manner of
STANDISH; the devout BREWSTER; the enterprising ALLERTON;[36] the
general firmness and thoughtfulness of the whole band; their conscious
joy for dangers escaped; their deep solicitude about dangers to come;
their trust in Heaven; their high religious faith, full of confidence
and anticipation; all of these seem to belong to this place, and to be
present upon this occasion, to fill us with reverence and admiration.
The settlement of New England by the colony which landed here[37] on the
twenty-second[38] of December, sixteen hundred and twenty, although not
the first European establishment in what now constitutes the United
States, was yet so peculiar in its causes and character, and has been
followed and must still be followed by such consequences, as to give it
a high claim to lasting commemoration. On these causes and consequences,
more than on its immediately attendant circumstances, its importance, as
an historical event, depends. Great actions and striking occurrences,
having excited a temporary admiration, often pass away and are
forgotten, because they leave no lasting results, affecting the
prosperity and happiness of communities. Such is frequently the fortune
of the most brilliant military achievements. Of the ten thousand battles
which have been fought, of all the fields fertilized with carnage, of
the banners which have been bathed in blood, of the warriors who have
hoped that they had risen from the field of conquest to a glory as
bright and as durable as the stars, how few that continue long to
interest mankind! The victory of yesterday is reversed by the defeat of
to-day; the star of military glory, rising like a meteor, like a meteor
has fallen; disgrace and disaster hang on the heels of conquest and
renown; victor and vanquished presently pass away to oblivion, and the
world goes on in its course, with the loss only of so many lives and so
much treasure.
But if this be frequently, or generally, the fortune of military
achievements, it is not always so. There are enterprises, military as
well as civil, which sometimes check the current of events, give a new
turn to human affairs, and transmit their consequences through ages. We
see their importance in their results, and call them great, because
great things follow. There have been battles which have fixed the fate
of nations. These come down to us in history with a solid and permanent
interest, not created by a display of glittering armor, the rush of
adverse battalions, the sinking and rising of pennons, the flight, the
pursuit, and the victory; but by their effect in advancing or retarding
human knowledge, in overthrowing or establishing despotism, in extending
or destroying human happiness. When the traveller pauses on the plain of
Marathon, what are the emotions which most strongly agitate his breast?
What is that glorious recollection, which thrills through his frame, and
suffuses his eyes? Not, I imagine, that Grecian skill and Grecian valor
were here most signally displayed; but that Greece herself was saved. It
is because to this spot, and to the event which has rendered it
immortal, he refers all the succeeding glories of the republic. It is
because, if that day had gone otherwise, Greece had perished. It is
because he perceives that her philosophers and orators, her poets and
painters, her sculptors and architects, her governments and free
institutions, point backward to Marathon, and that their future
existence seems to have been suspended on the contingency, whether the
Persian or the Grecian banner should wave victorious in the beams of
that day's setting sun. And, as his imagination kindles at the
retrospect, he is transported back to the interesting moment; he counts
the fearful odds of the contending hosts; his interest for the result
overwhelms him; he trembles, as if it were still uncertain, and seems to
doubt whether he may consider Socrates and Plato, Demosthenes,
Sophocles, and Phidias, as secure, yet, to himself and to the world.
"If we conquer," said the Athenian commander on the approach of that
decisive day, "if we conquer, we shall make Athens the greatest city of
Greece."[39] A prophecy, how well fulfilled! "If God prosper us," might
have been the more appropriate language of our fathers, when they landed
upon this Rock, "if God prosper us, we shall here begin a work which
shall last for ages; we shall plant here a new society, in the
principles of the fullest liberty and the purest religion; we shall
subdue this wilderness which is before us; we shall fill this region of
the great continent, which stretches almost from pole to pole, with
civilization and Christianity; the temples of the true God shall rise,
where now ascends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice; fields and gardens,
the flowers of summer, and the waving and golden harvest of autumn,
shall spread over a thousand hills, and stretch along a thousand
valleys, never yet, since the creation, reclaimed to the use of
civilized man. We shall whiten this coast with the canvas of a
prosperous commerce; we shall stud the long and winding shore with a
hundred cities. That which we sow in weakness shall be raised in
strength. From our sincere, but houseless worship, there shall spring
splendid temples to record God's goodness; from the simplicity of our
social union, there shall arise wise and politic constitutions of
government, full of the liberty which we ourselves bring and breathe;
from our zeal for learning, institutions shall spring which shall
scatter the light of knowledge throughout the land, and, in time, paying
back where they have borrowed, shall contribute their part to the great
aggregate of human knowledge; and our descendants, through all
generations, shall look back to this spot, and to this hour, with
unabated affection and regard."
* * * * *
A brief remembrance of the causes which led to the settlement of
this place; some account of the peculiarities and characteristic
qualities of that settlement, as distinguished from other instances
of colonization; a short notice of the progress of New England in the
great interests of society, during the century which is now elapsed;
with a few observations on the principles upon which society and
government are established in this country; comprise all that can be
attempted, and much more than can be satisfactorily performed, on the
present occasion.
* * * * *
Of the motives which influenced the first settlers to a voluntary exile,
induced them to relinquish their native country, and to seek an asylum
in this then unexplored wilderness, the first and principal, no doubt,
were connected with religion. They sought to enjoy a higher degree of
religious freedom, and what they esteemed a purer form of religious
worship, than was allowed to their choice, or presented to their
imitation, in the Old World. The love of religious liberty is a stronger
sentiment, when fully excited, than an attachment to civil or political
freedom. That freedom which the conscience demands, and which men feel
bound by their hope of salvation to contend for, can hardly fail to be
attained. Conscience, in the cause of religion and the worship of the
Deity, prepares the mind to act and to suffer beyond almost all other
causes. It sometimes gives an impulse so irresistible, that no fetters
of power or of opinion can withstand it. History instructs us that this
love of religious liberty, a compound sentiment in the breast of man,
made up of the clearest sense of right and the highest conviction of
duty, is able to look the sternest despotism in the face, and, with
means apparently most inadequate, to shake principalities and powers.
There is a boldness, a spirit of daring, in religious reformers, not to
be measured by the general rules which control men's purposes and
actions. If the hand of power be laid upon it, this only seems to
augment its force and its elasticity, and to cause its action to be more
formidable and violent. Human invention has devised nothing, human power
has compassed nothing, that can forcibly restrain it, when it breaks
forth. Nothing can stop it, but to give way to it; nothing can check it,
but indulgence. It loses its power only when it has gained its object.
The principle of toleration, to which the world has come so slowly, is
at once the most just and the most wise of all principles. Even when
religious feeling takes a character of extravagance and enthusiasm, and
seems to threaten the order of society and shake the columns of the
social edifice, its principal danger is in its restraint. If it be
allowed indulgence and expansion, like the elemental fires, it only
agitates, and perhaps purifies, the atmosphere; while its efforts to
throw off restraint would burst the world asunder.
It is certain, that, although many of them were republicans in
principle, we have no evidence that our New England ancestors would have
emigrated, as they did, from their own native country, would have become
wanderers in Europe, and finally would have undertaken the establishment
of a colony here, merely from their dislike of the political systems of
Europe. They fled not so much from the civil government, as from the
hierarchy, and the laws which enforced conformity to the church
establishment. Mr. Robinson had left England as early as 1608, on
account of the persecutions for nonconformity, and had retired to
Holland. He left England, from no disappointed ambition in affairs of
state, from no regrets at the want of preferment in the church, nor from
any motive of distinction or of gain. Uniformity in matters of religion
was pressed with such extreme rigor, that a voluntary exile seemed the
most eligible mode of escaping from the penalties of noncompliance. The
accession of Elizabeth had, it is true, quenched the fires of
Smithfield, and put an end to the easy acquisition of the crown of
martyrdom. Her long reign had established the Reformation, but
toleration was a virtue beyond her conception, and beyond the age. She
left no example of it to her successor; and he was not of a character
which rendered it probable that a sentiment either so wise or so liberal
would originate with him. At the present period it seems incredible,
that the learned, accomplished, unassuming, and inoffensive Robinson
should neither be tolerated in his peaceable mode of worship in his own
country, nor suffered quietly to depart from it. Yet such was the fact.
He left his country by stealth, that he might elsewhere enjoy those
rights which ought to belong to men in all countries. The departure of
the Pilgrims for Holland is deeply interesting, from its circumstances,
and also as it marks the character of the times, independently of its
connection with names now incorporated with the history of empire. The
embarkation was intended to be made in such a manner, that it might
escape the notice of the officers of government. Great pains had been
taken to secure boats, which should come undiscovered to the shore, and
receive the fugitives; and frequent disappointments had been experienced
in this respect.
At length the appointed time came, bringing with it unusual severity of
cold and rain. An unfrequented and barren heath, on the shores of
Lincolnshire, was the selected spot, where the feet of the Pilgrims were
to tread, for the last time, the land of their fathers. The vessel which
was to receive them did not come until the next day, and in the mean
time the little band was collected, and men and women and children and
baggage were crowded together, in melancholy and distressed confusion.
The sea was rough, and the women and children were already sick, from
their passage down the river to the place of embarkation on the sea. At
length the wished-for boat silently and fearfully approaches the shore,
and men and women and children, shaking with fear and with cold, as many
as the small vessel could bear, venture off on a dangerous sea.
Immediately the advance of horses is heard from behind, armed men
appear, and those not yet embarked are seized, and taken into custody.
In the hurry of the moment, the first parties had been sent on board
without any attempt to keep members of the same family together, and on
account of the appearance of the horsemen, the boat never returned for
the residue. Those who had got away, and those who had not, were in
equal distress. A storm, of great violence, and long duration, arose at
sea, which not only protracted the voyage, rendered distressing by the
want of all those accommodations which the interruption of the
embarkation had occasioned, but also forced the vessel out of her
course, and menaced immediate shipwreck; while those on shore, when they
were dismissed from the custody of the officers of justice, having no
longer homes or houses to retire to, and their friends and protectors
being already gone, became objects of necessary charity, as well as of
deep commiseration.
As this scene passes before us, we can hardly forbear asking, whether
this be a band of malefactors and felons flying from justice. What are
their crimes, that they hide themselves in darkness? To what punishment
are they exposed, that, to avoid it, men, and women, and children, thus
encounter the surf of the North Sea, and the terrors of a night storm?
What induces this armed pursuit, and this arrest of fugitives, of all
ages and both sexes? Truth does not allow us to answer these inquiries
in a manner that does credit to the wisdom or the justice of the times.
This was not the flight of guilt, but of virtue. It was an humble and
peaceable religion, flying from causeless oppression. It was conscience,
attempting to escape from the arbitrary rule of the Stuarts. It was
Robinson and Brewster, leading off their little band from their native
soil, at first to find shelter on the shore of the neighboring
continent, but ultimately to come hither; and having surmounted all
difficulties and braved a thousand dangers, to find here a place of
refuge and of rest. Thanks be to God, that this spot was honored as the
asylum of religious liberty! May its standard, reared here, remain for
ever! May it rise up as high as heaven, till its banner shall fan the
air of both continents, and wave as a glorious ensign of peace and
security to the nations!
* * * * *
The peculiar character, condition, and circumstances of the colonies
which introduced civilization and an English race into New England,
afford a most interesting and extensive topic of discussion. On these,
much of our subsequent character and fortune has depended. Their
influence has essentially affected our whole history, through the two
centuries which have elapsed; and as they have become intimately
connected with government, laws, and property, as well as with our
opinions on the subjects of religion and civil liberty, that influence
is likely to continue to be felt through the centuries which shall
succeed. Emigration from one region to another, and the emission of
colonies to people countries more or less distant from the residence of
the parent stock, are common incidents in the history of mankind; but it
has not often, perhaps never, happened, that the establishment of
colonies should be attempted under circumstances, however beset with
present difficulties and dangers, yet so favorable to ultimate success,
and so conducive to magnificent results, as those which attended the
first settlements on this part of the American continent. In other
instances, emigration has proceeded from a less exalted purpose, in
periods of less general intelligence, or more without plan and by
accident; or under circumstances, physical and moral, less favorable to
the expectation of laying a foundation for great public prosperity and
future empire.
A great resemblance exists, obviously, between all the English colonies
established within the present limits of the United States; but the
occasion attracts our attention more immediately to those which took
possession of New England, and the peculiarities of these furnish a
strong contrast with most other instances of colonization.
Among the ancient nations, the Greeks, no doubt, sent forth from their
territories the greatest number of colonies. So numerous, indeed, were
they, and so great the extent of space over which they were spread, that
the parent country fondly and naturally persuaded herself, that by means
of them she had laid a sure foundation for the universal civilization of
the world. These establishments, from obvious causes, were most numerous
in places most contiguous; yet they were found on the coasts of France,
on the shores of the Euxine Sea, in Africa, and even, as is alleged, on
the borders of India. These emigrations appear to have been sometimes
voluntary and sometimes compulsory; arising from the spontaneous
enterprise of individuals, or the order and regulation of government. It
was a common opinion with ancient writers, that they were undertaken in
religious obedience to the commands of oracles, and it is probable that
impressions of this sort might have had more or less influence; but it
is probable, also, that on these occasions the oracles did not speak a
language dissonant from the views and purposes of the state.
Political science among the Greeks seems never to have extended to the
comprehension of a system, which should be adequate to the government of
a great nation upon principles of liberty. They were accustomed only to
the contemplation of small republics, and were led to consider an
augmented population as incompatible with free institutions. The desire
of a remedy for this supposed evil, and the wish to establish marts for
trade, led the governments often to undertake the establishment of
colonies as an affair of state expediency. Colonization and commerce,
indeed, would naturally become objects of interest to an ingenious and
enterprising people, inhabiting a territory closely circumscribed in its
limits, and in no small part mountainous and sterile; while the islands
of the adjacent seas, and the promontories and coasts of the neighboring
continents, by their mere proximity, strongly solicited the excited
spirit of emigration. Such was this proximity, in many instances, that
the new settlements appeared rather to be the mere extension of
population over contiguous territory, than the establishment of distant
colonies. In proportion as they were near to the parent state, they
would be under its authority, and partake of its fortunes. The colony at
Marseilles might perceive lightly, or not at all, the sway of Phocis;
while the islands in the Ægean Sea could hardly attain to independence
of their Athenian origin. Many of these establishments took place at an
early age; and if there were defects in the governments of the parent
states, the colonists did not possess philosophy or experience
sufficient to correct such evils in their own institutions, even if they
had not been, by other causes, deprived of the power. An immediate
necessity, connected with the support of life, was the main and direct
inducement to these undertakings, and there could hardly exist more than
the hope of a successful imitation of institutions with which they were
already acquainted, and of holding an equality with their neighbors in
the course of improvement. The laws and customs, both political and
municipal, as well as the religious worship of the parent city, were
transferred to the colony; and the parent city herself, with all such of
her colonies as were not too far remote for frequent intercourse and
common sentiments, would appear like a family of cities, more or less
dependent, and more or less connected. We know how imperfect this system
was, as a system of general politics, and what scope it gave to those
mutual dissensions and conflicts which proved so fatal to Greece.
But it is more pertinent to our present purpose to observe, that nothing
existed in the character of Grecian emigrations, or in the spirit and
intelligence of the emigrants, likely to give a new and important
direction to human affairs, or a new impulse to the human mind. Their
motives were not high enough, their views were not sufficiently large
and prospective. They went not forth, like our ancestors, to erect
systems of more perfect civil liberty, or to enjoy a higher degree of
religious freedom. Above all, there was nothing in the religion and
learning of the age, that could either inspire high purposes, or give
the ability to execute them. Whatever restraints on civil liberty, or
whatever abuses in religious worship, existed at the time of our
fathers' emigration, yet even then all was light in the moral and mental
world, in comparison with its condition in most periods of the ancient
states. The settlement of a new continent, in an age of progressive
knowledge and improvement, could not but do more than merely enlarge the
natural boundaries of the habitable world. It could not but do much more
even than extend commerce and increase wealth among the human race. We
see how this event has acted, how it must have acted, and wonder only
why it did not act sooner, in the production of moral effects, on the
state of human knowledge, the general tone of human sentiments, and the
prospects of human happiness. It gave to civilized man not only a new
continent to be inhabited and cultivated, and new seas to be explored;
but it gave him also a new range for his thoughts, new objects for
curiosity, and new excitements to knowledge and improvement.
Roman colonization resembled, far less than that of the Greeks, the
original settlements of this country. Power and dominion were the
objects of Rome, even in her colonial establishments. Her whole exterior
aspect was for centuries hostile and terrific She grasped at dominion,
from India to Britain, and her measures of colonization partook of the
character of her general system. Her policy was military, because
her objects were power, ascendency, and subjugation. Detachments of
emigrants from Rome incorporated themselves with, and governed, the
original inhabitants of conquered countries. She sent citizens where
she had first sent soldiers; her law followed her sword. Her colonies
were a sort of military establishment; so many advanced posts in the
career of her dominion. A governor from Rome ruled the new colony with
absolute sway, and often with unbounded rapacity. In Sicily, in Gaul,
in Spain, and in Asia, the power of Rome prevailed, not nominally
only, but really and effectually. Those who immediately exercised it
were Roman; the tone and tendency of its administration, Roman. Rome
herself continued to be the heart and centre of the great system which
she had established. Extortion and rapacity, finding a wide and often
rich field of action in the provinces, looked nevertheless to the
banks of the Tiber, as the scene in which their ill-gotten treasures
should be displayed; or, if a spirit of more honest acquisition
prevailed, the object, nevertheless, was ultimate enjoyment in Rome
itself. If our own history and our own times did not sufficiently
expose the inherent and incurable evils of provincial government, we
might see them portrayed, to our amazement, in the desolated and
ruined provinces of the Roman empire. We might hear them, in a voice
that terrifies us, in those strains of complaint and accusation,
which the advocates of the provinces poured forth in the Roman
Forum:--"Quas res luxuries in flagitiis, crudelitas in suppliciis,
avaritia in rapinis, superbia in contumeliis, efficere potuisset, eas
omnes sese pertulisse."
As was to be expected, the Roman Provinces partook of the fortunes,
as well as of the sentiments and general character, of the seat of
empire. They lived together with her, they flourished with her, and fell
with her. The branches were lopped away even before the vast and
venerable trunk itself fell prostrate to the earth. Nothing had
proceeded from her which could support itself; and bear up the name
of its origin, when her own sustaining arm should be enfeebled or
withdrawn. It was not given to Rome to see, either at her zenith or
in her decline, a child of her own, distant, indeed, and independent of
her control, yet speaking her language and inheriting her blood,
springing forward to a competition with her own power, and a comparison
with her own great renown. She saw not a vast region of the earth
peopled from her stock, full of states and political communities,
improving upon the models of her institutions, and breathing in fuller
measure the spirit which she had breathed in the best periods of her
existence; enjoying and extending her arts and her literature;
rising rapidly from political childhood to manly strength and
independence; her offspring, yet now her equal; unconnected with the
causes which might affect the duration of her own power and greatness;
of common origin, but not linked to a common fate; giving ample
pledge, that her name should not be forgotten, that her language
should not cease to be used among men; that whatsoever she had done
for human knowledge and human happiness should be treasured up and
preserved; that the record of her existence and her achievements
should not be obscured, although, in the inscrutable purposes of
Providence, it might be her destiny to fall from opulence and
splendor; although the time might come, when darkness should settle
on all her hills; when foreign or domestic violence should overturn
her altars and her temples; when ignorance and despotism should fill
the places where Laws, and Arts, and Liberty had flourished; when the
feet of barbarism should trample on the tombs of her consuls, and the
walls of her senate-house and forum echo only to the voice of savage
triumph. She saw not this glorious vision, to inspire and fortify her
against the possible decay or downfall of her power. Happy are they
who in our day may behold it, if they shall contemplate it with the
sentiments which it ought to inspire!
The New England Colonies differ quite as widely from the Asiatic
establishments of the modern European nations, as from the models of the
ancient states. The sole object of those establishments was originally
trade; although we have seen, in one of them, the anomaly of a mere
trading company attaining a political character, disbursing revenues,
and maintaining armies and fortresses, until it has extended its control
over seventy millions of people. Differing from these, and still more
from the New England and North American Colonies, are the European
settlements in the West India Islands. It is not strange, that, when
men's minds were turned to the settlement of America, different objects
should be proposed by those who emigrated to the different regions of so
vast a country. Climate, soil, and condition were not all equally
favorable to all pursuits. In the West Indies, the purpose of those who
went thither was to engage in that species of agriculture, suited to the
soil and climate, which seems to bear more resemblance to commerce, than
to the hard and plain tillage of New England. The great staples of these
countries, being partly an agricultural and partly a manufactured
product, and not being of the necessaries of life, become the object of
calculation, with respect to a profitable investment of capital, like
any other enterprise of trade or manufacture. The more especially, as,
requiring, by necessity or habit, slave labor for their production, the
capital necessary to carry on the work of this production is very
considerable. The West Indies are resorted to, therefore, rather for the
investment of capital, than for the purpose of sustaining life by
personal labor. Such as possess a considerable amount of capital, or
such as choose to adventure in commercial speculations without capital,
can alone be fitted to be emigrants to the islands. The agriculture of
these regions, as before observed, is a sort of commerce; and it is a
species of employment in which labor seems to form as inconsiderable
ingredient in the productive causes, since the portion of white labor is
exceedingly small, and slave labor is rather more like profit on stock
or capital, than _labor_ properly so called. The individual who
undertakes an establishment of this kind takes into the account the cost
of the necessary number of slaves, in the same manner as he calculates
the cost of the land. The uncertainty, too, of this species of
employment, affords another ground of resemblance to commerce. Although
gainful on the whole, and in a series of years, it is often very
disastrous for a single year, and, as the capital is not readily
invested in other pursuits, bad crops or bad markets not only affect the
profits, but the capital itself. Hence the sudden depressions which take
place in the value of such estates.
But the great and leading observation, relative to these establishments,
remains to be made. It is, that the owners of the soil and of the
capital seldom consider themselves _at home_ in the colony. A very great
portion of the soil itself is usually owned in the mother country; a
still greater is mortgaged for capital obtained there; and, in general,
those who are to derive an interest from the products look to the parent
country as the place for enjoyment of their wealth. The population is
therefore constantly fluctuating. Nobody comes but to return. A constant
succession of owners, agents, and factors takes place. Whatsoever the
soil, forced by the unmitigated toil of slavery, can yield, is sent home
to defray rents, and interest, and agencies, or to give the means of
living in a better society. In such a state, it is evident that no
spirit of permanent improvement is likely to spring up. Profits will not
be invested with a distant view of benefiting posterity. Roads and
canals will hardly be built; schools will not be founded; colleges will
not be endowed. There will be few fixtures in society; no principles of
utility or of elegance, planted now, with the hope of being developed
and expanded hereafter. Profit, immediate profit, must be the principal
active spring in the social system. There may be many particular
exceptions to these general remarks, but the outline of the whole is
such as is here drawn.
Another most important consequence of such a state of things is, that no
idea of independence of the parent country is likely to arise; unless,
indeed, it should spring up in a form that would threaten universal
desolation. The inhabitants have no strong attachment to the place which
they inhabit. The hope of a great portion of them is to leave it; and
their great desire, to leave it soon. However useful they may be to the
parent state, how much soever they may add to the conveniences and
luxuries of life, these colonies are not favored spots for the expansion
of the human mind, for the progress of permanent improvement, or for
sowing the seeds of future independent empire.
Different, indeed, most widely different, from all these instances of
emigration and plantation, were the condition, the purposes, and the
prospects of our fathers, when they established their infant colony upon
this spot. They came hither to a land from which they were never to
return. Hither they had brought, and here they were to fix, their hopes,
their attachments, and their objects in life. Some natural tears they
shed, as they left the pleasant abodes of their fathers, and some
emotions they suppressed, when the white cliffs of their native country,
now seen for the last time, grew dim to their sight. They were acting,
however, upon a resolution not to be daunted. With whatever stifled
regrets, with whatever occasional hesitation, with whatever appalling
apprehensions, which might sometimes arise with force to shake the
firmest purpose, they had yet committed themselves to Heaven and the
elements; and a thousand leagues of water soon interposed to separate
them for ever from the region which gave them birth. A new existence
awaited them here; and when they saw these shores, rough, cold,
barbarous, and barren, as then they were, they beheld their country.
That mixed and strong feeling, which we call love of country, and which
is, in general, never extinguished in the heart of man, grasped and
embraced its proper object here. Whatever constitutes _country_, except
the earth and the sun, all the moral causes of affection and attachment
which operate upon the heart, they had brought with them to their new
abode. Here were now their families and friends, their homes, and their
property. Before they reached the shore, they had established the
elements of a social system,[40] and at a much earlier period had
settled their forms of religions worship. At the moment of their
landing, therefore, they possessed institutions of government, and
institutions of religion: and friends and families, and social and
religious institutions, framed by consent, founded on choice and
preference, how nearly do these fill up our whole idea of country! The
morning that beamed on the first night of their repose saw the Pilgrims
already _at home_ in their country. There were political institutions,
and civil liberty, and religious worship. Poetry has fancied nothing, in
the wanderings of heroes, so distinct and characteristic. Here was man,
indeed, unprotected, and unprovided for, on the shore of a rude and
fearful wilderness; but it was politic, intelligent, and educated man.
Every thing was civilized but the physical world. Institutions,
containing in substance all that ages had done for human government,
were organized in a forest Cultivated mind was to act on uncultivated
nature; and, more than all, a government and a country were to commence,
with the very first foundations laid under the divine light of the
Christian religion. Happy auspices of a happy futurity! Who would wish
that his country's existence had otherwise begun? Who would desire the
power of going back to the ages of fable? Who would wish for an origin
obscured in the darkness of antiquity? Who would wish for other
emblazoning of his country's heraldry, or other ornaments of her
genealogy, than to be able to say, that her first existence was with
intelligence, her first breath the inspiration of liberty, her first
principle the truth of divine religion?
Local attachments and sympathies would ere long spring up in the breasts
of our ancestors, endearing to them the place of their refuge. Whatever
natural objects are associated with interesting scenes and high efforts
obtain a hold on human feeling, and demand from the heart a sort of
recognition and regard. This Rock soon became hallowed in the esteem of
the Pilgrims,[41] and these hills grateful to their sight. Neither they
nor their children were again to till the soil of England, nor again to
traverse the seas which surround her.[42] But here was a new sea, now
open to their enterprise, and a new soil, which had not failed to
respond gratefully to their laborious industry, and which was already
assuming a robe of verdure. Hardly had they provided shelter for the
living, ere they were summoned to erect sepulchres for the dead. The
ground had become sacred, by inclosing the remains of some of their
companions and connections. A parent, a child, a husband, or a wife, had
gone the way of all flesh, and mingled with the dust of New England. We
naturally look with strong emotions to the spot, though it be a
wilderness, where the ashes of those we have loved repose. Where the
heart has laid down what it loved most, there it is desirous of laying
itself down. No sculptured marble, no enduring monument, no honorable
inscription, no ever-burning taper that would drive away the darkness of
the tomb, can soften our sense of the reality of death, and hallow to
our feelings the ground which is to cover us, like the consciousness
that we shall sleep, dust to dust, with the objects of our affections.
In a short time other causes sprung up to bind the Pilgrims with new
cords to their chosen land. Children were born, and the hopes of future
generations arose, in the spot of their new habitation. The second
generation found this the land of their nativity, and saw that they were
bound to its fortunes. They beheld their fathers' graves around them,
and while they read the memorials of their toils and labors, they
rejoiced in the inheritance which they found bequeathed to them.
Under the influence of these causes, it was to be expected, that an
interest and a feeling should arise here, entirely different from the
interest and feeling of mere Englishmen; and all the subsequent history
of the Colonies proves this to have actually and gradually taken place.
With a general acknowledgment of the supremacy of the British crown,
there was, from the first a repugnance to an entire submission to the
control of British legislation. The Colonies stood upon their charters,
which, as they contended, exempted them from the ordinary power of the
British Parliament, and authorized them to conduct their own concerns by
their own counsels. They utterly resisted the notion that they were to
be ruled by the mere authority of the government at home, and would not
endure even that their own charter governments should be established on
the other side of the Atlantic. It was not a controlling or protecting
board in England, but a government of their own, and existing
immediately within their limits, which could satisfy their wishes. It
was easy to foresee, what we know also to have happened, that the first
great cause of collision and jealousy would be, under the notion of
political economy then and still prevalent in Europe, an attempt on the
part of the mother country to monopolize the trade of the Colonies.
Whoever has looked deeply into the causes which produced our Revolution
has found, if I mistake not, the original principle far back in this
claim, on the part of England, to monopolize our trade, and a continued
effort on the part of the Colonies to resist or evade that monopoly; if,
indeed, it be not still more just and philosophical to go farther back,
and to consider it decided, that an independent government must arise
here, the moment it was ascertained that an English colony, such as
landed in this place, could sustain itself against the dangers which
surrounded it, and, with other similar establishments, overspread the
land with an English population. Accidental causes retarded at times,
and at times accelerated, the progress of the controversy. The Colonies
wanted strength, and time gave it to them. They required measures of
strong and palpable injustice, on the part of the mother country, to
justify resistance; the early part of the late king's reign furnished
them. They needed spirits of high order, of great daring, of long
foresight, and of commanding power, to seize the favoring occasion to
strike a blow, which should sever, for all time, the tic of colonial
dependence; and these spirits were found, in all the extent which that
or any crisis could demand, in Otis, Adams, Hancock, and the other
immediate authors of our independence.
Still, it is true that, for a century, causes had been in operation
tending to prepare things for this great result. In the year 1660 the
English Act of Navigation was passed; the first and grand object of
which seems to have been, to secure to England the whole trade with her
plantations.[43] It was provided by that act, that none but English
ships should transport American produce over the ocean, and that the
principal articles of that produce should be allowed to be sold only in
the markets of the mother country. Three years afterwards another law
was passed, which enacted, that such commodities as the Colonies might
wish to purchase should be bought only in the markets of the mother
country. Severe rules were prescribed to enforce the provisions of these
laws, and heavy penalties imposed on all who should violate them. In the
subsequent years of the same reign, other statutes were enacted to
reënforce these statutes, and other rules prescribed to secure a
compliance with these rules. In this manner was the trade to and from
the Colonies restricted, almost to the exclusive advantage of the parent
country. But laws, which rendered the interest of a whole people
subordinate to that of another people, were not likely to execute
themselves; nor was it easy to find many on the spot, who could be
depended upon for carrying them into execution. In fact, these laws were
more or less evaded or resisted, in all the Colonies. To enforce them
was the constant endeavor of the government at home; to prevent or elude
their operation, the perpetual object here. "The laws of navigation,"
says a living British writer, "were nowhere so openly disobeyed and
contemned as in New England." "The people of Massachusetts Bay," he
adds, "were from the first disposed to act as if independent of the
mother country, and having a governor and magistrates of their own
choice, it was difficult to enforce any regulation which came from the
English Parliament, adverse to their interests." To provide more
effectually for the execution of these laws, we know that courts of
admiralty were afterwards established by the crown, with power to try
revenue causes, as questions of admiralty, upon the construction given
by the crown lawyers to an act of Parliament; a great departure from the
ordinary principles of English jurisprudence, but which has been
maintained, nevertheless, by the force of habit and precedent, and is
adopted in our own existing systems of government.
"There lie," says another English writer, whose connection with the
Board of Trade has enabled him to ascertain many facts connected with
Colonial history, "There lie among the documents in the board of trade
and state-paper office, the most satisfactory proofs, from the epoch of
the English Revolution in 1688, throughout every reign, and during every
administration, of the settled purpose of the Colonies to acquire direct
independence and positive sovereignty." Perhaps this may be stated
somewhat too strongly; but it cannot be denied, that, from the very
nature of the establishments here, and from the general character of the
measures respecting their concerns early adopted and steadily pursued by
the English government, a division of the empire was the natural and
necessary result to which every thing tended.[44]
I have dwelt on this topic, because it seems to me, that the peculiar
original character of the New England Colonies, and certain causes
coeval with their existence, have had a strong and decided influence on
all their subsequent history, and especially on the great event of the
Revolution. Whoever would write our history, and would understand and
explain early transactions, should comprehend the nature and force of
the feeling which I have endeavored to describe. As a son, leaving the
house of his father for his own, finds, by the order of nature, and the
very law of his being, nearer and dearer objects around which his
affections circle, while his attachment to the parental roof becomes
moderated, by degrees, to a composed regard and an affectionate
remembrance; so our ancestors, leaving their native land, not without
some violence to the feelings of nature and affection, yet, in time,
found here a new circle of engagements, interests, and affections; a
feeling, which more and more encroached upon the old, till an undivided
sentiment, _that this was their country_, occupied the heart; and
patriotism, shutting out from its embraces the parent realm, became
_local_ to America.
* * * * *
Some retrospect of the century which has now elapsed is among the
duties of the occasion. It must, however, necessarily be imperfect, to
be compressed within the limits of a single discourse. I shall content
myself; therefore, with taking notice of a few of the leading and most
important occurrences which have distinguished the period.
When the first century closed, the progress of the country appeared to
have been considerable; notwithstanding that, in comparison with its
subsequent advancement, it now seems otherwise. A broad and lasting
foundation had been laid; excellent institutions had been established;
many of the prejudices of former times had been removed; a more liberal
and catholic spirit on subjects of religious concern had begun to extend
itself; and many things conspired to give promise of increasing future
prosperity. Great men had arisen in public life, and the liberal
professions. The Mathers, father and son, were then sinking low in the
western horizon; Leverett, the learned, the accomplished, the excellent
Leverett, was about to withdraw his brilliant and useful light. In
Pemberton great hopes had been suddenly extinguished, but Prince and
Colman were in our sky; and along the east had began to flash the
crepuscular light of a great luminary which was about to appear, and
which was to stamp the age with his own name, as the age of Franklin.
The bloody Indian wars, which harassed the people for a part of the
first century; the restrictions on the trade of the Colonies, added to
the discouragements inherently belonging to all forms of colonial
government; the distance from Europe, and the small hope of immediate
profit to adventurers, are among the causes which had contributed to
retard the progress of population. Perhaps it may be added, also, that
during the period of the civil wars in England, and the reign of
Cromwell, many persons, whose religious opinions and religious temper
might, under other circumstances, have induced them to join the New
England colonists, found reasons to remain in England; either on account
of active occupation in the scenes which were passing, or of an
anticipation of the enjoyment, in their own country, of a form of
government, civil and religious, accommodated to their views and
principles. The violent measures, too, pursued against the Colonies in
the reign of Charles the Second, the mockery of a trial, and the
forfeiture of the charters, were serious evils. And during the open
violences of the short reign of James the Second, and the tyranny of
Andros, as the venerable historian of Connecticut observes, "All the
motives to great actions, to industry, economy, enterprise, wealth, and
population, were in a manner annihilated. A general inactivity and
languishment pervaded the public body. Liberty, property, and every
thing which ought to be dear to men, every day grew more and more
insecure."
With the Revolution in England, a better prospect had opened on this
country, as well as on that. The joy had been as great at that event,
and far more universal, in New than in Old England. A new charter had
been granted to Massachusetts, which, although it did not confirm to her
inhabitants all their former privileges, yet relieved them from great
evils and embarrassments, and promised future security. More than all,
perhaps, the Revolution in England had done good to the general cause of
liberty and justice. A blow had been struck in favor of the rights and
liberties, not of England alone, but of descendants and kinsmen of
England all over the world. Great political truths had been established.
The champions of liberty had been successful in a fearful and perilous
conflict. Somers, and Cavendish, and Jekyl, and Howard, had triumphed in
one of the most noble causes ever undertaken by men. A revolution had
been made upon principle. A monarch had been dethroned for violating the
original compact between king and people. The rights of the people to
partake in the government, and to limit the monarch by fundamental rules
of government, had been maintained; and however unjust the government of
England might afterwards be towards other governments or towards her
colonies, she had ceased to be governed herself by the arbitrary maxims
of the Stuarts.
New England had submitted to the violence of James the Second not longer
than Old England. Not only was it reserved to Massachusetts, that on her
soil should be acted the first scene of that great revolutionary drama,
which was to take place near a century afterwards, but the English
Revolution itself, as far as the Colonies were concerned, commenced in
Boston. The seizure and imprisonment of Andros, in April, 1689, were
acts of direct and forcible resistance to the authority of James the
Second. The pulse of liberty beat as high in the extremities as at the
heart. The vigorous feeling of the Colony burst out before it was known
how the parent country would finally conduct herself. The king's
representative, Sir Edmund Andros, was a prisoner in the castle at
Boston, before it was or could be known that the king himself had ceased
to exercise his full dominion on the English throne.
Before it was known here whether the invasion of the Prince of Orange
would or could prove successful, as soon as it was known that it had
been undertaken, the people of Massachusetts, at the imminent hazard of
their lives and fortunes, had accomplished the Revolution as far as
respected themselves. It is probable that, reasoning on general
principles and the known attachment of the English people to their
constitution and liberties, and their deep and fixed dislike of the
king's religion and politics, the people of New England expected a
catastrophe fatal to the power of the reigning prince. Yet it was
neither certain enough, nor near enough, to come to their aid against
the authority of the crown, in that crisis which had arrived, and in
which they trusted to put themselves, relying on God and their own
courage. There were spirits in Massachusetts congenial with the spirits
of the distinguished friends of the Revolution in England. There were
those who were fit to associate with the boldest asserters of civil
liberty; and Mather himself, then in England, was not unworthy to be
ranked with those sons of the Church, whose firmness and spirit in
resisting kingly encroachments in matters of religion, entitled them to
the gratitude of their own and succeeding ages.
The second century opened upon New England under circumstances which
evinced that much had already been accomplished, and that still better
prospects and brighter hopes were before her. She had laid, deep and
strong, the foundations of her society. Her religious principles were
firm, and her moral habits exemplary. Her public schools had began to
diffuse widely the elements of knowledge; and the College, under the
excellent and acceptable administration of Leverett, had been raised to
a high degree of credit and usefulness.
The commercial character of the country, notwithstanding all
discouragements, had begun to display itself, and _five hundred
vessels_, then belonging to Massachusetts, placed her, in relation to
commerce, thus early at the head of the Colonies. An author who wrote
very near the close of the first century says:--"New England is almost
deserving that _noble name_, so mightily hath it increased; and from a
small settlement at first, is now become a _very populous_ and
_flourishing_ government. The _capital city_, Boston, is a place of
_great wealth and trade_; and by much the largest of any in the English
empire of America; and not exceeded but by few cities, perhaps two or
three, in all the American world."
But if our ancestors at the close of the first century could look back
with joy, and even admiration, at the progress of the country, what
emotions must we not feel, when, from the point on which we stand, we
also look back and run along the events of the century which has now
closed! The country which then, as we have seen, was thought deserving
of a "noble name,"--which then had "mightily increased," and become
"very populous,"--what was it, in comparison with what our eyes behold
it? At that period, a very great proportion of its inhabitants lived in
the eastern section of Massachusetts proper, and in Plymouth Colony. In
Connecticut, there were towns along the coast, some of them respectable,
but in the interior all was a wilderness beyond Hartford. On Connecticut
River, settlements had proceeded as far up as Deerfield, and Fort Dummer
had been built near where is now the south line of New Hampshire. In New
Hampshire no settlement was then begun thirty miles from the mouth of
Piscataqua River, and in what is now Maine, the inhabitants were
confined to the coast. The aggregate of the whole population of New
England did not exceed one hundred and sixty thousand. Its present
amount (1820) is probably one million seven hundred thousand. Instead of
being confined to its former limits, her population has rolled backward,
and filled up the spaces included within her actual local boundaries.
Not this only, but it has overflowed those boundaries, and the waves of
emigration have pressed farther and farther toward the West. The
Alleghany has not checked it; the banks of the Ohio have been covered
with it. New England farms, houses, villages, and churches spread over
and adorn the immense extent from the Ohio to Lake Erie, and stretch
along from the Alleghany onwards, beyond the Miamis, and toward the
Falls of St. Anthony. Two thousand miles westward from the rock where
their fathers landed, may now be found the sons of the Pilgrims,
cultivating smiling fields, rearing towns and villages, and cherishing,
we trust, the patrimonial blessings of wise institutions, of liberty,
and religion. The world has seen nothing like this. Regions large enough
to be empires, and which, half a century ago, were known only as remote
and unexplored wildernesses, are now teeming with population, and
prosperous in all the great concerns of life; in good governments, the
means of subsistence, and social happiness. It may be safely asserted,
that there are now more than a million of people, descendants of New
England ancestry, living, free and happy, in regions which scarce sixty
years ago were tracts of unpenetrated forest. Nor do rivers, or
mountains, or seas resist the progress of industry and enterprise. Ere
long, the sons of the Pilgrims will be on the shores of the Pacific.[45]
The imagination hardly keeps pace with the progress of population,
improvement, and civilization.
It is now five-and-forty years since the growth and rising glory of
America were portrayed in the English Parliament, with inimitable
beauty, by the most consummate orator of modern times. Going back
somewhat more than half a century, and describing our progress as
foreseen from that point by his amiable friend Lord Bathurst, then
living, he spoke of the wonderful progress which America had made during
the period of a single human life. There is no American heart, I
imagine, that does not glow, both with conscious, patriotic pride, and
admiration for one of the happiest efforts of eloquence, so often as the
vision of "that little speck, scarce visible in the mass of national
interest, a small seminal principle, rather than a formed body," and the
progress of its astonishing development and growth, are recalled to the
recollection. But a stronger feeling might be produced, if we were able
to take up this prophetic description where he left it, and, placing
ourselves at the point of time in which he was speaking, to set forth
with equal felicity the subsequent progress of the country. There is yet
among the living a most distinguished and venerable name, a descendant
of the Pilgrims; one who has been attended through life by a great and
fortunate genius; a man illustrious by his own great merits, and favored
of Heaven in the long continuation of his years.[46] The time when the
English orator was thus speaking of America preceded but by a few days
the actual opening of the revolutionary drama at Lexington. He to whom I
have alluded, then at the age of forty, was among the most zealous and
able defenders of the violated rights of his country. He seemed already
to have filled a full measure of public service, and attained an
honorable fame. The moment was full of difficulty and danger, and big
with events of immeasurable importance. The country was on the very
brink of a civil war, of which no man could foretell the duration or the
result. Something more than a courageous hope, or characteristic ardor,
would have been necessary to impress the glorious prospect on his
belief, if, at that moment, before the sound of the first shock of
actual war had reached his ears, some attendant spirit had opened to him
the vision of the future;--if it had said to him, "The blow is struck,
and America is severed from England for ever!"--if it had informed him,
that he himself, during the next annual revolution of the sun, should
put his own hand to the great instrument of independence, and write his
name where all nations should behold it and all time should not efface
it; that ere long he himself should maintain the interests and represent
the sovereignty of his new-born country in the proudest courts of
Europe; that he should one day exercise her supreme magistracy; that he
should yet live to behold ten millions of fellow-citizens paying him the
homage of their deepest gratitude and kindest affections; that he should
see distinguished talent and high public trust resting where his name
rested; that he should even see with his own unclouded eyes the close of
the second century of New England, who had begun life almost with its
commencement, and lived through nearly half the whole history of his
country; and that on the morning of this auspicious day he should be
found in the political councils of his native State, revising, by the
light of experience, that system of government which forty years before
he had assisted to frame and establish; and, great and happy as he
should then behold his country, there should be nothing in prospect to
cloud the scene, nothing to check the ardor of that confident and
patriotic hope which should glow in his bosom to the end of his long
protracted and happy life.
It would far exceed the limits of this discourse even to mention the
principal events in the civil and political history of New England
during the century; the more so, as for the last half of the period that
history has, most happily, been closely interwoven with the general
history of the United States. New England bore an honorable part in the
wars which took place between England and France. The capture of
Louisburg gave her a character for military achievement; and in the war
which terminated with the peace of 1763, her exertions on the frontiers
were of most essential service, as well to the mother country as to all
the Colonies.
In New England the war of the Revolution commenced. I address those who
remember the memorable 19th of April, 1775; who shortly after saw the
burning spires of Charlestown; who beheld the deeds of Prescott, and
heard the voice of Putnam amidst the storm of war, and saw the generous
Warren fall, the first distinguished victim in the cause of liberty. It
would be superfluous to say, that no portion of the country did more
than the States of New England to bring the Revolutionary struggle to a
successful issue. It is scarcely less to her credit, that she saw early
the necessity of a closer union of the States, and gave an efficient and
indispensable aid to the establishment and organization of the federal
government.
Perhaps we might safely say, that a new spirit and a new excitement
began to exist here about the middle of the last century. To whatever
causes it may be imputed, there seems then to have commenced a more
rapid improvement. The Colonies had attracted more of the attention of
the mother country, and some renown in arms had been acquired. Lord
Chatham was the first English minister who attached high importance to
these possessions of the crown, and who foresaw any thing of their
future growth and extension. His opinion was, that the great rival of
England was chiefly to be feared as a maritime and commercial power, and
to drive her out of North America and deprive her of her West Indian
possessions was a leading object in his policy. He dwelt often on the
fisheries, as nurseries for British seamen, and the colonial trade, as
furnishing them employment. The war, conducted by him with so much
vigor, terminated in a peace, by which Canada was ceded to England. The
effect of this was immediately visible in the New England Colonies; for,
the fear of Indian hostilities on the frontiers being now happily
removed, settlements went on with an activity before that time
altogether unprecedented, and public affairs wore a new and encouraging
aspect. Shortly after this fortunate termination of the French war, the
interesting topics connected with the taxation of America by the British
Parliament began to be discussed, and the attention and all the
faculties of the people drawn towards them. There is perhaps no portion
of our history more full of interest than the period from 1760 to the
actual commencement of the war. The progress of opinion in this period,
though less known, is not less important than the progress of arms
afterwards. Nothing deserves more consideration than those events and
discussions which affected the public sentiment and settled the
revolution in men's minds, before hostilities openly broke out.
Internal improvement followed the establishment and prosperous
commencement of the present government. More has been done for roads,
canals, and other public works, within the last thirty years, than in
all our former history. In the first of these particulars, few countries
excel the New England States. The astonishing increase of their
navigation and trade is known to every one, and now belongs to the
history of our national wealth.
We may flatter ourselves, too, that literature and taste have not been
stationary, and that some advancement has been made in the elegant, as
well as in the useful arts.
* * * * *
The nature and constitution of society and government in this country
are interesting topics, to which I would devote what remains of the
time allowed to this occasion. Of our system of government the first
thing to be said is, that it is really and practically a free system.
It originates entirely with the people, and rests on no other foundation
than their assent. To judge of its actual operation, it is not enough
to look merely at the form of its construction. The practical character
of government depends often on a variety of considerations, besides the
abstract frame of its constitutional organization. Among these are the
condition and tenure of property; the laws regulating its alienation
and descent; the presence or absence of a military power; an armed
or unarmed yeomanry; the spirit of the age, and the degree of
general intelligence. In these respects it cannot be denied that the
circumstances of this country are most favorable to the hope of
maintaining the government of a great nation on principles entirely
popular. In the absence of military power, the nature of government
must essentially depend on the manner in which property is holden and
distributed. There is a natural influence belonging to property, whether
it exists in many hands or few; and it is on the rights of property that
both despotism and unrestrained popular violence ordinarily commence
their attacks. Our ancestors began their system of government here
under a condition of comparative equality in regard to wealth, and
their early laws were of a nature to favor and continue this equality.
A republican form of government rests not more on political
constitutions, than on those laws which regulate the descent and
transmission of property. Governments like ours could not have been
maintained, where property was holden according to the principles of the
feudal system; nor, on the other hand, could the feudal constitution
possibly exist with us. Our New England ancestors brought hither no
great capitals from Europe; and if they had, there was nothing
productive in which they could have been invested. They left behind them
the whole feudal policy of the other continent. They broke away at once
from the system of military service established in the Dark Ages, and
which continues, down even to the present time, more or less to affect
the condition of property all over Europe. They came to a new country.
There were, as yet, no lands yielding rent, and no tenants rendering
service. The whole soil was unreclaimed from barbarism. They were
themselves, either from their original condition, or from the necessity
of their common interest, nearly on a general level in respect to
property. Their situation demanded a parcelling out and division of the
lands, and it may be fairly said, that this necessary act _fixed the
future frame and form of their government_. The character of their
political institutions was determined by the fundamental laws respecting
property. The laws rendered estates divisible among sons and daughters.
The right of primogeniture, at first limited and curtailed, was
afterwards abolished. The property was all freehold. The entailment of
estates, long trusts, and the other processes for fettering and tying up
inheritances, were not applicable to the condition of society, and
seldom made use of. On the contrary, alienation of the land was every
way facilitated, even to the subjecting of it to every species of debt.
The establishment of public registries, and the simplicity of our forms
of conveyance, have greatly facilitated the change of real estate from
one proprietor to another. The consequence of all these causes has been,
a great subdivision of the soil, and a great equality of condition; the
true basis, most certainly, of a popular government. "If the people,"
says Harrington, "hold three parts in four of the territory, it is plain
there can neither be any single person nor nobility able to dispute the
government with them; in this case, therefore, _except force be
interposed_, they govern themselves."
The history of other nations may teach us how favorable to public
liberty are the division of the soil into small freeholds, and a system
of laws, of which the tendency is, without violence or injustice, to
produce and to preserve a degree of equality of property. It has been
estimated, if I mistake not, that about the time of Henry the Seventh
four fifths of the land in England was holden by the great barons and
ecclesiastics. The effects of a growing commerce soon afterwards began
to break in on this state of things, and before the Revolution, in 1688,
a vast change had been wrought. It may be thought probable, that, for
the last half-century, the process of subdivision in England has been
retarded, if not reversed; that the great weight of taxation has
compelled many of the lesser freeholders to dispose of their estates,
and to seek employment in the army and navy, in the professions of civil
life, in commerce, or in the colonies. The effect of this on the British
constitution cannot but be most unfavorable. A few large estates grow
larger; but the number of those who have no estates also increases; and
there may be danger, lest the inequality of property become so great,
that those who possess it may be dispossessed by force; in other words,
that the government may be overturned.
A most interesting experiment of the effect of a subdivision of property
on government is now making in France. It is understood, that the law
regulating the transmission of property in that country, now divides it,
real and personal, among all the children equally, both sons and
daughters; and that there is, also, a very great restraint on the power
of making dispositions of property by will. It has been supposed, that
the effects of this might probably be, in time, to break up the soil
into such small subdivisions, that the proprietors would be too poor to
resist the encroachments of executive power. I think far otherwise. What
is lost in individual wealth will be more than gained in numbers, in
intelligence, and in a sympathy of sentiment. If, indeed, only one or a
few landholders were to resist the crown, like the barons of England,
they must, of course, be great and powerful landholders, with multitudes
of retainers, to promise success. But if the proprietors of a given
extent of territory are summoned to resistance, there is no reason to
believe that such resistance would be less forcible, or less successful,
because the number of such proprietors happened to be great. Each would
perceive his own importance, and his own interest, and would feel that
natural elevation of character which the consciousness of property
inspires. A common sentiment would unite all, and numbers would not only
add strength, but excite enthusiasm. It is true, that France possesses a
vast military force, under the direction of an hereditary executive
government; and military power, it is possible, may overthrow any
government. It is in vain, however, in this period of the world, to look
for security against military power to the arm of the great landholders.
That notion is derived from a state of things long since past; a state
in which a feudal baron, with his retainers, might stand against the
sovereign and his retainers, himself but the greatest baron. But at
present, what could the richest landholder do, against one regiment of
disciplined troops? Other securities, therefore, against the prevalence
of military power must be provided. Happily for us, we are not so
situated as that any purpose of national defence requires, ordinarily
and constantly, such a military force as might seriously endanger our
liberties.
In respect, however, to the recent law of succession in France, to which
I have alluded, I would, presumptously perhaps, hazard a conjecture,
that, if the government do not change the law, the law in half a century
will change the government; and that this change will be, not in favor
of the power of the crown, as some European writers have supposed, but
against it. Those writers only reason upon what they think correct
general principles, in relation to this subject. They acknowledge a want
of experience. Here we have had that experience; and we know that a
multitude of small proprietors, acting with intelligence, and that
enthusiasm which a common cause inspires, constitute not only a
formidable, but an invincible power.[47]
The true principle of a free and popular government would seem to be, so
to construct it as to give to all, or at least to a very great majority,
an interest in its preservation; to found it, as other things are
founded, on men's interest. The stability of government demands that
those who desire its continuance should be more powerful than those who
desire its dissolution. This power, of course, is not always to be
measured by mere numbers. Education, wealth, talents, are all parts and
elements of the general aggregate of power; but numbers, nevertheless,
constitute ordinarily the most important consideration, unless, indeed,
there be _a military force_ in the hands of the few, by which they can
control the many. In this country we have actually existing systems of
government, in the maintenance of which, it should seem, a great
majority, both in numbers and in other means of power and influence,
must see their interest. But this state of things is not brought about
solely by written political constitutions, or the mere manner of
organizing the government; but also by the laws which regulate the
descent and transmission of property. The freest government, if it could
exist, would not be long acceptable, if the tendency of the laws were to
create a rapid accumulation of property in few hands, and to render the
great mass of the population dependent and penniless. In such a case,
the popular power would be likely to break in upon the rights of
property, or else the influence of property to limit and control the
exercise of popular power. Universal suffrage, for example, could not
long exist in a community where there was great inequality of property.
The holders of estates would be obliged, in such case, in some way to
restrain the right of suffrage, or else such right of suffrage would,
before long, divide the property. In the nature of things, those who
have not property, and see their neighbors possess much more than they
think them to need, cannot be favorable to laws made for the protection
of property. When this class becomes numerous, it grows clamorous. It
looks on property as its prey and plunder, and is naturally ready, at
all times, for violence and revolution.
It would seem, then, to be the part of political wisdom to found
government on property; and to establish such distribution of property,
by the laws which regulate its transmission and alienation, as to
interest the great majority of society in the support of the government.
This is, I imagine, the true theory and the actual practice of our
republican institutions. With property divided as we have it, no other
government than that of a republic could be maintained, even were we
foolish enough to desire it. There is reason, therefore, to expect a
long continuance of our system. Party and passion, doubtless, may
prevail at times, and much temporary mischief be done. Even modes and
forms may be changed, and perhaps for the worse. But a great revolution
in regard to property must take place, before our governments can be
moved from their republican basis, unless they be violently struck off
by military power. The people possess the property, more emphatically
than it could ever be said of the people of any other country, and they
can have no interest to overturn a government which protects that
property by equal laws.
Let it not be supposed, that this state of things possesses too strong
tendencies towards the production of a dead and uninteresting level in
society. Such tendencies are sufficiently counteracted by the infinite
diversities in the characters and fortunes of individuals. Talent,
activity, industry, and enterprise tend at all times to produce
inequality and distinction; and there is room still for the accumulation
of wealth, with its great advantages, to all reasonable and useful
extent. It has been often urged against the state of society in America,
that it furnishes no class of men of fortune and leisure. This may be
partly true, but it is not entirely so, and the evil, if it be one,
would affect rather the progress of taste and literature, than the
general prosperity of the people. But the promotion of taste and
literature cannot be primary objects of political institutions; and if
they could, it might be doubted whether, in the long course of things,
as much is not gained by a wide diffusion of general knowledge, as is
lost by diminishing the number of those who are enabled by fortune and
leisure to devote themselves exclusively to scientific and literary
pursuits. However this may be, it is to be considered that it is the
spirit of our system to be equal and general, and if there be particular
disadvantages incident to this, they are far more than counterbalanced
by the benefits which weigh against them. The important concerns of
society are generally conducted, in all countries, by the men of
business and practical ability; and even in matters of taste and
literature, the advantages of mere leisure are liable to be overrated.
If there exist adequate means of education and a love of letters be
excited, that love will find its way to the object of its desire,
through the crowd and pressure of the most busy society.
Connected with this division of property, and the consequent
participation of the great mass of people in its possession and
enjoyments, is the system of representation, which is admirably
accommodated to our condition, better understood among us, and more
familiarly and extensively practised, in the higher and in the lower
departments of government, than it has been by any other people. Great
facility has been given to this in New England by the early division
of the country into townships or small districts, in which all
concerns of local police are regulated, and in which representatives
to the legislature are elected. Nothing can exceed the utility of
these little bodies. They are so many councils or parliaments, in
which common interests are discussed, and useful knowledge acquired
and communicated.
The division of governments into departments, and the division, again,
of the legislative department into two chambers, are essential
provisions in our system. This last, although not new in itself, yet
seems to be new in its application to governments wholly popular. The
Grecian republics, it is plain, knew nothing of it; and in Rome, the
check and balance of legislative power, such as it was, lay between the
people and the senate. Indeed, few things are more difficult than to
ascertain accurately the true nature and construction of the Roman
commonwealth. The relative power of the senate and the people, of the
consuls and the tribunes, appears not to have been at all times the
same, nor at any time accurately defined or strictly observed. Cicero,
indeed, describes to us an admirable arrangement of political power, and
a balance of the constitution, in that beautiful passage, in which he
compares the democracies of Greece with the Roman commonwealth. "O morem
preclarum, disciplinamque, quam a majoribus accepimus, si quidem
teneremus! sed nescio quo pacto jam de manibus elabitur. Nullam enim
illi nostri sapientissimi et sanctissimi viri vim concionis esse
voluerunt, quæ scisseret plebs, aut quæ populus juberet; summota
concione, distributis partibus, tributim et centuriatim descriptis
ordinibus, classibus, ætatibus, auditis auctoribus, re multos dies
promulgata et cognita, juberi vetarique voluerunt. Græcorum autem totæ
respublicæ sedentis concionis temeritate administrantur."[48]
But at what time this wise system existed in this perfection at Rome, no
proofs remain to show. Her constitution, originally framed for a
monarchy, never seemed to be adjusted in its several parts after the
expulsion of the kings. Liberty there was, but it was a disputatious, an
uncertain, an ill-secured liberty. The patrician and plebeian orders,
instead of being matched and joined, each in its just place and
proportion, to sustain the fabric of the state, were rather like hostile
powers, in perpetual conflict. With us, an attempt has been made, and so
far not without success, to divide representation into chambers, and, by
difference of age, character, qualification, or mode of election, to
establish salutary checks, in governments altogether elective.
Having detained you so long with these observations, I must yet advert
to another most interesting topic,--the Free Schools. In this
particular, New England may be allowed to claim, I think, a merit of a
peculiar character. She early adopted, and has constantly maintained the
principle, that it is the undoubted right and the bounden duty of
government to provide for the instruction of all youth. That which is
elsewhere left to chance or to charity, we secure by law.[49] For the
purpose of public instruction, we hold every man subject to taxation in
proportion to his property, and we look not to the question, whether he
himself have, or have not, children to be benefited by the education for
which he pays. We regard it as a wise and liberal system of police, by
which property, and life, and the peace of society are secured. We seek
to prevent in some measure the extension of the penal code, by inspiring
a salutary and conservative principle of virtue and of knowledge in an
early age. We strive to excite a feeling of respectability, and a sense
of character, by enlarging the capacity and increasing the sphere of
intellectual enjoyment. By general instruction, we seek, as far as
possible, to purify the whole moral atmosphere; to keep good sentiments
uppermost, and to turn the strong current of feeling and opinion, as
well as the censures of the law and the denunciations of religion,
against immorality and crime. We hope for a security beyond the law, and
above the law, in the prevalence of an enlightened and well-principled
moral sentiment. We hope to continue and prolong the time, when, in the
villages and farm-houses of New England, there may be undisturbed sleep
within unbarred doors. And knowing that our government rests directly on
the public will, in order that we may preserve it we endeavor to give a
safe and proper direction to that public will. We do not, indeed, expect
all men to be philosophers or statesmen; but we confidently trust, and
our expectation of the duration of our system of government rests on
that trust, that, by the diffusion of general knowledge and good and
virtuous sentiments, the political fabric may be secure, as well against
open violence and overthrow, as against the slow, but sure, undermining
of licentiousness.
We know that, at the present time, an attempt is making in the English
Parliament to provide by law for the education of the poor, and that a
gentleman of distinguished character (Mr. Brougham) has taken the lead
in presenting a plan to government for carrying that purpose into
effect. And yet, although the representatives of the three kingdoms
listened to him with astonishment as well as delight, we hear no
principles with which we ourselves have not been familiar from youth; we
see nothing in the plan but an approach towards that system which has
been established in New England for more than a century and a half. It
is said that in England not more than _one child in fifteen_ possesses
the means of being taught to read and write; in Wales, _one in twenty_;
in France, until lately, when some improvement was made, not more than
_one in thirty-five_. Now, it is hardly too strong to say, that in New
England _every child possesses_ such means. It would be difficult to
find an instance to the contrary, unless where it should be owing to the
negligence of the parent; and, in truth, the means are actually used and
enjoyed by nearly every one. A youth of fifteen, of either sex, who
cannot both read and write, is very seldom to be found. Who can make
this comparison, or contemplate this spectacle, without delight and a
feeling of just pride? Does any history show property more beneficently
applied? Did any government ever subject the property of those who have
estates to a burden, for a purpose more favorable to the poor, or more
useful to the whole community?
A conviction of the importance of public instruction was one of the
earliest sentiments of our ancestors. No lawgiver of ancient or modern
times has expressed more just opinions, or adopted wiser measures, than
the early records of the Colony of Plymouth show to have prevailed here.
Assembled on this very spot, a hundred and fifty-three years ago, the
legislature of this Colony declared, "Forasmuch as the maintenance of
good literature doth much tend to the advancement of the weal and
flourishing state of societies and republics, this Court doth therefore
order, that in whatever township in this government, consisting of fifty
families or upwards, any meet man shall be obtained to teach a grammar
school, such township shall allow at least twelve pounds, to be raised
by rate on all the inhabitants."
Having provided that all youth should be instructed in the elements of
learning by the institution of free schools, our ancestors had yet
another duty to perform. Men were to be educated for the professions and
the public. For this purpose they founded the University, and with
incredible zeal and perseverance they cherished and supported it,
through all trials and discouragements.[50] On the subject of the
University, it is not possible for a son of New England to think without
pleasure, or to speak without emotion. Nothing confers more honor on the
State where it is established, or more utility on the country at large.
A respectable university is an establishment which must be the work of
time. If pecuniary means were not wanting, no new institution could
possess character and respectability at once. We owe deep obligation to
our ancestors, who began, almost on the moment of their arrival, the
work of building up this institution.
Although established in a different government, the Colony of Plymouth
manifested warm friendship for Harvard College. At an early period, its
government took measures to promote a general subscription throughout
all the towns in this Colony, in aid of its small funds. Other colleges
were subsequently founded and endowed, in other places, as the ability
of the people allowed; and we may flatter ourselves, that the means of
education at present enjoyed in New England are not only adequate to the
diffusion of the elements of knowledge among all classes, but sufficient
also for respectable attainments in literature and the sciences.
Lastly, our ancestors established their system of government on morality
and religious sentiment. Moral habits, they believed, cannot safely be
trusted on any other foundation than religious principle, nor any
government be secure which is not supported by moral habits. Living
under the heavenly light of revelation, they hoped to find all the
social dispositions, all the duties which men owe to each other and to
society, enforced and performed. Whatever makes men good Christians,
makes them good citizens. Our fathers came here to enjoy their religion
free and unmolested; and, at the end of two centuries, there is nothing
upon which we can pronounce more confidently, nothing of which we can
express a more deep and earnest conviction, than of the inestimable
importance of that religion to man, both in regard to this life and that
which is to come.
If the blessings of our political and social condition have not been too
highly estimated, we cannot well overrate the responsibility and duty
which they impose upon us. We hold these institutions of government,
religion, and learning, to be transmitted, as well as enjoyed. We are in
the line of conveyance, through which whatever has been obtained by the
spirit and efforts of our ancestors is to be communicated to our
children.
We are bound to maintain public liberty, and, by the example of our own
systems, to convince the world that order and law, religion and
morality, the rights of conscience, the rights of persons, and the
rights of property, may all be preserved and secured, in the most
perfect manner, by a government entirely and purely elective. If we fail
in this, our disaster will be signal, and will furnish an argument,
stronger than has yet been found, in support of those opinions which
maintain that government can rest safely on nothing but power and
coercion. As far as experience may show errors in our establishments, we
are bound to correct them; and if any practices exist contrary to the
principles of justice and humanity within the reach of our laws or our
influence, we are inexcusable if we do not exert ourselves to restrain
and abolish them.
I deem it my duty on this occasion to suggest, that the land is not yet
wholly free from the contamination of a traffic, at which every feeling
of humanity must for ever revolt,--I mean the African slave-trade.[51]
Neither public sentiment, nor the law, has hitherto been able entirely
to put an end to this odious and abominable trade. At the moment when
God in his mercy has blessed the Christian world with a universal peace,
there is reason to fear, that, to the disgrace of the Christian name and
character, new efforts are making for the extension of this trade by
subjects and citizens of Christian states, in whose hearts there dwell
no sentiments of humanity or of justice, and over whom neither the fear
of God nor the fear of man exercises a control. In the sight of our law,
the African slave-trader is a pirate and a felon; and in the sight of
Heaven, an offender far beyond the ordinary depth of human guilt. There
is no brighter page of our history, than that which records the measures
which have been adopted by the government at an early day, and at
different times since, for the suppression of this traffic; and I would
call on all the true sons of New England to coöperate with the laws of
man, and the justice of Heaven. If there be, within the extent of our
knowledge or influence, any participation in this traffic, let us pledge
ourselves here, upon the rock of Plymouth, to extirpate and destroy it.
It is not fit that the land of the Pilgrims should bear the shame
longer. I hear the sound of the hammer, I see the smoke of the furnaces
where manacles and fetters are still forged for human limbs. I see the
visages of those who by stealth and at midnight labor in this work of
hell, foul and dark, as may become the artificers of such instruments of
misery and torture. Let that spot be purified, or let it cease to be of
New England. Let it be purified, or let it be set aside from the
Christian world; let it be put out of the circle of human sympathies and
human regards, and let civilized man henceforth have no communion with
it.
I would invoke those who fill the seats of justice, and all who minister
at her altar, that they execute the wholesome and necessary severity of
the law. I invoke the ministers of our religion, that they proclaim its
denunciation of these crimes, and add its solemn sanctions to the
authority of human laws. If the pulpit be silent whenever or wherever
there may be a sinner bloody with this guilt within the hearing of its
voice, the pulpit is false to its trust. I call on the fair merchant,
who has reaped his harvest upon the seas, that he assist in scourging
from those seas the worst pirates that ever infested them. That ocean,
which seems to wave with a gentle magnificence to waft the burden of an
honest commerce, and to roll along its treasures with a conscious
pride,--that ocean, which hardy industry regards, even when the winds
have ruffled its surface, as a field of grateful toil,--what is it to
the victim of this oppression, when he is brought to its shores, and
looks forth upon it, for the first time, loaded with chains, and
bleeding with stripes? What is it to him but a wide-spread prospect of
suffering, anguish, and death? Nor do the skies smile longer, nor is the
air longer fragrant to him. The sun is cast down from heaven. An inhuman
and accursed traffic has cut him off in his manhood, or in his youth,
from every enjoyment belonging to his being, and every blessing which
his Creator intended for him.
The Christian communities send forth their emissaries of religion and
letters, who stop, here and there, along the coast of the vast continent
of Africa, and with painful and tedious efforts make some almost
imperceptible progress in the communication of knowledge, and in the
general improvement of the natives who are immediately about them. Not
thus slow and imperceptible is the transmission of the vices and bad
passions which the subjects of Christian states carry to the land. The
slave-trade having touched the coast, its influence and its evils
spread, like a pestilence, over the whole continent, making savage wars
more savage and more frequent, and adding new and fierce passions to the
contests of barbarians.
I pursue this topic no further, except again to say, that all
Christendom, being now blessed with peace, is bound by every thing which
belongs to its character, and to the character of the present age, to
put a stop to this inhuman and disgraceful traffic.
We are bound, not only to maintain the general principles of public
liberty, but to support also those existing forms of government which
have so well secured its enjoyment, and so highly promoted the public
prosperity. It is now more than thirty years that these States have been
united under the Federal Constitution, and whatever fortune may await
them hereafter, it is impossible that this period of their history
should not be regarded as distinguished by signal prosperity and
success. They must be sanguine indeed, who can hope for benefit from
change. Whatever division of the public judgment may have existed in
relation to particular measures of the government, all must agree, one
should think, in the opinion, that in its general course it has been
eminently productive of public happiness. Its most ardent friends could
not well have hoped from it more than it has accomplished; and those who
disbelieved or doubted ought to feel less concern about predictions
which the event has not verified, than pleasure in the good which has
been obtained. Whoever shall hereafter write this part of our history,
although he may see occasional errors or defects, will be able to record
no great failure in the ends and objects of government. Still less will
he be able to record any series of lawless and despotic acts, or any
successful usurpation. His page will contain no exhibition of provinces
depopulated, of civil authority habitually trampled down by military
power, or of a community crushed by the burden of taxation. He will
speak, rather, of public liberty protected, and public happiness
advanced; of increased revenue, and population augmented beyond all
example; of the growth of commerce, manufactures, and the arts; and of
that happy condition, in which the restraint and coercion of government
are almost invisible and imperceptible, and its influence felt only in
the benefits which it confers. We can entertain no better wish for our
country, than that this government may be preserved; nor have a clearer
duty than to maintain and support it in the full exercise of all its
just constitutional powers.
The cause of science and literature also imposes upon us an important
and delicate trust. The wealth and population of the country are now so
far advanced, as to authorize the expectation of a correct literature
and a well formed taste, as well as respectable progress in the abstruse
sciences. The country has risen from a state of colonial subjection; it
has established an independent government, and is now in the undisturbed
enjoyment of peace and political security. The elements of knowledge are
universally diffused, and the reading portion of the community is large.
Let us hope that the present may be an auspicious era of literature. If,
almost on the day of their landing, our ancestors founded schools and
endowed colleges, what obligations do not rest upon us, living under
circumstances so much more favorable both for providing and for using
the means of education? Literature becomes free institutions. It is the
graceful ornament of civil liberty, and a happy restraint on the
asperities which political controversies sometimes occasion. Just taste
is not only an embellishment of society, but it rises almost to the rank
of the virtues, and diffuses positive good throughout the whole extent
of its influence. There is a connection between right feeling and right
principles, and truth in taste is allied with truth in morality. With
nothing in our past history to discourage us, and with something in our
present condition and prospects to animate us, let us hope, that, as it
is our fortune to live in an age when we may behold a wonderful
advancement of the country in all its other great interests, we may see
also equal progress and success attend the cause of letters.
Finally, let us not forget the religious character of our origin. Our
fathers were brought hither by their high veneration for the Christian
religion. They journeyed by its light, and labored in its hope. They
sought to incorporate its principles with the elements of their society,
and to diffuse its influence through all their institutions, civil,
political, or literary. Let us cherish these sentiments, and extend this
influence still more widely; in the full conviction, that that is the
happiest society which partakes in the highest degree of the mild and
peaceful spirit of Christianity.
The hours of this day are rapidly flying, and this occasion will soon be
passed. Neither we nor our children can expect to behold its return.
They are in the distant regions of futurity, they exist only in the
all-creating power of God, who shall stand here a hundred years hence,
to trace, through us, their descent from the Pilgrims, and to survey, as
we have now surveyed, the progress of their country, during the lapse of
a century. We would anticipate their concurrence with us in our
sentiments of deep regard for our common ancestors. We would anticipate
and partake the pleasure with which they will then recount the steps of
New England's advancement. On the morning of that day, although it will
not disturb us in our repose, the voice of acclamation and gratitude,
commencing on the Rock of Plymouth, shall be transmitted through
millions of the sons of the Pilgrims, till it lose itself in the murmurs
of the Pacific seas.
We would leave for the consideration of those who shall then occupy our
places, some proof that we hold the blessings transmitted from our
fathers in just estimation; some proof of our attachment to the cause of
good government, and of civil and religious liberty; some proof of a
sincere and ardent desire to promote every thing which may enlarge the
understandings and improve the hearts of men. And when, from the long
distance of a hundred years, they shall look back upon us, they shall
know, at least, that we possessed affections, which, running backward
and warming with gratitude for what our ancestors have done for our
happiness, run forward also to our posterity, and meet them with cordial
salutation, ere yet they have arrived on the shore of being.
Advance, then, ye future generations! We would hail you, as you rise in
your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste
the blessings of existence where we are passing, and soon shall have
passed, our own human duration. We bid you welcome to this pleasant land
of the fathers. We bid you welcome to the healthful skies and the
verdant fields of New England. We greet your accession to the great
inheritance which we have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of
good government and religious liberty. We welcome you to the treasures
of science and the delights of learning. We welcome you to the
transcendent sweets of domestic life, to the happiness of kindred, and
parents, and children. We welcome you to the immeasurable blessings of
rational existence, the immortal hope of Christianity, and the light of
everlasting truth!
FOOTNOTES
[33] A Discourse delivered at Plymouth, on the 22d of December, 1820.
[34] An interesting account of the Rock may be found in Dr. Thacher's
History of the Town of Plymouth, pp. 29, 198, 199.
[35] See Note A, at the end of the Discourse.
[36] For notices of Carver, Bradford, Standish, Brewster, and Allerton,
see Young's Chronicles of Plymouth and Massachusetts; Morton's
Memorial, p. 126; Belknap's American Biography, Vol. II.;
Hutchinson's History, Vol. II., App., pp. 456 _et seq._;
Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society; Winthrop's
Journal; and Thacher's History.
[37] For the original name of what is now _Plymouth_, see Lives of
American Governors, p. 38, note, a work prepared with great care
by J. B. Moore, Esq.
[38] The _twenty-first_ is now acknowledged to be the true anniversary.
See the Report of the Pilgrim Society on the subject.
[39] Herodot. VI. § 109.
[40] For the compact to which reference is made in the text, signed on
board the Mayflower, see Hutchinson's History, Vol. II.,
Appendix, No. I. For an eloquent description of the manner in
which the first Christian Sabbath was passed on board the
Mayflower, at Plymouth, see Barnes's Discourse at Worcester.
[41] The names of the passengers in the Mayflower, with some account of
them, may be found in the New England Genealogical Register,
Vol. I. p. 47, and a narration of some of the incidents of the
voyage, Vol. II. p. 188. For an account of Mrs. White the mother
of the first child born in New England, see Baylies's History of
Plymouth, Vol. II. p. 18, and for a notice of her son Peregrine,
see Moore's Lives of American Governors, Vol. I. p. 31, note.
[42] See the admirable letter written on board the Arbella, in
Hutchinson's History, Vol. I., Appendix, No. I.
[43] In reference to the British policy respecting Colonial
manufactures, see Representations of the Board of Trade to the
House of Lords, 23d Jan., 1734; also, 8th June, 1749. For an
able vindication of the British Colonial policy, see "Political
Essays concerning the Present State of the British Empire."
London, 1772.
[44] Many interesting papers, illustrating the early history of the
Colony, may be found in Hutchinson's "Collection of Original
Papers relating to the History of the Colony of Massachusetts
Bay."
[45] In reference to the fulfilment of this prediction, see Mr.
Webster's Address at the Celebration of the New England Society
of New York, on the 23d of December, 1850.
[46] John Adams, second President of the United States.
[47] See Note B, at the end of the Discourse.
[48] Oratio pro Flacco, § 7.
[49] The first free school established by law in the Plymouth Colony
was in 1670-72. One of the early teachers in Boston taught
school more than _seventy_ years. See Cotton Mather's "Funeral
Sermon upon Mr. Ezekiel Cheever, the ancient and honorable
Master of the Free School in Boston."
For the impression made upon the mind of an intelligent
foreigner by the general attention to popular education, as
characteristic of the American polity, see Mackay's Western
World, Vol. III. p. 225 _et seq._ Also, Edinburgh Review, No.
186.
[50] By a law of the Colony of Massachusetts Bay, passed as early as
1647, it was ordered, that, "when any town shall increase to the
number of one hundred families or householders, they shall set
up a grammar school, the master thereof being able to instruct
youth so far as they may be fitted for the University."
[51] In reference to the opposition of the Colonies to the slave-trade,
see a representation of the Board of Trade to the House of
Lords, 23d January, 1733-4.
NOTES.
NOTE A. Page 8.
The allusion in the Discourse is to the large historical painting of the
Landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, executed by Henry Sargent, Esq., of
Boston, and, with great liberality, presented by him to the Pilgrim
Society. It appeared in their hall (of which it forms the chief
ornament) for the first time at the celebration of 1824. It represents
the principal personages of the company at the moment of landing, with
the Indian Samoset, who approaches them with a friendly welcome. A very
competent judge, himself a distinguished artist, the late venerable
Colonel Trumbull, has pronounced that this painting has great merit. An
interesting account of it will be found in Dr. Thacher's History of
Plymouth, pp. 249 and 257.
An historical painting, by Robert N. Weir, Esq., of the largest size,
representing the embarkation of the Pilgrims from Delft-Haven, in
Holland, and executed by order of Congress, fills one of the panels of
the Rotunda of the Capitol at Washington. The moment chosen by the
artist for the action of the picture is that in which the venerable
pastor Robinson, with tears, and benedictions, and prayers to Heaven,
dismisses the beloved members of his little flock to the perils and the
hopes of their great enterprise. The characters of the personages
introduced are indicated with discrimination and power, and the
accessories of the work marked with much taste and skill. It is a
painting of distinguished historical interest and of great artistic
merit.
The "Landing of the Pilgrims" has also been made the subject of a very
interesting painting by Mr. Flagg, intended to represent the deep
religious feeling which so strikingly characterized the first settlers
of New England. With this object in view, the central figure is that of
Elder Brewster. It is a picture of cabinet size, and is in possession of
a gentleman of New Haven, descended from Elder Brewster, and of that
name.
NOTE B. Page 38.
As the opinion of contemporaneous thinkers on this important subject
cannot fail to interest the general reader, it is deemed proper to
insert here the following extract from a letter, written in 1849, to
show how powerfully the truths uttered in 1820, in the spirit of
prophecy, as it were, impressed themselves upon certain minds, and how
closely the verification of the prediction has been watched.
* * * * *
"I do not remember any political prophecy, founded on the spirit of a
wide and far-reaching statesmanship, that has been so remarkably
fulfilled as the one made by Mr. Webster, in his Discourse delivered at
Plymouth in 1820, on the effect which the laws of succession to property
in France, then in operation, would be likely to produce on the forms
and working of the French government. But to understand what he said,
and what he foresaw, I must explain a little what had been the course of
legislation in France on which his predictions were founded.
"Before the Revolution of 1789, there had been a great accumulation
of the landed property of the country, and, indeed, of all its
property,--by means of laws of entail, _majorats_, and other legal
contrivances,--in the hands of the privileged classes; chiefly in
those of the nobility and the clergy. The injury and injustice done by
long continued legislation in this direction were obviously great; and
it was not, perhaps, unnatural, that the opposite course to that which
had brought on the mischief should be deemed the best one to cure it.
At any rate, such was the course taken.
"In 1791 a law was passed, preventing any man from having any interest
beyond the period of his own life in any of his property, real,
personal, or mixed, and distributing all his possessions for him,
immediately after his death, among his children, in equal shares, or if
he left no children, then among his next of kin, on the same principle.
This law, with a slight modification, made under the influence of
Robespierre, was in force till 1800. But the period was entirely
revolutionary, and probably quite as much property changed hands from
violence and the consequences of violence, during the nine years it
continued, as was transmitted by the laws that directly controlled its
succession.
"With the coming in of Bonaparte, however, there was established a new
order of things, which has continued, with little modification, ever
since, and has had its full share in working out the great changes in
French society which we now witness. A few experiments were first made,
and then the great Civil Code, often called the _Code Napoleon_, was
adopted. This was in 1804. By this remarkable code, which is still in
force, a man, if he has but one child, can give away by his last will,
as he pleases, half of his property,--the law insuring the other half to
the child; if he has two children, then he can so give away only one
third,--the law requiring the other two thirds to be given equally to
the two children; if three, then only one fourth, under similar
conditions; but if he has a greater number, it restricts the rights of
the parent more and more, and makes it more and more difficult for him
to distribute his property according to his own judgment; the
restrictions embarrassing him even in his lifetime.
"The consequences of such laws are, from their nature, very slowly
developed. When Mr. Webster spoke in 1820, the French code had been in
operation sixteen years, and similar principles had prevailed for nearly
a generation. But still its wide results were not even suspected. Those
who had treated the subject at all supposed that the tendency was to
break up the great estates in France, and make the larger number of the
holders of small estates more accessible to the influence of the
government, then a limited monarchy, and so render it stronger and more
despotic.
"Mr. Webster held a different opinion. He said, 'In respect, however, to
the recent law of succession in France, to which I have alluded, _I
would, presumptuously perhaps, hazard a conjecture, that, if the
government do not change the law, the law in half a century will change
the government; and that this change will be, not in favor of the power
of the crown, as some European writers have supposed, but against it_.
Those writers only reason upon what they think correct general
principles, in relation to this subject. They acknowledge a want of
experience. Here we have had that experience; and we know that a
multitude of small proprietors, acting with intelligence, and that
enthusiasm which a common cause inspires, constitute not only a
formidable, but an invincible power.'
"In less than six years after Mr. Webster uttered this remarkable
prediction, the king of France himself, at the opening of the
Legislative Chambers, thus strangely echoed it:--'Legislation ought to
provide, by successive improvements, for all the wants of society. The
progressive partitioning of landed estates, essentially contrary to the
spirit of a monarchical government, would enfeeble the guaranties which
the charter has given to my throne and to my subjects. Measures will be
proposed to you, gentlemen, to establish the consistency which ought to
exist between the political law and the civil law, and to preserve the
patrimony of families, without restricting the liberty of disposing of
one's property. The preservation of families is connected with, and
affords a guaranty to, political stability, which is the first want of
states, and which is especially that of France, after so many
vicissitudes.'
"Still, the results to which such subdivision and comminution of
property tended were not foreseen even in France. The Revolution of 1830
came, and revealed a part of them; for that revolution was made by the
influence of men possessing very moderate estates, who believed that the
guaranties of a government like that of the elder branch of the
Bourbons were not sufficient for their safety. But when the revolution
was made, and the younger branch of the Bourbons reigned instead of the
elder, the laws for the descent of property continued to be the same,
and the subdivision went on as if it were an admitted benefit to
society.
"In consequence of this, in 1844 it was found that there were in France
at least five millions and a half of families, or about twenty-seven
millions of souls, who were proprietary families, and that of these
about four millions of families had each less than nine English acres to
the family on the average. Of course, a vast majority of these
twenty-seven millions of persons, though they might be interested in
some small portion of the soil, were really poor, and multitudes of them
were dependent.
"Now, therefore, the results began to appear in a practical form. One
third of all the rental of France was discovered to be absolutely
mortgaged, and another third was swallowed up by other encumbrances,
leaving but one third free for the use and benefit of its owners. In
other words, a great proportion of the people of France were embarrassed
and poor, and a great proportion of the remainder were fast becoming
so.
"Such a state of things produced, of course, a wide-spread social
uneasiness. Part of this uneasiness was directed against the existing
government; another and more formidable portion was directed against
_all_ government, and against the very institution of property. The
convulsion of 1848 followed; France is still unsettled; and Mr.
Webster's prophecy seems still to be in the course of a portentous
fulfilment."
* * * * *
In the London Quarterly Review for 1846 there is an interesting
discussion on so much of the matter as relates to the subdivision of
real estate for agricultural purposes in France, as far as it had then
advanced, and from which many of the facts here alluded to are taken.
THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
As early as 1776, some steps were taken toward the commemoration of the
battle of Bunker Hill and the fall of General Warren, who was buried
upon the hill the day after the action. The Massachusetts Lodge of
Masons, over which he presided, applied to the provisional government of
Massachusetts, for permission to take up his remains and to bury them
with the usual solemnities. The council granted this request, on
condition that it should be carried into effect in such a manner that
the government of _the Colony_ might have an opportunity to erect a
monument to his memory. A funeral procession was had, and a Eulogy on
General Warren was delivered by Perez Morton, but no measures were taken
toward building a monument.
A resolution was adopted by the Congress of the United States on the 8th
of April, 1777, directing that monuments should be erected to the memory
of General Warren, in Boston, and of General Mercer, at Fredericksburg;
but this resolution has remained to the present time unexecuted.
On the 11th of November, 1794, a committee was appointed by King
Solomon's Lodge, at Charlestown,[52] to take measures for the erection
of a monument to the memory of General Joseph Warren at the expense of
the Lodge. This resolution was promptly carried into effect. The land
for this purpose was presented to the Lodge by the Hon. James Russell,
of Charlestown, and it was dedicated with appropriate ceremonies on the
2d of December, 1794. It was a wooden pillar of the Tuscan order,
eighteen feet in height, raised on a pedestal eight feet square, and of
an elevation of ten feet from the ground. The pillar was surmounted by a
gilt urn. An appropriate inscription was placed on the south side of the
pedestal.
In February, 1818, a committee of the Legislature of Massachusetts was
appointed to consider the expediency of building a monument of American
marble to the memory of General Warren, but this proposal was not
carried into effect.
As the half-century from the date of the battle drew toward a close, a
stronger feeling of the duty of commemorating it began to be awakened in
the community. Among those who from the first manifested the greatest
interest in the subject, was the late William Tudor, Esq. He expressed
the wish, in a letter still preserved, to see upon the battle-ground
"the noblest monument in the world," and he was so ardent and
persevering in urging the project, that it has been stated that he first
conceived the idea of it. The steps taken in execution of the project,
from the earliest private conferences among the gentlemen first engaged
in it to its final completion, are accurately sketched by Mr. Richard
Frothingham, Jr., in his valuable History of the Siege of Boston. All
the material facts contained in this note are derived from his chapter
on the Bunker Hill Monument. After giving an account of the organization
of the society, the measures adopted for the collection of funds, and
the deliberations on the form of the monument, Mr. Frothingham proceeds
as follows:
"It was at this stage of the enterprise that the directors proposed
to lay the corner-stone of the monument, and ground was broken (June
7th) for this purpose. As a mark of respect to the liberality and
patriotism of King Solomon's Lodge, they invited the Grand Master of
the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts to perform the ceremony. They also
invited General Lafayette to accompany the President of the
Association, Hon. Daniel Webster, and assist in it.
"This celebration was unequalled in magnificence by any thing of the
kind that had been seen in New England. The morning proved
propitious. The air was cool, the sky was clear, and timely showers
the previous day had brightened the vesture of nature into its
loveliest hue. Delighted thousands flocked into Boston to bear a
part in the proceedings, or to witness the spectacle. At about ten
o'clock a procession moved from the State House towards Bunker Hill.
The military, in their fine uniforms, formed the van. About two
hundred veterans of the Revolution, of whom forty were survivors of
the battle, rode in barouches next to the escort. These venerable
men, the relics of a past generation, with emaciated frames,
tottering limbs, and trembling voices, constituted a touching
spectacle. Some wore, as honorable decorations, their old fighting
equipments, and some bore the scars of still more honorable wounds.
Glistening eyes constituted their answer to the enthusiastic cheers
of the grateful multitudes who lined their pathway and cheered their
progress. To this patriot band succeeded the Bunker Hill Monument
Association. Then the Masonic fraternity, in their splendid regalia,
thousands in number. Then Lafayette, continually welcomed by tokens
of love and gratitude, and the invited guests. Then a long array of
societies, with their various badges and banners. It was a splendid
procession, and of such length that the front nearly reached
Charlestown Bridge ere the rear had left Boston Common. It proceeded
to Breed's Hill, where the Grand Master of the Freemasons, the
President of the Monument Association, and General Lafayette,
performed the ceremony of laying the corner-stone, in the presence
of a vast concourse of people."
The procession then moved to a spacious amphitheatre on the northern
declivity of the hill, when the following address was delivered by Mr.
Webster, in the presence of as great a multitude as was ever perhaps
assembled within the sound of a human voice.
FOOTNOTES
[52] General Warren, at the time of his decease, was Grand Master of
the Masonic Lodges in America.
THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.[53]
This uncounted multitude before me and around me proves the feeling
which the occasion has excited. These thousands of human faces, glowing
with sympathy and joy, and from the impulses of a common gratitude
turned reverently to heaven in this spacious temple of the firmament,
proclaim that the day, the place, and the purpose of our assembling have
made a deep impression on our hearts.
If, indeed, there be any thing in local association fit to affect the
mind of man, we need not strive to repress the emotions which agitate us
here. We are among the sepulchres of our fathers. We are on ground,
distinguished by their valor, their constancy, and the shedding of their
blood. We are here, not to fix an uncertain date in our annals, nor to
draw into notice an obscure and unknown spot. If our humble purpose had
never been conceived, if we ourselves had never been born, the 17th of
June, 1775, would have been a day on which all subsequent history would
have poured its light, and the eminence where we stand a point of
attraction to the eyes of successive generations. But we are Americans.
We live in what may be called the early age of this great continent; and
we know that our posterity, through all time, are here to enjoy and
suffer the allotments of humanity. We see before us a probable train of
great events; we know that our own fortunes have been happily cast; and
it is natural, therefore, that we should be moved by the contemplation
of occurrences which have guided our destiny before many of us were
born, and settled the condition in which we should pass that portion of
our existence which God allows to men on earth.
We do not read even of the discovery of this continent, without feeling
something of a personal interest in the event; without being reminded
how much it has affected our own fortunes and our own existence. It
would be still more unnatural for us, therefore, than for others, to
contemplate with unaffected minds that interesting, I may say that most
touching and pathetic scene, when the great discoverer of America stood
on the deck of his shattered bark, the shades of night falling on the
sea, yet no man sleeping; tossed on the billows of an unknown ocean, yet
the stronger billows of alternate hope and despair tossing his own
troubled thoughts; extending forward his harassed frame, straining
westward his anxious and eager eyes, till Heaven at last granted him a
moment of rapture and ecstasy, in blessing his vision with the sight of
the unknown world.
Nearer to our times, more closely connected with our fates, and
therefore still more interesting to our feelings and affections, is the
settlement of our own country by colonists from England. We cherish
every memorial of these worthy ancestors; we celebrate their patience
and fortitude; we admire their daring enterprise; we teach our children
to venerate their piety; and we are justly proud of being descended from
men who have set the world an example of founding civil institutions on
the great and united principles of human freedom and human knowledge. To
us, their children, the story of their labors and sufferings can never
be without its interest. We shall not stand unmoved on the shore of
Plymouth, while the sea continues to wash it; nor will our brethren in
another early and ancient Colony forget the place of its first
establishment, till their river shall cease to flow by it.[54] No vigor
of youth, no maturity of manhood, will lead the nation to forget the
spots where its infancy was cradled and defended.
But the great event in the history of the continent, which we are now
met here to commemorate, that prodigy of modern times, at once the
wonder and the blessing of the world, is the American Revolution. In a
day of extraordinary prosperity and happiness, of high national honor,
distinction, and power, we are brought together, in this place, by our
love of country, by our admiration of exalted character, by our
gratitude for signal services and patriotic devotion.
* * * * *
The Society whose organ I am[55] was formed for the purpose of rearing
some honorable and durable monument to the memory of the early friends
of American Independence. They have thought, that for this object no
time could be more propitious than the present prosperous and peaceful
period; that no place could claim preference over this memorable spot;
and that no day could be more auspicious to the undertaking, than the
anniversary of the battle which was here fought. The foundation of that
monument we have now laid. With solemnities suited to the occasion, with
prayers to Almighty God for his blessing and in the midst of this cloud
of witnesses, we have begun the work. We trust it will be prosecuted,
and that, springing from a broad foundation, rising high in massive
solidity and unadorned grandeur, it may remain as long as Heaven permits
the works of man to last, a fit emblem, both of the events in memory of
which it is raised, and of the gratitude of those who have reared it.
We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most safely
deposited in the universal remembrance of mankind. We know, that if we
could cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the
skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surfaces could still contain
but part of that which, in an age of knowledge, hath already been spread
over the earth, and which history charges itself with making known to
all future times. We know that no inscription on entablatures less broad
than the earth itself can carry information of the events we commemorate
where it has not already gone; and that no structure, which shall not
outlive the duration of letters and knowledge among men, can prolong the
memorial. But our object is, by this edifice, to show our own deep sense
of the value and importance of the achievements of our ancestors; and,
by presenting this work of gratitude to the eye, to keep alive similar
sentiments, and to foster a constant regard for the principles of the
Revolution. Human beings are composed, not of reason only, but of
imagination also, and sentiment; and that is neither wasted nor
misapplied which is appropriated to the purpose of giving right
direction to sentiments, and opening proper springs of feeling in the
heart. Let it not be supposed that our object is to perpetuate national
hostility, or even to cherish a mere military spirit. It is higher,
purer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the spirit of national
independence, and we wish that the light of peace may rest upon it for
ever. We rear a memorial of our conviction of that unmeasured benefit
which has been conferred on our own land, and of the happy influences
which have been produced, by the same events, on the general interests
of mankind. We come, as Americans, to mark a spot which must for ever be
dear to us and our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all coming
time, shall turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not
undistinguished where the first great battle of the Revolution was
fought. We wish that this structure may proclaim the magnitude and
importance of that event to every class and every age. We wish that
infancy may learn the purpose of its erection from maternal lips, and
that weary and withered age may behold it, and be solaced by the
recollections which it suggests. We wish that labor may look up here,
and be proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish that, in those days of
disaster, which, as they come upon all nations, must be expected to come
upon us also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward, and be
assured that the foundations of our national power are still strong. We
wish that this column, rising towards heaven among the pointed spires of
so many temples dedicated to God, may contribute also to produce, in all
minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish, finally,
that the last object to the sight of him who leaves his native shore,
and the first to gladden his who revisits it, may be something which
shall remind him of the liberty and the glory of his country. Let it
rise! let it rise, till it meet the sun in his coming; let the earliest
light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and play on its
summit.
* * * * *
We live in a most extraordinary age. Events so various and so important
that they might crowd and distinguish centuries, are, in our times,
compressed within the compass of a single life. When has it happened
that history has had so much to record, in the same term of years, as
since the 17th of June, 1775? Our own Revolution, which, under other
circumstances, might itself have been expected to occasion a war of half
a century, has been achieved; twenty-four sovereign and independent
States erected; and a general government established over them, so safe,
so wise, so free, so practical, that we might well wonder its
establishment should have been accomplished so soon, were it not far the
greater wonder that it should have been established at all. Two or three
millions of people have been augmented to twelve, the great forests of
the West prostrated beneath the arm of successful industry, and the
dwellers on the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi become the
fellow-citizens and neighbors of those who cultivate the hills of New
England.[56] We have a commerce, that leaves no sea unexplored; navies,
which take no law from superior force; revenues, adequate to all the
exigencies of government, almost without taxation; and peace with all
nations, founded on equal rights and mutual respect.
Europe, within the same period, has been agitated by a mighty
revolution, which, while it has been felt in the individual condition
and happiness of almost every man, has shaken to the centre her
political fabric, and dashed against one another thrones which had stood
tranquil for ages. On this, our continent, our own example has been
followed, and colonies have sprung up to be nations. Unaccustomed sounds
of liberty and free government have reached us from beyond the track of
the sun; and at this moment the dominion of European power in this
continent, from the place where we stand to the south pole, is
annihilated for ever.[57]
In the mean time, both in Europe and America, such has been the general
progress of knowledge, such the improvement in legislation, in
commerce, in the arts, in letters, and, above all, in liberal ideas and
the general spirit of the age, that the whole world seems changed.
Yet, notwithstanding that this is but a faint abstract of the things
which have happened since the day of the battle of Bunker Hill, we are
but fifty years removed from it; and we now stand here to enjoy all
the blessings of our own condition, and to look abroad on the
brightened prospects of the world, while we still have among us some
of those who were active agents in the scenes of 1775, and who are now
here, from every quarter of New England, to visit once more, and
under circumstances so affecting, I had almost said so overwhelming,
this renowned theatre of their courage and patriotism.
* * * * *
VENERABLE MEN! you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven
has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this
joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour,
with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the
strife for your country. Behold, how altered! The same heavens are
indeed over your heads; the same ocean rolls at your feet; but all else
how changed! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed
volumes of smoke and flame rising from burning Charlestown. The ground
strowed with the dead and the dying; the impetuous charge; the steady
and successful repulse; the loud call to repeated assault; the summoning
of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms freely
and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there may be in
war and death;--all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no
more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and
roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children and countrymen
in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions for the
issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its
whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you with a
universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position
appropriately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to
cling around it, are not means of annoyance to you, but your country's
own means of distinction and defence.[58] All is peace; and God has
granted you this sight of your country's happiness, ere you slumber in
the grave. He has allowed you to behold and to partake the reward of
your patriotic toils; and he has allowed us, your sons and countrymen,
to meet you here, and in the name of the present generation, in the name
of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you!
But, alas! you are not all here! Time and the sword have thinned your
ranks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge! our eyes
seek for you in vain amid this broken band. You are gathered to your
fathers, and live only to your country in her grateful remembrance and
your own bright example. But let us not too much grieve, that you have
met the common fate of men. You lived at least long enough to know that
your work had been nobly and successfully accomplished. You lived to see
your country's independence established, and to sheathe your swords from
war. On the light of Liberty you saw arise the light of Peace, like
"another morn,
Risen on mid-noon";
and the sky on which you closed your eyes was cloudless.
But ah! Him! the first great martyr in this great cause! Him! the
premature victim of his own self-devoting heart! Him! the head of our
civil councils, and the destined leader of our military bands, whom
nothing brought hither but the unquenchable fire of his own spirit! Him!
cut off by Providence in the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick
gloom; falling ere he saw the star of his country rise; pouring out his
generous blood like water, before he knew whether it would fertilize a
land of freedom or of bondage!--how shall I struggle with the emotions
that stifle the utterance of thy name![59] Our poor work may perish; but
thine shall endure! This monument may moulder away; the solid ground it
rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea; but thy memory shall
not fail! Wheresoever among men a heart shall be found that beats to the
transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim
kindred with thy spirit!
But the scene amidst which we stand does not permit us to confine our
thoughts or our sympathies to those fearless spirits who hazarded or
lost their lives on this consecrated spot. We have the happiness to
rejoice here in the presence of a most worthy representation of the
survivors of the whole Revolutionary army.
VETERANS! you are the remnant of many a well-fought field. You bring
with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, from Yorktown,
Camden, Bennington, and Saratoga. VETERANS OF HALF A CENTURY! when in
your youthful days you put every thing at hazard in your country's
cause, good as that cause was, and sanguine as youth is, still your
fondest hopes did not stretch onward to an hour like this! At a period
to which you could not reasonably have expected to arrive, at a moment
of national prosperity such as you could never have foreseen, you are
now met here to enjoy the fellowship of old soldiers, and to receive the
overflowings of a universal gratitude.
But your agitated countenances and your heaving breasts inform me that
even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult of contending
feelings rushes upon you. The images of the dead, as well as the persons
of the living, present themselves before you. The scene overwhelms you,
and I turn from it. May the Father of all mercies smile upon your
declining years, and bless them! And when you shall here have exchanged
your embraces, when you shall once more have pressed the hands which
have been so often extended to give succor in adversity, or grasped in
the exultation of victory, then look abroad upon this lovely land which
your young valor defended, and mark the happiness with which it is
filled; yea, look abroad upon the whole earth, and see what a name you
have contributed to give to your country, and what a praise you have
added to freedom, and then rejoice in the sympathy and gratitude which
beam upon your last days from the improved condition of mankind!
* * * * *
The occasion does not require of me any particular account of the battle
of the 17th of June, 1775, nor any detailed narrative of the events
which immediately preceded it. These are familiarly known to all. In the
progress of the great and interesting controversy, Massachusetts and
the town of Boston had become early and marked objects of the
displeasure of the British Parliament. This had been manifested in
the act for altering the government of the Province, and in that for
shutting up the port of Boston. Nothing sheds more honor on our
early history, and nothing better shows how little the feelings and
sentiments of the Colonies were known or regarded in England, than the
impression which these measures everywhere produced in America. It had
been anticipated, that while the Colonies in general would be terrified
by the severity of the punishment inflicted on Massachusetts, the
other seaports would be governed by a mere spirit of gain; and that,
as Boston was now cut off from all commerce, the unexpected advantage
which this blow on her was calculated to confer on other towns would be
greedily enjoyed. How miserably such reasoners deceived themselves!
How little they knew of the depth, and the strength, and the
intenseness of that feeling of resistance to illegal acts of power,
which possessed the whole American people! Everywhere the unworthy boon
was rejected with scorn. The fortunate occasion was seized, everywhere,
to show to the whole world that the Colonies were swayed by no local
interest, no partial interest, no selfish interest. The temptation to
profit by the punishment of Boston was strongest to our neighbors of
Salem. Yet Salem was precisely the place where this miserable proffer
was spurned, in a tone of the most lofty self-respect and the most
indignant patriotism. "We are deeply affected," said its inhabitants,
"with the sense of our public calamities; but the miseries that are
now rapidly hastening on our brethren in the capital of the Province
greatly excite our commiseration. By shutting up the port of Boston,
some imagine that the course of trade might be turned hither and to
our benefit; but we must be dead to every idea of justice, lost to
all feelings of humanity, could we indulge a thought to seize on wealth
and raise our fortunes on the ruin of our suffering neighbors." These
noble sentiments were not confined to our immediate vicinity. In that
day of general affection and brotherhood, the blow given to Boston
smote on every patriotic heart from one end of the country to the
other. Virginia and the Carolinas, as well as Connecticut and New
Hampshire, felt and proclaimed the cause to be their own. The
Continental Congress, then holding its first session in Philadelphia,
expressed its sympathy for the suffering inhabitants of Boston, and
addresses were received from all quarters, assuring them that the
cause was a common one, and should be met by common efforts and
common sacrifices. The Congress of Massachusetts responded to these
assurances; and in an address to the Congress at Philadelphia,
bearing the official signature, perhaps among the last, of the immortal
Warren, notwithstanding the severity of its suffering and the magnitude
of the dangers which threatened it, it was declared, that this Colony
"is ready, at all times, to spend and to be spent in the cause of
America."
But the hour drew nigh which was to put professions to the proof, and to
determine whether the authors of these mutual pledges were ready to seal
them in blood. The tidings of Lexington and Concord had no sooner
spread, than it was universally felt that the time was at last come for
action. A spirit pervaded all ranks, not transient, not boisterous, but
deep, solemn, determined,
"totamque infusa per artus
Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet."
War, on their own soil and at their own doors; was, indeed, a strange
work to the yeomanry of New England; but their consciences were
convinced of its necessity, their country called them to it, and they
did not withhold themselves from the perilous trial. The ordinary
occupations of life were abandoned; the plough was staid in the
unfinished furrow; wives gave up their husbands, and mothers gave up
their sons, to the battles of a civil war. Death might come, in honor,
on the field; it might come, in disgrace, on the scaffold. For either
and for both they were prepared. The sentiment of Quincy was full in
their hearts. "Blandishments," said that distinguished son of genius and
patriotism, "will not fascinate us, nor will threats of a halter
intimidate; for, under God, we are determined that, wheresoever,
whensoever, or howsoever we shall be called to make our exit, we will
die free men."
The 17th of June saw the four New England Colonies standing here, side
by side, to triumph or to fall together; and there was with them from
that moment to the end of the war, what I hope will remain with them for
ever, one cause, one country, one heart.
The battle of Bunker Hill was attended with the most important effects
beyond its immediate results as a military engagement. It created at
once a state of open, public war. There could now be no longer a
question of proceeding against individuals, as guilty of treason or
rebellion. That fearful crisis was past. The appeal lay to the sword,
and the only question was, whether the spirit and the resources of the
people would hold out, till the object should be accomplished. Nor were
its general consequences confined to our own country. The previous
proceedings of the Colonies, their appeals, resolutions, and addresses,
had made their cause known to Europe. Without boasting, we may say, that
in no age or country has the public cause been maintained with more
force of argument, more power of illustration, or more of that
persuasion which excited feeling and elevated principle can alone
bestow, than the Revolutionary state papers exhibit. These papers will
for ever deserve to be studied, not only for the spirit which they
breathe, but for the ability with which they were written.
To this able vindication of their cause, the Colonies had now added a
practical and severe proof of their own true devotion to it, and given
evidence also of the power which they could bring to its support. All
now saw, that if America fell, she would not fall without a struggle.
Men felt sympathy and regard, as well as surprise, when they beheld
these infant states, remote, unknown, unaided, encounter the power of
England, and, in the first considerable battle, leave more of their
enemies dead on the field, in proportion to the number of combatants,
than had been recently known to fall in the wars of Europe.
Information of these events, circulating throughout the world, at length
reached the ears of one who now hears me.[60] He has not forgotten the
emotion which the fame of Bunker Hill, and the name of Warren, excited
in his youthful breast.
* * * * *
SIR, we are assembled to commemorate the establishment of great public
principles of liberty, and to do honor to the distinguished dead. The
occasion is too severe for eulogy of the living. But, Sir, your
interesting relation to this country, the peculiar circumstances which
surround you and surround us, call on me to express the happiness which
we derive from your presence and aid in this solemn commemoration.
Fortunate, fortunate man! with what measure of devotion will you not
thank God for the circumstances of your extraordinary life! You are
connected with both hemispheres and with two generations. Heaven saw fit
to ordain, that the electric spark of liberty should be conducted,
through you, from the New World to the Old; and we, who are now here to
perform this duty of patriotism, have all of us long ago received it in
charge from our fathers to cherish your name and your virtues. You will
account it an instance of your good fortune, Sir, that you crossed the
seas to visit us at a time which enables you to be present at this
solemnity. You now behold the field, the renown of which reached you in
the heart of France, and caused a thrill in your ardent bosom. You see
the lines of the little redoubt thrown up by the incredible diligence of
Prescott; defended, to the last extremity, by his lion-hearted valor;
and within which the corner-stone of our monument has now taken its
position. You see where Warren fell, and where Parker, Gardner,
McCleary, Moore, and other early patriots, fell with him. Those who
survived that day, and whose lives have been prolonged to the present
hour, are now around you. Some of them you have known in the trying
scenes of the war. Behold! they now stretch forth their feeble arms to
embrace you. Behold! they raise their trembling voices to invoke the
blessing of God on you and yours for ever.
Sir, you have assisted us in laying the foundation of this structure.
You have heard us rehearse, with our feeble commendation, the names of
departed patriots. Monuments and eulogy belong to the dead. We give them
this day to Warren and his associates. On other occasions they have been
given to your more immediate companions in arms, to Washington, to
Greene, to Gates, to Sullivan, and to Lincoln. We have become reluctant
to grant these, our highest and last honors, further. We would gladly
hold them yet back from the little remnant of that immortal band. _Serus
in coelum redeas._ Illustrious as are your merits, yet far, O, very far
distant be the day, when any inscription shall bear your name, or any
tongue pronounce its eulogy!
* * * * *
The leading reflection to which this occasion seems to invite us,
respects the great changes which have happened in the fifty years since
the battle of Bunker Hill was fought. And it peculiarly marks the
character of the present age, that, in looking at these changes, and in
estimating their effect on our condition, we are obliged to consider,
not what has been done in our own country only, but in others also. In
these interesting times, while nations are making separate and
individual advances in improvement, they make, too, a common progress;
like vessels on a common tide, propelled by the gales at different
rates, according to their several structure and management, but all
moved forward by one mighty current, strong enough to bear onward
whatever does not sink beneath it.
A chief distinction of the present day is a community of opinions and
knowledge amongst men in different nations, existing in a degree
heretofore unknown. Knowledge has, in our time, triumphed, and is
triumphing, over distance, over difference of languages, over diversity
of habits, over prejudice, and over bigotry. The civilized and Christian
world is fast learning the great lesson, that difference of nation does
not imply necessary hostility, and that all contact need not be war. The
whole world is becoming a common field for intellect to act in. Energy
of mind, genius, power, wheresoever it exists, may speak out in any
tongue, and the _world_ will hear it. A great chord of sentiment and
feeling runs through two continents, and vibrates over both. Every
breeze wafts intelligence from country to country; every wave rolls it;
all give it forth, and all in turn receive it. There is a vast commerce
of ideas; there are marts and exchanges for intellectual discoveries,
and a wonderful fellowship of those individual intelligences which make
up the mind and opinion of the age. Mind is the great lever of all
things; human thought is the process by which human ends are ultimately
answered; and the diffusion of knowledge, so astonishing in the last
half-century, has rendered innumerable minds, variously gifted by
nature, competent to be competitors or fellow-workers on the theatre of
intellectual operation.
From these causes important improvements have taken place in the
personal condition of individuals. Generally speaking, mankind are not
only better fed and better clothed, but they are able also to enjoy more
leisure; they possess more refinement and more self-respect. A superior
tone of education, manners, and habits prevails. This remark, most true
in its application to our own country, is also partly true when applied
elsewhere. It is proved by the vastly augmented consumption of those
articles of manufacture and of commerce which contribute to the comforts
and the decencies of life; an augmentation which has far outrun the
progress of population. And while the unexampled and almost incredible
use of machinery would seem to supply the place of labor, labor still
finds its occupation and its reward; so wisely has Providence adjusted
men's wants and desires to their condition and their capacity.
Any adequate survey, however, of the progress made during the last
half-century in the polite and the mechanic arts, in machinery and
manufactures, in commerce and agriculture, in letters and in science,
would require volumes. I must abstain wholly from these subjects, and
turn for a moment to the contemplation of what has been done on the
great question of politics and government. This is the master topic of
the age; and during the whole fifty years it has intensely occupied the
thoughts of men. The nature of civil government, its ends and uses, have
been canvassed and investigated; ancient opinions attacked and defended;
new ideas recommended and resisted, by whatever power the mind of man
could bring to the controversy. From the closet and the public halls the
debate has been transferred to the field; and the world has been shaken
by wars of unexampled magnitude, and the greatest variety of fortune. A
day of peace has at length succeeded; and now that the strife has
subsided, and the smoke cleared away, we may begin to see what has
actually been done, permanently changing the state and condition of
human society. And, without dwelling on particular circumstances, it is
most apparent, that, from the before-mentioned causes of augmented
knowledge and improved individual condition, a real, substantial, and
important change has taken place, and is taking place, highly favorable,
on the whole, to human liberty and human happiness.
The great wheel of political revolution began to move in America. Here
its rotation was guarded, regular, and safe. Transferred to the other
continent, from unfortunate but natural causes, it received an irregular
and violent impulse; it whirled along with a fearful celerity; till at
length, like the chariot-wheels in the races of antiquity, it took fire
from the rapidity of its own motion, and blazed onward, spreading
conflagration and terror around.
We learn from the result of this experiment, how fortunate was our own
condition, and how admirably the character of our people was calculated
for setting the great example of popular governments. The possession of
power did not turn the heads of the American people, for they had long
been in the habit of exercising a great degree of self-control. Although
the paramount authority of the parent state existed over them, yet a
large field of legislation had always been open to our Colonial
assemblies. They were accustomed to representative bodies and the forms
of free government; they understood the doctrine of the division of
power among different branches, and the necessity of checks on each. The
character of our countrymen, moreover, was sober, moral, and religious;
and there was little in the change to shock their feelings of justice
and humanity, or even to disturb an honest prejudice. We had no domestic
throne to overturn, no privileged orders to cast down, no violent
changes of property to encounter. In the American Revolution, no man
sought or wished for more than to defend and enjoy his own. None hoped
for plunder or for spoil. Rapacity was unknown to it; the axe was not
among the instruments of its accomplishment; and we all know that it
could not have lived a single day under any well-founded imputation of
possessing a tendency adverse to the Christian religion.
It need not surprise us, that, under circumstances less auspicious,
political revolutions elsewhere, even when well intended, have
terminated differently. It is, indeed, a great achievement, it is the
master-work of the world, to establish governments entirely popular on
lasting foundations; nor is it easy, indeed, to introduce the popular
principle at all into governments to which it has been altogether a
stranger. It cannot be doubted, however, that Europe has come out of the
contest, in which she has been so long engaged, with greatly superior
knowledge, and, in many respects, in a highly improved condition.
Whatever benefit has been acquired is likely to be retained, for it
consists mainly in the acquisition of more enlightened ideas. And
although kingdoms and provinces may be wrested from the hands that hold
them, in the same manner they were obtained; although ordinary and
vulgar power may, in human affairs, be lost as it has been won; yet it
is the glorious prerogative of the empire of knowledge, that what it
gains it never loses. On the contrary, it increases by the multiple of
its own power; all its ends become means; all its attainments, helps to
new conquests. Its whole abundant harvest is but so much seed wheat, and
nothing has limited, and nothing can limit, the amount of ultimate
product.
Under the influence of this rapidly increasing knowledge, the people
have begun, in all forms of government, to think, and to reason, on
affairs of state. Regarding government as an institution for the public
good, they demand a knowledge of its operations, and a participation in
its exercise. A call for the representative system, wherever it is not
enjoyed, and where there is already intelligence enough to estimate its
value, is perseveringly made. Where men may speak out, they demand it;
where the bayonet is at their throats, they pray for it.
When Louis the Fourteenth said, "I am the state," he expressed the
essence of the doctrine of unlimited power. By the rules of that system,
the people are disconnected from the state; they are its subjects; it is
their lord. These ideas, founded in the love of power, and long
supported by the excess and the abuse of it, are yielding, in our age,
to other opinions; and the civilized world seems at last to be
proceeding to the conviction of that fundamental and manifest truth,
that the powers of government are but a trust, and that they cannot be
lawfully exercised but for the good of the community. As knowledge is
more and more extended, this conviction becomes more and more general.
Knowledge, in truth, is the great sun in the firmament. Life and power
are scattered with all its beams. The prayer of the Grecian champion,
when enveloped in unnatural clouds and darkness, is the appropriate
political supplication for the people of every country not yet blessed
with free institutions:--
"Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore,
Give me TO SEE,--and Ajax asks no more."
We may hope that the growing influence of enlightened sentiment will
promote the permanent peace of the world. Wars to maintain family
alliances, to uphold or to cast down dynasties, and to regulate
successions to thrones, which have occupied so much room in the history
of modern times, if not less likely to happen at all, will be less
likely to become general and involve many nations, as the great
principle shall be more and more established, that the interest of the
world is peace, and its first great statute, that every nation possesses
the power of establishing a government for itself. But public opinion
has attained also an influence over governments which do not admit the
popular principle into their organization. A necessary respect for the
judgment of the world operates, in some measure, as a control over the
most unlimited forms of authority. It is owing, perhaps, to this truth,
that the interesting struggle of the Greeks has been suffered to go on
so long, without a direct interference, either to wrest that country
from its present masters, or to execute the system of pacification by
force, and, with united strength, lay the neck of Christian and
civilized Greek at the foot of the barbarian Turk. Let us thank God that
we live in an age when something has influence besides the bayonet, and
when the sternest authority does not venture to encounter the scorching
power of public reproach. Any attempt of the kind I have mentioned
should be met by one universal burst of indignation; the air of the
civilized world ought to be made too warm to be comfortably breathed by
any one who would hazard it.
It is, indeed, a touching reflection, that, while, in the fulness of our
country's happiness, we rear this monument to her honor, we look for
instruction in our undertaking to a country which is now in fearful
contest, not for works of art or memorials of glory, but for her own
existence. Let her be assured, that she is not forgotten in the world;
that her efforts are applauded, and that constant prayers ascend for her
success. And let us cherish a confident hope for her final triumph. If
the true spark of religious and civil liberty be kindled, it will burn.
Human agency cannot extinguish it. Like the earth's central fire, it may
be smothered for a time; the ocean may overwhelm it; mountains may press
it down; but its inherent and unconquerable force will heave both the
ocean and the land, and at some time or other, in some place or other,
the volcano will break out and flame up to heaven.
Among the great events of the half-century, we must reckon, certainly,
the revolution of South America; and we are not likely to overrate the
importance of that revolution, either to the people of the country
itself or to the rest of the world. The late Spanish colonies, now
independent states, under circumstances less favorable, doubtless, than
attended our own revolution, have yet successfully commenced their
national existence. They have accomplished the great object of
establishing their independence; they are known and acknowledged in the
world; and although in regard to their systems of government, their
sentiments on religious toleration, and their provisions for public
instruction, they may have yet much to learn, it must be admitted that
they have risen to the condition of settled and established states more
rapidly than could have been reasonably anticipated. They already
furnish an exhilarating example of the difference between free
governments and despotic misrule. Their commerce, at this moment,
creates a new activity in all the great marts of the world. They show
themselves able, by an exchange of commodities, to bear a useful part in
the intercourse of nations.
A new spirit of enterprise and industry begins to prevail; all the
great interests of society receive a salutary impulse; and the progress
of information not only testifies to an improved condition, but itself
constitutes the highest and most essential improvement.
When the battle of Bunker Hill was fought, the existence of South
America was scarcely felt in the civilized world. The thirteen little
Colonies of North America habitually called themselves the "Continent."
Borne down by colonial subjugation, monopoly, and bigotry, these vast
regions of the South were hardly visible above the horizon. But in our
day there has been, as it were, a new creation. The southern hemisphere
emerges from the sea. Its lofty mountains begin to lift themselves into
the light of heaven; its broad and fertile plains stretch out, in
beauty, to the eye of civilized man, and at the mighty bidding of the
voice of political liberty the waters of darkness retire.
* * * * *
And, now, let us indulge an honest exultation in the conviction of the
benefit which the example of our country has produced, and is likely to
produce, on human freedom and human happiness. Let us endeavor to
comprehend in all its magnitude, and to feel in all its importance, the
part assigned to us in the great drama of human affairs. We are placed
at the head of the system of representative and popular governments.
Thus far our example shows that such governments are compatible, not
only with respectability and power, but with repose, with peace, with
security of personal rights, with good laws, and a just administration.
We are not propagandists. Wherever other systems are preferred, either
as being thought better in themselves, or as better suited to existing
condition, we leave the preference to be enjoyed. Our history hitherto
proves, however, that the popular form is practicable, and that with
wisdom and knowledge men may govern themselves; and the duty incumbent
on us is, to preserve the consistency of this cheering example, and take
care that nothing may weaken its authority with the world. If, in our
case, the representative system ultimately fail, popular governments
must be pronounced impossible. No combination of circumstances more
favorable to the experiment can ever be expected to occur. The last
hopes of mankind, therefore, rest with us; and if it should be
proclaimed, that our example had become an argument against the
experiment, the knell of popular liberty would be sounded throughout the
earth.
These are excitements to duty; but they are not suggestions of doubt.
Our history and our condition, all that is gone before us, and all that
surrounds us, authorize the belief, that popular governments, though
subject to occasional variations, in form perhaps not always for the
better, may yet, in their general character, be as durable and permanent
as other systems. We know, indeed, that in our country any other is
impossible. The _principle_ of free governments adheres to the American
soil. It is bedded in it, immovable as its mountains.
And let the sacred obligations which have devolved on this generation,
and on us, sink deep into our hearts. Those who established our liberty
and our government are daily dropping from among us. The great trust now
descends to new hands. Let us apply ourselves to that which is presented
to us, as our appropriate object. We can win no laurels in a war for
independence. Earlier and worthier hands have gathered them all. Nor are
there places for us by the side of Solon, and Alfred, and other founders
of states. Our fathers have filled them. But there remains to us a
great duty of defence and preservation; and there is opened to us, also,
a noble pursuit, to which the spirit of the times strongly invites us.
Our proper business is improvement. Let our age be the age of
improvement. In a day of peace, let us advance the arts of peace and the
works of peace. Let us develop the resources of our land, call forth its
powers, build up its institutions, promote all its great interests, and
see whether we also, in our day and generation, may not perform
something worthy to be remembered. Let us cultivate a true spirit of
union and harmony. In pursuing the great objects which our condition
points out to us, let us act under a settled conviction, and an habitual
feeling, that these twenty-four States are one country. Let our
conceptions be enlarged to the circle of our duties. Let us extend our
ideas over the whole of the vast field in which we are called to act.
Let our object be, OUR COUNTRY, OUR WHOLE COUNTRY, AND NOTHING BUT OUR
COUNTRY. And, by the blessing of God, may that country itself become a
vast and splendid monument, not of oppression and terror, but of Wisdom,
of Peace, and of Liberty, upon which the world may gaze with admiration
for ever!
FOOTNOTES
[53] An Address delivered at the Laying of the Corner-stone of the
Bunker Hill Monument at Charlestown, Massachusetts, on the 17th
of June, 1825.
[54] An interesting account of the voyage of the early emigrants to the
Maryland Colony, and of its settlement, is given in the official
report of Father White, written probably within the first month
after the landing at St. Mary's. The original Latin manuscript
is still preserved among the archives of the Jesuits, at Rome.
The "Ark" and the "Dove" are remembered with scarcely less
interest by the descendants of the sister Colony, than is the
"Mayflower" in New England, which, thirteen years earlier, at
the same season of the year, bore thither the Pilgrim Fathers.
[55] Mr. Webster was at this time President of the Bunker Hill Monument
Association, chosen on the decease of Governor John Brooks, the
first President.
[56] That which was spoken of figuratively in 1825 has, in the lapse of
a quarter of a century, by the introduction of railroads and
telegraphic lines, become a reality. It is an interesting
circumstance, that the first railroad on the Western Continent
was constructed for the purpose of accelerating the erection of
this monument.
[57] See President Monroe's Message to Congress in 1823, and Mr.
Webster's speech on the Panama mission, in 1828.
[58] It is necessary to inform those only who are unacquainted with the
localities, that the United States Navy Yard at Charlestown is
situated at the base of Bunker Hill.
[59] See the North American Review, Vol. XLI. p. 242.
[60] Among the earliest of the arrangements for the celebration of the
17th of June, 1825, was the invitation to General Lafayette to
be present; and he had so timed his progress through the other
States as to return to Massachusetts in season for the great
occasion.
THE COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.*
In the introductory note to the preceding Address, a brief account is
given of the origin and progress of the measures adopted for the
erection of the Bunker Hill Monument, down to the time of laying the
corner-stone, compiled from Mr. Frothingham's History of the Siege of
Boston. The same valuable work (pp. 345-352) relates the obstacles
which presented themselves to the rapid execution of the design, and
the means by which they were overcome. In this narrative, Mr.
Frothingham has done justice to the efforts and exertions of the
successive boards of direction and officers of the Association, to the
skill and disinterestedness of the architect, to the liberality of
distinguished individuals, to the public spirit of the Massachusetts
Charitable Mechanic Association, in promoting a renewed subscription,
and to the patriotic zeal of the ladies of Boston and the vicinity,
in holding a most successful fair. As it would be difficult farther
to condense the information contained in this interesting summary, we
must refer the reader to Mr. Frothingham's work for an adequate account
of the causes which delayed the completion of the monument for nearly
seventeen years, and of the resources and exertions by which the
desired end was finally attained. The last stone was raised to its
place on the morning of the 23d of July, 1842.
It was determined by the directors of the Association, that the
completion of the work should be celebrated in a manner not less
imposing than that in which the laying of the corner-stone had been
celebrated, seventeen years before. The coöperation of Mr. Webster was
again invited, and, notwithstanding the pressure of his engagements as
Secretary of State at Washington, was again patriotically yielded. Many
circumstances conspired to increase the interest of the occasion. The
completion of the monument had been long delayed, but in the interval
the subject had been kept much before the public mind. Mr. Webster's
address on the 17th of June, 1825, had obtained the widest circulation
throughout the country; passages from it had passed into household words
throughout the Union. Wherever they were repeated, they made the Bunker
Hill Monument a familiar thought with the people. Meantime, Boston and
Charlestown had doubled their population, and the multiplication of
railroads in every direction enabled a person, in almost any part of New
England, to reach the metropolis in a day. The President of the United
States and his Cabinet had accepted invitations to be present;
delegations of the descendants of New England were present from the
remotest parts of the Union; one hundred and eight surviving veterans of
the Revolution, among whom were some who were in the battle of Bunker
Hill, imparted a touching interest to the scene.
Every thing conspired to promote the success of the ceremonial. The day
was uncommonly fine; cool for the season, and clear. A large volunteer
force from various parts of the country had assembled for the occasion,
and formed a brilliant escort to an immense procession, as it moved from
Boston to the battle-ground on the hill. The bank which slopes down from
the obelisk on the eastern side of Monument Square was covered with
seats, rising in the form of an amphitheatre, under the open sky. These
had been prepared for ladies, who had assembled in great numbers,
awaiting the arrival of the procession. When it arrived, it was received
into a large open area in front of these seats. Mr. Webster was
stationed upon an elevated platform, in front of the audience and of the
monument towering in the background. According to Mr. Frothingham's
estimate, a hundred thousand persons were gathered about the spot, and
nearly half that number are supposed to have been within the reach of
the orator's voice. The ground rises slightly between the platform and
the Monument Square, so that the whole of this immense concourse,
compactly crowded together, breathless with attention, swayed by one
sentiment of admiration and delight, was within the full view of the
speaker. The position and the occasion were the height of the moral
sublime. "When, after saying, 'It is not from my lips, it could not be
from any human lips, that that strain of eloquence is this day to flow
most competent to move and excite the vast multitude around me,--the
powerful speaker stands motionless before us,' he paused, and pointed in
silent admiration to the sublime structure, the audience burst into long
and loud applause. It was some moments before the speaker could go on
with the address."
THE COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT.[61]
A duty has been performed. A work of gratitude and patriotism is
completed. This structure, having its foundations in soil which drank
deep of early Revolutionary blood, has at length reached its destined
height, and now lifts its summit to the skies.
We have assembled to celebrate the accomplishment of this undertaking,
and to indulge afresh in the recollection of the great event which it is
designed to commemorate. Eighteen years, more than half the ordinary
duration of a generation of mankind, have elapsed since the cornerstone
of this monument was laid. The hopes of its projectors rested on
voluntary contributions, private munificence, and the general favor of
the public. These hopes have not been disappointed. Donations have been
made by individuals, in some cases of large amount, and smaller sums
have been contributed by thousands. All who regard the object itself as
important, and its accomplishment, therefore, as a good attained, will
entertain sincere respect and gratitude for the unwearied efforts of the
successive presidents, boards of directors, and committees of the
Association which has had the general control of the work. The
architect, equally entitled to our thanks and commendation, will find
other reward, also, for his labor and skill, in the beauty and elegance
of the obelisk itself, and the distinction which, as a work of art, it
confers upon him.
At a period when the prospects of further progress in the undertaking
were gloomy and discouraging, the Mechanic Association, by a most
praiseworthy and vigorous effort, raised new funds for carrying it
forward, and saw them applied with fidelity, economy, and skill. It is a
grateful duty to make public acknowledgments of such timely and
efficient aid.
The last effort and the last contribution were from a different source.
Garlands of grace and elegance were destined to crown a work which had
its commencement in manly patriotism. The winning power of the sex
addressed itself to the public, and all that was needed to carry the
monument to its proposed height, and to give to it its finish, was
promptly supplied. The mothers and the daughters of the land contributed
thus, most successfully, to whatever there is of beauty in the monument
itself, or whatever of utility and public benefit and gratification
there is in its completion.
Of those with whom the plan originated of erecting on this spot a
monument worthy of the event to be commemorated, many are now present;
but others, alas! have themselves become subjects of monumental
inscription. William Tudor, an accomplished scholar, a distinguished
writer, a most amiable man, allied both by birth and sentiment to the
patriots of the Revolution, died while on public service abroad, and now
lies buried in a foreign land.[62] William Sullivan, a name fragrant of
Revolutionary merit, and of public service and public virtue, who
himself partook in a high degree of the respect and confidence of the
community, and yet was always most loved where best known, has also been
gathered to his fathers.[63] And last, George Blake, a lawyer of
learning and eloquence, a man of wit and of talent, of social qualities
the most agreeable and fascinating, and of gifts which enabled him to
exercise large sway over public assemblies, has closed his human
career.[63] I know that in the crowds before me there are those from
whose eyes tears will flow at the mention of these names. But such
mention is due to their general character, their public and private
virtues, and especially, on this occasion, to the spirit and zeal with
which they entered into the undertaking which is now completed.
I have spoken only of those who are no longer numbered with the living.
But a long life, now drawing towards its close, always distinguished by
acts of public spirit, humanity, and charity, forming a character which
has already become historical, and sanctified by public regard and the
affection of friends, may confer even on the living the proper immunity
of the dead, and be the fit subject of honorable mention and warm
commendation. Of the early projectors of the design of this monument,
one of the most prominent, the most zealous, and the most efficient, is
Thomas H. Perkins. It was beneath his ever-hospitable roof that those
whom I have mentioned, and others yet living and now present, having
assembled for the purpose, adopted the first step towards erecting a
monument on Bunker Hill. Long may he remain, with unimpaired faculties,
in the wide field of his usefulness! His charities have distilled, like
the dews of heaven; he has fed the hungry, and clothed the naked; he has
given sight to the blind; and for such virtues there is a reward on
high, of which all human memorials, all language of brass and stone, are
but humble types and attempted imitations.
Time and nature have had their course, in diminishing the number of
those whom we met here on the 17th of June, 1825. Most of the
Revolutionary characters then present have since deceased; and Lafayette
sleeps in his native land. Yet the name and blood of Warren are with us;
the kindred of Putnam are also here; and near me, universally beloved
for his character and his virtues, and now venerable for his years, sits
the son of the noble-hearted and daring Prescott.[64] Gideon Foster of
Danvers, Enos Reynolds of Boxford, Phineas Johnson, Robert Andrews,
Elijah Dresser, Josiah Cleaveland, Jesse Smith, Philip Bagley, Needham
Maynard, Roger Plaisted, Joseph Stephens, Nehemiah Porter, and James
Harvey, who bore arms for their country either at Concord and Lexington,
on the 19th of April, or on Bunker Hill, all now far advanced in age,
have come here to-day, to look once more on the field where their valor
was proved, and to receive a hearty outpouring of our respect.
They have long outlived the troubles and dangers of the Revolution;
they have outlived the evils arising from the want of a united and
efficient government; they have outlived the menace of imminent
dangers to the public liberty; they have outlived nearly all their
contemporaries; but they have not outlived, they cannot outlive, the
affectionate gratitude of their country. Heaven has not allotted to this
generation an opportunity of rendering high services, and manifesting
strong personal devotion, such as they rendered and manifested, and
in such a cause as that which roused the patriotic fires of their
youthful breasts, and nerved the strength of their arms. But we may
praise what we cannot equal, and celebrate actions which we were not
born to perform. _Pulchrum est benefacere reipublicæ, etiam bene
dicere haud absurdum est._
The Bunker Hill Monument is finished. Here it stands. Fortunate in the
high natural eminence on which it is placed, higher, infinitely higher
in its objects and purpose, it rises over the land and over the sea;
and, visible, at their homes, to three hundred thousand of the people of
Massachusetts, it stands a memorial of the last, and a monitor to the
present and to all succeeding generations. I have spoken of the
loftiness of its purpose. If it had been without any other design than
the creation of a work of art, the granite of which it is composed would
have slept in its native bed. It has a purpose, and that purpose gives
it its character. That purpose enrobes it with dignity and moral
grandeur. That well-known purpose it is which causes us to look up to it
with a feeling of awe. It is itself the orator of this occasion. It is
not from my lips, it could not be from any human lips, that that strain
of eloquence is this day to flow most competent to move and excite the
vast multitudes around me. The powerful speaker stands motionless before
us. It is a plain shaft. It bears no inscriptions, fronting to the
rising sun, from which the future antiquary shall wipe the dust. Nor
does the rising sun cause tones of music to issue from its summit. But
at the rising of the sun, and at the setting of the sun; in the blaze of
noonday, and beneath the milder effulgence of lunar light; it looks, it
speaks, it acts, to the full comprehension of every American mind, and
the awakening of glowing enthusiasm in every American heart. Its silent,
but awful utterance; its deep pathos, as it brings to our contemplation
the 17th of June, 1775, and the consequences which have resulted to us,
to our country, and to the world, from the events of that day, and which
we know must continue to rain influence on the destinies of mankind to
the end of time; the elevation with which it raises us high above the
ordinary feelings of life, surpass all that the study of the closet, or
even the inspiration of genius, can produce. To-day it speaks to us. Its
future auditories will be the successive generations of men, as they
rise up before it and gather around it. Its speech will be of patriotism
and courage; of civil and religious liberty; of free government; of the
moral improvement and elevation of mankind; and of the immortal memory
of those who, with heroic devotion, have sacrificed their lives for
their country.[65]
In the older world, numerous fabrics still exist, reared by human hands,
but whose object has been lost in the darkness of ages. They are now
monuments of nothing but the labor and skill which constructed them.
The mighty pyramid itself, half buried in the sands of Africa, has
nothing to bring down and report to us, but the power of kings and
the servitude of the people. If it had any purpose beyond that of a
mausoleum, such purpose has perished from history and from tradition. If
asked for its moral object, its admonition, its sentiment, its
instruction to mankind, or any high end in its erection, it is
silent; silent as the millions which lie in the dust at its base,
and in the catacombs which surround it. Without a just moral object,
therefore, made known to man, though raised against the skies, it
excites only conviction of power, mixed with strange wonder. But if the
civilization of the present race of men, founded, as it is, in solid
science, the true knowledge of nature, and vast discoveries in art,
and which is elevated and purified by moral sentiment and by the
truths of Christianity, be not destined to destruction before the final
termination of human existence on earth, the object and purpose of
this edifice will be known till that hour shall come. And even if
civilization should be subverted, and the truths of the Christian
religion obscured by a new deluge of barbarism, the memory of Bunker
Hill and the American Revolution will still be elements and parts of the
knowledge which shall be possessed by the last man to whom the light of
civilization and Christianity shall be extended.
This celebration is honored by the presence of the chief executive
magistrate of the Union. An occasion so national in its object and
character, and so much connected with that Revolution from which the
government sprang at the head of which he is placed, may well receive
from him this mark of attention and respect. Well acquainted with
Yorktown, the scene of the last great military struggle of the
Revolution, his eye now surveys the field of Bunker Hill, the theatre of
the first of those important conflicts. He sees where Warren fell, where
Putnam, and Prescott, and Stark, and Knowlton, and Brooks fought. He
beholds the spot where a thousand trained soldiers of England were
smitten to the earth, in the first effort of revolutionary war, by the
arm of a bold and determined yeomanry, contending for liberty and their
country. And while all assembled here entertain towards him sincere
personal good wishes and the high respect due to his elevated office and
station, it is not to be doubted that he enters, with true American
feeling, into the patriotic enthusiasm kindled by the occasion which
animates the multitudes that surround him.
His Excellency, the Governor of the Commonwealth, the Governor of Rhode
Island, and the other distinguished public men whom we have the honor to
receive as visitors and guests to-day, will cordially unite in a
celebration connected with the great event of the Revolutionary war.
No name in the history of 1775 and 1776 is more distinguished than that
borne by an ex-president of the United States, whom we expected to see
here, but whose ill health prevents his attendance. Whenever popular
rights were to be asserted, an Adams was present; and when the time came
for the formal Declaration of Independence, it was the voice of an Adams
that shook the halls of Congress. We wish we could have welcomed to us
this day the inheritor of Revolutionary blood, and the just and worthy
representative of high Revolutionary names, merit, and services.
Banners and badges, processions and flags, announce to us, that amidst
this uncounted throng are thousands of natives of New England now
residents in other States. Welcome, ye kindred names, with kindred
blood! From the broad savannas of the South, from the newer regions of
the West, from amidst the hundreds of thousands of men of Eastern origin
who cultivate the rich valley of the Genesee or live along the chain of
the Lakes, from the mountains of Pennsylvania, and from the thronged
cities of the coast, welcome, welcome! Wherever else you may be
strangers, here you are all at home. You assemble at this shrine of
liberty, near the family altars at which your earliest devotions were
paid to Heaven; near to the temples of worship first entered by you, and
near to the schools and colleges in which your education was received.
You come hither with a glorious ancestry of liberty. You bring names
which are on the rolls of Lexington, Concord, and Bunker Hill. You come,
some of you, once more to be embraced by an aged Revolutionary father,
or to receive another, perhaps a last, blessing, bestowed in love and
tears, by a mother, yet surviving to witness and to enjoy your
prosperity and happiness.
But if family associations and the recollections of the past bring you
hither with greater alacrity, and mingle with your greeting much of
local attachment and private affection, greeting also be given, free and
hearty greeting, to every American citizen who treads this sacred soil
with patriotic feeling, and respires with pleasure in an atmosphere
perfumed with the recollections of 1775! This occasion is respectable,
nay, it is grand, it is sublime, by the nationality of its sentiment.
Among the seventeen millions of happy people who form the American
community, there is not one who has not an interest in this monument, as
there is not one that has not a deep and abiding interest in that which
it commemorates.
Woe betide the man who brings to this day's worship feeling less than
wholly American! Woe betide the man who can stand here with the fires of
local resentments burning, or the purpose of fomenting local jealousies
and the strifes of local interests festering and rankling in his heart.
Union, established in justice, in patriotism, and the most plain and
obvious common interest,--union, founded on the same love of liberty,
cemented by blood shed in the same common cause,--union has been the
source of all our glory and greatness thus far, and is the ground of all
our highest hopes. This column stands on Union. I know not that it might
not keep its position, if the American Union, in the mad conflict of
human passions, and in the strife of parties and factions, should be
broken up and destroyed. I know not that it would totter and fall to the
earth, and mingle its fragments with the fragments of Liberty and the
Constitution, when State should be separated from State, and faction and
dismemberment obliterate for ever all the hopes of the founders of our
republic, and the great inheritance of their children. It might stand.
But who, from beneath the weight of mortification and shame that would
oppress him, could look up to behold it? Whose eyeballs would not be
seared by such a spectacle? For my part, should I live to such a time, I
shall avert my eyes from it for ever.
It is not as a mere military encounter of hostile armies, that the
battle of Bunker Hill presents its principal claim to attention. Yet,
even as a mere battle, there were circumstances attending it
extraordinary in character, and entitling it to peculiar distinction. It
was fought on this eminence; in the neighborhood of yonder city; in the
presence of many more spectators than there were combatants in the
conflict. Men, women, and children, from every commanding position, were
gazing at the battle, and looking for its results with all the eagerness
natural to those who knew that the issue was fraught with the deepest
consequences to themselves, personally, as well as to their country.
Yet, on the 16th of June, 1775, there was nothing around this hill but
verdure and culture. There was, indeed, the note of awful preparation in
Boston. There was the Provincial army at Cambridge, with its right flank
resting on Dorchester, and its left on Chelsea. But here all was peace.
Tranquillity reigned around. On the 17th every thing was changed. On
this eminence had arisen, in the night, a redoubt, built by Prescott,
and in which he held command. Perceived by the enemy at dawn, it was
immediately cannonaded from the floating batteries in the river, and
from the opposite shore. And then ensued the hurried movement in Boston,
and soon the troops of Britain embarked in the attempt to dislodge the
Colonists. In an hour every thing indicated an immediate and bloody
conflict. Love of liberty on one side, proud defiance of rebellion on
the other; hopes and fears, and courage and daring, on both sides,
animated the hearts of the combatants as they hung on the edge of
battle.
I suppose it would be difficult, in a military point of view, to ascribe
to the leaders on either side any just motive for the engagement which
followed. On the one hand, it could not have been very important to the
Americans to attempt to hem the British within the town, by advancing
one single post a quarter of a mile; while, on the other hand, if the
British found it essential to dislodge the American troops, they had it
in their power at no expense of life. By moving up their ships and
batteries, they could have completely cut off all communication with the
mainland over the Neck, and the forces in the redoubt would have been
reduced to a state of famine in forty-eight hours.
But that was not the day for any such consideration on either side! Both
parties were anxious to try the strength of their arms. The pride of
England would not permit the rebels, as she termed them, to defy her to
the teeth; and, without for a moment calculating the cost, the British
general determined to destroy the fort immediately. On the other side,
Prescott and his gallant followers longed and thirsted for a decisive
trial of strength and of courage. They wished a battle, and wished it at
once. And this is the true secret of the movements on this hill.
I will not attempt to describe that battle. The cannonading; the landing
of the British; their advance; the coolness with which the charge was
met; the repulse; the second attack; the second repulse; the burning of
Charlestown; and, finally, the closing assault, and the slow retreat of
the Americans,--the history of all these is familiar.
But the consequences of the battle of Bunker Hill were greater than
those of any ordinary conflict, although between armies of far greater
force, and terminating with more immediate advantage on the one side or
the other. It was the first great battle of the Revolution; and not only
the first blow, but the blow which determined the contest. It did not,
indeed, put an end to the war, but in the then existing hostile state of
feeling, the difficulties could only be referred to the arbitration of
the sword. And one thing is certain; that after the New England troops
had shown themselves able to face and repulse the regulars, it was
decided that peace never could be established, but upon the basis of the
independence of the Colonies. When the sun of that day went down, the
event of Independence was no longer doubtful. In a few days Washington
heard of the battle, and he inquired if the militia had stood the fire
of the regulars. When told that they had not only stood that fire, but
reserved their own till the enemy was within eight rods, and then
poured it in with tremendous effect, "Then," exclaimed he, "the
liberties of the country are safe!"
The consequences of this battle were just of the same importance as the
Revolution itself.
If there was nothing of value in the principles of the American
Revolution, then there is nothing valuable in the battle of Bunker Hill
and its consequences. But if the Revolution was an era in the history of
man favorable to human happiness, if it was an event which marked the
progress of man all over the world from despotism to liberty, then this
monument is not raised without cause. Then the battle of Bunker Hill is
not an event undeserving celebrations, commemorations, and rejoicings,
now and in all coming times.
What, then, is the true and peculiar principle of the American
Revolution, and of the systems of government which it has confirmed and
established? The truth is, that the American Revolution was not caused
by the instantaneous discovery of principles of government before
unheard of, or the practical adoption of political ideas such as had
never before entered into the minds of men. It was but the full
development of principles of government, forms of society, and political
sentiments, the origin of all which lay back two centuries in English
and American history.
The discovery of America, its colonization by the nations of Europe,
the history and progress of the colonies, from their establishment to
the time when the principal of them threw off their allegiance to the
respective states by which they had been planted, and founded
governments of their own, constitute one of the most interesting
portions of the annals of man. These events occupied three hundred
years; during which period civilization and knowledge made steady
progress in the Old World; so that Europe, at the commencement of
the nineteenth century, had become greatly changed from that Europe
which began the colonization of America at the close of the fifteenth,
or the commencement of the sixteenth. And what is most material to my
present purpose is, that in the progress of the first of these
centuries, that is to say, from the discovery of America to the
settlements of Virginia and Massachusetts, political and religious
events took place, which most materially affected the state of
society and the sentiments of mankind, especially in England and in
parts of Continental Europe. After a few feeble and unsuccessful
efforts by England, under Henry the Seventh, to plant colonies in
America, no designs of that kind were prosecuted for a long period,
either by the English government or any of its subjects. Without
inquiring into the causes of this delay, its consequences are
sufficiently clear and striking. England, in this lapse of a century,
unknown to herself, but under the providence of God and the influence of
events, was fitting herself for the work of colonizing North America,
on such principles and by such men, as should spread the English
name and English blood, in time, over a great portion of the Western
hemisphere. The commercial spirit was greatly fostered by several laws
passed in the reign of Henry the Seventh; and in the same reign
encouragement was given to arts and manufactures in the eastern
counties, and some not unimportant modifications of the feudal system
took place, by allowing the breaking of entails. These and other
measures, and other occurrences, were making way for a new class of
society to emerge, and show itself, in a military and feudal age; a
middle class, between the barons or great landholders and the retainers
of the crown, on the one side, and the tenants of the crown and barons,
and agricultural and other laborers, on the other side. With the rise
and growth of this new class of society, not only did commerce and the
arts increase, but better education, a greater degree of knowledge,
juster notions of the true ends of government, and sentiments
favorable to civil liberty, began to spread abroad, and become more
and more common. But the plants springing from these seeds were of slow
growth. The character of English society had indeed begun to undergo a
change; but changes of national character are ordinarily the work of
time. Operative causes were, however, evidently in existence, and sure
to produce, ultimately, their proper effect. From the accession of
Henry the Seventh to the breaking out of the civil wars, England
enjoyed much greater exemption from war, foreign and domestic, than for
a long period before, and during the controversy between the houses of
York and Lancaster. These years of peace were favorable to commerce
and the arts. Commerce and the arts augmented general and individual
knowledge; and knowledge is the only fountain, both of the love and the
principles of human liberty.
Other powerful causes soon came into active play. The Reformation of
Luther broke out, kindling up the minds of men afresh, leading to new
habits of thought, and awakening in individuals energies before unknown
even to themselves. The religious controversies of this period changed
society, as well as religion; indeed, it would be easy to prove, if this
occasion were proper for it, that they changed society to a considerable
extent, where they did not change the religion of the state. They
changed man himself; in his modes of thought, his consciousness of his
own powers, and his desire of intellectual attainment. The spirit of
commercial and foreign adventure, therefore, on the one hand, which had
gained so much strength and influence since the time of the discovery of
America, and, on the other, the assertion and maintenance of religious
liberty, having their source indeed in the Reformation, but continued,
diversified, and constantly strengthened by the subsequent divisions of
sentiment and opinion among the Reformers themselves, and this love of
religious liberty drawing after it or bringing along with it, as it
always does, an ardent devotion to the principle of civil liberty also,
were the powerful influences under which character was formed and men
trained, for the great work of introducing English civilization, English
law, and what is more than all, Anglo-Saxon blood, into the wilderness
of North America. Raleigh and his companions may be considered as the
creatures, principally, of the first of these causes. High-spirited,
full of the love of personal adventure, excited, too, in some degree, by
the hopes of sudden riches from the discovery of mines of the precious
metals, and not unwilling to diversify the labors of settling a colony
with occasional cruising against the Spaniards in the West Indian seas,
they crossed and recrossed the ocean, with a frequency which surprises
us, when we consider the state of navigation, and which evinces a most
daring spirit.
The other cause peopled New England. The Mayflower sought our shores
under no high-wrought spirit of commercial adventure, no love of gold,
no mixture of purpose warlike or hostile to any human being. Like the
dove from the ark, she had put forth only to find rest. Solemn
supplications on the shore of the sea, in Holland, had invoked for her,
at her departure, the blessings of Providence. The stars which guided
her were the unobscured constellations of civil and religious liberty.
Her deck was the altar of the living God. Fervent prayers on bended
knees, mingled, morning and evening, with the voices of ocean, and the
sighing of the wind in her shrouds. Every prosperous breeze, which,
gently swelling her sails, helped the Pilgrims onward in their course,
awoke new anthems of praise; and when the elements were wrought into
fury, neither the tempest, tossing their fragile bark like a feather,
nor the darkness and howling of the midnight storm, ever disturbed, in
man or woman, the firm and settled purpose of their souls, to undergo
all, and to do all, that the meekest patience, the boldest resolution,
and the highest trust in God could enable human beings to suffer or to
perform.
Some differences may, doubtless, be traced at this day between the
descendants of the early colonists of Virginia and those of New England,
owing to the different influences and different circumstances under
which the respective settlements were made; but only enough to create a
pleasing variety in the midst of a general family resemblance.
"Facies, non omnibus una,
Nec diversa tamen, qualem docet esse sororum."
But the habits, sentiments, and objects of both soon became modified by
local causes, growing out of their condition in the New World; and as
this condition was essentially alike in both, and as both at once
adopted the same general rules and principles of English jurisprudence,
and became accustomed to the authority of representative bodies, these
differences gradually diminished. They disappeared by the progress of
time, and the influence of intercourse. The necessity of some degree of
union and coöperation to defend themselves against the savage tribes,
tended to excite in them mutual respect and regard. They fought together
in the wars against France. The great and common cause of the Revolution
bound them to one another by new links of brotherhood; and at length the
present constitution of government united them happily and gloriously,
to form the great republic of the world, and bound up their interests
and fortunes, till the whole earth sees that there is now for them, in
present possession as well as in future hope, but "One Country, One
Constitution, and One Destiny."
The colonization of the tropical region, and the whole of the southern
parts of the continent, by Spain and Portugal, was conducted on other
principles, under the influence of other motives, and followed by far
different consequences. From the time of its discovery, the Spanish
government pushed forward its settlements in America, not only with
vigor, but with eagerness; so that long before the first permanent
English settlement had been accomplished in what is now the United
States, Spain had conquered Mexico, Peru, and Chili, and stretched her
power over nearly all the territory she ever acquired on this continent.
The rapidity of these conquests is to be ascribed in a great degree to
the eagerness, not to say the rapacity, of those numerous bands of
adventurers, who were stimulated by individual interests and private
hopes to subdue immense regions, and take possession of them in the name
of the crown of Spain. The mines of gold and silver were the incitements
to these efforts, and accordingly settlements were generally made, and
Spanish authority established immediately on the subjugation of
territory, that the native population might be set to work by their new
Spanish masters in the mines. From these facts, the love of gold--gold,
not produced by industry, nor accumulated by commerce, but gold dug from
its native bed in the bowels of the earth, and that earth ravished from
its rightful possessors by every possible degree of enormity, cruelty,
and crime--was long the governing passion in Spanish wars and Spanish
settlements in America. Even Columbus himself did not wholly escape the
influence of this base motive. In his early voyages we find him passing
from island to island, inquiring everywhere for gold; as if God had
opened the New World to the knowledge of the Old, only to gratify a
passion equally senseless and sordid, and to offer up millions of an
unoffending race of men to the destruction of the sword, sharpened both
by cruelty and rapacity. And yet Columbus was far above his age and
country. Enthusiastic, indeed, but sober, religious, and magnanimous;
born to great things and capable of high sentiments, as his noble
discourse before Ferdinand and Isabella, as well as the whole history of
his life, shows. Probably he sacrificed much to the known sentiments of
others, and addressed to his followers motives likely to influence them.
At the same time, it is evident that he himself looked upon the world
which he discovered as a world of wealth, all ready to be seized and
enjoyed.
The conquerors and the European settlers of Spanish America were mainly
military commanders and common soldiers. The monarchy of Spain was not
transferred to this hemisphere, but it acted in it, as it acted at home,
through its ordinary means, and its true representative, military force.
The robbery and destruction of the native race was the achievement of
standing armies, in the right of the king, and by his authority,
fighting in his name, for the aggrandizement of his power and the
extension of his prerogatives, with military ideas under arbitrary
maxims,--a portion of that dreadful instrumentality by which a perfect
despotism governs a people. As there was no liberty in Spain, how could
liberty be transmitted to Spanish colonies?
The colonists of English America were of the people, and a people
already free. They were of the middle, industrious, and already
prosperous class, the inhabitants of commercial and manufacturing
cities, among whom liberty first revived and respired, after a sleep of
a thousand years in the bosom of the Dark Ages. Spain descended on the
New World in the armed and terrible image of her monarchy and her
soldiery; England approached it in the winning and popular garb of
personal rights, public protection, and civil freedom. England
transplanted liberty to America; Spain transplanted power. England,
through the agency of private companies and the efforts of individuals,
colonized this part of North America by industrious individuals, making
their own way in the wilderness, defending themselves against the
savages, recognizing their right to the soil, and with a general honest
purpose of introducing knowledge as well as Christianity among them.
Spain stooped on South America, like a vulture on its prey. Every thing
was force. Territories were acquired by fire and sword. Cities were
destroyed by fire and sword. Hundreds of thousands of human beings fell
by fire and sword. Even conversion to Christianity was attempted by fire
and sword.
Behold, then, fellow-citizens, the difference resulting from the
operation of the two principles! Here, to-day, on the summit of Bunker
Hill, and at the foot of this monument, behold the difference! I would
that the fifty thousand voices present could proclaim it with a shout
which should be heard over the globe. Our inheritance was of liberty,
secured and regulated by law, and enlightened by religion and
knowledge; that of South America was of power, stern, unrelenting,
tyrannical, military power. And now look to the consequences of the two
principles on the general and aggregate happiness of the human race.
Behold the results, in all the regions conquered by Cortéz and Pizarro,
and the contrasted results here. I suppose the territory of the United
States may amount to one eighth, or one tenth, of that colonized by
Spain on this continent; and yet in all that vast region there are but
between one and two millions of people of European color and European
blood, while in the United States there are fourteen millions who
rejoice in their descent from the people of the more northern part of
Europe.
But we may follow the difference in the original principle of
colonization, and in its character and objects, still further. We
must look to moral and intellectual results; we must consider
consequences, not only as they show themselves in hastening or
retarding the increase of population and the supply of physical wants,
but in their civilization, improvement, and happiness. We must inquire
what progress has been made in the true science of liberty, in the
knowledge of the great principles of self-government, and in the
progress of man, as a social, moral, and religious being.
I would not willingly say any thing on this occasion discourteous to the
new governments founded on the demolition of the power of the Spanish
monarchy. They are yet on their trial, and I hope for a favorable
result. But truth, sacred truth, and fidelity to the cause of civil
liberty, compel me to say, that hitherto they have discovered quite too
much of the spirit of that monarchy from which they separated
themselves. Quite too frequent resort is made to military force; and
quite too much of the substance of the people is consumed in maintaining
armies, not for defence against foreign aggression, but for enforcing
obedience to domestic authority. Standing armies are the oppressive
instruments for governing the people, in the hands of hereditary and
arbitrary monarchs. A military republic, a government founded on mock
elections, and supported only by the sword, is a movement indeed, but a
retrograde and disastrous movement, from the regular and old-fashioned
monarchical systems. If men would enjoy the blessings of republican
government, they must govern themselves by reason, by mutual counsel
and consultation, by a sense and feeling of general interest, and by the
acquiescence of the minority in the will of the majority, properly
expressed; and, above all, the military must be kept, according to the
language of our Bill of Rights, in strict subordination to the civil
authority. Wherever this lesson is not both learned and practised, there
can be no political freedom. Absurd, preposterous is it, a scoff and a
satire on free forms of constitutional liberty, for frames of government
to be prescribed by military leaders, and the right of suffrage to be
exercised at the point of the sword.
Making all allowance for situation and climate, it cannot be doubted by
intelligent minds, that the difference now existing between North and
South America is justly attributable, in a great degree, to political
institutions in the Old World and in the New. And how broad that
difference is! Suppose an assembly, in one of the valleys or on the side
of one of the mountains of the southern half of the hemisphere, to be
held, this day, in the neighborhood of a large city;--what would be the
scene presented? Yonder is a volcano, flaming and smoking, but shedding
no light, moral or intellectual. At its foot is the mine, sometimes
yielding, perhaps, large gains to capital, but in which labor is
destined to eternal and unrequited toil, and followed only by penury and
beggary. The city is filled with armed men; not a free people, armed and
coming forth voluntarily to rejoice in a public festivity, but hireling
troops, supported by forced loans, excessive impositions on commerce, or
taxes wrung from a half-fed and a half-clothed population. For the great
there are palaces covered with gold; for the poor there are hovels of
the meanest sort. There is an ecclesiastical hierarchy, enjoying the
wealth of princes; but there are no means of education for the people.
Do public improvements favor intercourse between place and place? So far
from this, the traveller cannot pass from town to town, without danger,
every mile, of robbery and assassination. I would not overcharge or
exaggerate this picture; but its principal features are all too truly
sketched.
And how does it contrast with the scene now actually before us? Look
round upon these fields; they are verdant and beautiful, well
cultivated, and at this moment loaded with the riches of the early
harvest. The hands which till them are those of the free owners of the
soil, enjoying equal rights, and protected by law from oppression and
tyranny. Look to the thousand vessels in our sight, filling the harbor,
or covering the neighboring sea. They are the vehicles of a profitable
commerce, carried on by men who know that the profits of their hardy
enterprise, when they make them, are their own; and this commerce is
encouraged and regulated by wise laws, and defended, when need be, by
the valor and patriotism of the country. Look to that fair city, the
abode of so much diffused wealth, so much general happiness and comfort,
so much personal independence, and so much general knowledge, and not
undistinguished, I may be permitted to add, for hospitality and social
refinement. She fears no forced contributions, no siege or sacking from
military leaders of rival factions. The hundred temples in which her
citizens worship God are in no danger of sacrilege. The regular
administration of the laws encounters no obstacle. The long processions
of children and youth, which you see this day, issuing by thousands from
her free schools, prove the care and anxiety with which a popular
government provides for the education and morals of the people.
Everywhere there is order; everywhere there is security. Everywhere the
law reaches to the highest and reaches to the lowest, to protect all in
their rights, and to restrain all from wrong; and over all hovers
liberty; that liberty for which our fathers fought and fell on this very
spot, with her eye ever watchful, and her eagle wing ever wide
outspread.
The colonies of Spain, from their origin to their end, were subject to
the sovereign authority of the mother country. Their government, as well
as their commerce, was a strict home monopoly. If we add to this the
established usage of filling important posts in the administration of
the colonies exclusively by natives of Old Spain, thus cutting off for
ever all hopes of honorable preferment from every man born in the
Western hemisphere, causes enough rise up before us at once to account
fully for the subsequent history and character of these provinces. The
viceroys and provincial governors of Spain were never at home in their
governments in America. They did not feel that they were of the people
whom they governed. Their official character and employment have a good
deal of resemblance to those of the proconsuls of Rome, in Asia,
Sicily, and Gaul; but obviously no resemblance to those of Carver and
Winthrop, and very little to those of the governors of Virginia after
that Colony had established a popular House of Burgesses.
The English colonists in America, generally speaking, were men who
were seeking new homes in a new world. They brought with them their
families and all that was most dear to them. This was especially the
case with the colonists of Plymouth and Massachusetts. Many of them
were educated men, and all possessed their full share, according to
their social condition, of the knowledge and attainments of that
age. The distinctive characteristic of their settlement is the
introduction of the civilization of Europe into a wilderness, without
bringing with it the political institutions of Europe. The arts,
sciences, and literature of England came over with the settlers. That
great portion of the common law which regulates the social and
personal relations and conduct of men, came also. The jury came; the
_habeas corpus_ came; the testamentary power came; and the law of
inheritance and descent came also, except that part of it which
recognizes the rights of primogeniture, which either did not come at
all, or soon gave way to the rule of equal partition of estates among
children. But the monarchy did not come, nor the aristocracy, nor the
church, as an estate of the realm. Political institutions were to be
framed anew, such as should be adapted to the state of things. But it
could not be doubtful what should be the nature and character of
these institutions. A general social equality prevailed among the
settlers, and an equality of political rights seemed the natural, if
not the necessary consequence. After forty years of revolution,
violence, and war, the people of France have placed at the head of the
fundamental instrument of their government, as the great boon
obtained by all their sufferings and sacrifices, the declaration that
all Frenchmen are equal before the law. What France has reached only
by the expenditure of so much blood and treasure, and the perpetration
of so much crime, the English colonists obtained by simply changing
their place, carrying with them the intellectual and moral culture of
Europe, and the personal and social relations to which they were
accustomed, but leaving behind their political institutions. It has
been said with much vivacity, that the felicity of the American
colonists consisted in their escape from the past. This is true so far
as respects political establishments, but no further. They brought
with them a full portion of all the riches of the past, in science, in
art, in morals, religion, and literature. The Bible came with them.
And it is not to be doubted, that to the free and universal reading of
the Bible, in that age, men were much indebted for right views of civil
liberty. The Bible is a book of faith, and a book of doctrine, and a
book of morals, and a book of religion, of especial revelation from
God; but it is also a book which teaches man his own individual
responsibility, his own dignity, and his equality with his fellow-man.
Bacon and Locke, and Shakspeare and Milton, also came with the
colonists. It was the object of the first settlers to form new political
systems, but all that belonged to cultivated man, to family, to
neighborhood, to social relations, accompanied them. In the Doric phrase
of one of our own historians, "they came to settle on bare creation";
but their settlement in the wilderness, nevertheless, was not a
lodgement of nomadic tribes, a mere resting-place of roaming savages. It
was the beginning of a permanent community, the fixed residence of
cultivated men. Not only was English literature read, but English, good
English, was spoken and written, before the axe had made way to let in
the sun upon the habitations and fields of Plymouth and Massachusetts.
And whatever may be said to the contrary, a correct use of the English
language is, at this day, more general throughout the United States,
than it is throughout England herself.
But another grand characteristic is, that, in the English colonies,
political affairs were left to be managed by the colonists themselves.
This is another fact wholly distinguishing them in character, as it has
distinguished them in fortune, from the colonists of Spain. Here lies
the foundation of that experience in self-government, which has
preserved order, and security, and regularity, amidst the play of
popular institutions. Home government was the secret of the prosperity
of the North American settlements. The more distinguished of the New
England colonists, with a most remarkable sagacity and a long-sighted
reach into futurity, refused to come to America unless they could bring
with them charters providing for the administration of their affairs in
this country.[66] They saw from the first the evils of being governed in
the New World by a power fixed in the Old. Acknowledging the general
superiority of the crown, they still insisted on the right of passing
local laws, and of local administration. And history teaches us the
justice and the value of this determination in the example of Virginia.
The early attempts to settle that Colony failed, sometimes with the most
melancholy and fatal consequences, from want of knowledge, care, and
attention on the part of those who had the charge of their affairs in
England; and it was only after the issuing of the third charter, that
its prosperity fairly commenced. The cause was, that by that third
charter the people of Virginia, for by this time they deserve to be so
called, were allowed to constitute and establish the first popular
representative assembly which ever convened on this continent, the
Virginia House of Burgesses.
The great elements, then, of the American system of government,
originally introduced by the colonists, and which were early in
operation, and ready to be developed, more and more, as the progress of
events should justify or demand, were,--
Escape from the existing political systems of Europe, including its
religious hierarchies, but the continued possession and enjoyment of its
science and arts, its literature, and its manners;
Home government, or the power of making in the colony the municipal laws
which were to govern it;
Equality of rights;
Representative assemblies, or forms of government founded on popular
elections.
* * * * *
Few topics are more inviting, or more fit for philosophical discussion,
than the effect on the happiness of mankind of institutions founded upon
these principles; or, in other words, the influence of the New World
upon the Old.
Her obligations to Europe for science and art, laws, literature, and
manners, America acknowledges as she ought, with respect and gratitude.
The people of the United States, descendants of the English stock,
grateful for the treasures of knowledge derived from their English
ancestors, admit also, with thanks and filial regard, that among those
ancestors, under the culture of Hampden and Sydney and other assiduous
friends, that seed of popular liberty first germinated, which on our
soil has shot up to its full height, until its branches overshadow all
the land.
But America has not failed to make returns. If she has not wholly
cancelled the obligation, or equalled it by others of like weight, she
has, at least, made respectable advances towards repaying the debt. And
she admits, that, standing in the midst of civilized nations, and in a
civilized age, a nation among nations, there is a high part which she is
expected to act, for the general advancement of human interests and
human welfare.
American mines have filled the mints of Europe with the precious metals.
The productions of the American soil and climate have poured out their
abundance of luxuries for the tables of the rich, and of necessaries for
the sustenance of the poor. Birds and animals of beauty and value have
been added to the European stocks; and transplantations from the
unequalled riches of our forests have mingled themselves profusely with
the elms, and ashes, and Druidical oaks of England.
America has made contributions to Europe far more important. Who can
estimate the amount, or the value, of the augmentation of the commerce
of the world that has resulted from America? Who can imagine to himself
what would now be the shock to the Eastern Continent, if the Atlantic
were no longer traversable, or if there were no longer American
productions, or American markets?
But America exercises influences, or holds out examples, for the
consideration of the Old World, of a much higher, because they are of a
moral and political character.
America has furnished to Europe proof of the fact, that popular
institutions, founded on equality and the principle of representation,
are capable of maintaining governments, able to secure the rights of
person, property, and reputation.
America has proved that it is practicable to elevate the mass of
mankind,--that portion which in Europe is called the laboring, or lower
class,--to raise them to self-respect, to make them competent to act a
part in the great right and great duty of self-government; and she has
proved that this may be done by education and the diffusion of
knowledge. She holds out an example, a thousand times more encouraging
than ever was presented before, to those nine tenths of the human race
who are born without hereditary fortune or hereditary rank.
America has furnished to the world the character of Washington! And if
our American institutions had done nothing else, that alone would have
entitled them to the respect of mankind.
Washington! "First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of
his countrymen!" Washington is all our own! The enthusiastic veneration
and regard in which the people of the United States hold him prove them
to be worthy of such a countryman; while his reputation abroad reflects
the highest honor on his country. I would cheerfully put the question
to-day to the intelligence of Europe and the world, what character of
the century, upon the whole, stands out in the relief of history, most
pure, most respectable, most sublime; and I doubt not, that, by a
suffrage approaching to unanimity, the answer would be Washington!
The structure now standing before us, by its uprightness, its solidity,
its durability, is no unfit emblem of his character. His public virtues
and public principles were as firm as the earth on which it stands; his
personal motives, as pure as the serene heaven in which its summit is
lost. But, indeed, though a fit, it is an inadequate emblem. Towering
high above the column which our hands have builded, beheld, not by the
inhabitants of a single city or a single State, but by all the families
of man, ascends the colossal grandeur of the character and life of
Washington. In all the constituents of the one, in all the acts of the
other, in all its titles to immortal love, admiration, and renown, it is
an American production. It is the embodiment and vindication of our
Transatlantic liberty. Born upon our soil, of parents also born upon it;
never for a moment having had sight of the Old World; instructed,
according to the modes of his time, only in the spare, plain, but
wholesome elementary knowledge which our institutions provide for the
children of the people; growing up beneath and penetrated by the genuine
influences of American society; living from infancy to manhood and age
amidst our expanding, but not luxurious civilization; partaking in our
great destiny of labor, our long contest with unreclaimed nature and
uncivilized man, our agony of glory, the war of Independence, our great
victory of peace, the formation of the Union, and the establishment of
the Constitution; he is all, all our own! Washington is ours. That
crowded and glorious life,
"Where multitudes of virtues passed along,
Each pressing foremost, in the mighty throng
Ambitious to be seen, then making room
For greater multitudes that were to come,"--
that life was the life of an American citizen.
I claim him for America. In all the perils, in every darkened moment of
the state, in the midst of the reproaches of enemies and the misgiving
of friends, I turn to that transcendent name for courage and for
consolation. To him who denies or doubts whether our fervid liberty can
be combined with law, with order, with the security of property, with
the pursuits and advancement of happiness; to him who denies that our
forms of government are capable of producing exaltation of soul, and the
passion of true glory; to him who denies that we have contributed any
thing to the stock of great lessons and great examples;--to all these I
reply by pointing to Washington!
* * * * *
And now, friends and fellow-citizens, it is time to bring this discourse
to a close.
We have indulged in gratifying recollections of the past, in the
prosperity and pleasures of the present, and in high hopes for the
future. But let us remember that we have duties and obligations to
perform, corresponding to the blessings which we enjoy. Let us remember
the trust, the sacred trust, attaching to the rich inheritance which we
have received from our fathers. Let us feel our personal responsibility,
to the full extent of our power and influence, for the preservation of
the principles of civil and religious liberty. And let us remember that
it is only religion, and morals, and knowledge, that can make men
respectable and happy, under any form of government. Let us hold fast
the great truth, that communities are responsible, as well as
individuals; that no government is respectable, which is not just; that
without unspotted purity of public faith, without sacred public
principle, fidelity, and honor, no mere forms of government, no
machinery of laws, can give dignity to political society. In our day and
generation let us seek to raise and improve the moral sentiment, so
that we may look, not for a degraded, but for an elevated and improved
future. And when both we and our children shall have been consigned to
the house appointed for all living, may love of country and pride of
country glow with equal fervor among those to whom our names and our
blood shall have descended! And then, when honored and decrepit age
shall lean against the base of this monument, and troops of ingenuous
youth shall be gathered round it, and when the one shall speak to the
other of its objects, the purposes of its construction, and the great
and glorious events with which it is connected, there shall rise from
every youthful breast the ejaculation, "Thank God, I--I also--AM AN
AMERICAN!"
FOOTNOTES
[61] An Address delivered on Bunker Hill, on the 17th of June, 1843.
[62] William Tudor died at Rio de Janeiro, as Chargé d'Affaires of the
United States, in 1830.
[63] William Sullivan died in Boston in 1839, George Blake in 1841,
both gentlemen of great political and legal eminence.
[64] William Prescott (since deceased, in 1844), son of Colonel William
Prescott, who commanded on the 17th of June, 1775, and father of
William H. Prescott, the historian.
[65] See the Note at the end of the Address.
[66] See the "Records of the Company of the Massachusetts Bay in New
England," as published in the third volume of the Transactions
of the American Antiquarian Society, pp. 47-50.
NOTE.
Page 87.
The following description of the Bunker Hill Monument and Square is from
Mr. Frothingham's History of the Siege of Boston, pp. 355, 356.
"Monument Square is four hundred and seventeen feet from north to
south, and four hundred feet from east to west, and contains nearly
six acres. It embraces the whole site of the redoubt, and a part of
the site of the breastwork. According to the most accurate plan of
the town and the battle (Page's), the monument stands where the
southwest angle of the redoubt was, and the whole of the redoubt was
between the monument and the street that bounds it on the west. The
small mound in the northeast corner of the square is supposed to be
the remains of the breastwork. Warren fell about two hundred feet
west of the monument. An iron fence incloses the square, and another
surrounds the monument. The square has entrances on each of its
sides, and at each of its corners, and is surrounded by a walk and
rows of trees.
"The obelisk is thirty feet in diameter at the base, about fifteen
feet at the top of the truncated part, and was designed to be two
hundred and twenty feet high; but the mortar and the seams between
the stones make the precise height two hundred and twenty-one feet.
Within the shaft is a hollow cone, with a spiral stairway winding
round it to its summit, which enters a circular chamber at the top.
There are ninety courses of stone in the shaft,--six of them below
the ground, and eighty-four above the ground. The capstone, or apex,
is a single stone, four feet square at the base, and three feet six
inches in height, weighing two and a half tons."
ADAMS AND JEFFERSON.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
Since the decease of General Washington, on the 14th of December, 1799,
the public mind has never been so powerfully affected in this part of
the country by any similar event, as by the death of John Adams, on the
4th of July, 1826. The news reached Boston in the evening of that day.
The decease of this venerable fellow-citizen must at all times have
appealed with much force to the patriotic sympathies of the people of
Massachusetts. It acquired a singular interest from the year and the day
on which it took place;--the 4th of July of the year completing the half
century from that ever memorable era in the history of this country and
the world, the Declaration of Independence; a measure in which Mr. Adams
himself had taken so distinguished a part. The emotions of the public
were greatly increased by the indications given by Mr. Adams in his last
hours, that he was fully aware that the day was the anniversary of
Independence, and by his dying allusion to the supposed fact that his
colleague, Jefferson, survived him. When, in the course of a few days,
the news arrived from Virginia, that he also had departed this life, on
the same day and a few hours before Mr. Adams, the sensibility of the
community, as of the country at large, was touched beyond all example.
The occurrence was justly deemed without a parallel in history. The
various circumstances of association and coincidence which marked the
characters and careers of these great men, and especially those of their
simultaneous decease on the 4th of July, were dwelt upon with melancholy
but untiring interest. The circles of private life, the press, public
bodies, and the pulpit, were for some time almost engrossed with the
topic; and solemn rites of commemoration were performed throughout the
country.
An early day was appointed for this purpose by the City Council of
Boston. The whole community manifested its sympathy in the extraordinary
event; and on the 2d of August, 1826, at the request of the municipal
authorities, and in the presence of an immense audience, the following
Discourse was delivered in Faneuil Hall.
ADAMS AND JEFFERSON.[67]
This is an unaccustomed spectacle. For the first time, fellow-citizens,
badges of mourning shroud the columns and overhang the arches of this
hall. These walls, which were consecrated, so long ago, to the cause of
American liberty, which witnessed her infant struggles, and rung with
the shouts of her earliest victories, proclaim, now, that distinguished
friends and champions of that great cause have fallen. It is right that
it should be thus. The tears which flow, and the honors that are paid,
when the founders of the republic die, give hope that the republic
itself may be immortal. It is fit that, by public assembly and solemn
observance, by anthem and by eulogy, we commemorate the services of
national benefactors, extol their virtues, and render thanks to God for
eminent blessings, early given and long continued, through their agency,
to our favored country.
ADAMS and JEFFERSON are no more; and we are assembled, fellow-citizens,
the aged, the middle-aged, and the young, by the spontaneous impulse of
all, under the authority of the municipal government, with the
presence of the chief magistrate of the Commonwealth, and others its
official representatives, the University, and the learned societies,
to bear our part in those manifestations of respect and gratitude which
pervade the whole land. ADAMS and JEFFERSON are no more. On our
fiftieth anniversary, the great day of national jubilee, in the very
hour of public rejoicing, in the midst of echoing and reëchoing voices
of thanksgiving, while their own names were on all tongues, they took
their flight together to the world of spirits.
If it be true that no one can safely be pronounced happy while he lives,
if that event which terminates life can alone crown its honors and its
glory, what felicity is here! The great epic of their lives, how happily
concluded! Poetry itself has hardly terminated illustrious lives, and
finished the career of earthly renown, by such a consummation. If we had
the power, we could not wish to reverse this dispensation of the Divine
Providence. The great objects of life were accomplished, the drama was
ready to be closed. It has closed; our patriots have fallen; but so
fallen, at such age, with such coincidence, on such a day, that we
cannot rationally lament that that end has come, which we knew could not
be long deferred.
Neither of these great men, fellow-citizens, could have died, at any
time, without leaving an immense void in our American society. They
have been so intimately, and for so long a time, blended with the
history of the country, and especially so united, in our thoughts
and recollections, with the events of the Revolution, that the death of
either would have touched the chords of public sympathy. We should have
felt that one great link, connecting us with former times, was broken;
that we had lost something more, as it were, of the presence of the
Revolution itself, and of the act of independence, and were driven
on, by another great remove from the days of our country's early
distinction, to meet posterity, and to mix with the future. Like the
mariner, whom the currents of the ocean and the winds carry along,
till he sees the stars which have directed his course and lighted his
pathless way descend, one by one, beneath the rising horizon, we
should have felt that the stream of time had borne us onward till
another great luminary, whose light had cheered us and whose guidance
we had followed, had sunk away from our sight.
But the concurrence of their death on the anniversary of Independence
has naturally awakened stronger emotions. Both had been Presidents, both
had lived to great age, both were early patriots, and both were
distinguished and ever honored by their immediate agency in the act of
independence. It cannot but seem striking and extraordinary, that these
two should live to see the fiftieth year from the date of that act; that
they should complete that year; and that then, on the day which had fast
linked for ever their own fame with their country's glory, the heavens
should open to receive them both at once. As their lives themselves were
the gifts of Providence, who is not willing to recognize in their happy
termination, as well as in their long continuance, proofs that our
country and its benefactors are objects of His care?
ADAMS and JEFFERSON, I have said, are no more. As human beings, indeed,
they are no more. They are no more, as in 1776, bold and fearless
advocates of independence; no more, as at subsequent periods, the head
of the government; no more, as we have recently seen them, aged and
venerable objects of admiration and regard. They are no more. They
are dead. But how little is there of the great and good which can die!
To their country they yet live, and live for ever. They live in all
that perpetuates the remembrance of men on earth; in the recorded proofs
of their own great actions, in the offspring of their intellect, in
the deep-engraved lines of public gratitude, and in the respect and
homage of mankind. They live in their example; and they live,
emphatically, and will live, in the influence which their lives and
efforts, their principles and opinions, now exercise, and will continue
to exercise, on the affairs of men, not only in their own country,
but throughout the civilized world. A superior and commanding human
intellect, a truly great man, when Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift,
is not a temporary flame, burning brightly for a while, and then
giving place to returning darkness. It is rather a spark of fervent
heat, as well as radiant light, with power to enkindle the common
mass of human mind; so that when it glimmers in its own decay, and
finally goes out in death, no night follows, but it leaves the world all
light, all on fire, from the potent contact of its own spirit. Bacon
died; but the human understanding, roused by the touch of his
miraculous wand to a perception of the true philosophy and the just
mode of inquiring after truth, has kept on its course successfully and
gloriously. Newton died; yet the courses of the spheres are still
known, and they yet move on by the laws which he discovered, and in
the orbits which he saw, and described for them, in the infinity of
space.
No two men now live, fellow-citizens, perhaps it may be doubted whether
any two men have ever lived in one age, who, more than those we now
commemorate, have impressed on mankind their own sentiments in regard to
politics and government, infused their own opinions more deeply into
the opinions of others, or given a more lasting direction to the current
of human thought. Their work doth not perish with them. The tree which
they assisted to plant will flourish, although they water it and protect
it no longer; for it has struck its roots deep, it has sent them to the
very centre; no storm, not of force to burst the orb, can overturn it;
its branches spread wide; they stretch their protecting arms broader and
broader, and its top is destined to reach the heavens. We are not
deceived. There is no delusion here. No age will come in which the
American Revolution will appear less than it is, one of the greatest
events in human history. No age will come in which it shall cease to be
seen and felt, on either continent, that a mighty step, a great advance,
not only in American affairs, but in human affairs, was made on the 4th
of July, 1776. And no age will come, we trust, so ignorant or so unjust
as not to see and acknowledge the efficient agency of those we now honor
in producing that momentous event.
We are not assembled, therefore, fellow-citizens, as men overwhelmed
with calamity by the sudden disruption of the ties of friendship or
affection, or as in despair for the republic by the untimely blighting
of its hopes. Death has not surprised us by an unseasonable blow. We
have, indeed, seen the tomb close, but it has closed only over mature
years, over long-protracted public service, over the weakness of age,
and over life itself only when the ends of living had been fulfilled.
These suns, as they rose slowly and steadily, amidst clouds and storms,
in their ascendant, so they have not rushed from their meridian to sink
suddenly in the west. Like the mildness, the serenity, the continuing
benignity of a summer's day, they have gone down with slow-descending,
grateful, long-lingering light; and now that they are beyond the visible
margin of the world, good omens cheer us from "the bright track of their
fiery car"!
There were many points of similarity in the lives and fortunes of these
great men. They belonged to the same profession, and had pursued its
studies and its practice, for unequal lengths of time indeed, but with
diligence and effect. Both were learned and able lawyers. They were
natives and inhabitants, respectively, of those two of the Colonies
which at the Revolution were the largest and most powerful, and which
naturally had a lead in the political affairs of the times. When the
Colonies became in some degree united, by the assembling of a general
Congress, they were brought to act together in its deliberations, not
indeed at the same time, but both at early periods. Each had already
manifested his attachment to the cause of the country, as well as his
ability to maintain it, by printed addresses, public speeches, extensive
correspondence, and whatever other mode could be adopted for the purpose
of exposing the encroachments of the British Parliament, and animating
the people to a manly resistance. Both were not only decided, but early,
friends of Independence. While others yet doubted, they were resolved;
where others hesitated, they pressed forward. They were both members of
the committee for preparing the Declaration of Independence, and they
constituted the sub-committee appointed by the other members to make the
draft. They left their seats in Congress, being called to other public
employments, at periods not remote from each other, although one of them
returned to it afterwards for a short time. Neither of them was of the
assembly of great men which formed the present Constitution, and neither
was at any time a member of Congress under its provisions. Both have
been public ministers abroad, both Vice-Presidents and both Presidents
of the United States. These coincidences are now singularly crowned and
completed. They have died together; and they died on the anniversary of
liberty.
When many of us were last in this place, fellow-citizens, it was on the
day of that anniversary. We were met to enjoy the festivities belonging
to the occasion, and to manifest our grateful homage to our political
fathers. We did not, we could not here, forget our venerable neighbor of
Quincy. We knew that we were standing, at a time of high and palmy
prosperity, where he had stood in the hour of utmost peril; that we saw
nothing but liberty and security, where he had met the frown of power;
that we were enjoying every thing, where he had hazarded every thing;
and just and sincere plaudits rose to his name, from the crowds which
filled this area, and hung over these galleries. He whose grateful duty
it was to speak to us,[68] on that day, of the virtues of our fathers,
had, indeed, admonished us that time and years were about to level his
venerable frame with the dust. But he bade us hope that "the sound of a
nation's joy, rushing from our cities, ringing from our valleys, echoing
from our hills, might yet break the silence of his aged ear; that the
rising blessings of grateful millions might yet visit with glad light
his decaying vision." Alas! that vision was then closing for ever. Alas!
the silence which was then settling on that aged ear was an everlasting
silence! For, lo! in the very moment of our festivities, his freed
spirit ascended to God who gave it! Human aid and human solace terminate
at the grave; or we would gladly have borne him upward, on a nation's
outspread hands; we would have accompanied him, and with the blessings
of millions and the prayers of millions, commended him to the Divine
favor.
While still indulging our thoughts, on the coincidence of the death of
this venerable man with the anniversary of Independence, we learn that
Jefferson, too, has fallen; and that these aged patriots, these
illustrious fellow-laborers, have left our world together. May not such
events raise the suggestion that they are not undesigned, and that
Heaven does so order things, as sometimes to attract strongly the
attention and excite the thoughts of men? The occurrence has added new
interest to our anniversary, and will be remembered in all time to
come.
* * * * *
The occasion, fellow-citizens, requires some account of the lives and
services of JOHN ADAMS and THOMAS JEFFERSON. This duty must necessarily
be performed with great brevity, and in the discharge of it I shall be
obliged to confine myself, principally, to those parts of their history
and character which belonged to them as public men.
JOHN ADAMS was born at Quincy, then part of the ancient town of
Braintree, on the 19th day of October (old style), 1735. He was a
descendant of the Puritans, his ancestors having early emigrated
from England, and settled in Massachusetts. Discovering in childhood
a strong love of reading and of knowledge, together with marks of
great strength and activity of mind, proper care was taken by his
worthy father to provide for his education. He pursued his youthful
studies in Braintree, under Mr. Marsh, a teacher whose fortune it
was that Josiah Quincy, Jr., as well as the subject of these remarks,
should receive from him his instruction in the rudiments of classical
literature. Having been admitted, in 1751, a member of Harvard
College, Mr. Adams was graduated, in course, in 1755; and on the
catalogue of that institution, his name, at the time of his death, was
second among the living Alumni, being preceded only by that of the
venerable Holyoke. With what degree of reputation he left the
University is not now precisely known. We know only that he was
distinguished in a class which numbered Locke and Hemmenway among its
members. Choosing the law for his profession, he commenced and
prosecuted its studies at Worcester, under the direction of Samuel
Putnam, a gentleman whom he has himself described as an acute man, an
able and learned lawyer, and as being in large professional practice at
that time. In 1758 he was admitted to the bar, and entered upon the
practice of the law in Braintree. He is understood to have made his
first considerable effort, or to have attained his first signal
success, at Plymouth, on one of those occasions which furnish the
earliest opportunity for distinction to many young men of the
profession, a jury trial, and a criminal cause. His business
naturally grew with his reputation, and his residence in the vicinity
afforded the opportunity, as his growing eminence gave the power, of
entering on a larger field of practice in the capital. In 1766 he
removed his residence to Boston, still continuing his attendance on
the neighboring circuits, and not unfrequently called to remote parts
of the Province. In 1770 his professional firmness was brought to a
test of some severity, on the application of the British officers and
soldiers to undertake their defence, on the trial of the indictments
found against them on account of the transactions of the memorable
5th of March. He seems to have thought, on this occasion, that a man can
no more abandon the proper duties of his profession, than he can
abandon other duties. The event proved, that, as he judged well for
his own reputation, so, too, he judged well for the interest and
permanent fame of his country. The result of that trial proved, that,
notwithstanding the high degree of excitement then existing in
consequence of the measures of the British government, a jury of
Massachusetts would not deprive the most reckless enemies, even the
officers of that standing army quartered among them, which they so
perfectly abhorred, of any part of that protection which the law, in
its mildest and most indulgent interpretation, affords to persons
accused of crimes.
Without following Mr. Adams's professional course further suffice it to
say, that on the first establishment of the judicial tribunals under
the authority of the State, in 1776, he received an offer of the high
and responsible station of Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of
Massachusetts. But he was destined for another and a different
career. From early life the bent of his mind was toward politics; a
propensity which the state of the times, if it did not create,
doubtless very much strengthened. Public subjects must have occupied
the thoughts and filled up the conversation in the circles in which
he then moved; and the interesting questions at that time just
arising could not but seize on a mind like his, ardent, sanguine, and
patriotic. A letter, fortunately preserved, written by him at
Worcester, so early as the 12th of October, 1755, is a proof of very
comprehensive views, and uncommon depth of reflection, in a young
man not yet quite twenty. In this letter he predicted the transfer of
power, and the establishment of a new seat of empire in America; he
predicted, also, the increase of population in the Colonies; and
anticipated their naval distinction, and foretold that all Europe
combined could not subdue them. All this is said, not on a public
occasion or for effect, but in the style of sober and friendly
correspondence, as the result of his own thoughts. "I sometimes retire,"
said he, at the close of the letter, "and, laying things together, form
some reflections pleasing to myself. The produce of one of these
reveries you have read above."[69] This prognostication so early in
his own life, so early in the history of the country, of independence,
of vast increase of numbers, of naval force, of such augmented
power as might defy all Europe, is remarkable. It is more remarkable
that its author should live to see fulfilled to the letter what could
have seemed to others, at the time, but the extravagance of youthful
fancy. His earliest political feelings were thus strongly American,
and from this ardent attachment to his native soil he never departed.
While still living at Quincy, and at the age of twenty-four, Mr. Adams
was present, in this town, at the argument before the Supreme Court
respecting _Writs of Assistance_, and heard the celebrated and
patriotic speech of JAMES OTIS. Unquestionably, that was a masterly
performance. No flighty declamation about liberty, no superficial
discussion of popular topics, it was a learned, penetrating, convincing,
constitutional argument, expressed in a strain of high and resolute
patriotism. He grasped the question then pending between England and
her Colonies with the strength of a lion; and if he sometimes
sported, it was only because the lion himself is sometimes playful.
Its success appears to have been as great as its merits, and its
impression was widely felt. Mr. Adams himself seems never to have lost
the feeling it produced, and to have entertained constantly the
fullest conviction of its important effects. "I do say," he observes,
"in the most solemn manner, that Mr. Otis's Oration against Writs of
Assistance breathed into this nation the breath of life."[70]
In 1765 Mr. Adams laid before the public, anonymously, a series of
essays, afterwards collected in a volume in London, under the title of A
Dissertation on the Canon and Feudal Law.[71] The object of this work
was to show that our New England ancestors, in consenting to exile
themselves from their native land, were actuated mainly by the desire of
delivering themselves from the power of the hierarchy, and from the
monarchical and aristocratical systems of the other continent; and to
make this truth bear with effect on the politics of the times. Its tone
is uncommonly bold and animated for that period. He calls on the people,
not only to defend, but to study and understand, their rights and
privileges; urges earnestly the necessity of diffusing general
knowledge; invokes the clergy and the bar, the colleges and academies,
and all others who have the ability and the means to expose the
insidious designs of arbitrary power, to resist its approaches, and to
be persuaded that there is a settled design on foot to enslave all
America. "Be it remembered," says the author, "that liberty must, at all
hazards, be supported. We have a right to it, derived from our Maker.
But if we had not, our fathers have earned and bought it for us, at the
expense of their ease, their estates, their pleasure, and their blood.
And liberty cannot be preserved without a general knowledge among the
people, who have a right, from the frame of their nature, to knowledge,
as their great Creator, who does nothing in vain, has given them
understandings and a desire to know. But, besides this, they have a
right, an indisputable, unalienable, indefeasible, divine right, to that
most dreaded and envied kind of knowledge, I mean of the characters and
conduct of their rulers. Rulers are no more than attorneys, agents, and
trustees for the people; and if the cause, the interest and trust, is
insidiously betrayed, or wantonly trifled away, the people have a right
to revoke the authority that they themselves have deputed, and to
constitute abler and better agents, attorneys, and trustees."
The citizens of this town conferred on Mr. Adams his first political
distinction, and clothed him with his first political trust, by electing
him one of their representatives, in 1770. Before this time he had
become extensively known throughout the Province, as well by the part he
had acted in relation to public affairs, as by the exercise of his
professional ability. He was among those who took the deepest interest
in the controversy with England, and whether in or out of the
legislature, his time and talents were alike devoted to the cause. In
the years 1773 and 1774 he was chosen a Councillor by the members of the
General Court, but rejected by Governor Hutchinson in the former of
those years, and by Governor Gage in the latter.
The time was now at hand, however, when the affairs of the Colonies
urgently demanded united counsels throughout the country. An open
rupture with the parent state appeared inevitable, and it was but the
dictate of prudence that those who were united by a common interest
and a common danger should protect that interest and guard against
that danger by united efforts. A general Congress of Delegates from
all the Colonies having been proposed and agreed to, the House of
Representatives, on the 17th of June, 1774, elected James Bowdoin,
Thomas Cushing, Samuel Adams, John Adams, and Robert Treat Paine,
delegates from Massachusetts. This appointment was made at Salem,
where the General Court had been convened by Governor Gage, in the
last hour of the existence of a House of Representatives under the
Provincial Charter. While engaged in this important business, the
Governor, having been informed of what was passing, sent his secretary
with a message dissolving the General Court. The secretary, finding
the door locked, directed the messenger to go in and inform the Speaker
that the secretary was at the door with a message from the Governor. The
messenger returned, and informed the secretary that the orders of
the House were that the doors should be kept fast; whereupon the
secretary soon after read upon the stairs a proclamation dissolving
the General Court. Thus terminated, for ever, the actual exercise of
the political power of England in or over Massachusetts. The four
last-named delegates accepted their appointments, and took their
seats in Congress the first day of its meeting, the 5th of September,
1774, in Philadelphia.
The proceedings of the first Congress are well known, and have been
universally admired. It is in vain that we would look for superior
proofs of wisdom, talent, and patriotism. Lord Chatham said, that, for
himself, he must declare that he had studied and admired the free states
of antiquity, the master states of the world, but that for solidity of
reasoning, force of sagacity, and wisdom of conclusion, no body of men
could stand in preference to this Congress. It is hardly inferior praise
to say, that no production of that great man himself can be pronounced
superior to several of the papers published as the proceedings of this
most able, most firm, most patriotic assembly. There is, indeed, nothing
superior to them in the range of political disquisition. They not only
embrace, illustrate, and enforce every thing which political philosophy,
the love of liberty, and the spirit of free inquiry had antecedently
produced, but they add new and striking views of their own, and apply
the whole, with irresistible force, in support of the cause which had
drawn them together.
Mr. Adams was a constant attendant on the deliberations of this body,
and bore an active part in its important measures. He was of the
committee to state the rights of the Colonies, and of that also which
reported the Address to the King.
As it was in the Continental Congress, fellow-citizens, that those whose
deaths have given rise to this occasion were first brought together, and
called upon to unite their industry and their ability in the service of
the country, let us now turn to the other of these distinguished men,
and take a brief notice of his life up to the period when he appeared
within the walls of Congress.
THOMAS JEFFERSON, descended from ancestors who had been settled in
Virginia for some generations, was born near the spot on which he died,
in the county of Albemarle, on the 2d of April (old style), 1743. His
youthful studies were pursued in the neighborhood of his father's
residence until he was removed to the College of William and Mary, the
highest honors of which he in due time received. Having left the College
with reputation, he applied himself to the study of the law under the
tuition of George Wythe, one of the highest judicial names of which that
State can boast. At an early age he was elected a member of the
legislature, in which he had no sooner appeared than he distinguished
himself by knowledge, capacity, and promptitude.
Mr. Jefferson appears to have been imbued with an early love of letters
and science, and to have cherished a strong disposition to pursue these
objects. To the physical sciences, especially, and to ancient classic
literature, he is understood to have had a warm attachment, and never
entirely to have lost sight of them in the midst of the busiest
occupations. But the times were times for action, rather than for
contemplation. The country was to be defended, and to be saved, before
it could be enjoyed. Philosophic leisure and literary pursuits, and even
the objects of professional attention, were all necessarily postponed to
the urgent calls of the public service. The exigency of the country made
the same demand on Mr. Jefferson that it made on others who had the
ability and the disposition to serve it; and he obeyed the call;
thinking and feeling in this respect with the great Roman orator: "Quis
enim est tam cupidus in perspicienda cognoscendaque rerum natura, ut, si
ei tractanti contemplantique res cognitione dignissimas subito sit
allatum periculum discrimenque patriæ, cui subvenire opitularique
possit, non illa omnia relinquat atque abjiciat, etiam si dinumerare se
stellas, aut metiri mundi magnitudinem posse arbitretur?"[72]
Entering with all his heart into the cause of liberty, his ability,
patriotism, and power with the pen naturally drew upon him a large
participation in the most important concerns. Wherever he was, there was
found a soul devoted to the cause, power to defend and maintain it, and
willingness to incur all its hazards. In 1774 he published a Summary
View of the Rights of British America, a valuable production among those
intended to show the dangers which threatened the liberties of the
country, and to encourage the people in their defence. In June, 1775, he
was elected a member of the Continental Congress, as successor to Peyton
Randolph, who had resigned his place on account of ill health, and took
his seat in that body on the 21st of the same month.
And now, fellow-citizens, without pursuing the biography of these
illustrious men further, for the present, let us turn our attention to
the most prominent act of their lives, their participation in the
DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE.
Preparatory to the introduction of that important measure, a committee,
at the head of which was Mr. Adams, had reported a resolution, which
Congress adopted on the 10th of May, recommending, in substance, to all
the Colonies which had not already established governments suited to the
exigencies of their affairs, _to adopt such government as would, in the
opinion of the representatives of the people, best conduce to the
happiness and safety of their constituents in particular, and America in
general_.
This significant vote was soon followed by the direct proposition which
Richard Henry Lee had the honor to submit to Congress, by resolution, on
the 7th day of June. The published journal does not expressly state it,
but there is no doubt, I suppose, that this resolution was in the same
words, when originally submitted by Mr. Lee, as when finally passed.
Having been discussed on Saturday, the 8th, and Monday, the 10th of
June, this resolution was on the last mentioned day postponed for
further consideration to the first day of July; and at the same time it
was voted, that a committee be appointed to prepare a Declaration to the
effect of the resolution. This committee was elected by ballot, on the
following day, and consisted of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Benjamin
Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Robert R. Livingston.
It is usual, when committees are elected by ballot, that their members
should be arranged in order, according to the number of votes which each
has received. Mr. Jefferson, therefore, had received the highest, and
Mr. Adams the next highest number of votes. The difference is said to
have been but of a single vote. Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams, standing
thus at the head of the committee, were requested by the other members
to act as a sub-committee to prepare the draft; and Mr. Jefferson drew
up the paper. The original draft, as brought by him from his study, and
submitted to the other members of the committee, with interlineations in
the handwriting of Dr. Franklin, and others in that of Mr. Adams, was in
Mr. Jefferson's possession at the time of his death.[73] The merit of
this paper is Mr. Jefferson's. Some changes were made in it at the
suggestion of other members of the committee, and others by Congress
while it was under discussion. But none of them altered the tone, the
frame, the arrangement, or the general character of the instrument. As a
composition, the Declaration is Mr. Jefferson's. It is the production of
his mind, and the high honor of it belongs to him, clearly and
absolutely.
It has sometimes been said, as if it were a derogation from the merits
of this paper, that it contains nothing new; that it only states grounds
of proceeding, and presses topics of argument, which had often been
stated and pressed before. But it was not the object of the Declaration
to produce any thing new. It was not to invent reasons for independence,
but to state those which governed the Congress. For great and sufficient
causes, it was proposed to declare independence; and the proper business
of the paper to be drawn was to set forth those causes, and justify the
authors of the measure, in any event of fortune, to the country and to
posterity. The cause of American independence, moreover, was now to be
presented to the world in such manner, if it might so be, as to engage
its sympathy, to command its respect, to attract its admiration; and in
an assembly of most able and distinguished men, THOMAS JEFFERSON had the
high honor of being the selected advocate of this cause. To say that he
performed his great work well, would be doing him injustice. To say that
he did excellently well, admirably well, would be inadequate and halting
praise. Let us rather say, that he so discharged the duty assigned him,
that all Americans may well rejoice that the work of drawing the
title-deed of their liberties devolved upon him.
With all its merits, there are those who have thought that there was one
thing in the Declaration to be regretted; and that is, the asperity and
apparent anger with which it speaks of the person of the king; the
industrious ability with which it accumulates and charges upon him all
the injuries which the Colonies had suffered from the mother country.
Possibly some degree of injustice, now or hereafter, at home or abroad,
may be done to the character of Mr. Jefferson, if this part of the
Declaration be not placed in its proper light. Anger or resentment,
certainly much less personal reproach and invective, could not properly
find place in a composition of such high dignity, and of such lofty and
permanent character.
A single reflection on the original ground of dispute between England
and the Colonies is sufficient to remove any unfavorable impression in
this respect.
The inhabitants of all the Colonies, while Colonies, admitted themselves
bound by their allegiance to the king; but they disclaimed altogether
the authority of Parliament; holding themselves, in this respect, to
resemble the condition of Scotland and Ireland before the respective
unions of those kingdoms with England, when they acknowledged allegiance
to the same king, but had each its separate legislature. The tie,
therefore, which our Revolution was to break did not subsist between us
and the British Parliament, or between us and the British government in
the aggregate, but directly between us and the king himself. The
Colonies had never admitted themselves subject to Parliament. That was
precisely the point of the original controversy. They had uniformly
denied that Parliament had authority to make laws for them. There was,
therefore, no subjection to Parliament to be thrown off.[74] But
allegiance to the king did exist, and had been uniformly acknowledged;
and down to 1775 the most solemn assurances had been given that it was
not intended to break that allegiance, or to throw it off. Therefore, as
the direct object and only effect of the Declaration, according to the
principles on which the controversy had been maintained on our part,
were to sever the tie of allegiance which bound us to the king, it was
properly and necessarily founded on acts of the crown itself, as its
justifying causes. Parliament is not so much as mentioned in the whole
instrument. When odious and oppressive acts are referred to, it is done
by charging the king with confederating with others "in pretended acts
of legislation"; the object being constantly to hold the king himself
directly responsible for those measures which were the grounds of
separation. Even the precedent of the English Revolution was not
overlooked, and in this case, as well as in that, occasion was found to
say that the king had _abdicated_ the government. Consistency with the
principles upon which resistance began, and with all the previous state
papers issued by Congress, required that the Declaration should be
bottomed on the misgovernment of the king; and therefore it was properly
framed with that aim and to that end. The king was known, indeed, to
have acted, as in other cases, by his ministers, and with his
Parliament; but as our ancestors had never admitted themselves subject
either to ministers or to Parliament, there were no reasons to be given
for now refusing obedience to their authority. This clear and obvious
necessity of founding the Declaration on the misconduct of the king
himself, gives to that instrument its personal application, and its
character of direct and pointed accusation.
The Declaration having been reported to Congress by the committee, the
resolution itself was taken up and debated on the first day of July, and
again on the second, on which last day it was agreed to and adopted, in
these words:--
"_Resolved_, That these united Colonies are, and of right ought to be,
free and independent States; that they are absolved from all allegiance
to the British crown, and that all political connection between them and
the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved."
Having thus passed the main resolution, Congress proceeded to consider
the reported draught of the Declaration. It was discussed on the second,
and third, and FOURTH days of the month, in committee of the whole; and
on the last of those days, being reported from that committee, it
received the final approbation and sanction of Congress. It was ordered,
at the same time, that copies be sent to the several States, and that it
be proclaimed at the head of the army. The Declaration thus published
did not bear the names of the members, for as yet it had not been signed
by them. It was authenticated, like other papers of the Congress, by the
signatures of the President and Secretary. On the 19th of July, as
appears by the secret journal, Congress "_Resolved_, That the
Declaration, passed on the fourth, be fairly engrossed on parchment,
with the title and style of 'THE UNANIMOUS DECLARATION OF THE THIRTEEN
UNITED STATES OF AMERICA'; and that the same, when engrossed be signed
by every member of Congress." And on the SECOND DAY OF AUGUST following,
"the Declaration, being engrossed and compared at the table, was signed
by the members." So that it happens, fellow-citizens, that we pay these
honors to their memory on the anniversary of that day (2d of August) on
which these great men actually signed their names to the Declaration.
The Declaration was thus made, that is, it passed and was adopted as an
act of Congress, on the fourth of July; it was then signed, and
certified by the President and Secretary, like other acts. The FOURTH OF
JULY, therefore, is the ANNIVERSARY OF THE DECLARATION. But the
signatures of the members present were made to it, being then engrossed
on parchment, on the second day of August. Absent members afterwards
signed, as they came in; and indeed it bears the names of some who were
not chosen members of Congress until after the fourth of July. The
interest belonging to the subject will be sufficient, I hope, to
justify these details.[75]
The Congress of the Revolution, fellow-citizens, sat with closed doors,
and no report of its debates was ever made. The discussion, therefore,
which accompanied this great measure, has never been preserved, except
in memory and by tradition. But it is, I believe, doing no injustice to
others to say, that the general opinion was, and uniformly has been,
that in debate, on the side of independence, JOHN ADAMS had no equal.
The great author of the Declaration himself has expressed that opinion
uniformly and strongly. "JOHN ADAMS," said he, in the hearing of him who
has now the honor to address you, "JOHN ADAMS was our colossus on the
floor. Not graceful, not elegant, not always fluent, in his public
addresses, he yet came out with a power, both of thought and of
expression, which moved us from our seats."
For the part which he was here to perform, Mr. Adams doubtless was
eminently fitted. He possessed a bold spirit, which disregarded danger,
and a sanguine reliance on the goodness of the cause, and the virtues of
the people, which led him to overlook all obstacles. His character, too,
had been formed in troubled times. He had been rocked in the early
storms of the controversy, and had acquired a decision and a hardihood
proportioned to the severity of the discipline which he had undergone.
He not only loved the American cause devoutly, but had studied and
understood it. It was all familiar to him. He had tried his powers on
the questions which it involved, often and in various ways; and had
brought to their consideration whatever of argument or illustration the
history of his own country, the history of England, or the stores of
ancient or of legal learning could furnish. Every grievance enumerated
in the long catalogue of the Declaration had been the subject of his
discussion, and the object of his remonstrance and reprobation. From
1760, the Colonies, the rights of the Colonies, the liberties of the
Colonies, and the wrongs inflicted on the Colonies, had engaged his
constant attention; and it has surprised those who have had the
opportunity of witnessing it, with what full remembrance and with what
prompt recollection he could refer, in his extreme old age, to every act
of Parliament affecting the Colonies, distinguishing and stating their
respective titles, sections, and provisions; and to all the Colonial
memorials, remonstrances, and petitions, with whatever else belonged to
the intimate and exact history of the times from that year to 1775. It
was, in his own judgment, between these years that the American people
came to a full understanding and thorough knowledge of their rights, and
to a fixed resolution of maintaining them; and bearing himself an active
part in all important transactions, the controversy with England being
then in effect the business of his life, facts, dates, and particulars
made an impression which was never effaced. He was prepared, therefore,
by education and discipline, as well as by natural talent and natural
temperament, for the part which he was now to act.
The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general character, and formed,
indeed, a part of it. It was bold, manly, and energetic; and such the
crisis required. When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous
occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions
excited, nothing is valuable in speech farther than as it is connected
with high intellectual and moral endowments. Clearness, force, and
earnestness are the qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence,
indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labor
and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and
phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It
must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected
passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire to
it; they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the
outbreaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of
volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces
taught in the schools, the costly ornaments and studied contrivances of
speech, shock and disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate of
their wives, their children, and their country, hang on the decision of
the hour. Then words have lost their power, rhetoric is vain, and all
elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then feels rebuked
and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then patriotism is
eloquent; then self-devotion is eloquent. The clear conception,
outrunning the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve,
the dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye,
informing every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward
to his object,--this, this is eloquence; or rather it is something
greater and higher than all eloquence, it is action, noble, sublime,
godlike action.
In July, 1776, the controversy had passed the stage of argument. An
appeal had been made to force, and opposing armies were in the field.
Congress, then, was to decide whether the tie which had so long bound us
to the parent state was to be severed at once, and severed for ever. All
the Colonies had signified their resolution to abide by this decision,
and the people looked for it with the most intense anxiety. And surely,
fellow-citizens, never, never were men called to a more important
political deliberation. If we contemplate it from the point where they
then stood, no question could be more full of interest; if we look at it
now, and judge of its importance by its effects, it appears of still
greater magnitude.
Let us, then, bring before us the assembly, which was about to decide a
question thus big with the fate of empire. Let us open their doors and
look in upon their deliberations. Let us survey the anxious and
care-worn countenances, let us hear the firm-toned voices, of this band
of patriots.
HANCOCK presides over the solemn sitting; and one of those not yet
prepared to pronounce for absolute independence is on the floor, and is
urging his reasons for dissenting from the declaration.
"Let us pause! This step, once taken, cannot be retraced. This
resolution, once passed, will cut off all hope of reconciliation. If
success attend the arms of England, we shall then be no longer Colonies,
with charters and with privileges; these will all be forfeited by this
act; and we shall be in the condition of other conquered people, at the
mercy of the conquerors. For ourselves, we may be ready to run the
hazard; but are we ready to carry the country to that length? Is success
so probable as to justify it? Where is the military, where the naval
power by which we are to resist the whole strength of the arm of
England, for she will exert that strength to the utmost? Can we rely on
the constancy and perseverance of the people? or will they not act as
the people of other countries have acted, and, wearied with a long war,
submit, in the end, to a worse oppression? While we stand on our old
ground, and insist on redress of grievances, we know we are right, and
are not answerable for consequences. Nothing, then, can be imputed to
us. But if we now change our object, carry our pretensions farther, and
set up for absolute independence, we shall lose the sympathy of mankind.
We shall no longer be defending what we possess, but struggling for
something which we never did possess, and which we have solemnly and
uniformly disclaimed all intention of pursuing, from the very outset of
the troubles. Abandoning thus our old ground, of resistance only to
arbitrary acts of oppression, the nations will believe the whole to have
been mere pretence, and they will look on us, not as injured, but as
ambitious subjects. I shudder before this responsibility. It will be on
us, if, relinquishing the ground on which we have stood so long, and
stood so safely, we now proclaim independence, and carry on the war for
that object, while these cities burn, these pleasant fields whiten and
bleach with the bones of their owners, and these streams run blood. It
will be upon us, it will be upon us, if, failing to maintain this
unseasonable and ill-judged declaration, a sterner despotism, maintained
by military power, shall be established over our posterity, when we
ourselves, given up by an exhausted, a harassed, a misled people, shall
have expiated our rashness and atoned for our presumption on the
scaffold."
It was for Mr. Adams to reply to arguments like these. We know his
opinions, and we know his character. He would commence with his
accustomed directness and earnestness.
"Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand and my
heart to this vote. It is true, indeed, that in the beginning we aimed
not at independence. But there's a Divinity which shapes our ends. The
injustice of England has driven us to arms; and, blinded to her own
interest for our good, she has obstinately persisted, till independence
is now within our grasp. We have but to reach forth to it, and it is
ours. Why, then, should we defer the Declaration? Is any man so weak as
now to hope for a reconciliation with England, which shall leave either
safety to the country and its liberties, or safety to his own life and
his own honor? Are not you, Sir, who sit in that chair, is not he, our
venerable colleague near you, are you not both already the proscribed
and predestined objects of punishment and of vengeance? Cut off from all
hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the power
of England remains, but outlaws? If we postpone independence, do we mean
to carry on, or to give up, the war? Do we mean to submit to the
measures of Parliament, Boston Port Bill and all? Do we mean to submit,
and consent that we ourselves shall be ground to powder, and our country
and its rights trodden down in the dust? I know we do not mean to
submit. We never shall submit. Do we intend to violate that most solemn
obligation ever entered into by men, that plighting, before God, of our
sacred honor to Washington, when, putting him forth to incur the dangers
of war, as well as the political hazards of the times, we promised to
adhere to him, in every extremity, with our fortunes and our lives? I
know there is not a man here, who would not rather see a general
conflagration sweep over the land, or an earthquake sink it, than one
jot or tittle of that plighted faith fall to the ground. For myself,
having, twelve months ago, in this place, moved you, that George
Washington be appointed commander of the forces raised, or to be raised,
for defence of American liberty,[76] may my right hand forget her
cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate or
waver in the support I give him.
"The war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. And if the war
must go on, why put off longer the Declaration of Independence? That
measure will strengthen us. It will give us character abroad. The
nations will then treat with us, which they never can do while we
acknowledge ourselves subjects, in arms against our sovereign. Nay, I
maintain that England herself will sooner treat for peace with us on the
footing of independence, than consent, by repealing her acts, to
acknowledge that her whole conduct towards us has been a course of
injustice and oppression. Her pride will be less wounded by submitting
to that course of things which now predestinates our independence, than
by yielding the points in controversy to her rebellious subjects. The
former she would regard as the result of fortune; the latter she would
feel as her own deep disgrace. Why, then, why then, Sir, do we not as
soon as possible change this from a civil to a national war? And since
we must fight it through, why not put ourselves in a state to enjoy all
the benefits of victory, if we gain the victory?
"If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we shall not fail. The cause
will raise up armies; the cause will create navies. The people, the
people, if we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry
themselves, gloriously, through this struggle. I care not how fickle
other people have been found. I know the people of these Colonies, and I
know that resistance to British aggression is deep and settled in their
hearts and cannot be eradicated. Every Colony, indeed, has expressed its
willingness to follow, if we but take the lead. Sir, the Declaration
will inspire the people with increased courage. Instead of a long and
bloody war for the restoration of privileges, for redress of grievances,
for chartered immunities, held under a British king, set before them the
glorious object of entire independence, and it will breathe into them
anew the breath of life. Read this Declaration at the head of the army;
every sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow uttered,
to maintain it, or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish it from the
pulpit; religion will approve it, and the love of religious liberty will
cling round it, resolved to stand with it, or fall with it. Send it to
the public halls; proclaim it there; let them hear it who heard the
first roar of the enemy's cannon; let them see it who saw their brothers
and their sons fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and in the streets of
Lexington and Concord, and the very walls will cry out in its support.
"Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs, but I see, I see clearly,
through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not
live to the time when this Declaration shall be made good. We may die;
die colonists; die slaves; die, it may be, ignominiously and on the
scaffold. Be it so. Be it so. If it be the pleasure of Heaven that my
country shall require the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be
ready at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But
while I do live, let me have a country, or at least the hope of a
country, and that a free country.
"But whatever may be our fate, be assured, be assured that this
Declaration will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood; but
it will stand, and it will richly compensate for both. Through the
thick gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the future, as the
sun in heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. When we
are in our graves, our children will honor it. They will celebrate it
with thanksgiving, with festivity, with bonfires, and illuminations. On
its annual return they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of
subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, but of exultation, of
gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. My
judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I
have, and all that I am, and all that I hope, in this life, I am now
ready here to stake upon it; and I leave off as I begun, that live or
die, survive or perish, I am for the Declaration. It is my living
sentiment, and by the blessing of God it shall be my dying sentiment,
Independence, _now_, and INDEPENDENCE FOR EVER."[77]
And so that day shall be honored, illustrious prophet and patriot! so
that day shall be honored, and as often as it returns, thy renown shall
come along with it, and the glory of thy life, like the day of thy
death, shall not fail from the remembrance of men.
* * * * *
It would be unjust, fellow-citizens, on this occasion, while we
express our veneration for him who is the immediate subject of these
remarks, were we to omit a most respectful, affectionate, and
grateful mention of those other great men, his colleagues, who stood
with him, and with the same spirit, the same devotion, took part in
the interesting transaction. HANCOCK, the proscribed HANCOCK, exiled
from his home by a military governor, cut off by proclamation from the
mercy of the crown,--Heaven reserved for him the distinguished honor
of putting this great question to the vote, and of writing his own
name first, and most conspicuously, on that parchment which spoke
defiance to the power of the crown of England. There, too, is the
name of that other proscribed patriot, SAMUEL ADAMS, a man who
hungered and thirsted for the independence of his country; who
thought the Declaration halted and lingered, being himself not only
ready, but eager, for it, long before it was proposed; a man of the
deepest sagacity, the dearest foresight, and the profoundest judgment
in men. And there is GERRY, himself among the earliest and the
foremost of the patriots, found, when the battle of Lexington summoned
them to common counsels, by the side of WARREN; a man who lived to
serve his country at home and abroad, and to die in the second place
in the government. There, too, is the inflexible, the upright, the
Spartan character, ROBERT TREAT PAINE. He also lived to serve his
country through the struggle, and then withdrew from her councils,
only that he might give his labors and his life to his native State,
in another relation. These names, fellow-citizens, are the treasures
of the Commonwealth; and they are treasures which grow brighter by
time.
* * * * *
It is now necessary to resume the narrative, and to finish with great
brevity the notice of the lives of those whose virtues and services we
have met to commemorate.
Mr. Adams remained in Congress from its first meeting till November,
1777, when he was appointed Minister to France. He proceeded on that
service in the February following, embarking in the frigate Boston, from
the shore of his native town, at the foot of Mount Wollaston. The year
following, he was appointed commissioner to treat of peace with England.
Returning to the United States, he was a delegate from Braintree in the
Convention for framing the Constitution of this Commonwealth, in
1780.[78] At the latter end of the same year, he again went abroad in
the diplomatic service of the country, and was employed at various
courts, and occupied with various negotiations, until 1788. The
particulars of these interesting and important services this occasion
does not allow time to relate. In 1782 he concluded our first treaty
with Holland. His negotiations with that republic, his efforts to
persuade the States-General to recognize our independence, his incessant
and indefatigable exertions to represent the American cause favorably on
the Continent, and to counteract the designs of its enemies, open and
secret, and his successful undertaking to obtain loans, on the credit of
a nation yet new and unknown, are among his most arduous, most useful,
most honorable services. It was his fortune to bear a part in the
negotiation for peace with England, and in something more than six
years from the Declaration which he had so strenuously supported, he had
the satisfaction of seeing the minister plenipotentiary of the crown
subscribe his name to the instrument which declared that his "Britannic
Majesty acknowledged the United States to be free, sovereign, and
independent." In these important transactions, Mr. Adams's conduct
received the marked approbation of Congress and of the country.
While abroad, in 1787, he published his Defence of the American
Constitutions; a work of merit and ability, though composed with haste,
on the spur of a particular occasion, in the midst of other occupations,
and under circumstances not admitting of careful revision. The immediate
object of the work was to counteract the weight of opinions advanced by
several popular European writers of that day, M. Turgot, the Abbé de
Mably, and Dr. Price, at a time when the people of the United States
were employed in forming and revising their systems of government.
Returning to the United States in 1788, he found the new government
about going into operation, and was himself elected the first
Vice-President, a situation which he filled with reputation for eight
years, at the expiration of which he was raised to the Presidential
chair, as immediate successor to the immortal Washington. In this high
station he was succeeded by Mr. Jefferson, after a memorable controversy
between their respective friends, in 1801; and from that period his
manner of life has been known to all who hear me. He has lived, for
five-and-twenty years, with every enjoyment that could render old age
happy. Not inattentive to the occurrences of the times, political cares
have yet not materially, or for any long time, disturbed his repose. In
1820 he acted as elector of President and Vice-President, and in the
same year we saw him, then at the age of eighty-five, a member of the
Convention of this Commonwealth called to revise the Constitution. Forty
years before, he had been one of those who formed that Constitution; and
he had now the pleasure of witnessing that there was little which the
people desired to change.[79] Possessing all his faculties to the end
of his long life, with an unabated love of reading and contemplation, in
the centre of interesting circles of friendship and affection, he was
blessed in his retirement with whatever of repose and felicity the
condition of man allows. He had, also, other enjoyments. He saw around
him that prosperity and general happiness which had been the object of
his public cares and labors. No man ever beheld more clearly, and for a
longer time, the great and beneficial effects of the services rendered
by himself to his country. That liberty which he so early defended, that
independence of which he was so able an advocate and supporter, he saw,
we trust, firmly and securely established. The population of the country
thickened around him faster, and extended wider, than his own sanguine
predictions had anticipated; and the wealth, respectability, and power
of the nation sprang up to a magnitude which it is quite impossible he
could have expected to witness in his day. He lived also to behold those
principles of civil freedom which had been developed, established, and
practically applied in America, attract attention, command respect, and
awaken imitation, in other regions of the globe; and well might, and
well did, he exclaim, "Where will the consequences of the American
Revolution end?"
If any thing yet remain to fill this cup of happiness, let it be added,
that he lived to see a great and intelligent people bestow the highest
honor in their gift where he had bestowed his own kindest parental
affections and lodged his fondest hopes. Thus honored in life, thus
happy at death, he saw the JUBILEE, and he died; and with the last
prayers which trembled on his lips was the fervent supplication for his
country, "Independence for ever!"[80]
* * * * *
Mr. Jefferson, having been occupied in the years 1778 and 1779 in the
important service of revising the laws of Virginia, was elected Governor
of that State, as successor to Patrick Henry, and held the situation
when the State was invaded by the British arms. In 1781 he published his
Notes on Virginia, a work which attracted attention in Europe as well as
America, dispelled many misconceptions respecting this continent, and
gave its author a place among men distinguished for science. In
November, 1783, he again took his seat in the Continental Congress, but
in the May following was appointed Minister Plenipotentiary, to act
abroad, in the negotiation of commercial treaties, with Dr. Franklin and
Mr. Adams. He proceeded to France in execution of this mission,
embarking at Boston; and that was the only occasion on which he ever
visited this place. In 1785 he was appointed Minister to France, the
duties of which situation he continued to perform until October, 1789,
when he obtained leave to retire, just on the eve of that tremendous
revolution which has so much agitated the world in our times. Mr.
Jefferson's discharge of his diplomatic duties was marked by great
ability, diligence, and patriotism; and while he resided at Paris, in
one of the most interesting periods, his character for intelligence, his
love of knowledge and of the society of learned men, distinguished him
in the highest circles of the French capital. No court in Europe had at
that time in Paris a representative commanding or enjoying higher
regard, for political knowledge or for general attainments, than the
minister of this then infant republic. Immediately on his return to his
native country, at the organization of the government under the present
Constitution, his talents and experience recommended him to President
Washington for the first office in his gift. He was placed at the head
of the Department of State. In this situation, also, he manifested
conspicuous ability. His correspondence with the ministers of other
powers residing here, and his instructions to our own diplomatic agents
abroad, are among our ablest state papers. A thorough knowledge of the
laws and usages of nations, perfect acquaintance with the immediate
subject before him, great felicity, and still greater facility, in
writing, show themselves in whatever effort his official situation
called on him to make. It is believed by competent judges, that the
diplomatic intercourse of the government of the United States, from the
first meeting of the Continental Congress in 1774 to the present time,
taken together, would not suffer, in respect to the talent with which it
has been conducted, by comparison with any thing which other and older
governments can produce; and to the attainment of this respectability
and distinction Mr. Jefferson has contributed his full part.
On the retirement of General Washington from the Presidency, and the
election of Mr. Adams to that office in 1797, he was chosen
Vice-President. While presiding in this capacity over the deliberations
of the Senate, he compiled and published a Manual of Parliamentary
Practice, a work of more labor and more merit than is indicated by its
size. It is now received as the general standard by which proceedings
are regulated, not only in both Houses of Congress, but in most of the
other legislative bodies in the country. In 1801 he was elected
President, in opposition to Mr. Adams, and reëlected in 1805, by a vote
approaching towards unanimity.
From the time of his final retirement from public life, in 1808, Mr.
Jefferson lived as became a wise man. Surrounded by affectionate
friends, his ardor in the pursuit of knowledge undiminished, with
uncommon health and unbroken spirits, he was able to enjoy largely the
rational pleasures of life, and to partake in that public prosperity
which he had so much contributed to produce. His kindness and
hospitality, the charm of his conversation, the ease of his manners, the
extent of his acquirements, and, especially, the full store of
Revolutionary incidents which he had treasured in his memory, and which
he knew when and how to dispense, rendered his abode in a high degree
attractive to his admiring countrymen, while his high public and
scientific character drew towards him every intelligent and educated
traveller from abroad. Both Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson had the pleasure
of knowing that the respect which they so largely received was not paid
to their official stations. They were not men made great by office; but
great men, on whom the country for its own benefit had conferred office.
There was that in them which office did not give, and which the
relinquishment of office did not, and could not, take away. In their
retirement, in the midst of their fellow-citizens, themselves private
citizens, they enjoyed as high regard and esteem as when filling the
most important places of public trust.
There remained to Mr. Jefferson yet one other work of patriotism and
beneficence, the establishment of a university in his native State. To
this object he devoted years of incessant and anxious attention, and by
the enlightened liberality of the Legislature of Virginia, and the
coöperation of other able and zealous friends, he lived to see it
accomplished. May all success attend this infant seminary; and may
those who enjoy its advantages, as often as their eyes shall rest on the
neighboring height, recollect what they owe to their disinterested and
indefatigable benefactor; and may letters honor him who thus labored in
the cause of letters![81]
Thus useful, and thus respected, passed the old age of Thomas Jefferson.
But time was on its ever-ceaseless wing, and was now bringing the last
hour of this illustrious man. He saw its approach with undisturbed
serenity. He counted the moments as they passed, and beheld that his
last sands were falling. That day, too, was at hand which he had helped
to make immortal. One wish, one hope, if it were not presumptuous, beat
in his fainting breast. Could it be so, might it please God, he would
desire once more to see the sun, once more to look abroad on the scene
around him, on the great day of liberty. Heaven, in its mercy, fulfilled
that prayer. He saw that sun, he enjoyed its sacred light, he thanked
God for this mercy, and bowed his aged head to the grave. "Felix, non
vitæ tantum claritate, sed etiam opportunitate mortis."
The last public labor of Mr. Jefferson naturally suggests the expression
of the high praise which is due, both to him and to Mr. Adams, for their
uniform and zealous attachment to learning, and to the cause of general
knowledge. Of the advantages of learning, indeed, and of literary
accomplishments, their own characters were striking recommendations and
illustrations. They were scholars, ripe and good scholars; widely
acquainted with ancient, as well as modern literature, and not
altogether uninstructed in the deeper sciences. Their acquirements,
doubtless, were different, and so were the particular objects of their
literary pursuits; as their tastes and characters, in these respects,
differed like those of other men. Being, also, men of busy lives, with
great objects requiring action constantly before them, their attainments
in letters did not become showy or obtrusive. Yet I would hazard the
opinion, that, if we could now ascertain all the causes which gave them
eminence and distinction in the midst of the great men with whom they
acted, we should find not among the least their early acquisitions in
literature, the resources which it furnished, the promptitude and
facility which it communicated, and the wide field it opened for analogy
and illustration; giving them thus, on every subject, a larger view and
a broader range, as well for discussion as for the government of their
own conduct.
Literature sometimes disgusts, and pretension to it much oftener
disgusts, by appearing to hang loosely on the character, like something
foreign or extraneous, not a part, but an ill-adjusted appendage; or by
seeming to overload and weigh it down by its unsightly bulk, like the
productions of bad taste in architecture, where there is massy and
cumbrous ornament without strength or solidity of column. This has
exposed learning, and especially classical learning, to reproach. Men
have seen that it might exist without mental superiority, without vigor,
without good taste, and without utility. But in such cases classical
learning has only not inspired natural talent; or, at most, it has but
made original feebleness of intellect, and natural bluntness of
perception, something more conspicuous. The question, after all, if it
be a question, is, whether literature, ancient as well as modern, does
not assist a good understanding, improve natural good taste, add
polished armor to native strength, and render its possessor, not only
more capable of deriving private happiness from contemplation and
reflection, but more accomplished also for action in the affairs of
life, and especially for public action. Those whose memories we now
honor were learned men; but their learning was kept in its proper place,
and made subservient to the uses and objects of life. They were
scholars, not common nor superficial; but their scholarship was so in
keeping with their character, so blended and inwrought, that careless
observers, or bad judges, not seeing an ostentatious display of it,
might infer that it did not exist; forgetting, or not knowing, that
classical learning in men who act in conspicuous public stations,
perform duties which exercise the faculty of writing, or address
popular, deliberative, or judicial bodies, is often felt where it is
little seen, and sometimes felt more effectually because it is not seen
at all.
But the cause of knowledge, in a more enlarged sense, the cause of
general knowledge and of popular education, had no warmer friends, nor
more powerful advocates, than Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson. On this
foundation they knew the whole republican system rested; and this great
and all-important truth they strove to impress, by all the means in
their power. In the early publication already referred to, Mr. Adams
expresses the strong and just sentiment, that the education of the poor
is more important, even to the rich themselves, than all their own
riches. On this great truth, indeed, is founded that unrivalled, that
invaluable political and moral institution, our own blessing and the
glory of our fathers, the New England system of free schools.
As the promotion of knowledge had been the object of their regard
through life, so these great men made it the subject of their
testamentary bounty. Mr. Jefferson is understood to have bequeathed his
library to the University of Virginia, and that of Mr. Adams is bestowed
on the inhabitants of Quincy.
Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson, fellow-citizens, were successively
Presidents of the United States. The comparative merits of their
respective administrations for a long time agitated and divided public
opinion. They were rivals, each supported by numerous and powerful
portions of the people, for the highest office. This contest, partly
the cause and partly the consequence of the long existence of two great
political parties in the country, is now part of the history of our
government. We may naturally regret that any thing should have
occurred to create difference and discord between those who had
acted harmoniously and efficiently in the great concerns of the
Revolution. But this is not the time, nor this the occasion, for
entering into the grounds of that difference, or for attempting to
discuss the merits of the questions which it involves. As practical
questions, they were canvassed when the measures which they regarded
were acted on and adopted; and as belonging to history, the time has
not come for their consideration.
It is, perhaps, not wonderful, that, when the Constitution of the United
States first went into operation, different opinions should be
entertained as to the extent of the powers conferred by it. Here was a
natural source of diversity of sentiment. It is still less wonderful,
that that event, nearly contemporary with our government under the
present Constitution, which so entirely shocked all Europe, and
disturbed our relations with her leading powers, should be thought, by
different men, to have different bearings on our own prosperity; and
that the early measures adopted by the government of the United States,
in consequence of this new state of things, should be seen in opposite
lights. It is for the future historian, when what now remains of
prejudice and misconception shall have passed away, to state these
different opinions, and pronounce impartial judgment. In the mean time,
all good men rejoice, and well may rejoice, that the sharpest
differences sprung out of measures which, whether right or wrong, have
ceased with the exigencies that gave them birth, and have left no
permanent effect, either on the Constitution or on the general
prosperity of the country. This remark, I am aware, may be supposed to
have its exception in one measure, the alteration of the Constitution as
to the mode of choosing President; but it is true in its general
application. Thus the course of policy pursued towards France in 1798,
on the one hand, and the measures of commercial restriction commenced in
1807, on the other, both subjects of warm and severe opposition, have
passed away and left nothing behind them. They were temporary, and
whether wise or unwise, their consequences were limited to their
respective occasions. It is equally clear, at the same time, and it is
equally gratifying, that those measures of both administrations which
were of durable importance, and which drew after them momentous and long
remaining consequences, have received general approbation. Such was the
organization, or rather the creation, of the navy, in the administration
of Mr. Adams; such the acquisition of Louisiana, in that of Mr.
Jefferson. The country, it may safely be added, is not likely to be
willing either to approve, or to reprobate, indiscriminately, and in the
aggregate, all the measures of either, or of any, administration. The
dictate of reason and of justice is, that, holding each one his own
sentiments on the points of difference, we imitate the great men
themselves in the forbearance and moderation which they have cherished,
and in the mutual respect and kindness which they have been so much
inclined to feel and to reciprocate.
No men, fellow-citizens, ever served their country with more entire
exemption from every imputation of selfish and mercenary motives, than
those to whose memory we are paying these proofs of respect. A
suspicion of any disposition to enrich themselves, or to profit by their
public employments, never rested on either. No sordid motive approached
them. The inheritance which they have left to their children is of their
character and their fame.
Fellow-citizens, I will detain you no longer by this faint and feeble
tribute to the memory of the illustrious dead. Even in other hands,
adequate justice could not be done to them, within the limits of this
occasion. Their highest, their best praise, is your deep conviction of
their merits, your affectionate gratitude for their labors and their
services. It is not my voice, it is this cessation of ordinary pursuits,
this arresting of all attention, these solemn ceremonies, and this
crowded house, which speak their eulogy. Their fame, indeed, is safe.
That is now treasured up beyond the reach of accident. Although no
sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear
record of their deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the
land they honored. Marble columns may, indeed, moulder into dust, time
may erase all impress from the crumbling stone, but their fame remains;
for with AMERICAN LIBERTY it rose, and with AMERICAN LIBERTY ONLY Can it
perish. It was the last swelling peal of yonder choir, "THEIR BODIES ARE
BURIED IN PEACE, BUT THEIR NAME LIVETH EVERMORE." I catch that solemn
song, I echo that lofty strain of funeral triumph, "THEIR NAME LIVETH
EVERMORE."
* * * * *
Of the illustrious signers of the Declaration of Independence there now
remains only CHARLES CARROLL. He seems an aged oak, standing alone on
the plain, which time has spared a little longer after all its
contemporaries have been levelled with the dust. Venerable object! we
delight to gather round its trunk, while yet it stands, and to dwell
beneath its shadow. Sole survivor of an assembly of as great men as the
world has witnessed, in a transaction one of the most important that
history records, what thoughts, what interesting reflections, must fill
his elevated and devout soul! If he dwell on the past, how touching its
recollections; if he survey the present, how happy, how joyous, how full
of the fruition of that hope, which his ardent patriotism indulged; if
he glance at the future, how does the prospect of his country's
advancement almost bewilder his weakened conception Fortunate,
distinguished patriot! Interesting relic of the past! Let him know that,
while we honor the dead, we do not forget the living; and that there is
not a heart here which does not fervently pray, that Heaven may keep him
yet back from the society of his companions.
* * * * *
And now, fellow-citizens, let us not retire from this occasion without a
deep and solemn conviction of the duties which have devolved upon us.
This lovely land, this glorious liberty, these benign institutions, the
dear purchase of our fathers, are ours; ours to enjoy, ours to preserve,
ours to transmit. Generations past and generations to come hold us
responsible for this sacred trust. Our fathers, from behind, admonish
us, with their anxious paternal voices; posterity calls out to us, from
the bosom of the future; the world turns hither its solicitous eyes;
all, all conjure us to act wisely, and faithfully, in the relation which
we sustain. We can never, indeed, pay the debt which is upon us; but by
virtue, by morality, by religion, by the cultivation of every good
principle and every good habit, we may hope to enjoy the blessing,
through our day, and to leave it unimpaired to our children. Let us feel
deeply how much of what we are and of what we possess we owe to this
liberty, and to these institutions of government. Nature has, indeed,
given us a soil which yields bounteously to the hand of industry, the
mighty and fruitful ocean is before us, and the skies over our heads
shed health and vigor. But what are lands, and seas, and skies, to
civilized man, without society, without knowledge, without morals,
without religious culture; and how can these be enjoyed, in all their
extent and all their excellence, but under the protection of wise
institutions and a free government? Fellow-citizens, there is not one of
us, there is not one of us here present, who does not, at this moment,
and at every moment, experience, in his own condition, and in the
condition of those most near and dear to him, the influence and the
benefits of this liberty and these institutions. Let us then acknowledge
the blessing, let us feel it deeply and powerfully, let us cherish a
strong affection for it, and resolve to maintain and perpetuate it. The
blood of our fathers, let it not have been shed in vain; the great hope
of posterity, let it not be blasted.
The striking attitude, too, in which we stand to the world around us, a
topic to which, I fear, I advert too often, and dwell on too long,
cannot be altogether omitted here. Neither individuals nor nations can
perform their part well, until they understand and feel its importance,
and comprehend and justly appreciate all the duties belonging to it.
It is not to inflate national vanity, nor to swell a light and empty
feeling of self-importance, but it is that we may judge justly of our
situation, and of our own duties, that I earnestly urge upon you this
consideration of our position and our character among the nations of
the earth. It cannot be denied, but by those who would dispute
against the sun, that with America, and in America, a new era commences
in human affairs. This era is distinguished by free representative
governments, by entire religious liberty, by improved systems of
national intercourse, by a newly awakened and an unconquerable spirit of
free inquiry, and by a diffusion of knowledge through the community,
such as has been before altogether unknown and unheard of. America,
America, our country, fellow-citizens, our own dear and native land, is
inseparably connected, fast bound up, in fortune and by fate, with
these great interests. If they fall, we fall with them; if they stand,
it will be because we have maintained them. Let us contemplate, then,
this connection, which binds the prosperity of others to our own; and
let us manfully discharge all the duties which it imposes. If we cherish
the virtues and the principles of our fathers, Heaven will assist us to
carry on the work of human liberty and human happiness. Auspicious
omens cheer us. Great examples are before us. Our own firmament now
shines brightly upon our path. WASHINGTON is in the clear, upper sky.
These other stars have now joined the American constellation; they
circle round their centre, and the heavens beam with new light.
Beneath this illumination let us walk the course of life, and at its
close devoutly commend our beloved country, the common parent of us all,
to the Divine Benignity.
FOOTNOTES
[67] A Discourse in Commemoration of the Lives and Services of John
Adams and Thomas Jefferson, delivered in Faneuil Hall, Boston,
on the 2d of August, 1826.
[68] Hon. Josiah Quincy.
[69] Extract of a letter written by John Adams to Nathan Webb, dated at
Worcester, Massachusetts, October 12, 1755.
"Soon after the Reformation, a few people came over into this
New World, for conscience' sake. Perhaps this apparently trivial
incident may transfer the great seat of empire into America. It
looks likely to me; for, if we can remove the turbulent Gallics,
our people, according to the exactest computations, will, in
another century, become more numerous than England itself.
Should this be the case, since we have, I may say, all the naval
stores of the nation in our hands, it will be easy to obtain a
mastery of the seas; and then the united force of all Europe
will not be able to subdue us. The only way to keep us from
setting up for ourselves is to disunite us.
"Be not surprised that I am turned politician. This whole town
is immersed in politics. The interests of nations, and all the
dira of war, make the subject of every conversation. I sit and
hear, and after having been led through a maze of sage
observations, I sometimes retire, and, laying things together,
form some reflections pleasing to myself. The produce of one of
these reveries you have read above."
[70] Nearly all that was known of this celebrated argument, at the time
the present Discourse was delivered, was derived from the
recollections of John Adams, as preserved in Minot's History of
Massachusetts, Vol. II. p. 91. See Life and Works of John Adams,
Vol. II. p. 124, published in the course of the past year
(1850), in the Appendix to which, p. 521, will be found a paper
hitherto unpublished, containing notes of the argument of Otis,
"which seem to be the foundation of the sketch published by
Minot." Tudor's Life of James Otis, p. 61.
[71] See Life and Works of John Adams, Vol. II. p. 150, Vol. III. p.
447, and North American Review, Vol. LXXI. p. 430.
[72] Cicero de Officiis, Lib. I. § 43.
[73] A fac-simile of this ever-memorable state paper, as drafted by Mr.
Jefferson, with the interlineations alluded to in the text, is
contained in Mr. Jefferson's Writings, Vol. I. p. 146. See,
also, in reference to the history of the Declaration, the Life
and Works of John Adams Vol. II. p. 512 _et seq._
[74] This question, of the power of Parliament over the Colonies, was
discussed with singular ability, by Governor Hutchinson on the
one side, and the House of Representatives of Massachusetts on
the other, in 1773. The argument of the House is in the form of
an answer to the Governor's Message, and was reported by Mr.
Samuel Adams, Mr. Hancock, Mr. Hawley, Mr. Bowers, Mr. Hobson,
Mr. Foster, Mr. Phillips, and Mr. Thayer. As the power of the
Parliament had been acknowledged, so far at least as to affect
us by laws of trade, it was not easy to settle the line of
distinction. It was thought, however, to be very clear, that the
charters of the Colonies had exempted them from the general
legislation of the British Parliament. See Massachusetts State
Papers, p. 351. The important assistance rendered by John Adams
in the preparation of the answer of the House to the Message of
the Governor may be learned from the Life and Works of John
Adams, Vol. II. p. 311 _et seq._
[75] The official copy of the Declaration, as engrossed and signed by
the members of Congress, is framed and preserved in the Hall
over the Patent-Office at Washington.
[76] See Life and Works of John Adams, Vol. II. p. 417 _et seq._
[77] On the authorship of this speech, see Note at the end of the
Discourse.
[78] In this Convention he served as chairman of the committee for
preparing the draft of a Constitution.
[79] Upon the organization of this body, 15th November, 1820, John
Adams was elected its President; an office which the infirmities
of age compelled him to decline. For the interesting proceedings
of the Convention on this occasion, the address of Chief Justice
Parker, and the reply of Mr. Adams, see Journal of Debates and
Proceedings in the Convention of Delegates chosen to revise the
Constitution of Massachusetts, p. 8 _et seq._
[80] For an account of Mr. Webster's last interview with Mr. Adams, see
March's Reminiscences of Congress, p. 62.
[81] Mr. Jefferson himself considered his services in establishing the
University of Virginia as among the most important rendered by
him to the country. In Mr. Wirt's Eulogy, it is stated that a
private memorandum was found among his papers, containing the
following inscription to be placed on his monument:--"Here was
buried Thomas Jefferson, Author of the Declaration of
Independence, of the Statutes of Virginia for Religious Freedom,
and Father of the University of Virginia." Eulogies on Adams and
Jefferson, p. 426.
NOTE.
Page 136.
The question has often been asked, whether the anonymous speech against
the Declaration of Independence, and the speech in support of it
ascribed to John Adams in the preceding Discourse, are a portion of the
debates which actually took place in 1776 in the Continental Congress.
Not only has this inquiry been propounded in the public papers, but
several letters on the subject have been addressed to Mr. Webster and
his friends. For this reason, it may be proper to state, that those
speeches were composed by Mr. Webster, after the manner of the ancient
historians, as embodying in an impressive form the arguments relied upon
by the friends and opponents of the measure, respectively. They of
course represent the speeches that were actually made on both sides, but
no report of the debates of this period has been preserved, and the
orator on the present occasion had no aid in framing these addresses,
but what was furnished by general tradition and the known line of
argument pursued by the speakers and writers of that day for and against
the measure of Independence. The first sentence of the speech ascribed
to Mr. Adams was of course suggested by the parting scene with Jonathan
Sewall, as described by Mr. Adams himself, in the Preface to the Letters
of Novanglus and Massachusettensis.
So much interest has been taken in this subject, that it has been
thought proper, by way of settling the question in the most authentic
manner, to give publicity to the following answer, written by Mr.
Webster to one of the letters of inquiry above alluded to.
"_Washington, 22 January, 1846._
"DEAR SIR:--
"I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your letter of the
18th instant. Its contents hardly surprise me, as I have received
very many similar communications.
"Your inquiry is easily answered. The Congress of the Revolution sat
with closed doors. Its proceedings were made known to the public,
from time to time, by printing its journal; but the debates were not
published. So far as I know, there is not existing, in print or
manuscript, the speech, or any part or fragment of the speech,
delivered by Mr. Adams on the question of the Declaration of
Independence. We only know from the testimony of his auditors, that
he spoke with remarkable ability and characteristic earnestness.
"The day after the Declaration was made, Mr. Adams, in writing to a
friend,[82] declared the event to be one that 'ought to be
commemorated, as the day of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion
to God Almighty. It ought to be solemnized with pomp and parade,
with shows, games, sports, guns, bells, bonfires, and illuminations,
from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward,
for evermore.'
"And on the day of his death, hearing the noise of bells and cannon,
he asked the occasion. On being reminded that it was 'Independent
day,' he replied, 'Independence for ever!' These expressions were
introduced into the speech _supposed_ to have been made by him. For
the rest, I must be answerable. The speech was written by me, in my
house in Boston, the day before the delivery of the Discourse in
Faneuil Hall; a poor substitute, I am sure it would appear to be, if
we could now see the speech actually made by Mr. Adams on that
transcendently important occasion.
"I am, respectfully,
"Your obedient servant,
"DANIEL WEBSTER."
FOOTNOTES
[82] See Letters of John Adams to his Wife, Vol. I. p. 128, note.
THE ELECTION OF 1825.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
It has already been observed in the Introductory Memoir, that, from the
return of peace in 1815, a tendency manifested itself in many parts of
the country toward a dissolution of the old parties. The overwrought
feelings of the people demanded repose. The subject-matter of several
of the points of party dissension had expired with the war. New
questions of great public interest, traversing the old party lines, had
sprung up. General Jackson, in a letter addressed to Mr. Monroe, in
1817, on the subject of the formation of his cabinet, had advised him
to discard the former party divisions. In the progress of his eight
years' administration, it was every day more and more apparent, that
the old party influences had spent their force. It became at last
impossible to recognize their continued existence.
With the approach of the national election in the autumn of 1824, at
which four candidates were supported for the office of President, no
thoughts were entertained in any quarter of recommending either of them
as a candidate to be supported or opposed by one or the other of the
ancient parties. If there was any seeming departure from this principle,
it must have been to some quite limited extent, and for supposed
advantage in narrow localities. In the Union at large, no such attempt
was made. The several candidates were sustained on broad national
grounds.
This was eminently the case in Massachusetts, where a very large
majority of the people, assuming the name of National Republicans, and
without reference to former divisions, were united in the support of
their fellow-citizen, John Quincy Adams. At the State elections next
succeeding his accession to the Presidency, in the spring of 1825, the
candidates for the offices of Governor and Lieutenant-Governor, who, at
the last contested election, had been brought forward by the Democratic
party, were almost unanimously supported, and a union ticket for
Senators was nominated in most of the counties of the State. Such was
the case in Suffolk County; and at a meeting held in Faneuil Hall,
without distinction of party, to ratify these nominations, the following
remarks were made by Mr. Webster.
THE ELECTION OF 1825.[83]
Mr. Webster said, he was quite unaccustomed to appear in that place;
having on no occasion addressed his fellow-citizens there, either to
recommend or to oppose the support of any candidates for public office.
He had long been of opinion, that to preserve the distinction and the
hostility of political parties was not consistent with the highest
degree of public good. At the same time, he did not find fault with the
conduct, nor question the motives, of those who thought otherwise. But,
entertaining this opinion, he had habitually abstained from attending on
those occasions on which the merits of public men, and of candidates for
office, were discussed, necessarily with more or less reference to party
attachment and party organization.
The present was an occasion of a different kind. The sentiment which had
called this meeting together was one of union and conciliation; a
sentiment so congenial to his own feelings, and to his opinion of the
public interest, that he could not resist the inclination to be present,
and to express his entire and hearty concurrence.
He should forbear, he said, from all remarks upon the particular names
which had been recommended by the committee. They had been selected, he
must presume, fairly, and with due consideration, by those who were
appointed for that purpose. In cases of this sort, every one cannot
expect to find every thing precisely as he might wish it; but those who
concurred in the general sentiment which dictated the selection would
naturally allow that sentiment to prevail as far as possible over
particular objections.
On the general question he would make a few remarks, begging the
indulgence of the meeting if he should say any thing which might with
more propriety proceed from others.
He hardly conceived how well disposed and intelligent minds could differ
as to the question, whether party contest and party strife, organized,
systematic, and continued, were of themselves desirable ingredients in
the composition of society. Difference of opinion on political subjects,
honorable competition, and emulous rivalry, may indeed be useful. But
these are very different things from organized and systematic party
combinations. He admitted, it was true, that party associations were
sometimes unavoidable, and perhaps necessary to the accomplishment of
other ends and purposes. But this did not prove that, of themselves,
they were good; or that they should be continued and preserved for their
own sake, when there had ceased to be any object to be effected by
them.
But there were those who supposed, that, whether political party
distinctions were or were not useful, it was impossible to abolish them.
Now he thought, on the contrary, that, under present circumstances, it
was quite impossible to continue them. New parties, indeed, might arise,
growing out of new events or new questions; but as to those old parties
which had sprung from controversies now no longer pending, or from
feelings which time and other causes had now changed, or greatly
allayed, he did not believe that they could long remain. Efforts,
indeed, made to that end, with zeal and perseverance, might delay their
extinction, but, he thought, could not prevent it. There was nothing to
keep alive these distinctions in the interests and objects which now
engaged society. New questions and new objects arise, having no
connection with the subjects of past controversies, and present interest
overcomes or absorbs the recollection of former controversies. Those who
are united on these existing questions and present interests will not be
disposed to weaken their efforts to promote them, by angry reflections
on past differences. If there were nothing _in things_ to divide about,
he thought the people not likely to maintain systematic controversies
about _men_. They have no interest in so doing. Associations formed to
support _principles_ may be called _parties_; but if they have no bond
of union but adherence to particular _men_, they become _factions_.
The people, in his opinion, were at present grateful to all parties for
whatever of good they had accomplished, and indulgent to all for
whatever of error they had committed; and, with these feelings, were now
mainly intent on the great objects which affected their present
interests. There might be exceptions to this remark; he was afraid there
were; but, nevertheless, such appeared to him to be the general feeling
in the country. It was natural that some prejudices should remain longer
than their causes, as the waves lash the shore for a time after the
storm has subsided; but the tendency of the elements was to repose.
Monopolies of all sorts were getting out of fashion; they were yielding
to liberal ideas, and to the obvious justice and expediency of fair
competition.
An administration of the general government, which had been in general
highly satisfactory to the country, had now closed.[84] He was not aware
that it could with propriety be said, that that administration had been
either supported or opposed by any party associations or on any party
principles. Certain it was, that, as far as there had been any organized
opposition to the administration, it had had nothing to do with former
parties. A new administration had now commenced, and he need hardly say
that the most liberal and conciliatory principles had been avowed in the
Inaugural Address of the newly elected President. It could not be
doubted that his administration would conform to those principles. Thus
far, he believed, its course had given general satisfaction. After what
they all had seen in relation to the gentleman holding the highest
appointment in the executive department under the President, he would
take this opportunity to say, that, having been a member of the House of
Representatives for six years, during the greater part of which time Mr.
Clay had presided in that House, he was most happy in being able, in a
manner less formal and more explicit than by concurring in the usual
vote of thanks, to express his own opinion of his liberality,
independence, and honorable feeling. And he would take this occasion
also to add, if his opinion could be of any value in such a case, that
he thought nothing more unfounded than that that gentleman owed his
present situation to any unworthy compromise or arrangement whatever.
He owed it to his talent, to his prominent standing in the community, to
his course of public service, not now a short one, and to the high
estimation in which he stands with that part of the country to which he
belongs.
Remarks, Mr. Webster proceeded to say, had been made from the chair,
very kind and partial, as to the manner in which he had discharged
the duties which he owed to his constituents in the House of
Representatives. He wished to say, that if he had been able to render
any, the humblest services, either to the public or his constituents,
in that place, it was owing wholly to the liberal manner in which his
efforts there had been received.
Having alluded to the Inaugural Address, he did not mean in the
slightest degree to detract from its merits, when he now said, that, in
his opinion, if either of the other candidates had succeeded in the
election, he also would have adopted a liberal course of policy. He had
no reason to believe that the sentiments of either of those gentlemen
were, in this respect, narrow or contracted. He fully believed the
contrary, in regard to both of them; but if they had been otherwise, he
thought still that expediency or necessity would have controlled their
inclinations.
I forbear, said Mr. Webster, from pursuing these remarks farther. I
repeat, that I do not complain of those who have hitherto thought, or
who still think, that party organization is necessary to the public
good. I do not question their motives; and I wish to be tolerant even to
those who think that toleration ought not to be indulged.
It is said, Sir, that prosperity sometimes hardens the heart.
Perhaps, also, it may sometimes have a contrary effect, and elevate
and liberalize the feelings. If this can ever be the result of such
a cause, there is certainly in the present condition of the country
enough to inspire the most grateful and the kindest feelings. We have a
common stock both of happiness and of distinction, of which we are
all entitled, as citizens of the country, to partake. We may all
rejoice in the general prosperity, in the peace and security which
we enjoy, and in the brilliant success which has thus far attended our
republican institutions. These are circumstances which may well excite
in us all a noble pride. Our civil and political institutions, while
they answer for us all the great ends designed by them, furnish at
the same time an example to others, and diffuse blessings beyond our
own limits. In whatever part of the globe men are found contending for
political liberty, they look to the United States with a feeling of
brotherhood, and put forth a claim of kindred. The South American
states, especially, exhibit a most interesting spectacle. Let the
great men who formed our constitutions of government, who still
survive, and let the children of those who have gone to their graves,
console themselves with the reflection, that, whether they have risen or
fallen in the little contests of party, they have not only established
the liberty and happiness of their own native land, but have
conferred blessings beyond their own country, and beyond their own
thoughts, on millions of men and on successions of generations. Under
the influence of these institutions, received and adopted in principle
from our example, the whole southern continent has shaken off its
colonial subjection. A new world, filled with fresh and interesting
nations, has risen to our sight. America seems again discovered; not to
geography, but to commerce, to social intercourse, to intelligence, to
civilization, and to liberty. Fifty years ago, some of those who now
hear me, and the fathers of many others, listened in this place to
those mighty leaders, Otis and Adams. When they then uttered the
spirit-stirring sounds of Independence and Liberty, there was not a foot
of land on the continent, inhabited by civilized man, that did not
acknowledge the dominion of European power. Thank God, at this moment,
from this place to the south pole, and from sea to sea, there is hardly
a foot of land that does.
And, Sir, when these states, thus newly disenthralled and emancipated,
assume the tone and bear the port of independence, what language and
what ideas do we find associated with their newly acquired liberty? They
speak, Sir, of constitutions, of declarations of rights, of the liberty
of the press, of a congress, and of representative government. Where,
Sir, did they learn these? And when they have applied to their great
leader, and the founder of their states, the language of praise and
commendation till they have exhausted it, when unsatisfied gratitude can
express itself no otherwise, do they not call him their WASHINGTON? Sir,
the Spirit of Continental Independence, the Genius of American Liberty,
which in earlier times tried her infant voice in the halls and on the
hills of New England, utters it now, with power that seems to wake the
dead, on the plains of Mexico, and along the sides of the Andes.
"Her path, where'er the goddess roves,
Glory pursues, and generous shame,
The unconquerable mind, and Freedom's holy flame."
There is one other point of view, Sir, in regard to which I will say a
few words, though perhaps at some hazard of misinterpretation.
In the wonderful spirit of improvement and enterprise which animates the
country, we may be assured that each quarter will naturally exert its
power in favor of objects in which it is interested. This is natural and
unavoidable. Each portion, therefore, will use its best means. If the
West feels a strong interest in clearing the navigation of its mighty
streams, and opening roads through its vast forests, if the South is
equally zealous to push the production and augment the prices of its
great staples, it is reasonable to expect that these objects will be
pursued by the best means which offer themselves. And it may therefore
well deserve consideration, whether the commercial and navigating and
manufacturing interests of the North do not call on us to aid and
support them, by united counsels and united efforts. But I abstain from
enlarging on this topic. Let me rather say, that in regard to the whole
country a new era has arisen. In a time of peace, the proper pursuits of
peace engage society with a degree of enterprise and an intenseness of
application heretofore unknown. New objects are opening, and new
resources developed, on every side. We tread on a broader theatre; and
if, instead of acting our parts according to the novelty and importance
of the scene, we waste our strength in mutual crimination and
recrimination concerning the past, we shall resemble those navigators,
who, having escaped from some crooked and narrow river to the sea, now
that the whole ocean is before them, should, nevertheless, occupy
themselves with the differences which happened as they passed along
among the rocks and the shallows, instead of opening their eyes to the
wide horizon around them, spreading their sail to the propitious gale
that woos it, raising their quadrant to the sun, and grasping the helm
with the conscious hand of a master.
FOOTNOTES
[83] Speech delivered at a Meeting of Citizens of Boston, held in
Fatima Hall on the Evening of April 3d, 1825, preparatory to the
General Election in Massachusetts.
[84] That of President Monroe, which commenced on the 4th of March,
1817, and continued for two terms, till the 4th of March, 1825.
DINNER AT FANEUIL HALL.
At a public dinner given him on the 5th of June, 1828, by the
citizens of Boston (Hon. T. H. Perkins in the chair), as a mark of
respect for his services as Senator of the United States, and late
their Representative in Congress, after the annunciation of the
following toast, "Our distinguished guest,--worthy the noblest
homage which freemen can give or a freeman receive, the homage of
their hearts," Mr. Webster rose and spoke as follows:--
MR. CHAIRMAN,--The honor conferred by this occasion, as well as the
manner in which the meeting has been pleased to receive the toast which
has now been proposed to them from the chair, requires from me a most
respectful acknowledgment and a few words of honest and sincere thanks.
I should, indeed, be lost to all just feeling, or guilty of a weak and
puerile affectation, if I should fail to manifest the emotions which are
excited by these testimonials of regard, from those among whom I live,
who see me oftenest, and know me best. If the approbation of good men be
an object fit to be pursued, it is fit to be enjoyed; if it be, as it
doubtless is, one of the most stirring and invigorating motives which
operate upon the mind, it is also among the richest rewards which
console and gratify the heart.
I confess myself particularly touched and affected, Mr. President and
Gentlemen, by the kind feeling which you manifest towards me as your
fellow-citizen, your neighbor, and your friend. Respect and confidence,
in these relations of life, lie at the foundation of all valuable
character; they are as essential to solid and permanent reputation as to
durable and social happiness. I assure you, Sir, with the utmost
sincerity, that there is nothing which could flow from human approbation
and applause, no distinction, however high or alluring, no object of
ambition, which could possibly be brought within the horizon of my view,
that would tempt me, in any degree, justly to forfeit the attachment of
my private friends, or surrender my hold, as a citizen and a neighbor,
on the confidence of the community in which I live; a community to which
I owe so much, in the bosom of which I have enjoyed so much, and where I
still hope to remain, in the interchange of mutual good wishes and the
exercise of mutual good offices, for the residue of life.
The commendation bestowed by the meeting upon my attempts at public
service, I am conscious, is measured rather by their own kindness, than
by any other standard. Of those attempts, no one can think more humbly
than I do. The affairs of the general government, foreign and domestic,
are vast and various and complicated. They require from those who would
aspire to take a leading part in them an amount, a variety, and an
accuracy of information, which, even if the adequate capacity were not
wanting, are not easily attained by one whose attention is of necessity
mainly devoted to the duties of an active and laborious profession. For
this as well as many other reasons, I am conscious of having discharged
my public duties in a manner no way entitling them to the degree of
favor which has now been manifested.
And this manifestation of favor and regard is the more especially to be
referred to the candor and kindness of the meeting, on this occasion,
since it is well known, that in a recent instance, and in regard to an
important measure, I have felt it my duty to give a vote, in respect to
the expediency and propriety of which considerable difference of opinion
exists between persons equally entitled to my regard and confidence.[85]
The candid interpretation which has been given to that vote by those who
disapproved it, and the assembling together here, for the purposes of
this occasion, of those who felt pain, as well as those who felt
pleasure, at the success of the measure for which the vote was given,
afford ample proof, how far unsuspected uprightness of intention and the
exercise of an independent judgment may be respected, even by those who
differ from the results to which that exercise of judgment has arrived.
There is no class of the community for whose interests I have ever
cherished a more sincere regard, than that on whose pursuits some parts
of the measure alluded to bear with great severity. They are satisfied,
I hope, that, in supporting a measure in any degree injurious to them, I
must have been governed by other paramount reasons, satisfactory to my
own conscience; and that the blow inflicted on their interests was felt
by me almost as painfully and heavily as it could be by those on whom it
immediately fell. I am not now about to enter into the reason of that
vote, or to explain the necessity under which I found myself placed, by
a most strange and unprecedented manner of legislation, of taking the
evil of a public measure for the sake of its good; the good and the bad
provisions relating to different subjects, having not the slightest
connection with each other, yet yoked together, and kept together, for
reasons and purposes which I need not state, as they have been boldly
avowed, and are now before the public.
It was my misfortune, Sir, on that occasion, to differ from my most
estimable and worthy colleague;[86] and yet probably our difference was
not so broad as it might seem. We both saw in the measure something to
approve, and something to disapprove. If it could have been left to us
to mould and to frame it according to our opinions of what the good of
the country required, there would have been no diversity of judgment
between us, as to what should have been retained and what rejected. The
only difference was, when the measure had assumed its final shape,
whether the good it contained so far preponderated over its acknowledged
evil, as to justify the reception and support of the whole together. On
a point of this sort, and under circumstances such as those in which we
were placed, it is not strange that different minds should incline
different ways. It gives me great pleasure to bear testimony to the
constancy, the intelligence, and the conscious fidelity with which my
colleague discharged his public duty in reference to this subject. I am
happy also to have the opportunity of saying, that, if the bill had been
presented to me in the form it was when it received a negative vote
from the distinguished gentleman[87] who represents this Congressional
District, my own opinion of it would have entirely concurred with his,
and I should have voted in the same manner.
The meeting will indulge me with one further remark, before parting from
this subject. It is only the suggestion, that in the place I occupied I
was one of the representatives of the whole Commonwealth. I was not at
liberty to look exclusively to the interests of the district in which I
live, and which I have heretofore had the high honor of representing. I
was to extend my view from Barnstable to Berkshire; to comprehend in it
a proper regard for all interests, and a proper respect for all
opinions. Looking to the aggregate of all the interests of the
Commonwealth, and regarding the general current of opinion, so far as
that was properly to be respected, I saw, at least I thought I saw, my
duty to lie in the path which I pursued. The measure is adopted. Its
consequences, for good or evil, must be left to the results of
experience. In the mean time, I refer the propriety of the vote which I
gave, with entire submission, and with the utmost cheerfulness also, to
the judgment of the good people of the Commonwealth.
On some other subjects, Mr. President, I had the good fortune to act in
perfect unison with my colleague, and with every representative of the
State. On one, especially, the success of which, I am sure, must have
gratified every one who hears me. I could not, Sir, have met this
assembly, I could not have raised my voice in Faneuil Hall,--you would
have awed me down; if you had not, the portraits of patriots which adorn
these walls would have frowned me into silence,--if I had refused either
my vote or my voice to the cause of the officers and soldiers of the
Revolutionary army. That measure, mixed up of justice, and charity, and
mercy, is at last accomplished. The survivors of those who fought our
Revolutionary battles, under an engagement to see the contest through,
are at length provided for, not sumptuously, not extravagantly, but in a
manner to place them, in their old age, beyond the reach of absolute
want. Solace, also, has been administered to their feelings, as well as
to their necessities. They are not left to count their scars, or to
experience the pain of wounds, inflicted half a century ago, in their
country's service, without some token, that they are yet held in
grateful remembrance. A gratifying proof of respect for the services of
their youth and manhood quickens the pulsations of patriotism in veteran
bosoms; and as they may now live beyond the reach of absolute want, so
they will have the pleasure of closing life, when that time for closing
it shall come which must come to all, with the happy consciousness of
meritorious services, gratefully recompensed.
Another subject, now becoming exceedingly interesting, was, in various
forms, presented to Congress at the last session; and in regard to
which, I believe, there is, substantially, a general union of opinion
among the members from this Commonwealth; I mean what is commonly called
Internal Improvements. The great and growing importance of this subject
may, I hope, justify a few remarks relative to it on the present
occasion.
It was evident to all persons of much observation, at the close of the
late war, that the condition and prospects of the United States had
become essentially changed, in regard to sundry great interests of the
country. Almost from the formation of the government, till near the
commencement of that war, the United States had occupied a position of
singular and extraordinary advantage. They had been at peace, while the
powers of Europe had been at war. The harvest of neutrality had been to
them rich and ample; and they had reaped it with skill and diligence.
Their agriculture and commerce had both sensibly felt the benefit
arising from the existing state of the world. Bread was raised for those
whose hands were otherwise employed than in the cultivation of the
field, and the seas were navigated, for account of such as, being
belligerents, could not safely navigate them for themselves. These
opportunities for useful employment were all seized and enjoyed, by the
enterprise of the country; and a high degree of prosperity was the
natural result.
But with general peace a new state of things arose. The European states
at once turned their own attention to the pursuits proper for their new
situation, and sought to extend their own agricultural, manufacturing,
and commercial interests. It was evident, that thenceforward, instead of
our enjoying the advantages peculiar to neutrality in times of war, a
general competition would spring up, and nothing was to be expected
without a struggle. Other nations would now raise their own bread, and
as far as possible transport their own commodities; and the export trade
and the carrying trade of this country were, therefore, certain to
become the subjects of new and powerful competition, if not to receive
sudden and violent checks. It seemed reasonable, therefore, in this
state of things, to turn our thoughts inwards; to search out the
hitherto unexplored resources of our own country; to find, if we could,
new diversifications of industry and new subjects for the application of
labor at home. It was fit to consider how far home productions could
properly be made to furnish activity to home supply; and since the
country stretched over so many parallels of latitude and longitude,
abounding, of course, in the natural productions proper to each, it was
of the highest importance to inquire what means existed of establishing
free and cheap intercourse between those distant parts, thereby bringing
the raw material, abounding in one, under the action of the productive
labor which was found in another. Roads and canals, therefore, were seen
to be of the first consequence. And then the interesting question arose,
how far it was constitutionally lawful, and how far expedient, for the
general government to give aid and succor to the business of making
roads and canals, in conjunction with the enterprise of individuals or
of states. I am among those who have held the opinion, that, if any
object of that kind be of general and national importance, it is within
the scope of the powers of the government; though I admit it to be a
power which should be exercised with very great care and discretion.
Congress has power to _regulate_ commerce, both internal and external;
and whatever might have been thought to be the literal interpretation of
these terms, we know the construction to have been, from the very first
assembling of Congress, and by the very men who framed the Constitution,
that the regulation of commerce comprehended such measures as were
necessary for its support, its improvement, its advancement, and
justified the expenditure of money for such purposes as the construction
of piers, beacons, and light-houses, and the clearing out of harbors.
Instances of this sort, in the application of the general revenues, have
been frequent, from the commencement of the government. As the same
power, precisely, exists in relation to internal as to external trade,
it was not easy to see why like expenditures might not be justified,
when made on internal objects. The vast regions of the West are
penetrated by rivers, to which those of Europe are but as rills and
brooks. But the navigation of these noble streams, washing, as they do,
the margin of one third of the States of the Union, is obstructed by
obstacles, capable of being removed, and yet not likely to be removed,
but by the power of the general government. Was this a justifiable
object of expenditure from the national treasury? Without hesitation, I
have thought it was. A vast chain of lakes, if it be not more proper to
call them a succession of inland seas, stretches into the deep interior
of this northern part of the continent, as if kindly placed there by
Providence to break the continuity of the land, and afford the easier
and reader intercourse of water conveyance. But these vast lakes
required, also, harbors, and light-houses, and breakwaters. And were
these lawful objects of national legislation? To me, certainly, they
have appeared to be such, as clearly as if they were on the Atlantic
border.
In most of the new States of the West, the United States are yet
proprietors of vast bodies of land. Through some of these States, and
sometimes through these same public lands, the local authorities have
prepared to carry expensive canals, for the general benefit of the
country. Some of these undertakings have been attended with great
expense, and have subjected the States, whose enterprising spirit has
begun and carried them on, to large debts and heavy taxation. The lands
of the United States, being exempted from all taxation, of course bear
no part of this burden. Looking to the United States, therefore, as a
great landed proprietor, essentially benefited by these improvements, I
have felt no difficulty in voting for the appropriation of parts of
these lands, as a reasonable contribution by the United States to these
general objects.
Most of the subjects to which I have referred are much less local, in
their influence and importance, than they might seem. The breakwater in
the Delaware, useful to Philadelphia, is useful also to all the
ship-owners in the United States, and indeed to all interested in
commerce, especially that great branch, the coastwise commerce. If the
mouths of the Southern rivers be deepened and improved, the neighboring
cities are benefited, but so also are the ships which visit them; and if
the Mississippi and Ohio be rendered more safe for navigation, the great
markets of consumption along their shores are the more readily and
cheaply approached by the products of the factories and fisheries of New
England.
It is my opinion, Mr. President, that the present government of the
United States cannot be maintained but by administering it on principles
as wide and broad as the country over which it extends. I mean, of
course, no extension of the powers which it confers; but I speak of the
spirit with which those powers should be exercised. If there be any
doubts, whether so many republics, covering so vast a territory, can be
long held together under this Constitution, there is no doubt in my
judgment of the impossibility of so holding them together by any narrow,
local, or selfish system of legislation. To render the Constitution
perpetual (which God grant it may be), it is necessary that its benefits
should be practically felt by all parts of the country, and all
interests in the country. The East and the West, the North and the
South, must all see their own welfare protected and advanced by it.
While the eastern frontier is defended by fortifications, its harbors
improved, and commerce protected by a naval force, it is right and just
that the region beyond the Alleghanies should receive fair consideration
and equal attention, in any object of public improvement, interesting to
itself, and within the proper power of the government. These, Sir, are
in brief the general views by which I have been governed on questions of
this kind; and I trust they are such as this meeting does not
disapprove.
I would not trespass further upon your attention, if I did not feel it
my duty to say a few words on the condition of public affairs under
another aspect. We are on the eve of a new election of President; and
the manner in which the existing administration is attacked might lead a
stranger to suppose that the chief magistrate had committed some
flagrant offence against the country, had threatened to overturn its
liberties, or establish a military usurpation. On a former occasion I
have in this place expressed my opinion of the principle upon which the
opposition to the administration is founded, without any reference
whatever to the person who stands as its apparent head, and who is
intended by it to be placed in the chief executive chair. I think that
principle exceedingly dangerous and alarming, inasmuch as it does not
profess to found opposition to the government on the measures of
government, but to rest it on other causes, and those mostly personal.
There is a combination or association of persons holding the most
opposite opinions, both on the constitutional powers of the government
and on the leading measures of public concern, and uniting in little, or
in nothing, except the will to dislodge power from the hands in which
the country has placed it. There has been no leading measure of the
government, with perhaps a single exception, which has not been
strenuously maintained by many, or by some, of those who all coöperate,
nevertheless, in pursuit of the object which I have mentioned. This is
but one of many proofs that the opposition does not rest on the
principle of disapprobation of the measures of government. Many other
evidences of the same truth might be adduced easily. A remarkable one
is, that, while one ground of objection to the administration is urged
in one place, its precise opposite is pressed in another. Pennsylvania
and South Carolina, for example, are not treated with the same reasons
for a change of administration; but with flatly contradictory reasons.
In one, the administration is represented as bent on a particular system
oppressive to that State, and which must ultimately ruin it; and for
that reason there ought to be a change. In the other, that system,
instead of being ruinous, is represented as salutary, as necessary, as
indispensable. But the administration is declared to be but half in
earnest in supporting it, and for that reason there ought to be a
change.
Reflecting men have always supposed, that, if there were a weak point in
the Federal Constitution, it was in the provision for the exercise of
the executive power. And this, perhaps, may be considered as rendered
more delicate and difficult, by the great augmentation of the number of
the States. We must expect that there will often be, as there was on the
last election, several candidates for the Presidency. All but one, of
course, must be disappointed; and if the friends of all such, however
otherwise divided, are immediately to unite, and to make common cause
against him who is elected, little is ever to be expected but
embarrassment and confusion. The love of office will ere long triumph
over the love of country, and party and faction usurp the place of
wisdom and patriotism. If the contest for the executive power is thus to
be renewed every four years; if it is to be conducted as the present has
been conducted; and if every election is to be immediately followed, as
the last was followed, by a prompt union of all whose friends are not
chosen against him who is, there is, in my judgment, danger, much
danger, that this great experiment of confederated government may fail,
and that even those of us who are not among the youngest may behold its
catastrophe.
It cannot have escaped the notice of any gentleman present, that, in the
course of the controversy, pains have been taken to affect the character
and the success of the present chief magistrate, by exciting odium
towards that part of the country in which he was born and to which he
belongs. Sneers, contumely, reproach, every thing that gentlemen could
say, and many things which gentlemen could not say, have been uttered
against New England. I am sure, Sir, every true son of New England must
receive such things, when they come from sources which ought to be
considered respectable, with a feeling of just indignation; and when
proceeding from elsewhere, with contempt. If there be one among
ourselves who can be induced, by any motives, to join in this cry
against New England, he disgraces the New England mother who bore him,
the New England father who bred and nurtured him, and the New England
atmosphere which first supplied respiration to those lungs, now so
unworthily employed in uttering calumnies against his country. Persons
not known till yesterday, and having little chance of being remembered
beyond to-morrow, have affected to draw a distinction between the
patriot States and the States of New England; assigning the last to the
present President, and the rest to his rival. I do not wonder, Sir, at
the indignation and scorn which I perceive the recital of this injustice
produces here. Nothing else was to be expected. Faneuil Hall is not a
place where one is expected to hear with indifference that New England
is not to be counted among the patriot States. The patriot States! What
State was it, Sir, that was patriotic when patriotism cost something?
Where but in New England did the great drama of the Revolution open?
Where, but on the soil of Massachusetts, was the first blood poured out
in the cause of liberty and independence? Where, sooner than here, where
earlier than within the walls which now surround us, was patriotism
found, when to be patriotic was to endanger houses and homes, and wives
and children, and to be ready also to pay for the reputation of
patriotism by the sacrifice of blood and of life?
Not farther to refer to her Revolutionary merits, it may be truly said
that New England did her part, and more than her part, in the
establishment of the present government, and in giving effect to the
measures and the policy of the first President. Where, Sir, did the
measures of Washington find the most active friends and the firmest
support? Where are the general principles of his policy most widely
spread, and most deeply seated? If, in subsequent periods, different
opinions have been held by different portions of her people, New England
has, nevertheless, been always obedient to the laws, even when she most
severely felt their pressure, and most conscientiously doubted or
disbelieved their propriety. Every great and permanent institution of
the country, intended for defence or for improvement, has met her
support. And if we look to recent measures, on subjects highly
interesting to the community, and especially some portions of it, we see
proofs of the same steady and liberal policy. It may be said with entire
truth, and it ought to be said, and ought to be known, that no one
measure for internal improvement has been carried through Congress, or
could have been carried, but by the aid of New England votes. It is for
those most deeply interested in subjects of that sort to consider in
season, how far the continuance of the same aid is necessary for the
further prosecution of the same objects. From the interference of the
general government in making roads and canals, New England has as little
to hope or expect as any part of the country. She has hitherto supported
them upon principle, and from a sincere disposition to extend the
blessings and the beneficence of the government. And, Sir, I confidently
believe that those most concerned in the success of these measures feel
towards her respect and friendship. They feel that she has acted fairly
and liberally, wholly uninfluenced by selfish or sinister motives.
Those, therefore, who have seen, or thought they saw, an object to be
attained by exciting dislike and odium towards New England, are not
likely to find quite so favorable an audience as they have expected. It
will not go for quite so much as wished, to the disadvantage of the
President, that he is a native of Massachusetts. Nothing is wanting but
that we ourselves should entertain a proper feeling on this subject,
and act with a just regard to our own rights and our own duties. If I
could collect around me the whole population of New England, or if I
could cause my voice to be heard over all her green hills, or along
every one of her pleasant streams, in the exercise of true filial
affection, I would say to her, in the language of the great master of
the maxims of life and conduct,
"This above all,--to thine own self be true,
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man."
Mr. President,--I have delayed you too long. I beg to repeat my
thanks for the kindness which has been manifested towards me by my
fellow-citizens, and to conclude by reciprocating their good wishes:--
The City of Boston. Prosperity to all her interests, and happiness to
all her citizens.
FOOTNOTES
[85] The subject referred to is the tariff law of 1828. For a fuller
statement of the considerations which influenced the vote of Mr.
Webster on that subject, see his speech, in a subsequent volume
of this collection, delivered in the Senate of the United States
on the 9th of May, 1828.
[86] Hon. Nathaniel Silsbee.
[87] Hon. Benjamin Gorham.
THE BOSTON MECHANICS' INSTITUTION.[88]
I appear before you, Gentlemen, for the performance of a duty which
is in so great a degree foreign from my habitual studies and
pursuits, that it may be presumptuous in me to hope for a creditable
execution of the task. But I have not allowed considerations of this
kind to weigh against a strong and ardent desire to signify my
approbation of the objects, and my conviction of the utility, of
this institution; and to manifest my prompt attention to whatever
others may suppose to be in my power to promote its respectability
and to further its designs.
The constitution of the association declares its precise object to be,
"Mutual Instruction in the Sciences, as connected with the Mechanic
Arts."
The distinct purpose is to connect science more and more with art; to
teach the established, and invent new, modes of combining skill with
strength; to bring the power of the human understanding in aid of the
physical powers of the human frame; to facilitate the coöperation of the
mind with the hand; to promote convenience, lighten labor, and mitigate
toil, by stretching the dominion of mind farther and farther over the
elements of nature, and by making those elements themselves submit to
human rule, follow human bidding, and work together for human
happiness.
The visible and tangible creation into which we are introduced at our
birth, is not, in all its parts, fixed and stationary. Motion or change
of place, regular or occasional, belongs to all or most of the things
which are around us. Animal life everywhere moves; the earth itself has
its motion, and its complexities of motion; the ocean heaves and
subsides; rivers run, lingering or rushing, to the sea; and the air
which we breathe moves and acts with mighty power. Motion, thus
pertaining to the physical objects which surround us, is the exhaustless
fountain whence philosophy draws the means by which, in various degrees
and endless forms, natural agencies and the tendencies of inert matter
are brought to the succor and assistance of human strength. It is the
object of mechanical contrivance to modify motion, to produce it in new
forms, to direct it to new purposes, to multiply its uses, by its means
to do better that which human strength could do without its aid, and to
perform that, also, which such strength, unassisted by art, could not
perform.
Motion itself is but the result of force; or, in other words, force is
defined to be whatever tends to produce motion. The operation of forces,
therefore, on bodies, is the broad field which is open for that
philosophical examination, the results of which it is the business of
mechanical contrivance to apply. The leading forces or sources of motion
are, as is well known, the power of animals, gravity, heat, the winds,
and water. There are various others of less power, or of more difficult
application. Mechanical philosophy, therefore, may be said to be that
science which instructs us in the knowledge of natural moving powers,
animate or inanimate; in the manner of modifying those powers, and of
increasing the intensity of some of them by artificial means, such as
heat and electricity; and in applying the varieties of force and motion,
thus derived from natural agencies, to the arts of life. This is the
object of mechanical philosophy. None can doubt, certainly, the high
importance of this sort of knowledge, or fail to see how suitable it is
to the elevated rank and the dignity of reasoning beings. Man's grand
distinction is his intellect, his mental capacity. It is this which
renders him highly and peculiarly responsible to his Creator. It is on
account of this, that the rule over other animals is established in his
hands; and it is this, mainly, which enables him to exercise dominion
over the powers of nature, and to subdue them to himself.
But it is true, also, that his own animal organization gives him
superiority, and is among the most wonderful of the works of God on
earth. It contributes to cause, as well as prove, his elevated rank in
creation. His port is erect, his face toward heaven, and he is
furnished with limbs which are not absolutely necessary to his support
or locomotion, and which are at once powerful, flexible, capable of
innumerable modes and varieties of action, and terminated by an
instrument of wonderful, heavenly workmanship,--the human hand. This
marvellous physical conformation gives man the power of acting with
great effect upon external objects, in pursuance of the suggestions
of his understanding, and of applying the results of his reasoning power
to his own purposes. Without this particular formation, he would not
be man, with whatever sagacity he might have been endowed. No
bounteous grant of intellect, were it the pleasure of Heaven to make
such grant, could raise any of the brute creation to an equality with
the human race. Were it bestowed on the leviathan, he must remain,
nevertheless, in the element where alone he could maintain his
physical existence. He would still be but the inelegant, misshapen
inhabitant of the ocean, "wallowing unwieldy, enormous in his gait."
Were the elephant made to possess it, it would but teach him the
deformity of his own structure, the unsightliness of his frame,
though "the hugest of things," his disability to act on external
matter, and the degrading nature of his own physical wants, which
lead him to the deserts, and give him for his favorite home the torrid
plains of the tropics. It was placing the king of Babylon sufficiently
out of the rank of human beings, though he carried all his reasoning
faculties with him, when he was sent away to eat grass like an ox. And
this may properly suggest to our consideration, what is undeniably
true, that there is hardly a greater blessing conferred on man than his
natural wants. If he had wanted no more than the beasts, who can say
how much more than they he would have attained? Does he associate,
does he cultivate, does he build, does he navigate? The original impulse
to all these lies in his wants. It proceeds from the necessities of
his condition, and from the efforts of unsatisfied desire. Every want,
not of a low kind, physical as well as moral, which the human breast
feels, and which brutes do not feel and cannot feel, raises man by so
much in the scale of existence, and is a clear proof and a direct
instance of the favor of God towards his so much favored human
offspring. If man had been so made as to desire nothing, he would
have wanted almost every thing worth possessing.
But doubtless the reasoning faculty, the mind, is the leading and
characteristic attribute of the human race. By the exercise of this,
man arrives at the knowledge of the properties of natural bodies. This
is science, properly and emphatically so called. It is the science
of pure mathematics; and in the high branches of this science lies the
true sublime of human acquisition. If any attainment deserve that
epithet, it is the knowledge, which, from the mensuration of the
minutest dust of the balance, proceeds on the rising scale of
material bodies, everywhere weighing, everywhere measuring, everywhere
detecting and explaining the laws of force and motion, penetrating
into the secret principles which hold the universe of God together,
and balancing world against world, and system against system. When we
seek to accompany those who pursue studies at once so high, so vast,
and so exact; when we arrive at the discoveries of Newton, which pour
in day on the works of God, as if a second _fiat_ for light had gone
forth from his own mouth; when, further, we attempt to follow those
who set out where Newton paused, making his goal their starting-place,
and, proceeding with demonstration upon demonstration, and discovery
upon discovery, bring new worlds and new systems of worlds within the
limits of the known universe, failing to learn all only because all is
infinite; however we say of man, in admiration of his physical
structure, that "in form and moving he is express and admirable," it
is here, and here without irreverence, we may exclaim, "In apprehension
how like a god!" The study of the pure mathematics will of course
not be extensively pursued in an institution, which, like this, has a
direct practical tendency and aim. But it is still to be remembered,
that pure mathematics lie at the foundation of mechanical philosophy,
and that it is ignorance only which can speak or think of that sublime
science as useless research or barren speculation.
It has already been said, that the general and well-known agents usually
regarded as the principal sources of mechanical powers are gravity,
acting on solid bodies, the fall of water, which is but gravity acting
on fluids, air, heat, and animal strength. For the useful direction and
application of the first four of these, that is, of all of them which
belong to inanimate nature, some intermediate apparatus or contrivance
becomes necessary; and this apparatus, whatever its form, is a machine.
A machine is an invention for the application of motion, either by
changing the direction of the moving power, or by rendering a body in
motion capable of communicating a motion greater or less than its own to
other bodies, or by enabling it to overcome a power of greater intensity
or force than its own. And it is usually said that every machine,
however apparently complex, is capable of being resolved into some one
or more of those single machines, of which, according to one mode of
description, there are six, and according to another, three, called the
mechanical powers. But because machinery, or all mechanical contrivance,
is thus capable of resolution into a few elementary forms, it is not to
be inferred that science, or art, or both together, though pressed with
the utmost force of human genius, and cultivated by the last degree of
human assiduity, will ever exhaust the combinations into which these
elementary forms may be thrown. An indefinite, though not an infinite,
reach of invention may be expected; but indefinite, also, if not
infinite, are the possible combinations of elementary principles. The
field, then, is vast and unbounded. We know not to what yet unthought of
heights the power of man over the agencies of nature may be carried. We
only know that the last half-century has witnessed an amazingly
accelerated progress in useful discoveries, and that, at the present
moment, science and art are acting together with a new companionship,
and with the most happy and striking results. The history of mechanical
philosophy is, of itself, a very interesting subject, and will doubtless
be treated in this place fully and methodically, by stated lecturers.
It is a part of the history of man, which, like that of his domestic
habits and daily occupations, has been too seldom the subject of
research; having been thrust aside by the more dazzling topics of war
and political revolutions. We are not often conducted by historians
within the houses or huts of our ancestors, as they were centuries ago,
and made acquainted with their domestic utensils and domestic
arrangements. We see too little both of the conveniences and
inconveniences of their daily and ordinary life. There are, indeed, rich
materials for interesting details on these particulars to be collected
from the labors of Goguet and Beckmann, Henry and Turner; but still, a
thorough and well-written history of those inventions in the mechanic
arts which are now commonly known is a _desideratum_ in literature.
Human sagacity, stimulated by human wants, seizes first on the nearest
natural assistant. The power of his own arm is an early lesson among the
studies of primitive man. This is animal strength; and from this he
rises to the conception of employing, for his own use, the strength of
other animals. A stone, impelled by the power of his arm, he finds will
produce a greater effect than the arm itself; this is a species of
mechanical power. The effect results from a combination of the moving
force with the gravity of a heavy body. The limb of a tree is a rude,
but powerful instrument; it is a lever. And the mechanical powers being
all discovered, like other natural qualities, by induction (I use the
word as Bacon used it) or experience, and not by any reasoning _a
priori_, their progress has kept pace with the general civilization and
education of nations. The history of mechanical philosophy, while it
strongly illustrates in its general results the force of the human mind,
exhibits in its details most interesting pictures of ingenuity
struggling with the conception of new combinations, and of deep,
intense, and powerful thought, stretched to its utmost to find out or
deduce the general principle from the indications of particular facts.
We are now so far advanced beyond the age when the principal leading,
important mathematical discoveries were made, and they have become so
much matter of common knowledge, that it is not easy to feel their
importance, or be justly sensible what an epoch in the history of
science each constituted. The half-frantic exultation of Archimedes,
when he had solved the problem respecting the crown of Hiero, was on an
occasion and for a cause certainly well allowing very high joy. And so
also was the duplication of the cube.
The altar of Apollo, at Athens, was a square block, or cube, and to
double it, required the duplication of the cube. This was a process
involving an unascertained mathematical principle. It was quite natural,
therefore, that it should be a traditional story, that, by way of
atoning for some affront to that god, the oracle commanded the Athenians
to _double his altar_; an injunction, we know, which occupied the keen
sagacity of the Greek geometricians for more than half a century, before
they were able to obey it. It is to the great honor, however, of this
inimitable people, the Greeks, a people whose genius seems to have been
equally fitted for the investigations of science and the works of
imagination, that the immortal Euclid, centuries before our era,
composed his Elements of Geometry; a work which, for two thousand years,
has been, and still continues to be, a text-book for instruction in that
science.
A history of mechanical philosophy, however, would not begin with
Greece. There is a wonder beyond Greece. Higher up in the annals of
mankind, nearer, far nearer, to the origin of our race, out of all reach
of letters, beyond the sources of tradition, beyond all history, except
what remains in the monuments of her own art, stands Egypt, the mother
of nations! Egypt! Thebes! the Labyrinth! the Pyramids! Who shall
explain the mysteries which these names suggest? The Pyramids! Who can
inform us whether it was by mere numbers, and patience, and labor, aided
perhaps by the simple lever, or if not, by what forgotten combination of
powers, by what now unknown machines, mass was thus aggregated to mass,
and quarry piled on quarry, till solid granite seemed to cover the earth
and reach the skies?
The ancients discovered many things, but they left many things also to
be discovered; and this, as a general truth, is what our posterity a
thousand years hence will be able to say, doubtless, when we and our
generation shall be recorded also among the ancients. For, indeed, God
seems to have proposed his material universe as a standing, perpetual
study to his intelligent creatures; where, ever learning, they can yet
never learn all; and if that material universe shall last till man shall
have discovered all that is now unknown, but which by the progressive
improvement of his faculties he is capable of knowing, it will remain
through a duration beyond human measurement, and beyond human
comprehension.
The ancients knew nothing of our present system of arithmetical
notation; nothing of algebra, and, of course, nothing of the important
application of algebra to geometry. They had not learned the use of
logarithms, and were ignorant of fluxions. They had not attained to any
just mode for the mensuration of the earth; a matter of great moment to
astronomy, navigation, and other branches of useful knowledge. It is
scarcely necessary to add, that they were ignorant of the great results
which have followed the development of the principle of gravitation.
In the useful and practical arts, many inventions and contrivances, to
the production of which the degree of knowledge possessed by the
ancients would appear to us to have been adequate, and which seem quite
obvious, are yet of late origin. The application of water, for example,
to turn a mill, is a thing not known to have been accomplished at all in
Greece, and is not supposed to have been attempted at Rome till in or
near the age of Augustus. The production of the same effect by wind is a
still later invention. It dates only in the seventh century of our era.
The propulsion of the saw by any other power than that of the arm is
treated as a novelty in England, so late as in the middle of the
sixteenth century. The Bishop of Ely, at that time ambassador from the
queen of England to the Pope, says, "he saw, at Lyons, a sawmill driven
with an upright wheel, and the water that maketh it go is gathered whole
into a narrow trough, which delivereth the same water to the wheels.
This wheel hath a piece of timber put to the axletree end, like the
handle of a _broch_ (a hand-organ), and fastened to the end of the saw,
which being turned with the force of water, hoisteth up and down the
saw, that it continually eateth in, and the handle of the same is kept
in a rigall of wood, from swerving. Also the timber lieth, as it were,
upon a ladder, which is brought by little and little to the saw with
another vice."[89] From this description of the primitive power-saw, it
would seem that it was probably fast only at one end, and that the broch
and rigall performed the part of the arm in the common use of the
handsaw.
It must always have been a very considerable object for men to possess
or obtain the power of raising water otherwise than by mere manual
labor. Yet nothing like the common suction-pump has been found among
rude nations. It has arrived at its present state only by slow and
cautious steps of improvement; and, indeed, in that present state,
however obvious and unattractive, it is something of an abstruse and
refined invention. It was unknown in China, until Europeans visited the
"Celestial Empire"; and is still unknown in other parts of Asia, beyond
the pale of European settlements or the reach of European communication.
The Greeks and Romans are supposed to have been ignorant of it, in the
early times of their history; and it is usually said to have come from
Alexandria, where physical science was much cultivated by the Greek
philosophers, under the patronage of the Ptolemies.
These few and scattered historical notices, Gentlemen, of important
inventions, have been introduced only for the purpose of suggesting that
there is much which is both curious and instructive in the history of
mechanics; and that many things which to us, in our state of knowledge,
seem so obvious as that we should think they would at once force
themselves on men's adoption, have, nevertheless, been accomplished
slowly and by painful efforts.
But if the history of the progress of the mechanical arts be
interesting, still more so, doubtless, would be the exhibition of their
present state, and a full display of the extent to which they are now
carried. This field is much too wide to be entered on this occasion. The
briefest outline even would exceed its limits; and the whole subject
will regularly fall to hands much more able to sustain it. The slightest
glance, however, must convince us that mechanical power and mechanical
skill, as they are now exhibited in Europe and America, mark an epoch in
human history worthy of all admiration. Machinery is made to perform
what has formerly been the toil of human hands, to an extent that
astonishes the most sanguine, with a degree of power to which no number
of human arms is equal, and with such precision and exactness as almost
to suggest the notion of reason and intelligence in the machines
themselves. Every natural agent is put unrelentingly to the task. The
winds work, the waters work, the elasticity of metals works; gravity is
solicited into a thousand new forms of action; levers are multiplied
upon levers; wheels revolve on the peripheries of other wheels; the saw
and the plane are tortured into an accommodation to new uses, and, last
of all, with inimitable power, and "with whirlwind sound," comes the
potent agency of steam. In comparison with the past, what centuries of
improvement has this single agent comprised, in the short compass of
fifty years! Everywhere practicable, everywhere efficient, it has an arm
a thousand times stronger than that of Hercules, and to which human
ingenuity is capable of fitting a thousand times as many hands as
belonged to Briareus. Steam is found in triumphant operation on the
seas; and under the influence of its strong propulsion, the gallant
ship,
"Against the wind, against the tide,
Still _steadies_, with an upright keel."
It is on the rivers, and the boatman may repose on his oars; it is on
highways, and begins to exert itself along the courses of land
conveyance; it is at the bottom of mines, a thousand feet below the
earth's surface; it is in the mill, and in the workshops of the trades.
It rows, it pumps, it excavates, it carries, it draws, it lifts, it
hammers, it spins, it weaves, it prints. It seems to say to men, at
least to the class of artisans, "Leave off your manual labor, give over
your bodily toil; bestow but your skill and reason to the directing of
my power, and I will bear the toil,--with no muscle to grow weary, no
nerve to relax, no breast to feel faintness." What further improvements
may still be made in the use of this astonishing power, it is impossible
to know, and it were vain to conjecture. What we do know is, that it has
most essentially altered the face of affairs, and that no visible limit
yet appears, beyond which its progress is seen to be impossible. If its
power were now to be annihilated, if we were to miss it on the water and
in the mills, it would seem as if we were going back to rude ages.
This society, then, Gentlemen, is instituted for the purpose of further
and further applying science to the arts, at a time when there is much
of science to be applied. Philosophy and the mathematics have attained
to high degrees, and still stretch their wings like the eagle.
Chemistry, at the same time, acting in another direction, has made
equally important discoveries, capable of a direct application to the
purposes of life. Here, again, within so short a period as the lives of
some of us, almost all that is known has been learned. And while there
is this aggregate of science, already vast, but still rapidly
increasing, offering itself to the ingenuity of mechanical contrivance,
there is a corresponding demand for every work and invention of art,
produced by the wants of a rich, an enterprising, and an elegant age.
Associations like this, therefore, have materials to work upon, ends to
work for, and encouragement to work.
It may not be improper to suggest, that not only are the general
circumstances of the age favorable to such institutions as this, but
that there seems a high degree of propriety that one or more should be
established here, in the metropolis of New England. In no other part of
the country is there so great a concentration of mechanical operations.
Events have given to New England the lead in the great business of
domestic manufactures. Her thickened population, her energetic free
labor, her abundant falls of water, and various other causes, have led
her citizens to engage, with great boldness, in extensive manufactures.
The success of their establishments depends, of course, in no small
degree, upon the perfection to which machinery may be carried.
Improvement in this, therefore, instead of being left to chance or
accident, is justly regarded as a fit subject of assiduous study. The
attention of our community is also, at the present moment, strongly
attracted towards the construction of canals, railways, dry docks, and
other important public works. Civil engineering is becoming a
profession, offering honorable support and creditable distinction to
such as may qualify themselves to discharge its duties. Another
interesting fact is before us. New taste and a new excitement are
evidently springing up in our vicinity in regard to an art, which, as it
unites in a singular degree utility and beauty, affords inviting
encouragements to genius and skill. I mean Architecture. Architecture is
military, naval, sacred, civil, or domestic. Naval architecture,
certainly, is of the highest importance to a commercial and navigating
people to say nothing of its intimate and essential connection with the
means of national defence. This science should not be regarded as having
already reached its utmost perfection. It seems to have been for some
time in a course of rapid advancement. The building, the rigging, the
navigating of ships, have, within the knowledge of every one, been
subjects of great improvement within the last fifteen years. And where,
rather than in New England, may still further improvements be looked
for? Where is ship-building either a greater business, or pursued with
more skill and eagerness?
In civil, sacred, and domestic architecture, present appearances
authorize the strongest hopes of improvement. These hopes rest, among
other things, on unambiguous indications of the growing prevalence of a
just taste. The principles of architecture are founded in nature, or
good sense, as much as the principles of epic poetry. This art
constitutes a beautiful medium between what belongs to mere fancy and
what belongs entirely to the exact sciences. In its forms and
modifications it admits of infinite variation, giving broad room for
invention and genius; while, in its general principles, it is founded
on that which long experience and the concurrent judgment of ages have
ascertained to be generally pleasing. Certain relations of parts to
parts have been satisfactory to all the cultivated generations of men.
These relations constitute what is called _proportion_, and this is the
great basis of architectural art. This established proportion is not to
be _followed_ merely because it is ancient, but because its use, and the
pleasure which it has been found capable of giving to the mind, through
the eye, in ancient times, and modern times, and all civilized times,
prove that its principles are well founded and just; in the same manner
that the Iliad is proved, by the consent of all ages, to be a good
poem.
Architecture, I have said, is an art that unites in a singular manner
the useful and the beautiful. It is not to be inferred from this that
every thing in architecture is beautiful, or is to be so esteemed, in
exact proportion to its apparent utility. No more is meant, than that
nothing which evidently thwarts utility can or ought to be accounted
beautiful; because, in every work of art, the design is to be regarded,
and what defeats that design cannot be considered as well done. The
French rhetoricians have a maxim, that, in literary composition,
"nothing is beautiful which is not true." They do not intend to say,
that strict and literal truth is alone beautiful in poetry or oratory;
but they mean, that that which grossly offends against probability is
not in good taste in either. The same relation subsists between beauty
and utility in architecture as between truth and imagination in poetry.
Utility is not to be obviously sacrificed to beauty, in the one case;
truth and probability are not to be outraged for the cause of fiction
and fancy, in the other. In the severer styles of architecture, beauty
and utility approach so as to be almost identical. Where utility is more
especially the main design, the proportions which produce it raise the
sense or feeling of beauty, by a sort of reflection or deduction of the
mind. It is said that ancient Rome had perhaps no finer specimens of the
classic Doric than the sewers which ran under her streets, and which
were of course always to be covered from human observation: so true is
it, that cultivated taste is always pleased with justness of proportion;
and that design, seen to be accomplished, gives pleasure. The discovery
and fast-increasing use of a noble material, found in vast abundance
nearer to our city than the Pentelican quarries to Athens, may well
awaken, as they do, new attention to architectural improvement. If this
material be not entirely well suited to the elegant Ionic or the rich
Corinthian, it is yet fitted, beyond marble, beyond perhaps almost any
other material, for the Doric, of which the appropriate character is
strength, and for the Gothic, of which the appropriate character is
grandeur.
It is not more than justice, perhaps, to our ancestors, to call the
Gothic the English classic architecture; for in England, probably, are
its most distinguished specimens. As its leading characteristic is
grandeur, its main use would seem to be sacred. It had its origin,
indeed, in ecclesiastical architecture. Its evident design was to
surpass the ancient orders by the size of the structure and its far
greater heights; to excite perceptions of beauty by the branching
traceries and the gorgeous tabernacles within; and to inspire religious
awe and reverence by the lofty pointed arches, the flying buttresses,
the spires, and the pinnacles, springing from beneath, and stretching
upwards towards the heavens with the prayers of the worshippers.
Architectural beauty having always a direct reference to utility,
edifices, whether civil or sacred, must of course undergo different
changes, in different places, on account of climate, and in different
ages, on account of the different states of other arts or different
notions of convenience. The hypethral temple, for example, or temple
without a roof, is not to be thought of in our latitude; and the use of
glass, a thing not now to be dispensed with, is also to be accommodated,
as well as it may be, to the architectural structure. These necessary
variations, and many more admissible ones, give room for improvements to
an indefinite extent, without departing from the principles of true
taste. May we not hope, then, to see our own city celebrated as the city
of architectural excellence? May we not hope to see our native granite
reposing in the ever-during strength of the Doric, or springing up in
the grand and lofty Gothic, in forms which beauty and utility, the eye
and the judgment, taste and devotion, shall unite to approve and to
admire? But while we regard sacred and civil architecture as highly
important, let us not forget that other branch, so essential to personal
comfort and happiness,--domestic architecture or common house-building.
In ancient times, in all governments, and under despotic governments in
all times, the convenience or gratification of the monarch, the
government, or the public has been allowed too often to put aside
considerations of personal and individual happiness. With us, different
ideas happily prevail. With us, it is not the public, or the government,
in its corporate character, that is the only object of regard. The
public happiness is to be the aggregate of the happiness of individuals.
Our system begins with the individual man. It begins with him when he
leaves the cradle; and it proposes to instruct him in knowledge and in
morals, to prepare him for his state of manhood; on his arrival at that
state, to invest him with political rights, to protect him in his
property and pursuits, and in his family and social connections; and
thus to enable him to enjoy, as an individual moral and rational being,
what belongs to a moral and rational being. For the same reason, the
arts are to be promoted for their general utility, as they affect the
personal happiness and well-being of the individuals who compose the
community. It would be adverse to the whole spirit of our system, that
we should have gorgeous and expensive public buildings, if individuals
were at the same time to live in houses of mud. Our public edifices are
to be reared by the surplus of wealth and the savings of labor, after
the necessities and comforts of individuals are provided for; and not,
like the Pyramids, by the unremitted toil of thousands of half-starved
slaves. Domestic architecture, therefore, as connected with individual
comfort and happiness, is to hold a first place in the esteem of our
artists. Let our citizens have houses cheap, but comfortable; not gaudy,
but in good taste; not judged by the portion of earth they cover, but by
their symmetry, their fitness for use, and their durability.
Without further reference to particular arts with which the objects of
this society have a close connection, it may yet be added, generally,
that this is a period of great activity, of industry, of enterprise in
the various walks of life. It is a period, too, of growing wealth and
increasing prosperity. It is a time when men are fast multiplying, but
when means are increasing still faster than men. An auspicious moment,
then, it is, full of motive and encouragement, for the vigorous
prosecution of those inquiries which have for their object the discovery
of farther and farther means of uniting the results of scientific
research to the arts and business of life.
FOOTNOTES
[88] Introductory Lecture, read at this Opening of the Course for the
Season, on the 12th of November, 1828.
[89] See Beckmann's Inventions, Vol. I. p. 373, where the passage is
quoted from the Miscellaneous State Papers.
PUBLIC DINNER AT NEW YORK.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
In February, 1831, several distinguished gentlemen of the city cf New
York, in behalf of themselves and a large number of other citizens,
invited Mr. Webster to a public dinner, as a mark of their respect for
the value and success of his efforts, in the preceding session of
Congress, in defence of the Constitution of the United States. His
speech in reply to Mr. Hayne (contained in a subsequent volume of this
collection), which, by that time, had been circulated and read through
the country to a greater extent than any speech ever before delivered in
Congress, was the particular effort which led to this invitation.
The dinner took place at the City Hotel, on the 10th of March, and was
attended by a very large assembly.
Chancellor Kent presided, and, in proposing to the company the health of
their guest, made the following remarks:--
"New England has been long fruitful in great men, the necessary
consequence of the admirable discipline of her institutions--and we
are this day honored with the presence of one of those cherished
objects of her attachment and pride, who has an undoubted and
peculiar title to our regard. It is a plain truth, that he who
defends the constitution of his country by his wisdom in council is
entitled to share her gratitude with those who protect it by valor
in the field. Peace has its victories as well as war. We all
recollect a late memorable occasion, when the exalted talents and
enlightened patriotism of the gentleman to whom I have alluded were
exerted in the support of our national Union and the sound
interpretation of its charter.
"If there be any one political precept preëminent above all others
and acknowledged by all, it is that which dictates the absolute
necessity of a union of the States under one government, and that
government clothed with those attributes and powers with which the
existing Constitution has invested it. We are indebted, under
Providence, to the operation and influence of the powers of that
Constitution for our national honor abroad and for unexampled
prosperity at home. Its future stability depends upon the firm
support and due exercise of its legitimate powers in all their
branches. A tendency to disunion, to anarchy among the members
rather than to tyranny in the head, has been heretofore the
melancholy fate of all the federal governments of ancient and
modern Europe. Our Union and national Constitution were formed, as
we have hitherto been led to believe, under better auspices and with
improved wisdom. But there was a deadly principle of disease
inherent in the system. The assumption by any member of the Union of
the right to question and resist, or annul, as its own judgment
should dictate, either the laws of Congress, or the treaties, or the
decisions of the federal courts, or the mandates of the executive
power, duly made and promulgated as the Constitution prescribes, was
a most dangerous assumption of power, leading to collision and the
destruction of the system. And if, contrary to all our expectations,
we should hereafter fail in the grand experiment of a confederate
government extending over some of the fairest portions of this
continent, and destined to act, at the same time, with efficiency
and harmony, we should most grievously disappoint the hopes of
mankind, and blast for ever the fruits of the Revolution.
"But, happily for us, the refutation of such dangerous pretensions,
on the occasion referred to, was signal and complete. The false
images and delusive theories which had perplexed the thoughts and
disturbed the judgments of men, were then dissipated in like manner
as spectres disappear at the rising of the sun. The inestimable
value of the Union, and the true principles of the Constitution,
were explained by clear and accurate reasonings, and enforced by
pathetic and eloquent illustrations. The result was the more
auspicious, as the heretical doctrines which were then fairly
reasoned down had been advanced by a very respectable portion of the
Union, and urged on the floor of the Senate by the polished mind,
manly zeal, and honored name of a distinguished member from the
South.
"The consequences of that discussion have been extremely beneficial.
It turned the attention of the public to the great doctrines of
national rights and national union. Constitutional law ceased to
remain wrapped up in the breasts, and taught only by the responses,
of the living oracles of the law. Socrates was said to have drawn
down philosophy from the skies, and scattered it among the schools.
It may with equal truth be said that constitutional law, by means of
those senatorial discussions and the master genius that guided them,
was rescued from the archives of our tribunals and the libraries of
lawyers, and placed under the eye, and submitted to the judgment, of
the American people. _Their verdict is with us, and from it their
lies no appeal._"
As soon as the immense cheering and acclamations with which this address
and toast were received had subsided, Mr. Webster rose and addressed the
company as follows.
PUBLIC DINNER AT NEW YORK.
I owe the honor of this occasion, Gentlemen, to your patriotic and
affectionate attachment to the Constitution of our country. For an
effort, well intended, however otherwise of unpretending character, made
in the discharge of public duty, and designed to maintain the
Constitution and vindicate its just powers, you have been pleased to
tender me this token of your respect. It would be idle affectation to
deny that it gives me singular gratification. Every public man must
naturally desire the approbation of his fellow-citizens; and though it
may be supposed that I should be anxious, in the first place, not to
disappoint the expectations of those whose immediate representative I
am, it is not possible but that I should feel, nevertheless, the high
value of such a mark of esteem as is here offered. But, Gentlemen, I am
conscious that the main purpose of this occasion is higher than mere
manifestation of personal regard. It is to evince your devotion to the
Constitution, your sense of its transcendent value, and your just alarm
at whatever threatens to weaken its proper authority, or endanger its
existence.
Gentlemen, this could hardly be otherwise. It would be strange, indeed,
if the members of this vast commercial community should not be first and
foremost to rally for the Constitution, whenever opinions and doctrines
are advanced hostile to its principles. Where sooner than here, where
louder than here, may we expect a patriotic voice to be raised, when the
union of the States is threatened? In this great emporium, at this
central point of the united commerce of the United States, of all
places, we may expect the warmest, the most determined and universal
feeling of attachment to the national government. Gentlemen, no one can
estimate more highly than I do the natural advantages of your city. No
one entertains a higher opinion than myself, also, of that spirit of
wise and liberal policy, which has actuated the government of your own
great State in the accomplishment of high objects, important to the
growth and prosperity both of the State and the city. But all these
local advantages, and all this enlightened state policy, could never
have made your city what it now is, without the aid and protection of a
general government, extending over all the States, and establishing for
all a common and uniform system of commercial regulation. Without
national character, without public credit, without systematic finance,
without uniformity of commercial laws, all other advantages possessed by
this city would have decayed and perished, like unripe fruit. A general
government was, for years before it was instituted, the great object of
desire to the inhabitants of this city. New York, at a very early day,
was conscious of her local advantages for commerce; she saw her destiny,
and was eager to embrace it; but nothing else than a general government
could make free her path before her, and set her forward on her
brilliant career. She early saw all this, and to the accomplishment of
this great and indispensable object she bent every faculty, and exerted
every effort. She was not mistaken. She formed no false judgment. At the
moment of the adoption of the Constitution, New York was the capital of
one State, and contained thirty-two or three thousand people. It now
contains more than two hundred thousand people, and is justly regarded
as the commercial capital, not only of all the United States, but of the
whole continent also, from the pole to the South Sea. Every page of her
history, for the last forty years, bears high and irresistible testimony
to the benefits and blessings of the general government. Her astonishing
growth is referred to, and quoted, all the world over, as one of the
most striking proofs of the effects of our Federal Union. To suppose her
now to be easy and indifferent, when notions are advanced tending to its
dissolution, would be to suppose her equally forgetful of the past and
blind to the present, alike ignorant of her own history and her own
interest, metamorphosed, from all that she has been, into a being tired
of its prosperity, sick of its own growth and greatness, and infatuated
for its own destruction. Every blow aimed at the union of the States
strikes on the tenderest nerve of her interest and her happiness. To
bring the Union into debate is to bring her own future prosperity into
debate also. To speak of arresting the laws of the Union, of interposing
State power in matters of commerce and revenue, of weakening the full
and just authority of the general government, would be, in regard to
this city, but another mode of speaking of commercial ruin, of abandoned
wharfs, of vacated houses, of diminished and dispersing population, of
bankrupt merchants, of mechanics without employment, and laborers
without bread. The growth of this city and the Constitution of the
United States are coevals and contemporaries. They began together, they
have flourished together, and if rashness and folly destroy one, the
other will follow it to the tomb.
Gentlemen, it is true, indeed, that the growth of this city is
extraordinary, and almost unexampled. It is now, I believe, sixteen or
seventeen years since I first saw it. Within that comparatively short
period, it has added to its number three times the whole amount of its
population when the Constitution was adopted. Of all things having power
to check this prosperity, of all things potent to blight and blast it,
of all things capable of compelling this city to recede as fast as she
has advanced, a disturbed government, an enfeebled public authority, a
broken or a weakened union of the States, would be most efficacious.
This would be cause efficient enough. Every thing else, in the common
fortune of communities, she may hope to resist or to prevent; but this
would be fatal as the arrow of death.
Gentlemen, you have personal recollections and associations, connected
with the establishment and adoption of the Constitution, which are
necessarily called up on an occasion like this. It is impossible to
forget the prominent agency exercised by eminent citizens of your own,
in regard to that great measure. Those great men are now recorded among
the illustrious dead; but they have left names never to be forgotten,
and never to be remembered without respect and veneration. Least of all
can they be forgotten by you, when assembled here for the purpose of
signifying your attachment to the Constitution, and your sense of its
inestimable importance to the happiness of the people.
I should do violence to my own feelings, Gentlemen, I think I should
offend yours, if I omitted respectful mention of distinguished names yet
fresh in your recollections. How can I stand here, to speak of the
Constitution of the United States, of the wisdom of its provisions, of
the difficulties attending its adoption, of the evils from which it
rescued the country, and of the prosperity and power to which it has
raised it, and yet pay no tribute to those who were highly instrumental
in accomplishing the work? While we are here to rejoice that it yet
stands firm and strong, while we congratulate one another that we live
under its benign influence, and cherish hopes of its long duration, we
cannot forget who they were that, in the day of our national infancy, in
the times of despondency and despair, mainly assisted to work out our
deliverance. I should feel that I was unfaithful to the strong
recollections which the occasion presses upon us, that I was not true to
gratitude, not true to patriotism, not true to the living or the dead,
not true to your feelings or my own, if I should forbear to make mention
of ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
Coming from the military service of the country yet a youth, but with
knowledge and maturity, even in civil affairs, far beyond his years,
he made this city the place of his adoption; and he gave the whole
powers of his mind to the contemplation of the weak and distracted
condition of the country. Daily increasing in acquaintance and
confidence with the people of New York, he saw, what they also saw,
the absolute necessity of some closer bond of union for the States.
This was the great object of desire. He never appears to have lost
sight of it, but was found in the lead whenever any thing was to be
attempted for its accomplishment One experiment after another, as is
well known, was tried, and all failed. The States were urgently called
on to confer such further powers on the old Congress as would enable
it to redeem the public faith, or to adopt, themselves, some general
and common principle of commercial regulation. But the States had not
agreed, and were not likely to agree. In this posture of affairs, so
full of public difficulty and public distress, commissioners from five
or six of the States met, on the request of Virginia, at Annapolis, in
September, 1786. The precise object of their appointment was to take
into consideration the trade of the United States; to examine the
relative situations and trade of the several States; and to consider
how far a uniform system of commercial regulations was necessary to
their common interest and permanent harmony. Mr. Hamilton was one of
these commissioners; and I have understood, though I cannot assert the
fact, that their report was drawn by him. His associate from this
State was the venerable Judge Benson, who has lived long, and still
lives, to see the happy results of the counsels which originated in this
meeting. Of its members, he and Mr. Madison are, I believe, now the
only survivors. These commissioners recommended, what took place the
next year, a general Convention of all the States, to take into serious
deliberation the condition of the country, and devise such provisions
as should render the constitution of the federal government adequate
to the exigencies of the Union. I need not remind you, that of this
Convention Mr. Hamilton was an active and efficient member. The
Constitution was framed, and submitted to the country. And then
another great work was to be undertaken. The Constitution would
naturally find, and did find, enemies and opposers. Objections to it
were numerous, and powerful, and spirited. They were to be answered; and
they were effectually answered. The writers of the numbers of the
Federalist, Mr. Hamilton, Mr. Madison, and Mr. Jay, so greatly
distinguished themselves in their discussions of the Constitution,
that those numbers are generally received as important commentaries
on the text, and accurate expositions, in general, of its objects and
purposes. Those papers were all written and published in this city. Mr.
Hamilton was elected one of the distinguished delegation from the city
to the State Convention at Poughkeepsie, called to ratify the new
Constitution. Its debates are published. Mr. Hamilton appears to have
exerted, on this occasion, to the utmost, every power and faculty of
his mind.
The whole question was likely to depend on the decision of New York. He
felt the full importance of the crisis; and the reports of his speeches,
imperfect as they probably are, are yet lasting monuments to his genius
and patriotism. He saw at last his hopes fulfilled; he saw the
Constitution adopted, and the government under it established and
organized. The discerning eye of Washington immediately called him to
that post, which was far the most important in the administration of the
new system. He was made Secretary of the Treasury; and how he fulfilled
the duties of such a place, at such a time, the whole country perceived
with delight and the whole world saw with admiration. He smote the rock
of the national resources, and abundant streams of revenue gushed forth.
He touched the dead corpse of the Public Credit, and it sprung upon its
feet. The fabled birth of Minerva, from the brain of Jove, was hardly
more sudden or more perfect than the financial system of the United
States, as it burst forth from the conceptions of ALEXANDER HAMILTON.
Your recollections, Gentlemen, your respect, and your affections, all
conspire to bring before you, at such a time as this, another great
man, now too numbered with the dead. I mean the pure, the disinterested,
the patriotic JOHN JAY. His character is a brilliant jewel in the
sacred treasures of national reputation. Leaving his profession at an
early period, yet not before he had singularly distinguished himself in
it, his whole life, from the commencement of the Revolution until his
final retirement, was a life of public service. A member of the first
Congress, he was the author of that political paper which is generally
acknowledged to stand first among the incomparable productions of that
body;[90] productions which called forth that decisive strain of
commendation from the great Lord Chatham, in which he pronounced them
not inferior to the finest productions of the master states of the
world. Mr. Jay had been abroad, and he had also been long intrusted
with the difficult duties of our foreign correspondence at home. He had
seen and felt, in the fullest measure and to the greatest possible
extent, the difficulty of conducting our foreign affairs honorably and
usefully, without a stronger and more perfect domestic union. Though
not a member of the Convention which framed the Constitution, he was
yet present while it was in session, and looked anxiously for its
result. By the choice of this city, he had a seat in the State
Convention, and took an active and zealous part for the adoption of
the Constitution. On the organization of the new government, he was
selected by Washington to be the first Chief Justice of the Supreme
Court of the United States; and surely the high and most responsible
duties of that station could not have been trusted to abler or safer
hands. It is the duty of that tribunal, one of equal importance and
delicacy, to decide constitutional questions, occasionally arising
on State laws. The general learning and ability, and especially the
prudence, the mildness, and the firmness of his character, eminently
fitted Mr. Jay to be the head of such a court. When the spotless
ermine of the judicial robe fell on John Jay, it touched nothing
less spotless than itself.
These eminent men, Gentlemen, the contemporaries of some of you, known
to most, and revered by all, were so conspicuous in the framing and
adopting of the Constitution, and called so early to important stations
under it, that a tribute, better, indeed, than I have given, or am able
to give, seemed due to them from us, on this occasion.
There was yet another, of whom mention is to be made. In the
Revolutionary history of the country, the name of CHANCELLOR LIVINGSTON
became early prominent. He was a member of that Congress which declared
Independence; and a member, too, of the committee which drew and
reported the immortal Declaration. At the period of the adoption of the
Constitution, he was its firm friend and able advocate. He was a member
of the State Convention, being one of that list of distinguished and
gifted men who represented this city in that body; and he threw the
whole weight of his talents and influence into the doubtful scale of the
Constitution.
Gentlemen, as connected with the Constitution, you have also local
recollections which must bind it still closer to your attachment and
affection. It commenced its being and its blessings here. It was in this
city, in the midst of friends, anxious, hopeful, and devoted, that the
new government started in its course. To us, Gentlemen, who are younger,
it has come down by tradition; but some around me are old enough to have
witnessed, and did witness, the interesting scene of the first
inauguration. They remember what voices of gratified patriotism, what
shouts of enthusiastic hope, what acclamations rent the air, how many
eyes were suffused with tears of joy, how cordially each man pressed the
hand of him who was next to him, when, standing in the open air, in the
centre of the city, in the view of assembled thousands, the first
President of the United States was heard solemnly to pronounce the words
of his official oath, repeating them from the lips of Chancellor
Livingston. You then thought, Gentlemen, that the great work of the
Revolution was accomplished. You then felt that you had a government;
that the United States were then, indeed, united. Every benignant star
seemed to shed its selectest influence on that auspicious hour. Here
were heroes of the Revolution; here were sages of the Convention; here
were minds, disciplined and schooled in all the various fortunes of the
country, acting now in several relations, but all coöperating to the
same great end, the successful administration of the new and untried
Constitution. And he,--how shall I speak of him?--he was at the head,
who was already first in war, who was already first in the hearts of his
countrymen, and who was now shown also, by the unanimous suffrage of the
country, to be first in peace.
Gentlemen, how gloriously have the hopes then indulged been fulfilled!
Whose expectation was then so sanguine, I may almost ask, whose
imagination then so extravagant, as to run forward, and contemplate
as probable, the one half of what has been accomplished in forty
years? Who among you can go back to 1789, and see what this city, and
this country, too, then were; and, beholding what they now are, can be
ready to consent that the Constitution of the United States shall be
weakened,--dishonored,--_nullified_?
Gentlemen, before I leave these pleasant recollections, I feel it an
irresistible impulse of duty to pay a tribute of respect to another
distinguished person, not, indeed, a fellow-citizen of your own, but
associated with those I have already mentioned in important labors, and
an early and indefatigable friend and advocate in the great cause of the
Constitution. I refer to MR. MADISON. I am aware, Gentlemen, that a
tribute of regard from me to him is of little importance; but if it
shall receive your approbation and sanction, it will become of value.
Mr. Madison, thanks to a kind Providence, is yet among the living, and
there is certainly no other individual living, to whom the country is so
much indebted for the blessings of the Constitution. He was one of the
commissioners who met at Annapolis, in 1786, to which meeting I have
already referred, and which, to the great credit of Virginia, had its
origin in a proceeding of that State. He was a member of the Convention
of 1787, and of that of Virginia in the following year. He was thus
intimately acquainted with the whole progress of the formation of the
Constitution, from its very first step to its final adoption. If ever
man had the means of understanding a written instrument, Mr. Madison has
the means of understanding the Constitution. If it be possible to know
what was designed by it, he can tell us. It was in this city, that, in
conjunction with Mr. Hamilton and Mr. Jay, he wrote the numbers of the
Federalist; and it was in this city that he commenced his brilliant
career under the new Constitution, having been elected into the House of
Representatives of the first Congress. The recorded votes and debates of
those times show his active and efficient agency in every important
measure of that Congress. The necessary organization of the government,
the arrangement of the departments, and especially the paramount subject
of revenue, engaged his attention, and divided his labors.
The legislative history of the first two or three years of the
government is full of instruction. It presents, in striking light, the
evils intended to be remedied by the Constitution, and the provisions
which were deemed essential to the remedy of those evils. It exhibits
the country, in the moment of its change from a weak and ill-defined
confederacy of States, into a general, efficient, but still restrained
and limited government. It shows the first working of our peculiar
system, moved, as it then was, by master hands.
Gentlemen, for one, I confess I like to dwell on this part of our
history. It is good for us to be here. It is good for us to study the
situation of the country at this period, to survey its difficulties, to
look at the conduct of its public men, to see how they struggled with
obstacles, real and formidable, and how gloriously they brought the
Union out of its state of depression and distress. Truly, Gentlemen,
these founders and fathers of the Constitution were great men, and
thoroughly furnished for every good work. All that reading and learning
could do; all that talent and intelligence could do; and, what perhaps
is still more, all that long experience in difficult and troubled times
and a deep and intimate practical knowledge of the condition of the
country could do,--conspired to fit them for the great business of
forming a general, but limited government, embracing common objects,
extending over all the States, and yet touching the power of the States
no further than those common objects require. I confess I love to linger
around these original fountains, and to drink deep of their waters. I
love to imbibe, in as full measure as I may, the spirit of those who
laid the foundations of the government, and so wisely and skilfully
balanced and adjusted its bearings and proportions.
Having been afterwards, for eight years, Secretary of State, and as
long President, Mr. Madison has had an experience in the affairs of the
Constitution, certainly second to no man. More than any other man
living, and perhaps more than any other who has lived, his whole
public life has been incorporated, as it were, into the Constitution;
in the original conception and project of attempting to form it, in its
actual framing, in explaining and recommending it, by speaking and
writing, in assisting at the first organization of the government
under it, and in a long administration of its executive powers,--in
these various ways he has lived near the Constitution, and with the
power of imbibing its true spirit, and inhaling its very breath, from
its first pulsation of life. Again, therefore, I ask, If he cannot tell
us what the Constitution is, and what it means, who can? He had
retired with the respect and regard of the community, and might
naturally be supposed not willing to interfere again in matters of
political concern. He has, nevertheless, not withholden his opinions on
the vital question discussed on that occasion, which has caused this
meeting. He has stated, with an accuracy almost peculiar to himself,
and so stated as, in my opinion, to place almost beyond further
controversy, the true doctrines of the Constitution. He has stated, not
notions too loose and irregular to be called even a theory, not ideas
struck out by the feeling of present inconvenience or supposed
mal-administration, not suggestions of expediency, or evasions of
fair and straightforward construction, but elementary principles,
clear and sound distinctions, and indisputable truths. I am sure,
Gentlemen, that I speak your sentiments, as well as my own, when I
say, that, for making public so clearly and distinctly as he has done
his own opinions on these vial questions of constitutional law, Mr.
Madison has founded a new and strong claim on the gratitude of a
grateful country. You will think, with me, that, at his advanced age,
and in the enjoyment of general respect and approbation for a long
career of public services, it was an act of distinguished patriotism,
when he saw notions promulgated and maintained which he deemed unsound
and dangerous, not to hesitate to come forward and to place the
weight of his own opinion in what he deemed the right scale, come
what come might. I am sure, Gentlemen, it cannot be doubted,--the
manifestation is clear,--that the country feels deeply the force of
this new obligation.[91]
Gentlemen, what I have said of the benefits of the Constitution to your
city might be said, with little change, in respect to every other part
of the country. Its benefits are not exclusive. What has it left undone,
which any government could do, for the whole country? In what condition
has it placed us? Where do we now stand? Are we elevated, or degraded,
by its operation? What is our condition under its influence, at the very
moment when some talk of arresting its power and breaking its unity? Do
we not feel ourselves on an eminence? Do we not challenge the respect of
the whole world? What has placed us thus high? What has given us this
just pride? What else is it, but the unrestrained and free operation of
that same Federal Constitution, which it has been proposed now to
hamper, and manacle, and nullify? Who is there among us, that, should he
find himself on any spot of the earth where human beings exist, and
where the existence of other nations is known, would not be proud to
say, I am an American? I am a countryman of Washington? I am a citizen
of that republic, which, although it has suddenly sprung up, yet there
are none on the globe who have ears to hear, and have not heard of it;
who have eyes to see, and have not read of it; who know any thing, and
yet do not know of its existence and its glory? And, Gentlemen, let me
now reverse the picture. Let me ask, who there is among us, if he were
to be found to-morrow in one of the civilized countries of Europe, and
were there to learn that this goodly form of government had been
overthrown, that the United States were no longer united, that a
death-blow had been struck upon their bond of union, that they
themselves had destroyed their chief good and their chief honor,--who is
there whose heart would not sink within him? Who is there who would not
cover his face for very shame?
At this very moment, Gentlemen, our country is a general refuge for the
distressed and the persecuted of other nations. Whoever is in affliction
from political occurrences in his own country looks here for shelter.
Whether he be republican, flying from the oppression of thrones, or
whether he be monarch or monarchist, flying from thrones that crumble
and fall under or around him, he feels equal assurance, that, if he get
foothold on our soil, his person will be safe, and his rights will be
respected.
And who will venture to say, that, in any government now existing in the
world, there is greater security for persons or property than in that of
the United States? We have tried these popular institutions in times of
great excitement and commotion, and they have stood, substantially, firm
and steady, while the fountains of the great political deep have been
elsewhere broken up; while thrones, resting on ages of prescription,
have tottered and fallen; and while, in other countries, the earthquake
of unrestrained popular commotion has swallowed up all law, and all
liberty, and all right together. Our government has been tried in peace,
and it has been tried in war, and has proved itself fit for both. It has
been assailed from without, and it has successfully resisted the shock;
it has been disturbed within, and it has effectually quieted the
disturbance. It can stand trial, it can stand assault, it can stand
adversity, it can stand every thing, but the marring of its own beauty,
and the weakening of its own strength. It can stand every thing but the
effects of our own rashness and our own folly. It can stand every thing
but disorganization, disunion, and nullification.
It is a striking fact, and as true as it is striking, that at this very
moment, among all the principal civilized states of the world, _that_
government is most secure against the danger of popular commotion which
is itself entirely popular. It seems, indeed, that the submission of
every thing to the public will, under constitutional restraints, imposed
by the people themselves, furnishes itself security that they will
desire nothing wrong.
Certain it is, that popular, constitutional liberty, as we enjoy it,
appears, in the present state of the world, as sure and stable a basis
for government to rest upon, as any government of enlightened states can
find, or does find. Certain it is, that, in these times of so much
popular knowledge, and so much popular activity, those governments which
do not admit the people to partake in their administration, but keep
them under and beneath, sit on materials for an explosion, which may
take place at any moment, and blow them into a thousand atoms.
Gentlemen, let any man who would degrade and enfeeble the national
Constitution, let any man who would nullify its laws, stand forth and
tell us what he would wish. What does he propose? Whatever he may be,
and whatever substitute he may hold forth, I am sure the people of this
country will decline his kind interference, and hold on by the
Constitution which they possess. Any one who would willingly destroy it,
I rejoice to know, would be looked upon with abhorrence. It is deeply
intrenched in the regards of the people. Doubtless it may be undermined
by artful and long-continued hostility; it may be imperceptibly weakened
by secret attack; it may be insidiously shorn of its powers by slow
degrees; the public vigilance may be lulled, and when it awakes, it may
find the Constitution frittered away. In these modes, or some of them,
it is possible that the union of the States may be dissolved.
But if the general attention of the people be kept alive, if they see
the intended mischief before it is effected, they will prevent it by
their own sovereign power. They will interpose themselves between the
meditated blow and the object of their regard and attachment. Next to
the controlling authority of the people themselves, the preservation of
the government is mainly committed to those who administer it. If
conducted in wisdom, it cannot but stand strong. Its genuine, original
spirit is a patriotic, liberal, and generous spirit; a spirit of
conciliation, of moderation, of candor, and charity; a spirit of
friendship, and not a spirit of hostility toward the States; a spirit
careful not to exceed, and equally careful not to relinquish, its just
powers. While no interest can or ought to feel itself shut out from the
benefits of the Constitution, none should consider those benefits as
exclusively its own. The interests of all must be consulted, and
reconciled, and provided for, as far as possible, that all may perceive
the benefits of a united government.
Among other things, we are to remember that new States have arisen,
possessing already an immense population, spreading and thickening over
vast regions which were a wilderness when the Constitution was adopted.
Those States are not, like New York, directly connected with maritime
commerce. They are entirely agricultural, and need markets for
consumption; and they need, too, access to those markets. It is the duty
of the government to bring the interests of these new States into the
Union, and incorporate them closely in the family compact. Gentlemen, it
is not impracticable to reconcile these various interests, and so to
administer the government as to make it useful to all. It was never
easier to administer the government than it is now. We are beset with
none, or with few, of its original difficulties; and it is a time of
great general prosperity and happiness. Shall we admit ourselves
incompetent to carry on the government, so as to be satisfactory to the
whole country? Shall we admit that there has so little descended to us
of the wisdom and prudence of our fathers? If the government could be
administered in Washington's time, when it was yet new, when the country
was heavily in debt, when foreign relations were in a threatening
condition, and when Indian wars pressed on the frontiers, can it not be
administered now? Let us not acknowledge ourselves so unequal to our
duties.
Gentlemen, on the occasion referred to by the chair, it became necessary
to consider the judicial power, and its proper functions under the
Constitution. In every free and balanced government, this is a most
essential and important power. Indeed, I think it is a remark of Mr.
Hume, that the administration of justice seems to be the leading object
of institutions of government; that legislatures assemble, that armies
are embodied, that both war and peace are made, with a sort of ultimate
reference to the proper administration of laws, and the judicial
protection of private rights. The judicial power comes home to every
man. If the legislature passes incorrect or unjust general laws, its
members bear the evil as well as others. But judicature acts on
individuals. It touches every private right, every private interest, and
almost every private feeling. What we possess is hardly fit to be called
our own, unless we feel secure in its possession; and this security,
this feeling of perfect safety, cannot exist under a wicked, or even
under a weak and ignorant, administration of the laws. There is no
happiness, there is no liberty, there is no enjoyment of life, unless a
man can say when he rises in the morning, I shall be subject to the
decision of no unjust judge to-day.
But, Gentlemen, the judicial department, under the Constitution of the
United States, possesses still higher duties. It is true, that it may be
called on, and is occasionally called on, to decide questions which are,
in one sense, of a political nature. The general and State governments,
both established by the people, are established for different purposes,
and with different powers. Between those powers questions may arise; and
who shall decide them? Some provision for this end is absolutely
necessary. What shall it be? This was the question before the
Convention; and various schemes were suggested. It was foreseen that the
States might inadvertently pass laws inconsistent with the Constitution
of the United States, or with acts of Congress. At least, laws might be
passed which would be charged with such inconsistency. How should these
questions be disposed of? Where shall the power of judging, in cases of
alleged interference, be lodged? One suggestion in the Convention was,
to make it an executive power, and to lodge it in the hands of the
President, by requiring all State laws to be submitted to him, that he
might negative such as he thought appeared repugnant to the general
Constitution. This idea, perhaps, may have been borrowed from the power
exercised by the crown over the laws of the Colonies. It would evidently
have been, not only an inconvenient and troublesome proceeding, but
dangerous also to the powers of the States. It was not pressed. It was
thought wiser and safer, on the whole, to require State legislatures and
State judges to take an oath to support the Constitution of the United
States, and then leave the States at liberty to pass whatever laws they
pleased, and if interference, in point of fact, should arise, to refer
the question to judicial decision. To this end, the judicial power,
under the Constitution of the United States, was made coextensive with
the legislative power. It was extended to all cases arising under the
Constitution and the laws of Congress. The judiciary became thus
possessed of the authority of deciding, in the last resort, in all cases
of alleged interference, between State laws and the Constitution and
laws of Congress.
Gentlemen, this is the actual Constitution, this is the law of the land.
There may be those who think it unnecessary, or who would prefer a
different mode of deciding such questions. But this is the established
mode, and, till it be altered, the courts can no more decline their duty
on these occasions than on other occasions. But can any reasonable man
doubt the expediency of this provision, or suggest a better? Is it not
absolutely essential to the peace of the country that this power should
exist somewhere? Where can it exist, better than where it now does
exist? The national judiciary is the common tribunal of the whole
country. It is organized by the common authority, and its places filled
by the common agent. This is a plain and practical provision. It was
framed by no bunglers, nor by any wild theorists. And who can say that
it has failed? Who can find substantial fault with its operation or its
results? The great question is, whether we shall provide for the
peaceable decision of cases of collision. Shall they be decided by law,
or by force? Shall the decisions be decisions of peace, or decisions of
war?
On the occasion which has given rise to this meeting, the proposition
contended for in opposition to the doctrine just stated was, that every
State, under certain supposed exigencies, and in certain supposed cases,
might decide for itself, and act for itself, and oppose its own force to
the execution of the laws. By what argument, do you imagine, Gentlemen,
was such a proposition maintained? I should call it metaphysical and
subtle; but these terms would imply at least ingenuity, and some degree
of plausibility; whereas the argument appears to me plain assumption,
mere perverse construction of plain language in the body of the
Constitution itself. As I understand it, when put forth in its revised
and most authentic shape, it is this: that the Constitution provides
that any amendments may be made to it which shall be agreed to by three
fourths of the States; there is, therefore, to be nothing in the
Constitution to which three fourths of the States have not agreed. All
this is true; but then comes this inference, namely, that, when one
State denies the constitutionality of any law of Congress, she may
arrest its execution as to herself; and keep it arrested, till the
States can all be consulted by their conventions, and three fourths of
them shall have decided that the law is constitutional. Indeed, the
inference is still stranger than this; for State conventions have no
authority to construe the Constitution, though they have authority to
amend it; therefore the argument must prove, if it prove any thing,
that, when any one State denies that any particular power is included in
the Constitution, it is to be considered as not included, and cannot be
found there till three fourths of the States agree to insert it. In
short, the result of the whole is, that, though it requires three
fourths of the States to insert any thing in the Constitution, yet any
one State can strike any thing out of it. For the power to strike out,
and the power of deciding, without appeal, upon the construction of what
is already in, are substantially and practically the same.
And, Gentlemen, what a spectacle should we have exhibited under the
actual operation of notions like these! At the very moment when our
government was quoted, praised, and commended all over the world, when
the friends of republican liberty everywhere were gazing at it with
delight, and were in perfect admiration at the harmony of its movements,
one State steps forth, and, by the power of nullification, breaks up the
whole system, and scatters the bright chain of the Union into as many
sundered links as there are separate States!
Seeing the true grounds of the Constitution thus attacked, I raised my
voice in its favor, I must confess with no preparation or previous
intention. I can hardly say that I embarked in the contest from a sense
of duty. It was an instantaneous impulse of inclination, not acting
against duty, I trust, but hardly waiting for its suggestions. I felt it
to be a contest for the integrity of the Constitution, and I was ready
to enter into it, not thinking, or caring, personally, how I might come
out.
Gentlemen, I have true pleasure in saying that I trust the crisis has in
some measure passed by. The doctrines of nullification have received a
severe and stern rebuke from public opinion. The general reprobation of
the country has been cast upon them. Recent expressions of the most
numerous branch of the national legislature are decisive and imposing.
Everywhere, the general tone of public feeling is for the Constitution.
While much will be yielded--every thing, almost, but the integrity of
the Constitution, and the essential interests of the country--to the
cause of mutual harmony and mutual conciliation, no ground can be
granted, not an inch, to menace and bluster. Indeed, menace and bluster,
and the putting forth of daring, unconstitutional doctrines, are, at
this very moment, the chief obstacles to mutual harmony and satisfactory
accommodation. Men cannot well reason, and confer, and take counsel
together, about the discreet exercise of a power, with those who deny
that any such power rightfully exists, and who threaten to blow up the
whole Constitution if they cannot otherwise get rid of its operation.
It is matter of sincere gratification, Gentlemen, that the voice of this
great State has been so clear and strong, and her vote all but
unanimous, on the most interesting of these occasions, in the House of
Representatives. Certainly, such respect to the Union becomes New York.
It is consistent with her interests and her character. That singularly
prosperous State, which now is, and is likely to continue to be, the
greatest link in the chain of the Union, will ever be, I am sure, the
strongest link also. The great States which lie in her neighborhood
agreed with her fully in this matter. Pennsylvania, I believe, was loyal
to the Union, to a man; and Ohio raises her voice, like that of a lion,
against whatsoever threatens disunion and dismemberment. This harmony of
sentiment is truly gratifying. It is not to be gainsaid, that the union
of opinion in this great central mass of our population, on this
momentous point of the Constitution, augurs well for our future
prosperity and security.
I have said, Gentlemen, what I verily believe to be true, that there is
no danger to the Union from open and avowed attacks on its essential
principles. Nothing is to be feared from those who will march up boldly
to their own propositions, and tell us that they mean to annihilate
powers exercised by Congress. But, certainly, there are dangers to the
Constitution, and we ought not to shut our eyes to them. We know the
importance of a firm and intelligent judiciary; but how shall we secure
the continuance of a firm and intelligent judiciary? Gentlemen, the
judiciary is in the appointment of the executive power. It cannot
continue or renew itself. Its vacancies are to be filled in the ordinary
modes of executive appointment. If the time shall ever come (which
Heaven avert), when men shall be placed in the supreme tribunal of the
country, who entertain opinions hostile to the just powers of the
Constitution, we shall then be visited by an evil defying all remedy.
Our case will be past surgery. From that moment the Constitution is at
an end. If they who are appointed to defend the castle shall betray it,
woe betide those within! If I live to see that day come, I shall despair
of the country. I shall be prepared to give it back to all its former
afflictions, in the days of the Confederation. I know no security
against the possibility of this evil, but an awakened public vigilance.
I know no safety, but in that state of public opinion which shall lead
it to rebuke and put down every attempt, either to gratify party by
judicial appointments, or to dilute the Constitution by creating a court
which shall construe away its provisions. If members of Congress betray
their trust, the people will find it out before they are ruined. If the
President should at any time violate his duty, his term of office is
short, and popular elections may supply a seasonable remedy. But the
judges of the Supreme Court possess, for very good reasons, an
independent tenure of office. No election reaches them. If, with this
tenure, they betray their trusts, Heaven save us! Let us hope for better
results. The past, certainly, may encourage us. Let us hope that we
shall never see the time when there shall exist such an awkward posture
of affairs, as that the government shall be found in opposition to the
Constitution, and when the guardians of the Union shall become its
betrayers.
* * * * *
Gentlemen, our country stands, at the present time, on commanding
ground. Older nations, with different systems of government, may be
somewhat slow to acknowledge all that justly belongs to us. But we may
feel without vanity, that America is doing her part in the great work of
improving human affairs. There are two principles, Gentlemen, strictly
and purely American, which are now likely to prevail throughout the
civilized world. Indeed, they seem the necessary result of the progress
of civilization and knowledge. These are, first, popular governments,
restrained by written constitutions; and, secondly, universal education.
Popular governments and general education, acting and reacting, mutually
producing and reproducing each other, are the mighty agencies which in
our days appear to be exciting, stimulating, and changing civilized
societies. Man, everywhere, is now found demanding a participation in
government,--and he will not be refused; and he demands knowledge as
necessary to self-government. On the basis of these two principles,
liberty and knowledge, our own American systems rest. Thus far we have
not been disappointed in their results. Our existing institutions,
raised on these foundations, have conferred on us almost unmixed
happiness. Do we hope to better our condition by change? When we shall
have nullified the present Constitution, what are we to receive in its
place? As fathers, do we wish for our children better government, or
better laws? As members of society, as lovers of our country, is there
any thing we can desire for it better than that, as ages and centuries
roll over it, it may possess the same invaluable institutions which it
now enjoys? For my part, Gentlemen, I can only say, that I desire to
thank the beneficent Author of all good for being born _where_ I was
born, and _when_ I was born; that the portion of human existence
allotted to me has been meted out to me in this goodly land, and at this
interesting period. I rejoice that I have lived to see so much
development of truth, so much progress of liberty, so much diffusion of
virtue and happiness. And, through good report and evil report, it will
be my consolation to be a citizen of a republic unequalled in the annals
of the world for the freedom of its institutions, its high prosperity,
and the prospects of good which yet lie before it. Our course,
Gentlemen, is onward, straight onward, and forward. Let us not turn to
the right hand, nor to the left. Our path is marked out for us, clear,
plain, bright, distinctly defined, like the milky way across the
heavens. If we are true to our country, in our day and generation, and
those who come after us shall be true to it also, assuredly, assuredly,
we shall elevate her to a pitch of prosperity and happiness, of honor
and power, never yet reached by any nation beneath the sun.
Gentlemen, before I resume my seat, a highly gratifying duty remains
to be performed. In signifying your sentiments of regard, you have
kindly chosen to select as your organ for expressing them the
eminent person[92] near whom I stand. I feel, I cannot well say how
sensibly, the manner in which he has seen fit to speak on this
occasion. Gentlemen, if I may be supposed to have made any attainment
in the knowledge of constitutional law, he is among the masters in
whose schools I have been taught. You see near him a distinguished
magistrate,[93] long associated with him in judicial labors, which
have conferred lasting benefits and lasting character, not only on
the State, but on the whole country. Gentlemen, I acknowledge myself
much their debtor. While yet a youth, unknown, and with little
expectation of becoming known beyond a very limited circle, I have
passed days and nights, not of tedious, but of happy and gratified
labor, in the study of the judicature of the State of New York. I am
most happy to have this public opportunity of acknowledging the
obligation, and of repaying it as far as it can be repaid, by the poor
tribute of my profound regard, and the earnest expression of my
sincere respect.
Gentlemen, I will no longer detain you than to propose a toast:--
The City of New York; herself the noblest eulogy on the Union of the
States.
FOOTNOTES
[90] Address to the People of Great Britain.
[91] The reference is to Mr. Madison's letter on the subject of
_Nullification_, in the North American Review, Vol. XXXI. p.
537.
[92] Chancellor Kent, the presiding officer.
[93] Judge Spencer.
THE CHARACTER OF WASHINGTON.[94]
On the 22d of February, 1832, being the centennial birthday of
GEORGE WASHINGTON, a number of gentlemen, members of Congress and
others, from different parts of the Union, united in commemorating
the occasion by a public dinner in the city of Washington.
At the request of the Committee of Arrangements, Mr. Webster, then a
Senator from Massachusetts, occupied the chair. After the cloth was
removed, he addressed the company in the following manner:
I rise, Gentlemen, to propose to you the name of that great man, in
commemoration of whose birth, and in honor of whose character and
services, we are here assembled.
I am sure that I express a sentiment common to every one present, when I
say that there is something more than ordinarily solemn and affecting in
this occasion.
We are met to testify our regard for him whose name is intimately
blended with whatever belongs most essentially to the prosperity, the
liberty, the free institutions, and the renown of our country. That name
was of power to rally a nation, in the hour of thick-thronging public
disasters and calamities; that name shone, amid the storm of war, a
beacon light, to cheer and guide the country's friends; it flamed, too,
like a meteor, to repel her foes. That name, in the days of peace, was a
load-stone, attracting to itself a whole people's confidence, a whole
people's love, and the whole world's respect. That name, descending with
all time, spreading over the whole earth, and uttered in all the
languages belonging to the tribes and races of men, will for ever be
pronounced with affectionate gratitude by every one in whose breast
there shall arise an aspiration for human rights and human liberty.
We perform this grateful duty, Gentlemen, at the expiration of a hundred
years from his birth, near the place, so cherished and beloved by him,
where his dust now reposes, and in the capital which bears his own
immortal name.
All experience evinces that human sentiments are strongly influenced by
associations. The recurrence of anniversaries, or of longer periods of
time, naturally freshens the recollection, and deepens the impression,
of events with which they are historically connected. Renowned places,
also, have a power to awaken feeling, which all acknowledge. No American
can pass by the fields of Bunker Hill, Monmouth, and Camden, as if they
were ordinary spots on the earth's surface. Whoever visits them feels
the sentiment of love of country kindling anew, as if the spirit that
belonged to the transactions which have rendered these places
distinguished still hovered round, with power to move and excite all who
in future time may approach them.
But neither of these sources of emotion equals the power with which
great moral examples affect the mind. When sublime virtues cease to be
abstractions, when they become embodied in human character, and
exemplified in human conduct, we should be false to our own nature, if
we did not indulge in the spontaneous effusions of our gratitude and our
admiration. A true lover of the virtue of patriotism delights to
contemplate its purest models; and that love of country may be well
suspected which affects to soar so high into the regions of sentiment as
to be lost and absorbed in the abstract feeling, and becomes too
elevated or too refined to glow with fervor in the commendation or the
love of individual benefactors. All this is unnatural. It is as if one
should be so enthusiastic a lover of poetry, as to care nothing for
Homer or Milton; so passionately attached to eloquence as to be
indifferent to Tully and Chatham; or such a devotee to the arts, in such
an ecstasy with the elements of beauty, proportion, and expression, as
to regard the masterpieces of Raphael and Michael Angelo with coldness
or contempt. We may be assured, Gentlemen, that he who really loves the
thing itself, loves its finest exhibitions. A true friend of his country
loves her friends and benefactors, and thinks it no degradation to
commend and commemorate them. The voluntary outpouring of the public
feeling, made to-day, from the North to the South, and from the East to
the West, proves this sentiment to be both just and natural. In the
cities and in the villages, in the public temples and in the family
circles, among all ages and sexes, gladdened voices to-day bespeak
grateful hearts and a freshened recollection of the virtues of the
Father of his Country. And it will be so, in all time to come, so long
as public virtue is itself an object of regard. The ingenuous youth of
America will hold up to themselves the bright model of Washington's
example, and study to be what they behold; they will contemplate his
character till all its virtues spread out and display themselves to
their delighted vision; as the earliest astronomers, the shepherds on
the plains of Babylon, gazed at the stars till they saw them form into
clusters and constellations, overpowering at length the eyes of the
beholders with the united blaze of a thousand lights.
Gentlemen, we are at the point of a century from the birth of
Washington; and what a century it has been! During its course, the human
mind has seemed to proceed with a sort of geometric velocity,
accomplishing, for human intelligence and human freedom, more than had
been done in fives or tens of centuries preceding. Washington stands at
the commencement of a new era, as well as at the head of the New World.
A century from the birth of Washington has changed the world. The
country of Washington has been the theatre on which a great part of that
change has been wrought; and Washington himself a principal agent by
which it has been accomplished. His age and his country are equally full
of wonders; and of both he is the chief.
If the poetical prediction, uttered a few years before his birth, be
true; if indeed it be designed by Providence that the grandest
exhibition of human character and human affairs shall be made on this
theatre of the Western world; if it be true that,
"The four first acts already past,
A fifth shall close the drama of the day;
Time's noblest offspring is the last";
how could this imposing, swelling, final scene be appropriately opened,
how could its intense interest be adequately sustained, but by the
introduction of just such a character as our Washington?
Washington had attained his manhood when that spark of liberty was
struck out in his own country, which has since kindled into a flame, and
shot its beams over the earth. In the flow of a century from his birth,
the world has changed in science, in arts, in the extent of commerce, in
the improvement of navigation, and in all that relates to the
civilization of man. But it is the spirit of human freedom, the new
elevation of individual man, in his moral, social, and political
character, leading the whole long train of other improvements, which has
most remarkably distinguished the era. Society, in this century, has not
made its progress, like Chinese skill, by a greater acuteness of
ingenuity in trifles; it has not merely lashed itself to an increased
speed round the old circles of thought and action; but it has assumed a
new character; it has raised itself from _beneath_ governments to a
participation _in_ governments; it has mixed moral and political objects
with the daily pursuits of individual men; and, with a freedom and
strength before altogether unknown, it has applied to these objects the
whole power of the human understanding. It has been the era, in short,
when the social principle has triumphed over the feudal principle; when
society has maintained its rights against military power, and
established, on foundations never hereafter to be shaken, its competency
to govern itself.
It was the extraordinary fortune of Washington, that, having been
intrusted, in revolutionary times, with the supreme military command,
and having fulfilled that trust with equal renown for wisdom and for
valor, he should be placed at the head of the first government in
which an attempt was to be made on a large scale to rear the fabric of
social order on the basis of a written constitution and of a pure
representative principle. A government was to be established,
without a throne, without an aristocracy, without castes, orders, or
privileges; and this government, instead of being a democracy, existing
and acting within the walls of a single city, was to be extended over
a vast country, of different climates, interests, and habits, and of
various communions of our common Christian faith. The experiment
certainly was entirely new. A popular government of this extent, it
was evident, could be framed only by carrying into full effect the
principle of representation or of delegated power; and the world was to
see whether society could, by the strength of this principle, maintain
its own peace and good government, carry forward its own great
interests, and conduct itself to political renown and glory. By the
benignity of Providence, this experiment, so full of interest to us and
to our posterity for ever, so full of interest, indeed, to the world
in its present generation and in all its generations to come, was
suffered to commence under the guidance of Washington. Destined for this
high career, he was fitted for it by wisdom, by virtue, by patriotism,
by discretion, by whatever can inspire confidence in man toward man.
In entering on the untried scenes, early disappointment and the
premature extinction of all hope of success would have been certain, had
it not been that there did exist throughout the country, in a most
extraordinary degree, an unwavering trust in him who stood at the helm.
I remarked, Gentlemen, that the whole world was and is interested in the
result of this experiment. And is it not so? Do we deceive ourselves, or
is it true that at this moment the career which this government is
running is among the most attractive objects to the civilized world? Do
we deceive ourselves, or is it true that at this moment that love of
liberty and that understanding of its true principles which are flying
over the whole earth, as on the wings of all the winds, are really and
truly of American origin?
At the period of the birth of Washington, there existed in Europe no
political liberty in large communities, except in the provinces of
Holland, and except that England herself had set a great example, so far
as it went, by her glorious Revolution of 1688. Everywhere else,
despotic power was predominant, and the feudal or military principle
held the mass of mankind in hopeless bondage. One half of Europe was
crushed beneath the Bourbon sceptre, and no conception of political
liberty, no hope even of religious toleration, existed among that nation
which was America's first ally. The king was the state, the king was the
country, the king was all. There was one king, with power not derived
from his people, and too high to be questioned; and the rest were all
subjects, with no political right but obedience. All above was
intangible power, all below quiet subjection. A recent occurrence in the
French Chambers shows us how public opinion on these subjects is
changed. A minister had spoken of the "king's subjects." "There are no
subjects," exclaimed hundreds of voices at once, "in a country where the
people make the king!"
Gentlemen, the spirit of human liberty and of free government, nurtured
and grown into strength and beauty in America, has stretched its course
into the midst of the nations. Like an emanation from Heaven, it has
gone forth, and it will not return void. It must change, it is fast
changing, the face of the earth. Our great, our high duty is to show, in
our own example, that this spirit is a spirit of health as well as a
spirit of power; that its benignity is as great as its strength; that
its efficiency to secure individual rights, social relations, and moral
order, is equal to the irresistible force with which it prostrates
principalities and powers. The world, at this moment, is regarding us
with a willing, but something of a fearful admiration. Its deep and
awful anxiety is to learn whether free states may be stable, as well as
free; whether popular power may be trusted, as well as feared; in short,
whether wise, regular, and virtuous self-government is a vision for the
contemplation of theorists, or a truth established, illustrated, and
brought into practice in the country of Washington.
Gentlemen, for the earth which we inhabit, and the whole circle of the
sun, for all the unborn races of mankind, we seem to hold in our hands,
for their weal or woe, the fate of this experiment. If we fail, who
shall venture the repetition? If our example shall prove to be one, not
of encouragement, but of terror, not fit to be imitated, but fit only to
be shunned, where else shall the world look for free models? If this
great _Western Sun_ be struck out of the firmament, at what other
fountain shall the lamp of liberty hereafter be lighted? What other orb
shall emit a ray to glimmer, even, on the darkness of the world?
There is no danger of our overrating or overstating the important part
which we are now acting in human affairs. It should not flatter our
personal self-respect, but it should reanimate our patriotic virtues,
and inspire us with a deeper and more solemn sense, both of our
privileges and of our duties. We cannot wish better for our country, nor
for the world, than that the same spirit which influenced Washington may
influence all who succeed him; and that the same blessing from above,
which attended his efforts, may also attend theirs.
The principles of Washington's administration are not left doubtful.
They are to be found in the Constitution itself, in the great measures
recommended and approved by him, in his speeches to Congress, and in
that most interesting paper, his Farewell Address to the People of the
United States. The success of the government under his administration is
the highest proof of the soundness of these principles. And, after an
experience of thirty-five years, what is there which an enemy could
condemn? What is there which either his friends, or the friends of the
country, could wish to have been otherwise? I speak, of course, of great
measures and leading principles.
In the first place, all his measures were right in their intent. He
stated the whole basis of his own great character, when he told the
country, in the homely phrase of the proverb, that honesty is the best
policy. One of the most striking things ever said of him is, that "_he
changed mankind's ideas of political greatness_."[95] To commanding
talents, and to success, the common elements of such greatness, he added
a disregard of self, a spotlessness of motive, a steady submission to
every public and private duty, which threw far into the shade the whole
crowd of vulgar great. The object of his regard was the whole country.
No part of it was enough to fill his enlarged patriotism. His love of
glory, so far as that may be supposed to have influenced him at all,
spurned every thing short of general approbation. It would have been
nothing to him, that his partisans or his favorites outnumbered, or
outvoted, or outmanaged, or outclamored, those of other leaders. He had
no favorites; he rejected all partisanship; and, acting honestly for the
universal good, he deserved, what he has so richly enjoyed, the
universal love.
His principle it was to act right, and to trust the people for support;
his principle it was not to follow the lead of sinister and selfish
ends, nor to rely on the little arts of party delusion to obtain public
sanction for such a course. Born for his country and for the world, he
did not give up to party what was meant for mankind. The consequence is,
that his fame is as durable as his principles, as lasting as truth and
virtue themselves. While the hundreds whom party excitement, and
temporary circumstances, and casual combinations, have raised into
transient notoriety, sink again, like thin bubbles, bursting and
dissolving into the great ocean, Washington's fame is like the rock
which bounds that ocean, and at whose feet its billows are destined to
break harmlessly for ever.
The maxims upon which Washington conducted our foreign relations
were few and simple. The first was an entire and indisputable
impartiality towards foreign states. He adhered to this rule of
public conduct, against very strong inducements to depart from it, and
when the popularity of the moment seemed to favor such a departure. In
the next place, he maintained true dignity and unsullied honor in all
communications with foreign states. It was among the high duties
devolved upon him, to introduce our new government into the circle of
civilized states and powerful nations. Not arrogant or assuming, with
no unbecoming or supercilious bearing, he yet exacted for it from all
others entire and punctilious respect. He demanded, and he obtained at
once, a standing of perfect equality for his country in the society
of nations; nor was there a prince or potentate of his day, whose
personal character carried with it, into the intercourse of other
states, a greater degree of respect and veneration.
He regarded other nations only as they stood in political relations
to us. With their internal affairs, their political parties and
dissensions, he scrupulously abstained from all interference; and, on
the other hand, he repelled with spirit all such interference by others
with us or our concerns. His sternest rebuke, the most indignant
measure of his whole administration, was aimed against such an
attempted interference. He felt it as an attempt to wound the national
honor, and resented it accordingly.
The reiterated admonitions in his Farewell Address show his deep fears
that foreign influence would insinuate itself into our counsels through
the channels of domestic dissension, and obtain a sympathy with our own
temporary parties. Against all such dangers, he most earnestly entreats
the country to guard itself. He appeals to its patriotism, to its
self-respect, to its own honor, to every consideration connected with
its welfare and happiness, to resist, at the very beginning, all
tendencies towards such connection of foreign interests with our own
affairs. With a tone of earnestness nowhere else found, even in his last
affectionate farewell advice to his countrymen, he says, "Against the
insidious wiles of foreign influence, (I conjure you to believe me,
fellow-citizens,) the jealousy of a free people ought to be _constantly_
awake; since history and experience prove, that foreign influence is one
of the most baneful foes of republican government."
Lastly, on the subject of foreign relations, Washington never forgot
that we had interests peculiar to ourselves. The primary political
concerns of Europe, he saw, did not affect us. We had nothing to do with
her balance of power, her family compacts, or her successions to
thrones. We were placed in a condition favorable to neutrality during
European wars, and to the enjoyment of all the great advantages of that
relation. "Why, then," he asks us, "why forego the advantages of so
peculiar a situation? Why quit our own to stand upon foreign ground?
Why, by interweaving our destiny with that of any part of Europe,
entangle our peace and prosperity in the toils of European ambition,
rivalship, interest, humor, or caprice?"
Indeed, Gentlemen, Washington's Farewell Address is full of truths
important at all times, and particularly deserving consideration at the
present. With a sagacity which brought the future before him, and made
it like the present, he saw and pointed out the dangers that even at
this moment most imminently threaten us. I hardly know how a greater
service of that kind could now be done to the community, than by a
renewed and wide diffusion of that admirable paper, and an earnest
invitation to every man in the country to reperuse and consider it. Its
political maxims are invaluable; its exhortations to love of country and
to brotherly affection among citizens, touching; and the solemnity with
which it urges the observance of moral duties, and impresses the power
of religious obligation, gives to it the highest character of truly
disinterested, sincere, parental advice.
The domestic policy of Washington found its pole-star in the avowed
objects of the Constitution itself. He sought so to administer that
Constitution, as to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure
domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote the
general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty. These were objects
interesting, in the highest degree, to the whole country, and his policy
embraced the whole country.
Among his earliest and most important duties was the organization of the
government itself, the choice of his confidential advisers, and the
various appointments to office. This duty, so important and delicate,
when a whole government was to be organized, and all its offices for the
first time filled, was yet not difficult to him; for he had no sinister
ends to accomplish, no clamorous partisans to gratify, no pledges to
redeem, no object to be regarded but simply the public good. It was a
plain, straightforward matter, a mere honest choice of good men for the
public service.
His own singleness of purpose, his disinterested patriotism, were
evinced by the selection of his first cabinet, and by the manner in
which he filled the seats of justice, and other places of high trust. He
sought for men fit for offices; not for offices which might suit men.
Above personal considerations, above local considerations, above party
considerations, he felt that he could only discharge the sacred trust
which the country had placed in his hands, by a diligent inquiry after
real merit, and a conscientious preference of virtue and talent. The
whole country was the field of his selection. He explored that whole
field, looking only for whatever it contained most worthy and
distinguished. He was, indeed, most successful, and he deserved success
for the purity of his motives, the liberality of his sentiments, and his
enlarged and manly policy.
Washington's administration established the national credit, made
provision for the public debt, and for that patriotic army whose
interests and welfare were always so dear to him; and, by laws wisely
framed, and of admirable effect, raised the commerce and navigation of
the country, almost at once, from depression and ruin to a state of
prosperity. Nor were his eyes open to these interests alone. He viewed
with equal concern its agriculture and manufactures, and, so far as they
came within the regular exercise of the powers of this government, they
experienced regard and favor.
It should not be omitted, even in this slight reference to the general
measures and general principles of the first President, that he saw and
felt the full value and importance of the judicial department of the
government. An upright and able administration of the laws he held to be
alike indispensable to private happiness and public liberty. The temple
of justice, in his opinion, was a sacred place, and he would profane
and pollute it who should call any to minister in it, not spotless in
character, not incorruptible in integrity, not competent by talent and
learning, not a fit object of unhesitating trust.
Among other admonitions, Washington has left us, in his last
communication to his country, an exhortation against the excesses of
party spirit. A fire not to be quenched, he yet conjures us not to fan
and feed the flame. Undoubtedly, Gentlemen, it is the greatest danger of
our system and of our time. Undoubtedly, if that system should be
overthrown, it will be the work of excessive party spirit, acting on the
government, which is dangerous enough, or acting _in_ the government,
which is a thousand times more dangerous; for government then becomes
nothing but organized party, and, in the strange vicissitudes of human
affairs, it may come at last, perhaps, to exhibit the singular paradox
of government itself being in opposition to its own powers, at war with
the very elements of its own existence. Such cases are hopeless. As men
may be protected against murder, but cannot be guarded against suicide,
so government may be shielded from the assaults of external foes, but
nothing can save it when it chooses to lay violent hands on itself.
Finally, Gentlemen, there was in the breast of Washington one sentiment
so deeply felt, so constantly uppermost, that no proper occasion escaped
without its utterance. From the letter which he signed in behalf of the
Convention when the Constitution was sent out to the people, to the
moment when he put his hand to that last paper in which he addressed his
countrymen, the Union,--the Union was the great object of his thoughts.
In that first letter he tells them that, to him and his brethren of the
Convention, union appears to be the greatest interest of every true
American; and in that last paper he conjures them to regard that unity
of government which constitutes them one people as the very palladium of
their prosperity and safety, and the security of liberty itself. He
regarded the union of these States less as one of our blessings, than as
the great treasure-house which contained them all. Here, in his
judgment, was the great magazine of all our means of prosperity; here,
as he thought, and as every true American still thinks, are deposited
all our animating prospects, all our solid hopes for future greatness.
He has taught us to maintain this union, not by seeking to enlarge the
powers of the government, on the one hand, nor by surrendering them, on
the other; but by an administration of them at once firm and moderate,
pursuing objects truly national, and carried on in a spirit of justice
and equity.
The extreme solicitude for the preservation of the Union, at all times
manifested by him, shows not only the opinion he entertained of its
importance, but his clear perception of those causes which were likely
to spring up to endanger it, and which, if once they should overthrow
the present system, would leave little hope of any future beneficial
reunion. Of all the presumptions indulged by presumptuous man, that is
one of the rashest which looks for repeated and favorable opportunities
for the deliberate establishment of a united government over distinct
and widely extended communities. Such a thing has happened once in human
affairs, and but once; the event stands out as a prominent exception to
all ordinary history; and unless we suppose ourselves running into an
age of miracles, we may not expect its repetition.
Washington, therefore, could regard, and did regard, nothing as of
paramount political interest, but the integrity of the Union itself.
With a united government, well administered, he saw that we had nothing
to fear; and without it, nothing to hope. The sentiment is just, and its
momentous truth should solemnly impress the whole country. If we might
regard our country as personated in the spirit of Washington, if we
might consider him as representing her, in her past renown, her present
prosperity, and her future career, and as in that character demanding of
us all to account for our conduct, as political men or as private
citizens, how should he answer him who has ventured to talk of disunion
and dismemberment? Or how should he answer him who dwells perpetually on
local interests, and fans every kindling flame of local prejudice? How
should he answer him who would array State against State, interest
against interest, and party against party, careless of the continuance
of that _unity of government which constitutes us one people_?
The political prosperity which this country has attained, and which it
now enjoys, has been acquired mainly through the instrumentality of the
present government. While this agent continues, the capacity of
attaining to still higher degrees of prosperity exists also. We have,
while this lasts, a political life capable of beneficial exertion, with
power to resist or overcome misfortunes, to sustain us against the
ordinary accidents of human affairs, and to promote, by active efforts,
every public interest. But dismemberment strikes at the very being which
preserves these faculties. It would lay its rude and ruthless hand on
this great agent itself. It would sweep away, not only what we possess,
but all power of regaining lost, or acquiring new possessions. It would
leave the country, not only bereft of its prosperity and happiness, but
without limbs, or organs, or faculties, by which to exert itself
hereafter in the pursuit of that prosperity and happiness.
Other misfortunes may be borne, or their effects overcome. If
disastrous war should sweep our commerce from the ocean, another
generation may renew it; if it exhaust our treasury, future industry
may replenish it; if it desolate and lay waste our fields, still,
under a new cultivation, they will grow green again, and ripen to
future harvests. It were but a trifle even if the walls of yonder
Capitol were to crumble, if its lofty pillars should fall, and its
gorgeous decorations be all covered by the dust of the valley. All
these might be rebuilt. But who shall reconstruct the fabric of
demolished government? Who shall rear again the well-proportioned
columns of constitutional liberty? Who shall frame together the
skilful architecture which unites national sovereignty with State
rights, individual security, and public prosperity? No, if these
columns fall, they will be raised not again. Like the Coliseum and
the Parthenon, they will be destined to a mournful, a melancholy
immortality. Bitterer tears, however, will flow over them, than were
ever shed over the monuments of Roman or Grecian art; for they will be
the remnants of a more glorious edifice than Greece or Rome ever saw,
the edifice of constitutional American liberty.
But let us hope for better things. Let us trust in that gracious Being
who has hitherto held our country as in the hollow of his hand. Let us
trust to the virtue and the intelligence of the people, and to the
efficacy of religious obligation. Let us trust to the influence of
Washington's example. Let us hope that that fear of Heaven which expels
all other fear, and that regard to duty which transcends all other
regard, may influence public men and private citizens, and lead our
country still onward in her happy career. Full of these gratifying
anticipations and hopes, let us look forward to the end of that century
which is now commenced. A hundred years hence, other disciples of
Washington will celebrate his birth, with no less of sincere admiration
than we now commemorate it. When they shall meet, as we now meet, to do
themselves and him that honor, so surely as they shall see the blue
summits of his native mountains rise in the horizon, so surely as they
shall behold the river on whose banks he lived, and on whose banks he
rests, still flowing on toward the sea, so surely may they see, as we
now see, the flag of the Union floating on the top of the Capitol; and
then, as now, may the sun in his course visit no land more free, more
happy, more lovely, than this our own country!
Gentlemen, I propose--"THE MEMORY OF GEORGE WASHINGTON."
* * * * *
From the excellent speeches delivered by gentlemen on this interesting
occasion, we cannot refrain from selecting for this publication, though
a little out of place, the appropriate, just, and classic remarks of Mr.
Robbins.
Mr. Webster having retired, Mr. Chambers, being in the chair, called
upon Mr. Robbins of Rhode Island; when Mr. Senator ROBBINS of that State
addressed the company as follows:--
* * * * *
"GENTLEMEN,--I beg leave to offer a sentiment; but first, with your
indulgence, will offer a few remarks, not inappropriate, I hope, to the
occasion.
"It is the peculiar good fortune of this country to have given birth to
a citizen, whose name everywhere produces a sentiment of regard for his
country itself. In other countries, whenever or wherever this is spoken
of to be praised, and with the highest praise, it is called the country
of Washington. I believe there is no people, civilized or savage, in any
place, however remote, where the name of Washington has not been heard,
and where it is not repeated with the fondest admiration. We are told,
that the Arab of the desert talks of Washington in his tent, and that
his name is familiar to the wandering Scythian. He seems, indeed, to be
the delight of human kind, as their beau ideal of human nature. 'Nil
oriturum alias, nil ortum tale fatentes.'
"No American, in any part of the world, but has found the regard
for himself increased by his connection with Washington, as his
fellow-countryman; and who has not felt a pride, and had occasion to
exult, in the fortunate connection?
"Half a century and more has now passed away since he came upon the
stage, and his fame first broke upon the world; for it broke like the
blaze of day from the rising sun,--almost as sudden, and seemingly as
universal. The eventful period since that era has teemed with great men,
who have crossed the scene and passed off. Some of them have arrested
great attention, very great; still Washington retains his preëminent
place in the minds of men, still his peerless name is cherished by them
in the same freshness of delight as in the morn of its glory.
"History will keep her record of his fame; but history is not necessary
to perpetuate it. In regions where history is not read, where letters
are unknown, it lives, and will go down from age to age, in all future
time, in their traditionary lore.
"Who would exchange this fame, the common inheritance of our country,
for the fame of any individual which any country of any time can boast?
I would not; with my sentiments, I could not.
"I recollect the first time I ever saw Washington: indeed, it is
impossible I should forget it, or recollect it without the liveliest
emotion. I was then a child at school. The school was dismissed, and we
were told, that General Washington was expected in town that day, on his
way to Cambridge, to take command of the American army. We, the
children, were permitted to mingle with the people, who had assembled in
mass to see him. I did see him; I riveted my eyes upon him; I could now,
were I master of the pencil, delineate with exact truth his form and
features, and every particular of his costume: so vivid are my
recollections. I can never forget the feelings his sublime presence
inspired. How often, afterwards, when I came, in my studies, to learn
them, have I repeated and applied, as expressive of that feeling, these
lines,--
"Quem sese ore ferens! quam forti pectore et armis!
Credo equidem, nec vana fides, genus esse Deorum."
He did seem to me more than mortal. It is true this was young and
ignorant enthusiasm; but, though young and ignorant, it was not false;
it was enthusiasm, which my riper judgment has always recognized as
just; it was but the anticipated sentiment of the whole human kind.
"I now beg leave to offer this sentiment:--
"The written legacy of Washington to his countrymen,--a code of politics
by which, and by which alone, as he believed, their union and their
liberties can be made immortal."
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES
[94] A Speech delivered at a Public Dinner in Honor of the Centennial
Birthday of Washington, on the 22d of February, 1832.
[95] See Works of Fisher Ames, pp. 122, 123.
NATIONAL REPUBLICAN CONVENTION AT WORCESTER.[96]
Mr. President,--I offer no apology for addressing the meeting. Holding,
by the favor of the people of this Commonwealth, an important public
situation, I deem it no less than a part of my duty, at this interesting
moment, to make known my opinions on the state of public affairs, and,
however I may have performed other duties, this, at least, it is my
purpose, on the present occasion, fully to discharge. Not intending to
comment at length on all the subjects which now attract public
attention, nor to discuss any thing in detail, I wish, nevertheless,
before an assembly so large and respectable as the present, and through
them before the whole people of the State, to lay open, without reserve,
my own sentiments, hopes, and fears respecting the state and the
prospects of our common country.
The resolutions which have been read from the chair express the opinion,
that the public good requires an effectual change, in the administration
of the general government, both of measures and of men. In this opinion
I heartily concur.
Mr. President, there is no citizen of the State, who, in principle and
by habitual sentiment, is less disposed than myself to general
opposition to government, or less desirous of frequent changes in its
administration. I entertain this feeling strongly, and at all times,
towards the government of the United States; because I have ever
regarded the Federal Constitution as a frame of government so peculiar,
and so delicate in its relations to the State governments, that it might
be in danger of overthrow, as well from an indiscriminate and wanton
opposition, as from a weak or a wicked administration. But a case may
arise in which the government is no longer safe in the hands to which it
has been intrusted. It may come to be a question, not so much in what
particular manner, or according to what particular political opinions,
the government shall be administered, as whether the Constitution itself
shall be preserved and maintained. Now, Sir, in my judgment, just such a
case and just such a question are at this moment before the American
people. Entertaining this sentiment, and thoroughly and entirely
convinced of its truth, I wish, as far as my humble power extends, to
produce in the people a more earnest attention to their public concerns.
With the people, and the people alone, lies any remedy for the past or
any security for the future. No delegated power is equal to the exigency
of the present crisis. No public servants, however able or faithful,
have ability to check or to stop the fearful tendency of things. It is a
case for sovereign interposition. The rescue, if it come at all, must
come from that power which no other on earth can resist. I earnestly
wish, therefore, unimportant as my own opinions may be, and entitled, as
I know they are, to no considerable regard, yet, since they are honest
and sincere, and since they respect nothing less than dangers which
appear to me to threaten the government and Constitution of the country,
I fervently wish that I could now make them known, not only to this
meeting and to this State, but to every man in the Union. I take the
hazard of the reputation of an alarmist; I cheerfully submit to the
imputation of over-excited apprehension; I discard all fear of the cry
of false prophecy, and I declare, that, in my judgment, not only the
great interests of the country, but the Constitution itself, are in
imminent peril, and that nothing can save either the one or the other
but that voice which has authority to say to the evils of misrule and
misgovernment, "Hitherto shall ye come, but no further."
It is true, Sir, that it is the natural effect of a good constitution to
protect the people. But who shall protect the constitution? Who shall
guard the guardian? What arm but the mighty arm of the people itself is
able, in a popular government, to uphold public institutions? The
constitution itself is but the creature of the public will; and in every
crisis which threatens it, it must owe its security to the same power to
which it owes its origin.
The appeal, therefore, is to the people; not to party nor to partisans,
not to professed politicians, not to those who have an interest in
office and place greater than their stake in the country, but to the
people, and the whole people; to those who, in regard to political
affairs, have no wish but for a good government, and who have power to
accomplish their own wishes.
* * * * *
Mr. President, are the principles and leading measures of the
administration hostile to the great interests of the country?
Are they dangerous to the Constitution, and to the union of the States?
Is there any prospect of a beneficial change of principles and measures,
without a change of men?
Is there reasonable ground to hope for such a change of men?
On these several questions, I desire to state my own convictions fully,
though as briefly as possible.
* * * * *
As government is intended to be a practical institution, if it be wisely
formed, the first and most natural test of its administration is the
effect produced by it. Let us look, then, to the actual state of our
affairs. Is it such as should follow a good administration of a good
constitution?
Sir, we see one State openly threatening to arrest the execution of the
revenue laws of the Union, by acts of her own. This proceeding is
threatened, not by irresponsible persons, but by those who fill her
chief places of power and trust.
In another State, free citizens of the country are imprisoned, and held
in prison, in defiance of a judgment of the Supreme Court, pronounced
for their deliverance. Immured in a dungeon, marked and patched as
subjects of penitentiary punishment, these free citizens pass their days
in counting the slow-revolving hours of their miserable, captivity, and
their nights in feverish and delusive dreams of their own homes and
their own families; while the Constitution stands adjudged to be
violated, a law of Congress is effectually repealed by the act of a
State, and a judgment of deliverance by the Supreme Court is set a
naught and contemned.[97]
Treaties, importing the most solemn and sacred obligations, are denied
to have binding force.
A feeling that there is great insecurity for property, and the stability
of the means of living, extensively prevails.
The whole subject of the tariff, acted on for the moment, is at the same
moment declared not to be at rest, but liable to be again moved, and
with greater effect, just so soon as power for that purpose shall be
obtained.
The currency of the country, hitherto safe, sound, and universally
satisfactory, is threatened with a violent change; and an embarrassment
in pecuniary affairs, equally distressing and unnecessary, hangs over
all the trading and active classes of society.
A long-used and long-approved legislative instrument for the collection
of revenue, well secured against abuse, and always responsible to
Congress and to the laws, is denied further existence; and its place is
proposed to be supplied by a new branch of the executive department,
with a money power controlled and conducted solely by executive agency.
The power of the VETO is exercised, not as an extraordinary, but as an
ordinary power; as a common mode of defeating acts of Congress not
acceptable to the executive. We hear, one day, that the President needs
the advice of no cabinet; that a few secretaries, or clerks, are enough
for him. The next, we are informed that the Supreme Court is but an
obstacle to the popular will, and the whole judicial department but an
encumbrance to government. And while, on one side, the judicial power is
thus derided and denounced, on the other arises the cry, "Cut down the
Senate!" and over the whole, at the same time, prevails the loud avowal,
shouted with all the lungs of conscious party strength and party
triumph, that the spoils of the enemy belong to the victors. This
condition of things, Sir, this general and obvious aspect of affairs, is
the result of three years' administration, such as the country has
experienced.
But, not resting on this general view of results, let me inquire what
the principles and policy of the administration are, on the leading
interests of the country, subordinate to the Constitution itself. And
first, what are its principles, and what its policy, respecting the
tariff? Is this great question settled, or unsettled? And is the present
administration for, or against, the tariff?
Sir, the question is wholly unsettled, and the principles of the
administration, according to its most recent avowal of those
principles, are adverse to the protective policy, decidedly hostile to
the whole system, root and branch; and this on permanent and alleged
constitutional grounds.
In the first place, nothing has been done to settle the tariff question.
The anti-tariff members of Congress who voted for the late law have,
none of them, said they would adhere to it. On the contrary, they
supported it, because, as far as it went, it was reduction, and that was
what they wished; and if they obtained this degree of reduction now, it
would be easier to obtain a greater degree hereafter; and they frankly
declared, that their intent and purpose was to insist on reduction, and
to pursue reduction, unremittingly, till all duties on imports should be
brought down to one general and equal percentage, and that regulated by
the mere wants of the revenue; or, if different rates of duty should
remain on different articles, still, that the whole should be laid for
revenue, and revenue only; and that they would, to the utmost of their
power, push this course, till protection by duties, as a special object
of national policy, should be abandoned altogether in the national
councils. It is a delusion, therefore, Sir, to imagine that the present
tariff stands, safely, on conceded ground. It covers not an inch that
has not been fought for, and must not be again fought for. It stands
while its friends can protect it, and not an hour longer.
In the next place, in that compend of executive opinion contained in the
veto message, the whole principle of the protective policy is plainly
and pointedly denounced.
Having gone through its argument against the bank charter, as it now
exists, and as it has existed, either under the present or a former law,
for near forty years, and having added to the well-doubted logic of that
argument the still more doubtful aid of a large array of opprobrious
epithets, the message, in unveiled allusion to the protective policy of
the country, holds this language:--
"Most of the difficulties our government now encounters, and most of
the dangers which impend over our Union, have sprung from an
abandonment of the legitimate objects of government by our national
legislation, and the adoption of such principles as are embodied in
this act. Many of our rich men have not been content with equal
protection and equal benefits, but have besought us to make them
richer by act of Congress. By attempting to gratify their desires,
we have, in the results of our legislation, arrayed section against
section, interest against interest, and man against man, in a
fearful commotion which threatens to shake the foundations of our
Union. It is time to pause in our career, to review our principles,
and, if possible, revive that devoted patriotism and spirit of
compromise which distinguished the sages of the Revolution and the
fathers of our Union. If we cannot at once, in justice to interests
vested under improvident legislation, make our government what it
ought to be, we can at least take a stand against all new grants of
monopolies and exclusive privileges, against any prostitution of our
government to the advancement of the few at the expense of the many,
and in favor of compromise and gradual reform in our code of laws
and system of political economy."
Here, then, we have the whole creed. Our national legislature has
abandoned the legitimate objects of government. It has adopted such
principles as are embodied in the bank charter; and these principles are
elsewhere called objectionable, odious, and unconstitutional. All this
has been done, because rich men have besought the government to render
them richer by acts of Congress. It is time to pause in our career. It
is time _to review these principles_. And if we cannot at once MAKE OUR
GOVERNMENT WHAT IT OUGHT TO BE, we can, at least, take a stand against
new grants of power and privilege.
The plain meaning of all this is, that our protecting laws are founded
in an abandonment of the legitimate objects of government; that this is
the great source of our difficulties; that it is time to stop in our
career, to review the principles of these laws, and, as soon as we can,
MAKE OUR GOVERNMENT WHAT IT OUGHT TO BE.
No one can question, Mr. President, that these paragraphs, from the last
official publication of the President, show that, _in his opinion, the
tariff, as a system designed for protection, is not only impolitic, but
unconstitutional also_. They are quite incapable of any other version or
interpretation. They defy all explanation, and all glosses.
Sir, however we may differ from the principles or the policy of the
administration, it would, nevertheless, somewhat satisfy our pride of
country, if we could ascribe to it the character of consistency. It
would be grateful if we could contemplate the President of the United
States as an identical idea. But even this secondary pleasure is denied
to us. In looking to the published records of executive opinions,
sentiments favorable to protection and sentiments against protection
either come confusedly before us, at the same moment, or else follow
each other in rapid succession, like the shadows of a phantasmagoria.
Having read an extract from the veto message, containing the statement
of _present opinions_, allow me to read another extract from the annual
message of 1830. It will be perceived, that in that message both the
clear constitutionality of the tariff laws, and their indispensable
policy, are maintained in the fullest and strongest manner. The argument
on the constitutional point is stated with more than common ability; and
the policy of the laws is affirmed in terms importing the deepest and
most settled conviction. We hear in this message nothing of improvident
legislation; nothing of the abandonment of the legitimate objects of
government; nothing of the necessity of pausing in our career and
reviewing our principles; nothing of the necessity of changing our
government, _till it shall be made what it ought to be_. But let the
message speak for itself.
"The power to impose duties on imports originally belonged to the
several States. The right to adjust those duties with a view to the
encouragement of domestic branches of industry is so completely
incidental to that power, that it is difficult to suppose the
existence of the one without the other. The States have delegated
their whole authority over imports to the general government,
without limitation or restriction, saving the very inconsiderable
reservation relating to their inspection laws. This authority having
thus entirely passed from the States, the right to exercise it for
the purpose of protection does not exist in them; and consequently,
if it be not possessed by the general government, it must be
extinct. Our political system would thus present the anomaly of a
people stripped of the right to foster their own industry, and to
counteract the most selfish and destructive policy which might be
adopted by foreign nations. This surely cannot be the case; this
indispensable power, thus surrendered by the States, must be within
the scope of the authority on the subject expressly delegated to
Congress.
"In this conclusion I am confirmed, as well by the opinions of
Presidents Washington, Jefferson, Madison, and Monroe, who have each
repeatedly recommended the exercise of this right under the
Constitution, as by the uniform practice of Congress, the continued
acquiescence of the States, and the general understanding of the
people.
"I am well aware that this is a subject of so much delicacy, on
account of the extended interests it involves, as to require that it
should be touched with the utmost caution; and that, while an
abandonment of the policy in which it originated, a policy coeval
with our government, pursued through successive administrations, is
neither to be expected nor desired, the people have a right to
demand, and have demanded, that it be so modified as to correct
abuses and obviate injustice."
Mr. President, no one needs to point out inconsistencies plain and
striking as these. The message of 1830 is a well-written paper; it
proceeded, probably, from the cabinet proper. Whence the veto message of
1832 proceeded, I know not; perhaps from the cabinet improper.
But, Sir, there is an important record of an earlier date than 1830. If,
as the President avers, we have been guilty of improvident legislation,
what act of Congress is the most striking instance of that improvidence?
Certainly it is the act of 1824. The principle of protection, repeatedly
recognized before that time, was, by that act, carried to a new and
great extent; so new and so great, that the act was considered as the
foundation of the system. That law it was which conferred on the
distinguished citizen, whose nomination for President this meeting has
received with so much enthusiasm, (Mr. Clay,) the appellation of the
"Author of the American System." Accordingly, the act of 1824 has been
the particular object of attack, in all the warfare waged against the
protective policy. If Congress ever abandoned legitimate objects of
legislation in favor of protection, it did so by that law. If any laws
now on the statute-book, or which ever were there, show, by their
character as laws of protection, that our government is not what it
ought to be, and that it ought to be altered, and, in the language of
the veto message, _made_ what it ought to be, the law of 1824 is the
very law which, more than any and more than all others, makes good that
assertion. And yet, Sir, the President of the United States, then a
Senator in Congress, voted for that law! And, though I have not recurred
to the journal, my recollection is, that, as to some of its provisions,
his support was essential to their success. It will be found, I think,
that some of its enactments, and those now most loudly complained of,
would have failed, but for his own personal support of them by his own
vote.
After all this, it might have been hoped that there would be, in 1832,
some tolerance of opinion toward those who cannot think that
improvidence, abandonment of all the legitimate objects of legislation,
a desire to gratify the rich, who have besought Congress to make them
still richer, and the adoption of principles unequal, oppressive, and
odious, are the true characteristics to be ascribed to the system of
protection.
But, Sir, it is but a small part of my object to show inconsistencies
in executive opinions. My main purpose is different, and tends to
more practical ends. It is, to call the attention of the meeting, and
of the people, to the principles avowed in the late message as being
the President's _present opinions_, and proofs of _his present
purposes_, and to the consequences, if they shall be maintained by
the country. These principles are there expressed in language which
needs no commentary. They go, with a point-blank aim, against the
fundamental stone of the protective system; that is to say, against
the constitutional power of Congress to establish and maintain that
system, in whole or in part. The question, therefore, of the tariff,
the question of every tariff, the question between maintaining our
agricultural and manufacturing interests where they now are, and
breaking up the entire system, and erasing every vestige of it from
the statute book, is a question materially to be affected by the pending
election.
* * * * *
The President has exercised his NEGATIVE power on the law for continuing
the bank charter. Here, too, he denies both the constitutionality and
the policy of an existing law of the land. It is true that the law, or a
similar one, has been in operation nearly forty years. Previous
Presidents and previous Congresses have, all along, sanctioned and
upheld it. The highest courts, and indeed all the courts, have
pronounced it constitutional. A majority of the people, greater than
exists on almost any other question, agrees with all the Presidents, all
the Congresses, and all the courts of law. Yet, against all this weight
of authority, the President puts forth his own individual opinion, and
has negatived the bill for continuing the law. Which of the members of
his administration, or whether any one of them, concur in his
sentiments, we know not. Some of them, we know, have recently advanced
precisely the opposite opinions, and in the strongest manner recommended
to Congress the continuation of the bank charter. Having himself
urgently and repeatedly called the attention of Congress to the
subject, and his Secretary of the Treasury--who, and all the other
secretaries, as the President's friends say, are but so many pens in his
hand--having, in his communication to Congress, at this very session,
insisted both on the constitutionality and necessity of the bank, the
President nevertheless saw fit to negative the bill, passed, as it had
been, by strong majorities in both Houses, and passed, without doubt or
question, in compliance with the wishes of a vast majority of the
American people.
The question respecting the constitutional power of Congress to
establish a bank, I shall not here discuss. On that, as well as on the
general expediency of renewing the charter, my opinions have been
elsewhere expressed. They are before the public, and the experience of
every day confirms me in their truth. All that has been said of the
embarrassment and distress which will be felt from discontinuing the
bank falls far short of an adequate representation. What was prophecy
only two months ago is already history.
In this part of the country, indeed, we experience this distress and
embarrassment in a mitigated degree. The loans of the bank are not so
highly important, or at least not so absolutely necessary, to the
present operations of our commerce; yet we ourselves have a deep
interest in the subject, as it is connected with the general currency of
the country, and with the cheapness and facility of exchange.
The country, generally speaking, was well satisfied with the bank. Why
not let it alone? No evil had been felt from it in thirty-six years. Why
conjure up a troop of fancied mischiefs, as a pretence to put it down?
The message struggles to excite prejudices, from the circumstance that
foreigners are stockholders; and on this ground it raises a loud cry
against a moneyed aristocracy. Can any thing, Sir, be conceived more
inconsistent than this? any thing more remote from sound policy and good
statesmanship? In the United States the rate of interest is high,
compared with the rates abroad. In Holland and England, the actual value
of money is no more than three, or perhaps three and a half, per cent.
In our Atlantic States, it is as high as five or six, taking the whole
length of the seaboard; in the Northwestern States, it is eight or ten,
and in the Southwestern ten or twelve. If the introduction, then, of
foreign capital be discountenanced and discouraged, the American
moneylender may fix his own rate anywhere from five to twelve per cent.
per annum. On the other hand, if the introduction of foreign capital be
countenanced and encouraged, its effects to keep down the rate of
interest, and to bring the value of money in the United States so much
the nearer to its value in older and richer countries. Every dollar
brought from abroad, and put into the mass of active capital at home, by
so much diminishes the rate of interest; and by so much, therefore,
benefits all the active and trading classes of society, at the expense
of the American capitalist. Yet the President's invention, for such it
deserves to be called, that which is to secure us against the
possibility of being oppressed by a moneyed aristocracy, is to shut the
door and bar it safely against all introduction of foreign capital!
Mr. President, what is it that has made England a sort of general banker
for the civilized world? Why is it that capital from all quarters of the
globe accumulates at the centre of her empire, and is thence again
distributed? Doubtless, Sir, it is because she invites it, and solicits
it. She sees the advantage of this; and no British minister ever yet did
a thing so rash, so inconsiderate, so startling, as to exhibit a
groundless feeling of dissatisfaction at the introduction or employment
of foreign capital.
Sir, of all the classes of society, the larger stockholders of the bank
are among those least likely to suffer from its discontinuance. There
are, indeed, on the list of stockholders many charitable institutions,
many widows and orphans, holding small amounts. To these, and other
proprietors of a like character, the breaking up of the bank will, no
doubt, be seriously inconvenient. But the capitalist, he who has
invested money in the bank merely for the sake of the security and the
interest, has nothing to fear. The refusal to renew the charter will, it
is true, diminish the value of the stock; but, then, the same refusal
will create a scarcity of money; and this will reduce the price of all
other stocks; so that the stockholders in the bank, receiving, on its
dissolution, their portion respectively of its capital, will have
opportunities of new and advantageous investment.
The truth is, Sir, the great loss, the sore embarrassment, the severe
distress, arising from this VETO, will fall on the public, and
especially on the more active and industrious portion of the public. It
will inevitably create a scarcity of money; in the Western States, it
will most materially depress the value of property; it will greatly
enhance, everywhere, the price of domestic exchange; it threatens,
everywhere, fluctuations of the currency; and it drives all our
well-settled and safe operations of revenue and finance out of their
accustomed channels. All this is to be suffered on the pretended ground
of a constitutional scruple, which no respect for the opinion of others,
no deference to legislative precedent, no decent regard to judicial
decision, no homage to public opinion, expressed and maintained for
forty years, have power to overcome. An idle apprehension of danger is
set up against the experience of almost half a century; loose and flimsy
theories are asserted against facts of general notoriety; and arguments
are urged against continuing the charter, so superficial and frivolous,
and yet so evidently addressed to those of the community who have never
had occasion to be conversant with subjects of this sort, that an
intelligent reader, who wishes to avoid imputing obliquity of motive, is
obliged to content himself with ascribing to the source of the message,
whatever and wherever that source may have been, no very distinguished
share of the endowments of intellect.
Mr. President, as early as December, 1829, the President called the
attention of Congress to the subject of the bank, in the most earnest
manner. Look to his annual message of that date. You will find that he
then felt constrained, by an irresistible sense of duty to the various
interests concerned, not to delay beyond that moment his urgent
invitation to Congress to take up the subject. He brought forward the
same topic again, in all his subsequent annual messages; yet when
Congress _did_ act upon it, and, on the fourth of July, EIGHTEEN HUNDRED
AND THIRTY-TWO, _did_ send him a bill, he returned it with his
objections; and among these objections, he not only complained _that the
executive was not consulted on the propriety of present action_, but
affirmed also, in so many words, _that present action was deemed
premature by the executive department_.
Let me ask, Mr. President, if it be possible that the same President,
the same chief magistrate, the same mind, could have composed these two
messages? Certainly they much more resemble the production of _two_
minds, holding, on this point, precisely opposite opinions. The message
of December, 1829, asserts that the time had _then_ come for Congress to
consider the bank subject; the message of 1832 declares, that, even
then, the action of Congress on the same subject was _premature_; and
both these messages were sent to Congress by the President of the United
States. Sir, I leave these two messages to be compared and considered by
the people.
Mr. President, I will here take notice of but one other suggestion of
the President, relative to the time and manner of passing the late bill.
A decent respect for the legislature of the country has hitherto been
observed by all who have had occasion to hold official intercourse with
it, and especially by all other branches of the government. The purity
of the motives of Congress, in regard to any measure, has never been
assailed from any respectable quarter. But in the veto message there is
one expression, which, as it seems to me, no American can read without
some feeling. There is an expression, evidently not casual or
accidental, but inserted with design and composed with care, which does
carry a direct imputation of the possibility of the effect of _private
interest_ and _private influence_ on the deliberations of the two Houses
of Congress. I quote the passage, and shall leave it without a single
remark:--"Whatever interest or influence, whether public or private, has
given birth to this act, it cannot be found either in the wishes or
necessities of the executive department, by which present action is
deemed premature."
* * * * *
Among the great interests of the country, Mr. President, there is one
which appears to me not to have attracted from the people of this
Commonwealth a degree of attention altogether equal to its magnitude. I
mean the public lands.
If we run our eye over the map of the country, and view the regions,
almost boundless, which now constitute the public domain, and over which
an active population is rapidly spreading itself, and if we recollect
the amount of annual revenue derived from this source, we shall hardly
fail to be convinced that few branches of national interest are of more
extensive and lasting importance. So large a territory, belonging to the
public, forms a subject of national concern of a very delicate nature,
especially in popular governments. We know, in the history of other
countries, with what views and designs the public lands have been
granted. Either in the form of gifts and largesses, or in that of
reduction of prices to amounts merely nominal, or as compensation for
services, real or imagined, the public domain, in other countries and
other times, has not only been diverted from its just use and
destination, but has been the occasion, also, of introducing into the
state and into the public counsels no small portion both of distraction
and corruption.
Happily, our own system of administering this great interest has
hitherto been both safe and successful. Nothing under the government has
been better devised than our land system; and nothing, thus far, more
beneficially conducted. But the time seems to have arrived, in the
progress of our growth and prosperity, when it has become necessary to
reflect, not on any new mode of sale, for that can hardly be improved,
but on some disposition of the proceeds such as shall be just and equal
to the whole country, and shall insure also a constant and vigilant
attention to this important subject from the people of all the States.
It is not to be denied or disguised, that sentiments have recently
sprung up, in some places, of a very extraordinary character, respecting
the ownership, the just proprietary interest, in these lands. The lands
are well known to have been obtained by the United States, either by
grants from individual States, or by treaties with foreign powers. In
both cases, and in all cases, the grants and cessions were to the United
States, for the interest of the whole Union; and the grants from
individual States contain express limitations and conditions, binding up
the whole property to the common use of all the States for ever. Yet, of
late years, an idea has been suggested, indeed seriously advanced, _that
these lands, of right, belong to the States respectively in which they
happen to lie_. This doctrine, Sir, which, I perceive, strikes this
assembly as being somewhat extravagant, is founded on an argument
derived, as is supposed, from the nature of State sovereignty. It has
been openly espoused, by candidates for office, in some of the new
States, and, indeed, has been announced in the Senate of the United
States.
To the credit of the country, it should be stated, that, up to the
present moment, these notions have not spread widely; and they will be
repudiated, undoubtedly, by the power of general opinion, so soon as
that opinion shall be awakened and expressed. But there is another
tendency more likely, perhaps, to run to injurious excess; and that is,
a constant effort to reduce the price of land to sums almost nominal, on
the ground of facilitating settlement. The sound policy of the
government has been, uniformly, to keep the prices of the public lands
low; so low that every actual settler might easily obtain a farm; but
yet not so low as to tempt individual capitalists to buy up large
quantities to hold for speculation. The object has been to meet, at all
times, the whole actual demand, at a cheap rate; and this object has
been attained. It is obviously of the greatest importance to keep the
prices of the public lands from all influences, except the single one of
the desire of supplying the whole actual demand at a cheap rate. The
present minimum price is one dollar and a quarter per acre; and millions
of acres of land, much of it of an excellent quality, are now in the
market at this rate. Yet every year there are propositions to reduce the
price, and propositions to graduate the price; that is to say, to
provide that all lands having been offered for sale for a certain length
of time at the established rate, if not then sold, shall be offered at a
less rate; and again reduced, if not sold, to one still less. I have
myself thought, that, in some of the oldest districts, some mode might
usefully be adopted of disposing of the remainder of the unsold lands,
and closing the offices; but a universal system of graduation, lowering
prices at short intervals, and by large degrees, could have no other
effect than a general depression of price in regard to the whole mass,
and would evidently be great mismanagement of the public property. This
convention, Sir, will think it singular enough, that a reduction of
prices of the public lands should have been demanded on the ground _that
other impositions for revenue, such as the duty on tea and coffee, have
been removed_; thus considering and treating the sums received for lands
sold as a _tax_, a _burden_, an _imposition_, and a great _drain_ on the
means and the industry of the new States. A man goes from New England to
one of the Western States, buys a hundred acres of the best land in the
world for one hundred and twenty-five dollars, pays his money, and
receives an indisputable title; and immediately some one stands up in
Congress to call this operation the laying of a _tax_, the imposition of
a _burden_; and the whole of these purchases and payments, taken
together, are represented as an intolerable _drain_ on the money and the
industry of the new States. I know not, Sir, which deserves to pass for
the original, and which for the copy; but this reasoning is not unlike
that which maintains that the trading community of the West will be
exhausted and ruined by the privilege of borrowing money of the Bank of
the United States at six per cent interest; this interest being, as is
said in the veto message, a burden upon their industry, and a drain of
their currency, which no country can bear without inconvenience and
distress!
It was in a forced connection with the reduction of duties of impost,
that the subject of the public lands was referred to the Committee of
Manufactures in the Senate, at the late session of Congress. This was a
legislative movement, calculated to throw on Mr. Clay, who was acting a
leading part on the subject of the tariff and the reduction of duties, a
new and delicate responsibility. From this responsibility, however, Mr.
Clay did not shrink. He took up the subject, and his report upon it, and
his speech delivered afterwards in defence of the report, are, in my
opinion, among the very ablest of the efforts which have distinguished
his long public life. I desire to commend their perusal to every citizen
of Massachusetts. They will show him the deep interest of all the
States, his own among the rest, in the security, and proper management,
and disposal, of the public domain. Founded on the report of the
committee, Mr. Clay introduced a bill, providing for the distribution
among all the States, according to population, of the proceeds of the
sales of the public lands for five years, first making a deduction of a
considerable percentage in favor of the new States; the sums thus
received by the States to be disposed of by them in favor of education,
internal improvement, or colonization, as each State might choose for
itself. This bill passed the Senate. It was vigorously opposed in the
House of Representatives by the main body of the friends of the
administration, and finally lost by a small majority. By the provisions
of the bill, Massachusetts would have received, as her dividend, at the
present average rate of sales, one hundred and thirty-seven thousand
dollars a year.
I am free to confess, Sir, that I had hoped to see some unobjectionable
way of disposing of this subject, with the observance of justice towards
all the States, by the government of the United States itself, without a
distribution through the intervention of the State governments. Such a
way, however, I have not discovered. I therefore voted for the bill of
the last session.
Mr. President, let me remind the meeting of the great extent of this
public property.
Only twenty millions of acres have been as yet sold, from the
commencement of the government. One hundred and twenty millions, or
about that quantity, are now cleared from the Indian title, surveyed
into townships, ranges, and sections, and ready in the market for sale.
I think, Sir, the whole surface of Massachusetts embraces about six
millions of acres; so that the United States have a body of land, now
surveyed and in market, equal to twenty States, each of the size of
Massachusetts. But this is but a very small portion of the whole domain,
much the greater part being yet unsurveyed, and much, too, subject to
the original Indian title. The present income to the treasury from the
sales of land is estimated at three millions of dollars a year. The
meeting will thus see, Sir, how important a subject this is, and how
highly it becomes the country to guard this vast property against
perversion and bad management.
* * * * *
Mr. President, among the bills which failed, at the last session, for
want of the President's approval, was one in which this State had a
great pecuniary interest. It was the bill for the payment of interest
to the States on the funds advanced by them during the war, the
principal of which had been paid, or assumed, by the government of the
United States. Some sessions ago, a bill was introduced into the Senate
by my worthy colleague, and passed into a law, for paying a large
part of the principal sum advanced by Massachusetts for militia
expenses for defence of the country. This has been paid. The residue
of the claim is in the proper course of examination; and such parts
of it as ought to be allowed will doubtless be paid hereafter, _vetos_
being out of the way, be it always understood. In the late bill, it
was proposed that _interest_ should be paid to the States on these
advances, in cases where it had not been already paid. It passed both
Houses. I recollect no opposition to it in the Senate nor do I
remember to have heard of any considerable objection in the House of
Representatives. The argument for it lay in its own obvious justice; a
justice too apparent, as it seems to me, to be denied by any one. I
left Congress, Sir, a day or two before its adjournment, and,
meeting some friends in this village on my way home, we exchanged
congratulations on this additional act of justice thus rendered to
Massachusetts, as well as other States. But I had hardly reached
Framingham, before I learned that our congratulations were premature.
The President's signature had been refused, and the bill was not a
law! The only reason which I have ever heard for this refusal is,
that Congress had not been in the practice of allowing interest on
claims. This is not true, as a universal rule; but if it were, might
not Congress be trusted with the maintenance of its own rules? Might
it not make exceptions to them for good cause? There is no doubt
that, in regard to old and long-neglected claims, it has been customary
not to allow interest; but the Massachusetts claim was not of this
character, nor were the claims of other States. None of them had
remained unpaid for want of presentment. The executive and legislature
of this Commonwealth have never omitted to press her demand for justice,
and her delegates in Congress have endeavored to discharge their duty
by supporting that demand. It has been already decided, in repeated
instances, as well in regard to States as to individuals, that when
money has been actually _borrowed_, for objects for which the
general government ought to provide, interest paid on such _borrowed
money_ shall be refunded by the United States. Now, Sir, would it not
be a distinction without a difference to allow interest in such a
case, and yet refuse it in another, in which the State had not borrowed
the money, and paid interest for it, but had raised it by taxation,
or, as I believe was the case with Massachusetts, by the sale of
valuable stocks, _bearing interest_? Is it not apparent, that, in her
case, as clearly as in that of a _borrowing_ State, she has actually
_lost_ the interest? Can any man maintain that between these two cases
there is any sound distinction, in law, in equity, or in morals? The
refusal to sign this bill has deprived Massachusetts and Maine of a
very large sum of money, justly due to them. It is now fifteen or
sixteen years since the money was advanced; and it was advanced for the
most necessary and praiseworthy public purposes. The interest on the
sum already refunded, and on that which may reasonably be expected to
be hereafter refunded, is not less than _five hundred thousand
dollars_. But for the President's refusal, in this unusual mode, to
give his approbation to a bill which had passed Congress almost
unanimously, these two States would already have been in the receipt of
a very considerable portion of this money, and the residue, to be
received in due season, would have been made sure to them.
Mr. President, I do not desire to raise mere pecuniary interests to an
undue importance in political matters. I admit there are principles and
objects of paramount obligation and importance. I would not oppose the
President merely because he has refused to the State what I thought her
entitled to, in a matter of money, provided he had made known his
reasons, and they had appeared to be such as might fairly influence an
intelligent and honest mind. But in a matter of such great and direct
importance to a State, where the justice of the case is so plain, that
men agree in it who agree in hardly any thing else, where her claim
has passed Congress without considerable opposition in either House,
a refusal to approve the bill without giving the slightest reason,
the taking advantage of the rising of Congress to give it a silent
go-by, _is_ an act that may well awaken the attention of the people
in the States concerned. It _is_ an act requiring close examination. It
_is_ an act which calls loudly for justification by its author. And
now, Sir, I will close what I have to say on this particular subject by
stating, that, on the 22d of March, 1832, the President did actually
approve and sign a bill, in favor of South Carolina, by which it was
enacted that her claim _for interest upon money actually expended_ by
her for military stores during the late war should be settled and
paid; _the money so expended having been drawn by the State from a
fund upon which she was receiving interest_. This was precisely the
case of Massachusetts.
* * * * *
Mr. President, I now approach an inquiry of a far deeper and more
affecting interest. Are the principles and measures of the
administration dangerous to the Constitution and to the union of the
States? Sir, I believe them to be so, and I shall state the grounds of
that belief.
In the first place, any administration is dangerous to the Constitution
and to the union of the States, which denies the essential powers of the
Constitution, and thus strips it of the capacity to do the good intended
by it.
The principles embraced by the administration, and expressed in the veto
message, are evidently hostile to the whole system of protection by
duties of impost, _on constitutional grounds_. Here, then, is _one_
great power struck at once out of the Constitution, and one great end of
its adoption defeated. And while this power is thus struck out of the
Constitution, it is clear that it exists nowhere else, since the
Constitution expressly takes it away from all the States.
The veto message denies the constitutional power of creating or
continuing such an institution as our whole experience has approved, for
maintaining a sound, uniform, national currency, and for the safe
collection of revenue. Here is _another_ power, long used, and now
lopped off. And _this_ power, too, thus lopped off from the
Constitution, is evidently not within the power of any of the individual
States. No State can maintain a national currency; no State institution
can render to the revenue the services performed by a national
institution.
The principles of the administration are hostile to internal
improvements. Here is another power, heretofore exercised in many
instances, now denied. The administration denies the power, except with
qualifications which cast an air of ridicule over the whole subject;
being founded on such distinctions as between salt water and fresh
water, places above custom-houses and places below, and others equally
extraordinary.
Now, Sir, in all these respects, as well as in others, I think the
principles of the administration are at war with the true principles of
the Constitution; and that, by the zeal and industry which it exerts to
support its own principles, it does daily weaken the Constitution, and
does put in doubt its long continuance. The inroad of to-day opens the
way for an easier inroad to-morrow. When any one essential part is rent
away, or, what is nearer the truth, when many essential parts are rent
away, who is there to tell us _how long any other part is to remain_?
Sir, our condition is singularly paradoxical. We have an administration
opposed to the Constitution; we have an opposition which is the main
support of the government and the laws. We have an administration
denying to the very government which it administers powers that have
been exercised for forty years; it denies the protective power, the bank
power, and the power of internal improvement. The great and leading
measures of the national legislature are all resisted by it. These,
strange as it may seem, depend on the _opposition_ for support. We have,
in truth, an opposition, without which it would be difficult for the
government to get along at all. I appeal to every member of Congress
present, (and I am happy to see many here,) to say what would now become
of the government, if all the members of the opposition were withdrawn
from Congress. For myself, I declare my own conviction that its
continuance would probably be very short. Take away the opposition from
Congress, and let us see what would probably be done, the first session.
The TARIFF would be entirely _repealed_. Every enactment having
protection by duties as its main object would be struck from the
statute-book. This would be the first thing done. Every work of internal
improvement would be stopped. This would follow, as matter of course.
The bank would go down, and a _treasury money agency_ would take its
place. The Judiciary Act of 1789 would be repealed, so that the Supreme
Court should exercise no power of revision over State decisions. And who
would resist the doctrines of NULLIFICATION? Look, Sir, to the votes of
Congress for the last three years, and you will see that each of these
things would, in all human probability, take place at the next session,
if the opposition were to be withdrawn. The Constitution is threatened,
therefore, imminently threatened, by the very fact that those intrusted
with its administration are hostile to its essential powers.
But, Sir, in my opinion, a yet greater danger threatens the Constitution
and the government; and that is from the attempt _to extend the power of
the executive at the expense of all the other branches of the
government, and of the people themselves_. Whatever accustomed power is
denied to the Constitution, whatever accustomed power is denied to
Congress, or to the judiciary, _none is denied to the executive_. Here
there is no retrenchment; here no apprehension is felt for the liberties
of the people; here it is not thought necessary to erect barriers
against corruption.
I begin, Sir, with the subject of removals from office for opinion's
sake, one of the most signal instances, as I think, of the attempt to
extend executive power. This has been a leading measure, a cardinal
point, in the course of the administration. It has proceeded, from the
first, on a settled proscription for political opinions; and this system
it has carried into operation to the full extent of its ability. The
President has not only filled all vacancies with his own friends,
generally those most distinguished as personal partisans, but he has
turned out political opponents, and thus created vacancies, in order
that he might fill them with his own friends. I think the number of
removals and appointments is said to be _two thousand_. While the
administration and its friends have been attempting to circumscribe and
to decry the powers belonging to other branches, it has thus seized into
its own hands a patronage most pernicious and corrupting, an authority
over men's means of living most tyrannical and odious, and a power to
punish free men for political opinions altogether intolerable.
You will remember, Sir, that the Constitution says not one word about
the President's power of removal from office. It is a power raised
entirely by construction. It is a constructive power, introduced at
first to meet cases of extreme public necessity. It has now become
coextensive with the executive will, calling for no necessity, requiring
no exigency for its exercise; to be employed at all times, without
control, without question, without responsibility. When the question of
the President's power of removal was debated in the first Congress,
those who argued for it limited it to _extreme cases_. Cases, they said,
might arise, in which it would be _absolutely necessary_ to remove an
officer before the Senate could be assembled. An officer might become
insane; he might abscond; and from these and other supposable cases, it
was said, the public service might materially suffer if the President
could not remove the incumbent. And it was further said, that there was
little or no danger of the abuse of the power for party or personal
objects. No President, it was thought, would ever commit such an outrage
on public opinion. Mr. Madison, who thought the power ought to exist,
and to be exercised in cases of high necessity, declared, nevertheless,
that if a President should resort to the power when not required by any
public exigency, and merely for personal objects, _he would deserve to
be impeached_. By a very small majority,--I think, in the Senate, by the
casting vote of the Vice-President,--Congress decided in favor of the
existence of the power of removal, upon the grounds which I have
mentioned; granting the power in a case of clear and absolute necessity,
and denying its existence everywhere else.
Mr. President, we should recollect that this question was discussed, and
thus decided, when Washington was in the executive chair. Men knew that
in his hands the power would not be abused; nor did they conceive it
possible that any of his successors could so far depart from his great
and bright example, as, by abuse of the power, and by carrying that
abuse to its utmost extent, to change the essential character of the
executive from that of an impartial guardian and executor of the laws
into that of the chief dispenser of party rewards. Three or four
instances of removal occurred in the first twelve years of the
government. At the commencement of Mr. Jefferson's administration, he
made several others, not without producing much dissatisfaction; so much
so, that he thought it expedient to give reasons to the people, in a
public paper, for even the limited extent to which he had exercised the
power. He rested his justification on particular circumstances and
peculiar grounds; which, whether substantial or not, showed, at least,
that he did not regard the power of removal as an ordinary power, still
less as a mere arbitrary one, to be used as he pleased, for whatever
ends he pleased, and without responsibility. As far as I remember, Sir,
after the early part of Mr. Jefferson's administration, hardly an
instance occurred for near thirty years. If there were any instances,
they were few. But at the commencement of the present administration,
the precedent of these previous cases was seized on, and a _system_, a
regular _plan of government_, a well-considered scheme for the
maintenance of party power by the patronage of office, and this
patronage to be created by general removal, was adopted, and has been
carried into full operation. Indeed, before General Jackson's
inauguration, the party put the system into practice. In the last
session of Mr. Adams's administration, the friends of General Jackson
constituted a majority in the Senate; and nominations, made by Mr. Adams
to fill vacancies which had occurred in the ordinary way, were
postponed, by this majority, beyond the 3d of March, _for the purpose,
openly avowed, of giving the nominations to General Jackson_. A
nomination for a judge of the Supreme Court, and many others of less
magnitude, were thus disposed of.
And what did we witness, Sir, when the administration actually
commenced, in the full exercise of its authority? One universal sweep,
one undistinguishing blow, levelled against all who were not of the
successful party. No worth, public or private, no service, civil or
military, was of power to resist the relentless greediness of
proscription. Soldiers of the late war, soldiers of the Revolutionary
war, the very contemporaries of the independence of the country, all
lost their situations. No office was too high, and none too low; for
_office_ was the spoil, and "_all the spoils_," it is said, "belong to
the _victors_!" If a man holding an office necessary for his daily
support had presented himself covered with the scars of wounds received
in every battle, from Bunker Hill to Yorktown, these would not have
protected him against this reckless rapacity. Nay, Sir, if Warren
himself had been among the living, and had possessed any office under
government, high or low, he would not have been suffered to hold it a
single hour, unless he could show that he had strictly complied with the
party statutes, and had put a well-marked party collar round his own
neck. Look, Sir, to the case of the late venerable Major Melville. He
was a personification of the spirit of 1776, one of the earliest to
venture in the cause of liberty. He was of the Tea Party; one of the
very first to expose himself to British power. And his whole life was
consonant with this, its beginning. Always ardent in the cause of
liberty, always a zealous friend to his country, always acting with the
party which he supposed cherished the genuine republican spirit most
fervently, always estimable and respectable in private life, he seemed
armed against this miserable petty tyranny of party as far as man could
be. But he felt its blow, and he fell. He held an office in the
custom-house, and had held it for a long course of years; and he was
deprived of it, as if unworthy to serve the country which he loved, and
for whose liberties, in the vigor of his early manhood, he had thrust
himself into the very jaws of its enemies. There was no mistake in the
matter. His character, his standing, his Revolutionary services, were
all well known; but they were known to no purpose; they weighed not one
feather against party pretensions. It cost no pains to remove him; it
cost no compunction to wring his aged heart with this retribution from
his country for his services, his zeal, and his fidelity. Sir, you will
bear witness,[98] that, when his successor was nominated to the Senate,
and the Senate were informed who had been removed to make way for that
nomination, its members were struck with horror. They had not conceived
the administration to be capable of such a thing; and yet, they said,
What can _we_ do? The man is removed; _we_ cannot recall him; we can
only act upon the nomination before us. Sir, you and I thought
otherwise; and I rejoice that we did think otherwise. We thought it our
duty to resist the nomination to fill a vacancy thus created. We thought
it our duty to oppose this proscription, when, and where, and as, we
constitutionally could. We besought the Senate to go with us, and to
take a stand before the country on this great question. We invoked them
to try the deliberate sense of the people; to trust themselves before
the tribunal of public opinion; to resist at first, to resist at last,
to resist always, the introduction of this unsocial, this mischievous,
this dangerous, this belligerent principle into the practice of the
government.
Mr. President, as far as I know, there is no civilized country on earth,
in which, on a change of rulers, there is such an _inquisition for
spoil_ as we have witnessed in this free republic. The Inaugural Address
of 1829 spoke of a _searching operation_ of government. The most
searching operation, Sir, of the present administration, has been its
search for office and place. When, Sir, did any English minister, Whig
or Tory, ever make such an inquest? When did he ever go down to
low-water-mark, to make an ousting of tide-waiters? When did he ever
take away the daily bread of weighers, and gaugers, and measurers? When
did he ever go into the villages, to disturb the little post-offices,
the mail contracts, and every thing else in the remotest degree
connected with government? Sir, a British minister who should do this,
and should afterwards show his head in a British House of Commons, would
be received by a universal hiss.
I have little to say of the selections made to fill vacancies thus
created. It is true, however, and it is a natural consequence of the
system which has been acted on, that, within the last three years, more
nominations have been rejected on the ground of _unfitness_, than in all
the preceding forty years of the government. And these nominations, you
know, Sir, could not have been rejected but by votes of the President's
own friends. The cases were too strong to be resisted. Even party
attachment could not stand them. In some not a third of the Senate, in
others not ten votes, and in others not a single vote, could be
obtained; and this for no particular reason known only to the Senate,
but on general grounds of the want of character and qualifications; on
grounds known to every body else, as well as to the Senate. All this,
Sir, is perfectly natural and consistent. The same party selfishness
which drives good men out of office will push bad men in. Political
proscription leads necessarily to the filling of offices with
incompetent persons, and to a consequent mal-execution of official
duties. And in my opinion, Sir, this principle of claiming a monopoly of
office by the right of conquest, unless the public shall effectually
rebuke and restrain it, will entirely change the character of our
government. It elevates party above country; it forgets the common weal
in the pursuit of personal emolument; it tends to form, it does form, we
see that it has formed, a political combination, united by no common
principles or opinions among its members, either upon the powers of the
government, or the true policy of the country; but held together simply
as an association, under the charm of a popular head, seeking to
maintain possession of the government by a _vigorous exercise of its
patronage_; and for this purpose agitating, and alarming, and
distressing social life by the exercise of a tyrannical party
proscription. Sir, if this course of things cannot be checked, good men
will grow tired of the exercise of political privileges. They will have
nothing to do with popular elections. They will see that such elections
are but a mere selfish contest for office; and they will abandon the
government to the scramble of the bold, the daring, and the desperate.
It seems, Mr. President, to be a peculiar and singular characteristic of
the present administration, that it came into power on a cry against
abuses, _which did not exist_, and then, as soon as it was in, as if in
mockery of the perception and intelligence of the people, _it created
those very abuses_, and carried them to a great length. Thus the chief
magistrate himself, before he came into the chair, in a formal public
paper, denounced the practice of appointing members of Congress to
office. He said, that, if that practice continued, _corruption would
become the order of the day_; and, as if to fasten and nail down his own
consistency to that point, he declared that it was _due to himself to
practise what he recommended to others_. Yet, Sir, as soon as he was in
power, these fastenings gave way, the nails all flew, and the promised
_consistency_ remains a striking proof of the manner in which political
assurances are sometimes fulfilled. He has already appointed more
members of Congress to office than any of his predecessors, in the
longest period of administration. Before his time, there was no reason
to complain of these appointments. They had not been numerous under any
administration. Under this, they have been numerous, and some of them
such as may well justify complaint.
Another striking instance of the exhibition of the same characteristics
may be found in the sentiments of the Inaugural Address, and in the
subsequent practice, on the subject of _interfering with the freedom of
elections_. The Inaugural Address declares, that it is necessary to
reform abuses which have _brought the patronage of the government into
conflict with the freedom of elections_. And what has been the
subsequent practice? Look to the newspapers; look to the published
letters of officers of the government, advising, exhorting, soliciting,
friends and partisans to greater exertions in the cause of the party;
see all done, everywhere, which patronage and power can do, to affect,
not only elections in the general government, but also in every State
government, and then say, how well _this_ promise of reforming abuses
has been kept. At what former period, under what former administration,
did public officers of the United Stales thus interfere in elections?
Certainly, Sir, never. In this respect, then, as well as in others, that
which was not true as a charge against previous administrations would
have been true, if it had assumed the form of a prophecy respecting the
acts of the present.
* * * * *
But there is another attempt to grasp and to wield a power over public
opinion, of a still more daring character, and far more dangerous
effects.
In all popular governments, a FREE PRESS is the most important of all
agents and instruments. It not only expresses public opinion, but, to a
very great degree, it contributes to form that opinion. It is an engine
for good or for evil, as it may be directed; but an engine of which
nothing can resist the force. The conductors of the press, in popular
governments, occupy a place, in the social and political system, of the
very highest consequence. They wear the character of public instructors.
Their daily labors bear directly on the intelligence, the morals, the
taste, and the public spirit of the country. Not only are they
journalists, recording political occurrences, but they discuss
principles, they comment on measures, they canvass characters; they hold
a power over the reputation, the feelings, the happiness, of
individuals. The public ear is always open to their addresses, the
public sympathy easily made responsive to their sentiments. It is
indeed, Sir, a distinction of high honor, that theirs is the only
profession expressly protected and guarded by constitutional enactments.
Their employment soars so high, in its general consequences it is so
intimately connected with the public happiness, that its security is
provided for by the fundamental law. While it acts in a manner worthy of
this distinction, the press is a fountain of light, and a source of
gladdening warmth. It instructs the public mind, and animates the spirit
of patriotism. Its loud voice suppresses every thing which would raise
itself against the public liberty; and its blasting rebuke causes
incipient despotism to perish in the bud.
But remember, Sir, that these are the attributes of a FREE press only.
And is a press that is purchased or pensioned more free than a press
that is fettered? Can the people look for truths to partial sources,
whether rendered partial through fear or through favor? Why shall not a
manacled press be trusted with the maintenance and defence of popular
rights? Because it is supposed to be under the influence of a power
which may prove greater than the love of truth. Such a press may screen
abuses in government, or be silent. It may fear to speak. And may it not
fear to speak, too, when its conductors, if they speak in any but one
way, may lose their means of livelihood? Is dependence on government for
bread no temptation to screen its abuses? Will the press always speak
the truth, when the truth, if spoken, may be the means of silencing it
for the future? Is the truth in no danger, is the watchman under no
temptation, when he can neither proclaim the approach of national evils,
nor seem to descry them, without the loss of his place?
Mr. President, an open attempt to secure the aid and friendship of the
public press, by bestowing the emoluments of office on its active
conductors, seems to me, of every thing we have witnessed, to be the
most reprehensible. It degrades both the government and the press.
As far as its natural effect extends, it turns the palladium of
liberty into an engine of party. It brings the agency, activity,
energy, and patronage of government all to bear, with united force, on
the means of general intelligence, and on the adoption or rejection of
political opinions. It so completely perverts the true object of
government, it so entirely revolutionizes our whole system, that the
chief business of those in power is directed rather to the propagation
of opinions favorable to themselves, than to the execution of the laws.
This propagation of opinions, through the press, becomes the main
administrative duty. Some fifty or sixty editors of leading journals
have been appointed to office by the present executive. A stand has
been made against this proceeding, in the Senate, with partial
success; but, by means of appointments which do not come before the
Senate, or other means, the number has been carried to the extent I have
mentioned. Certainly, Sir, the editors of the public journals are
not to be disfranchised. Certainly they are fair candidates either for
popular elections, or a just participation in office. Certainly they
reckon in their number some of the first geniuses, the best scholars,
and the most honest and well-principled men in the country. But the
complaint is against the _system_, against the _practice_, against
the undisguised attempt to secure the favor of the press by means
addressed to its pecuniary interest, and these means, too, drawn from
the public treasury, being no other than the appointed compensations
for the performance of official duties. Sir, the press itself should
resent this. Its own character for purity and independence is at
stake. It should resist a connection rendering it obnoxious to so
many imputations. It should point to its honorable denomination in our
constitutions of government, and it should maintain the character,
there ascribed to it, of a FREE PRESS.
There can, Sir, be no objection to the appointment of an editor to
office, if he is the fittest man. There can be no objection to
considering the services which, in that or in any other capacity, he
may have rendered his country. He may have done much to maintain her
rights against foreign aggression, and her character against insult.
He may have honored, as well as defended her; and may, therefore, be
justly regarded and selected, in the choice of faithful public agents.
But the ground of complaint is, that the aiding, by the press, of the
election of an individual, is rewarded, by that same individual,
with the gift of moneyed offices. Men are turned out of office, and
others put in, and receive salaries from the public treasury, on the
ground, either openly avowed or falsely denied, that they have rendered
service in the election of the very individual who makes this removal
and makes this appointment. Every man, Sir, must see that this is a
vital stab at the purity of the press. It not only assails its
independence, by addressing sinister motives to it, but it furnishes
from the public treasury the means of exciting these motives. It
extends the executive power over the press in a most daring manner. It
operates to give a direction to opinion, not favorable to the
government, in the aggregate; not favorable to the Constitution and
laws; not favorable to the legislature; but favorable to the executive
alone. The consequence often is, just what might be looked for, that
the portion of the press thus made fast to the executive interest
denounces Congress, denounces the judiciary, complains of the laws,
and quarrels with the Constitution. This exercise of the right of
appointment to this end is an augmentation, and a vast one, of the
executive power, singly and alone. It uses that power strongly against
all other branches of the government, and it uses it strongly, too,
for any struggle which it may be called on to make with the public
opinion of the country. Mr. President, I will quit this topic. There
is much in it, in my judgment, affecting, not only the purity and
independence of the press, but also the character and honor, the
peace and security, of the government. I leave it, in all its bearings,
to the consideration of the people.
* * * * *
Mr. President, among the novelties introduced into the government by the
present administration is the frequent use of the President's negative
on acts of Congress. Under former Presidents, this power has been deemed
an extraordinary one, to be exercised only in peculiar and marked cases.
It was vested in the President, doubtless, as a guard against hasty or
inconsiderate legislation, and against any act, inadvertently passed,
which might seem to encroach on the just authority of other branches of
the government. I do not recollect that, by all General Jackson's
predecessors, this power was exercised more than four or five times. Not
having recurred to the journals, I cannot, of course, be sure that I am
numerically accurate in this particular; but such is my belief. I
recollect no instance in the time of Mr. John Adams, Mr. Jefferson, or
Mr. John Quincy Adams. The only cases which occur to me are two in
General Washington's administration, two in Mr. Madison's, and one in
Mr. Monroe's. There may be some others; but we all know that it is a
power which has been very sparingly and reluctantly used, from the
beginning of the government. The cases, Sir, to which I have now
referred, were cases in which the President returned the bill with
objections. The silent veto is, I believe, the exclusive adoption of the
present administration. I think, indeed, that, some years ago, a bill,
by inadvertence or accident, failed to receive the President's
signature, and so did not become a law. But I am not aware of any
instance, before the present administration, in which the President has,
by design, omitted to sign a bill, and yet has not returned it to
Congress. But since that administration came into power, the veto, in
both kinds, has been repeatedly applied. In the case of the Maysville
Road, the Montgomery Road, and the bank, we have had the veto, _with_
reasons. In an internal improvement bill of a former session, in a
similar bill at the late session, and in the State interest bill, we
have had the silent veto, or refusal _without_ reasons.
Now, Sir, it is to be considered, that the President has the power of
recommending measures to Congress. Through his friends, he may and does
oppose, also, any legislative movement which he does not approve. If, in
addition to this, he may exercise a silent veto, at his pleasure, on all
the bills presented to him during the last ten days of the session; if
he may refuse assent to them all, without being called upon to assign
any reasons whatever,--it will certainly be a great practical
augmentation of his power. Any one, who looks at a volume of the
statutes, will see that a great portion of all the laws are actually
passed within the last ten days of each session. If the President is at
liberty to negative any or all of these laws, at pleasure, or rather, to
refuse to render the bills laws by approving them, and still may neglect
to return them to Congress for renewed action, he will hold a very
important control over the legislation of this country. The day of
adjournment is usually fixed some weeks in advance. This being fixed, a
little activity and perseverance may easily, in most cases, and perhaps
in all, where no alarm has been excited, postpone important pending
measures to a period within ten days of the close of the session; and
this operation subjects all such measures to the discretion of the
President, who may sign the bills or not, without being obliged to state
his reasons publicly.
The bill for rechartering the bank would have been inevitably destroyed
by the silent veto, if its friends had not refused to fix an any term
for adjournment before the President should have had the bill in his
possession so long as to be required constitutionally to sign it, or to
send it back with his reasons for not signing it. The two houses did not
agree, and would not agree, to fix a day for adjournment, until the bill
was sent to the President; and then care was taken to fix on such a day
as should allow him the whole constitutional period. This seasonable
presentment rescued the bill from the power of the silent negative.
This practical innovation on the mode of administering the government,
so much at variance with its general principles, and so capable of
defeating the most useful acts, deserves public consideration. Its
tendency is to disturb the harmony which ought always to exist between
Congress and the executive, and to turn that which the Constitution
intended only as an extraordinary remedy for extraordinary cases into a
common means of making executive discretion paramount to the discretion
of Congress, in the enactment of laws.
* * * * *
Mr. President, the executive has not only used these unaccustomed means
to prevent the passage of laws, but it has also refused to enforce the
execution of laws actually passed. An eminent instance of this is found
in the course adopted relative to the Indian intercourse law of 1802.
Upon being applied to, in behalf of the MISSIONARIES, to execute that
law, for their relief and protection, the President replied, that, _the
State of Georgia having extended her laws over the Indian territory, the
laws of Congress had thereby been superseded_. This is the substance of
his answer, as communicated through the Secretary of War. He holds,
then, that the law of the State is paramount to the law of Congress. The
Supreme Court has adjudged this act of Georgia to be void, as being
repugnant to a constitutional law of the United States. But the
President pays no more regard to this decision than to the act of
Congress itself. The missionaries remain in prison, held there by a
condemnation under a law of a State which the supreme judicial tribunal
has pronounced to be null and void. The Supreme Court have decided that
the act of Congress is constitutional; that it is a binding statute;
that it has the same force as other laws, and is as much entitled to be
obeyed and executed as other laws. The President, on the contrary,
declares that the law of Congress has been superseded by the law of the
State, and therefore he will not carry its provisions into effect. Now
we know, Sir, that the Constitution of the United States declares, that
that Constitution, and all acts of Congress passed in pursuance of it,
shall be the supreme law of the land, any thing in any State law to the
contrary notwithstanding. This would seem to be a plain case, then, in
which the law should be executed. It has been solemnly decided to be in
actual force, by the highest judicial authority; its execution is
demanded for the relief of free citizens, now suffering the pains of
unjust and unlawful imprisonment; yet the President refuses to execute
it.
In the case of the Chicago Road, some sessions ago, the President
approved the bill, but accompanied his approval by a message, saying how
far he deemed it a proper law, and how far, therefore, it ought to be
carried into execution.
In the case of the harbor bill of the late session, being applied to by
a member of Congress for directions for carrying parts of the law into
effect, he declined giving them, and made a distinction between such
parts of the law as he should cause to be executed, and such as he
should not; and his right to make this distinction has been openly
maintained, by those who habitually defend his measures. Indeed, Sir,
these, and other instances of liberties taken with plain statute
laws, flow naturally from the principles expressly avowed by the
President, under his own hand. In that important document, Sir, upon
which it seems to be his fate to stand or to fall before the American
people, the veto message, he holds the following language:--"Each
public officer who takes an oath to support the Constitution, swears
that he will support it as he understands it, and not as it is
understood by others." Mr. President, the general adoption of the
sentiments expressed in this sentence would dissolve our government.
It would raise every man's private opinions into a standard for his
own conduct; and there certainly is, there can be, no government, where
every man is to judge for himself of his own rights and his own
obligations. Where every one is his own arbiter, force, and not law,
is the governing power. He who may judge for himself, and decide for
himself, must execute his own decisions; and this is the law of
force. I confess, Sir, it strikes me with astonishment, that so
wild, so disorganizing, a sentiment should be uttered by a President
of the United States. I should think it must have escaped from its
author through want of reflection, or from the habit of little
reflection on such subjects, if I could suppose it possible, that, on
a question exciting so much public attention, and of so much national
importance, any such extraordinary doctrine could find its way,
through inadvertence, into a formal and solemn public act. Standing as
it does, it affirms a proposition which would effectually repeal all
constitutional and all legal obligations. The Constitution declares,
that every public officer, in the State governments as well as in the
general government, shall take an oath to support the Constitution of
the United States. This is all. Would it not have cast an air of
ridicule on the whole provision, if the Constitution had gone on to add
the words, "as he understands it"? What could come nearer to a
solemn farce, than to bind a man by oath, and still leave him to be his
own interpreter of his own obligation? Sir, those who are to execute
the laws have no more a license to construe them for themselves, than
those whose only duty is to obey them. Public officers are bound to
support the Constitution; private citizens are bound to obey it; and
there is no more indulgence granted to the public officer to support
the Constitution only _as he understands it_, than to a private citizen
to obey it only _as he understands it_; and what is true of the
Constitution, in this respect, is equally true of any law. Laws are to
be executed, and to be obeyed, not as individuals may interpret
them, but according to public, authoritative interpretation and
adjudication. The sentiment of the message would abrogate the
obligation of the whole criminal code. If every man is to judge of
the Constitution and the laws for himself, if he is to obey and
support them only as he may say he understands them, a revolution, I
think, would take place in the administration of justice; and
discussions about the law of treason, murder, and arson should be
addressed, not to the judicial bench, but to those who might stand
charged with such offences. The object of discussion should be, if we
run out this notion to its natural extent, to enlighten the culprit
himself how he ought to understand the law.
Mr. President, how is it possible that a sentiment so wild, and so
dangerous, so encouraging to all who feel a desire to oppose the laws,
and to impair the Constitution, should have been uttered by the
President of the United States at this eventful and critical moment? Are
we not threatened with dissolution of the Union? Are we not told that
the laws of the government shall be openly and directly resisted? Is not
the whole country looking, with the utmost anxiety, to what may be the
result of these threatened courses? And at this very moment, so full of
peril to the state, the chief magistrate puts forth opinions and
sentiments as truly subversive of all government, as absolutely in
conflict with the authority of the Constitution, as the wildest theories
of nullification. Mr. President, I have very little regard for the law,
or the logic, of nullification. But there is not an individual in its
ranks, capable of putting two ideas together, who, if you will grant him
the principles of the veto message, cannot defend all that nullification
has ever threatened.
To make this assertion good, Sir, let us see how the case stands. The
Legislature of South Carolina, it is said, will nullify the late revenue
or tariff law, because, _they say_, it is not warranted by the
Constitution of the United States, _as they understand the
Constitution_. They, as well as the President of the United States, have
sworn to support the Constitution. Both he and they have taken the same
oath, in the same words. Now, Sir, since he claims the right to
interpret the Constitution as he pleases, how can he deny the same right
to them? Is his oath less stringent than theirs? Has he a prerogative
of dispensation which they do not possess? How can he answer them, when
they tell him, that the revenue laws are unconstitutional, _as they
understand the Constitution_, and that therefore they will nullify them?
Will he reply to them, according to the doctrines of his annual message
in 1830, that _precedent_ has settled the question, if it was ever
doubtful? They will answer him in his own words in the veto message,
that, in such a case, _precedent_ is not binding. Will he say to them,
that the revenue law is a law of Congress, which must be executed until
it shall be declared void? They will answer him, that, in other cases,
he has himself refused to execute laws of Congress which had not been
declared void, but which had been, on the contrary, declared valid. Will
he urge the force of judicial decisions? They will answer, that he
himself does not admit the binding obligation of such decisions. Sir,
the President of the United States is of opinion, that an individual,
called on to execute a law, may himself judge of its constitutional
validity. Does nullification teach any thing more revolutionary than
that? The President is of opinion, that judicial interpretations of the
Constitution and the laws do not bind the consciences, and ought not to
bind the conduct, of men. Is nullification at all more disorganizing
than that? The President is of opinion, that every officer is bound to
support the Constitution only according to what ought to be, in his
private opinion, its construction. Has nullification, in its wildest
flight, ever reached to an extravagance like that? No, Sir, never. The
doctrine of nullification, in my judgment a most false, dangerous, and
revolutionary doctrine, is this; that _the State_, or _a State_, may
declare the extent of the obligations which its citizens are under to
the United States; in other words, that a State, by State laws and State
judicatures, may conclusively construe the Constitution for its own
citizens. But that every individual may construe it for himself is a
refinement on the theory of resistance to constitutional power, a
sublimation of the right of being disloyal to the Union, a free charter
for the elevation of private opinion above the authority of the
fundamental law of the state, such as was never presented to the public
view, and the public astonishment, even by nullification itself. Its
first appearance is in the veto message. Melancholy, lamentable, indeed,
Sir, is our condition, when, at a moment of serious danger and
wide-spread alarm, such sentiments are found to proceed from the chief
magistrate of the government. Sir, I cannot feel that the Constitution
is safe in such hands. I cannot feel that the present administration is
its fit and proper guardian.
But let me ask, Sir, what evidence there is, that the President is
himself opposed to the doctrines of nullification: I do not say to the
political party which now pushes these doctrines, but to the doctrines
themselves. Has he anywhere rebuked them? Has he anywhere discouraged
them? Has his influence been exerted to inspire respect for the
Constitution, and to produce obedience to the laws? Has he followed the
bright example of his predecessors? Has he held fast by the institutions
of the country? Has he summoned the good and the wise around him? Has he
admonished the country that the Union is in danger, and called on all
the patriotic to come out in its support? Alas! Sir, we have seen
nothing, nothing, of all this.
Mr. President, I shall not discuss the doctrine of nullification. I am
sure it can have no friends here. Gloss it and disguise it as we may, it
is a pretence incompatible with the authority of the Constitution. If
direct separation be not its only mode of operation, separation is,
nevertheless, its direct consequence. That a State may nullify a law of
the Union, and still remain in the Union; that she may have Senators and
Representatives in the government, and yet be at liberty to disobey and
resist that government; that she may partake in the common councils, and
yet not be bound by their results; that she may control a law of
Congress, so that it shall be one thing with her, while it is another
thing with the rest of the States;--all these propositions seem to me so
absolutely at war with common sense and reason, that I do not understand
how any intelligent person can yield the slightest assent to them.
Nullification, it is in vain to attempt to conceal it, is dissolution;
it is dismemberment; it is the breaking up of the Union. If it shall
practically succeed in any one State, from that moment there are
twenty-four States in the Union no longer. Now, Sir, I think it
exceedingly probable that the President may come to an open rupture with
that portion of his original party which now constitutes what is called
the Nullification party. I think it likely he will oppose the
proceedings of that party, if they shall adopt measures coming directly
in conflict with the laws of the United States. But how will he oppose?
What will be his course of remedy? Sir, I wish to call the attention of
the Convention, and of the people, earnestly to this question,--How will
the President attempt to put down nullification, if he shall attempt it
at all?
Sir, for one, I protest in advance against such remedies as I have heard
hinted. The administration itself keeps a profound silence, but its
friends have spoken for it. We are told, Sir, that the President will
immediately employ the military force, and at once blockade Charleston!
A military remedy, a remedy by direct belligerent operation, has been
thus suggested, and nothing else has been suggested, as the intended
means of preserving the Union. Sir, there is no little reason to think,
that this suggestion is true. We cannot be altogether unmindful of the
past, and therefore we cannot be altogether unapprehensive for the
future. For one, Sir, I raise my voice beforehand against the
unauthorized employment of military power, and against superseding the
authority of the laws, by an armed force, under pretence of putting down
nullification. The President has no authority to blockade Charleston;
the President has no authority to employ military force, till he shall
be duly required so to do, by law, and by the civil authorities. His
duty is to cause the laws to be executed. His duty is to support the
civil authority. His duty is, if the laws be resisted, to employ the
military force of the country, if necessary, for their support and
execution; but to do all this in compliance only with law, and with
decisions of the tribunals. If, by any ingenious devices, those who
resist the laws escape from the reach of judicial authority, as it is
now provided to be exercised, it is entirely competent to Congress to
make such new provisions as the exigency of the case may demand. These
provisions undoubtedly would be made. With a constitutional and
efficient head of the government, with an administration really and
truly in favor of the Constitution, the country can grapple with
nullification. By the force of reason, by the progress of enlightened
opinion, by the natural, genuine patriotism of the country, and by the
steady and well-sustained operations of law, the progress of
disorganization may be successfully checked, and the Union maintained.
Let it be remembered, that, where nullification is most powerful, it is
not unopposed. Let it be remembered, that they who would break up the
Union by force have to march toward that object through thick ranks of
as brave and good men as the country can show; men strong in character,
strong in intelligence, strong in the purity of their own motives, and
ready, always ready, to sacrifice their fortunes and their lives to the
preservation of the constitutional union of the States. If we can
relieve the country from an administration which denies to the
Constitution those powers which are the breath of its life; if we can
place the government in the hands of its friends; if we can secure it
against the dangers of irregular and unlawful military force; if it can
be under the lead of an administration whose moderation, firmness, and
wisdom shall inspire confidence and command respect,--we may yet
surmount the dangers, numerous and formidable as they are, which
surround us.
Sir, I see little prospect of overcoming these dangers without a change
of men. After all that has passed, the reflection of the present
executive will give the national sanction to sentiments and to measures
which will effectually change the government; which, in short, must
destroy the government. If the President be reflected, with concurrent
and coöperating majorities in both houses of Congress, I do not see,
that, in four years more, all the power which is suffered to remain in
the government will not be held by the executive hand. Nullification
will proceed, or will be put down by a power as unconstitutional as
itself. The revenues will be managed by a treasury bank. The use of the
veto will be considered as sanctioned by the public voice. The Senate,
if not "cut down," will be bound down, and, the President commanding the
army and the navy, and holding all places of trust to be party property,
what will then be left, Sir, for constitutional reliance?
Sir, we have been accustomed to venerate the judiciary, and to repose
hopes of safety on that branch of the government. But let us not deceive
ourselves. The judicial power cannot stand for a long time against the
executive power. The judges, it is true, hold their places by an
independent tenure; but they are mortal. That which is the common lot of
humanity must make it necessary to renew the benches of justice. And how
will they be filled? Doubtless, Sir, they will be filled by judges
agreeing with the President in his constitutional opinions. If the court
is felt as an obstacle, the first opportunity and every opportunity
will certainly be embraced to give it less and less the character of an
obstacle. Sir, without pursuing these suggestions, I only say that the
country must prepare itself for any change in the judicial department
such as it shall deliberately sanction in other departments.
But, Sir, what is the prospect of change? Is there any hope that the
national sentiment will recover its accustomed tone, and restore to the
government a just and efficient administration?
Sir, if there be something of doubt on this point, there is also
something, perhaps much, of hope. The popularity of the present
chief magistrate, springing from causes not connected with his
administration of the government, has been great. Public gratitude
for military service has remained fast to him, in defiance of many
things in his civil administration calculated to weaken its hold. At
length there are indications, not to be mistaken, of new sentiments
and new impressions. At length, a conviction of danger to important
interests, and to the security of the government, has made its
lodgement in the public mind. At length, public sentiment begins to have
its free course and to produce its just effects. I fully believe,
Sir, that a great majority of the nation desire a change in the
administration; and that it will be difficult for party organization
or party denunciation to suppress the effective utterance of that
general wish. There are unhappy differences, it is true, about the
fit person to be successor to the present incumbent in the chief
magistracy; and it is possible that this disunion may, in the end,
defeat the will of the majority. But so far as we agree together, let
us act together. Wherever our sentiments concur, let our hands
coöperate. If we cannot at present agree who should be President, we are
at least agreed who ought not to be. I fully believe, Sir, that
gratifying intelligence is already on the wing. While we are yet
deliberating in Massachusetts, Pennsylvania is voting. This week, she
elects her members to the next Congress. I doubt not the result of
that election will show an important change in public sentiment in
that State; nor can I doubt that the great States adjoining her,
holding similar constitutional principles and having similar interests,
will feel the impulse of the same causes which affect her. The people
of the United States, by a countless majority, are attached to the
Constitution. If they shall be convinced that it is in danger, they
will come to its rescue, and will save it. It cannot bi destroyed,
even now, if THEY will undertake its guardianship and protection.
But suppose, Sir, there was less hope than there is, would that
consideration weaken the force of our obligations? Are we at a post
which we are at liberty to desert when it becomes difficult to hold it?
May we fly at the approach of danger? Does our fidelity to the
Constitution require no more of us than to enjoy its blessings, to bask
in the prosperity which it has shed around us and our fathers? and are
we at liberty to abandon it in the hour of its peril, or to make for it
but a faint and heartless struggle, for the want of encouragement and
the want of hope? Sir, if no State come to our succor, if everywhere
else the contest should be given up, here let it be protracted to the
last moment. Here, where the first blood of the Revolution was shed, let
the last effort be made for that which is the greatest blessing obtained
by the Revolution, a free and united government. Sir, in our endeavors
to maintain our existing forms of government, we are acting not for
ourselves alone, but for the great cause of constitutional liberty all
over the globe. We are trustees holding a sacred treasure, in which all
the lovers of freedom have a stake. Not only in revolutionized France,
where there are no longer subjects, where the monarch can no longer say,
I am the state; not only in reformed England, where our principles, our
institutions, our practice of free government, are now daily quoted and
commended; but in the depths of Germany, also, and among the desolated
fields and the still smoking ashes of Poland, prayers are uttered for
the preservation of our union and happiness. We are surrounded, Sir, by
a cloud of witnesses. The gaze of the sons of liberty, everywhere, is
upon us, anxiously, intently, upon us. They may see us fall in the
struggle for our Constitution and government, but Heaven forbid that
they should see us recreant.
At least, Sir, let the star of Massachusetts be the last which shall be
seen to fall from heaven, and to plunge into the utter darkness of
disunion. Let her shrink back, let her hold others back if she can, at
any rate, let her keep herself back, from this gulf, full at once of
fire and of blackness; yes, Sir, as far as human foresight can scan, or
human imagination fathom, full of the fire and the blood of civil war,
and of the thick darkness of general political disgrace, ignominy, and
rain. Though the worst may happen that can happen, and though she may
not be able to prevent the catastrophe, yet let her maintain her own
integrity, her own high honor, her own unwavering fidelity, so that with
respect and decency, though with a broken and a bleeding heart, she may
pay the last tribute to a glorious, departed, free Constitution.
FOOTNOTES
[96] A Speech delivered at the National Republican Convention held at
Worcester, Mass., on the 12th of October, 1832, preparatory to
the Annual Elections.
[97] See page 269, _infra_.
[98] Hon. Nathaniel Silsbee, President of the Convention, was Mr.
Webster's colleague in the Senate at the time referred to.
[99] A Speech delivered at a Public Dinner in Honor of the Centennial
Birthday of Washington, on the 22d of February, 1832.
[100] Extract of a letter written by John Adams to Nathan Webb, dated
at Worcester, Massachusetts, October 12, 1755.
"Soon after the Reformation, a few people came over into this
New World, for conscience' sake. Perhaps this apparently
trivial incident may transfer the great seat of empire into
America. It looks likely to me; for, if we can remove the
turbulent Gallics, our people, according to the exactest
computations, will, in another century, become more numerous
than England itself. Should this be the case, since we have, I
may say, all the naval stores of the nation in our hands, it
will be easy to obtain a mastery of the seas; and then the
united force of all Europe will not be able to subdue us. The
only way to keep us from setting up for ourselves is to
disunite us."
RECEPTION AT BUFFALO.[101]
In the summer of 1833, Mr. Webster made a visit to the State of
Ohio. On his way thither, while at Buffalo, New York, he was invited
by the citizens of that place to attend a public dinner, which his
engagements, and the necessity of an early departure, compelled him
to decline. He accepted, however, an invitation to be present at the
launching of a steamboat, to which the proprietors had given the
name of DANIEL WEBSTER, and, in reply to an address from one of
them, made the following remarks:--
I avail myself gladly of this opportunity of making my acknowledgments
to the proprietors of this vessel, for the honor conferred upon me by
allowing her to bear my name. Such a token of regard, had it proceeded
from my immediate friends and neighbors, could not but have excited
feelings of gratitude. It is more calculated to awaken these sentiments,
when coming from gentlemen of character and worth with whom I have not
had the pleasure of personal acquaintance, and whose motive, I may
flatter myself, is to be found in an indulgent opinion towards
well-intentioned services in a public situation.
It gives me great pleasure, also, on the occasion of so large an
assembly of the people of Buffalo, to express to them my thanks for the
kindness and hospitality with which I have been received in this young,
but growing and interesting city. The launching of another vessel on
these inland seas is but a fresh occasion of congratulation on the rapid
growth, the great active prosperity, and the animating prospects of this
city. Eight years ago, fellow-citizens, I enjoyed the pleasure of a
short visit to this place. There was then but one steamboat on Lake
Erie; it made its passage once in ten or fifteen days only; and I
remember that persons in my own vicinity, intending to travel to the Far
West by that conveyance, wrote to their friends here to learn the day of
the commencement of the contemplated voyage. I understand that there are
now eighteen steamboats plying on the lake, all finding full employment;
and that a boat leaves Buffalo twice every day for Detroit and the ports
in Ohio. The population of Buffalo, now four times as large as it was
then, has kept pace with the augmentation of its commercial business.
This rapid progress is an indication, in a single instance, of what is
likely to be the rate of the future progress of the city. So many
circumstances incline to favor its advancement, that it is difficult to
estimate the rate by which it may hereafter proceed. It will probably
not be long before the products of the fisheries of the East, the
importations of the Atlantic frontier, the productions, mineral and
vegetable, of all the Northwestern States, and the sugars of Louisiana,
will find their way hither by inland water communication. Much of this,
indeed, has already taken place, and is of daily occurrence. Many, who
remember the competition between Buffalo and Black Rock for the site of
the city, will doubtless live to see the city spread over both. This
singular prosperity, fellow-citizens, so gratifying for the present, and
accompanied with such high hopes for the future, is due to your own
industry and enterprise, to your favored position, and to the
flourishing condition of the internal commerce of the country; and the
blessings and the riches of that internal commerce, be it ever
remembered, are the fruits of a united government, and one general,
common commercial system.
It is not only the trade of New York, of Ohio, of New England, of
Indiana, or of Michigan, but it is a part of the great aggregate of the
trade of all the States, in which you so largely and so successfully
partake. Who does not see that the advantages here enjoyed spring from a
general government and a uniform code? Who does not see, that, if these
States had remained severed, and each had existed with a system of
imposts and commercial regulations of its own, all excluding and
repelling, rather than inviting, the intercourse of the rest, the place
could hardly have hoped to be more than a respectable frontier post? Or
can any man look to the one and to the other side of this beautiful
lake and river, and not see, in their different conditions, the plain
and manifest results of different political institutions and commercial
regulations?
It would be pleasant, fellow-citizens, to dwell on these topics, so
worthy at all times of regard and reflection; and especially so fit to
engage attention at the present moment. But this is not the proper
moment to pursue them; and, tendering to you once more my thanks and
good wishes, I take my leave of you by expressing my hope for the
continued success of that great interest, so essential to your
happiness,--THE COMMERCE OF THE LAKES, A NEW-DISCOVERED SOURCE OF
NATIONAL PROSPERITY, AND A NEW BOND OF NATIONAL UNION.
An address was also made to Mr. Webster in behalf of the mechanics
and manufacturers of Buffalo, to which he returned the following
reply:--
I need hardly say, Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen, that it gives me much
satisfaction to receive this mark of approbation of my public conduct
from the manufacturers and mechanics of Buffalo. Those who are the most
immediately affected by the measures of the government are naturally the
earliest to perceive their operation, and to foresee their final
results. Allow me to say, Gentlemen, that the confidence expressed by
you in my continuance in the general course which I have pursued must
rest, and may rest safely, I trust, on the history of the past. Desiring
always to avoid extremes, and to observe a prudent moderation in regard
to the protective system, I yet hold steadiness and perseverance, in
maintaining what has been established, to be essential to the public
prosperity. Nothing can be worse than that laws concerning the daily
labor and the daily bread of whole classes of the people should be
subject to frequent and violent changes. It were far better not to move
at all than to move forward and then fall back again.
My sentiments, Gentlemen, on the tariff question, are generally
known. In my opinion, a just and a leading object in the whole system is
the encouragement and protection of American manual labor. I confess,
that every day's experience convinces me more and more of the high
propriety of regarding this object. Our government is made for all,
not for a few. Its object is to promote the greatest good of the whole;
and this ought to be kept constantly in view in its administration.
The far greater number of those who maintain the government belong
to what may be called the industrious or productive classes of the
community. With us labor is not depressed, ignorant, and unintelligent.
On the contrary, it is active, spirited, enterprising, seeking its own
rewards, and laying up for its own competence and its own support. The
motive to labor is the great stimulus to our whole society; and no
system is wise or just which does not afford this stimulus, as far as
it may. The protection of American labor against the injurious
competition of foreign labor, so far, at least, as respects general
handicraft productions, is known historically to have been one end
designed to be obtained by establishing the Constitution; and this
object, and the constitutional power to accomplish it, ought never in
any degree to be surrendered or compromised.
Our political institutions, Gentlemen, place power in the hands of all
the people; and to make the exercise of this power, in such hands,
salutary, it is indispensable that all the people should enjoy, first,
the means of education, and, second, the reasonable certainty of
procuring a competent livelihood by industry and labor. These
institutions are neither designed for, nor suited to, a nation of
ignorant paupers. To disseminate knowledge, then, universally, and to
secure to labor and industry their just rewards, is the duty both of the
general and the State governments, each in the exercise of its
appropriate powers. To be free, the people must be intelligently free;
to be substantially independent, they must be able to secure themselves
against want, by sobriety and industry; to be safe depositaries of
political power, they must be able to comprehend and understand the
general interests of the community, and must themselves have a stake in
the welfare of that community. The interest of labor, therefore, has an
importance, in our system, beyond what belongs to it as a mere question
of political economy. It is connected with our forms of government, and
our whole social system. The activity and prosperity which at present
prevail among us, as every one must notice, are produced by the
excitement of compensating prices to labor; and it is fervently to be
hoped that no unpropitious circumstances and no unwise policy may
counteract this efficient cause of general competency and public
happiness.
I pray you, Mr. Chairman and Gentlemen, to receive personally my thanks
for the manner in which you have communicated to me the sentiments of
the meeting which you represent.
FOOTNOTES
[101] Remarks made to the Citizens of Buffalo, June, 1833.
RECEPTION AT PITTSBURG.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
Mr. Webster arrived at Pittsburg on the evening of the 4th of July
accompanied by a numerous cavalcade of citizens. He was immediately
waited on by a committee, with the following letter:--
"TO THE HON. DANIEL WEBSTER.
"_Pittsburg, July 4, 1833._
"SIR,--At a meeting of the citizens of Pittsburg, the undersigned were
appointed a committee to convey to you a cordial welcome, and an
assurance of the exalted sense which is entertained of your character
and public services.
"The feeling is one which pervades our whole community, scorning any
narrower discrimination than that of lovers of our sacred Union, and
admirers of the highest moral and intellectual qualities, steadily and
triumphantly devoted to the noblest purposes.
"The resolutions under which the committee act indicate no particular
form of tribute, but contain only an earnest injunction to seek the best
mode by which to manifest the universal recognition of your claim to the
admiration and gratitude of every American citizen. It will be deeply
mortifying to us, if our execution of this trust shall fail adequately
to represent the enthusiastic feeling in which it had its origin.
"The committee will have the honor of waiting on you in person, at such
an hour as you may please to designate, with a view to ascertain how
they can best fulfil the purposes of their appointment. It will be very
gratifying if your convenience will permit you to partake of a public
dinner at any period during your stay.
"We have the honor to be, with the highest respect, &c.
JAMES ROSS,
BENJAMIN BAKEWELL,
CHARLES AVERY,
WILLIAM WADE,
SAMUEL PETTIGREW,
GEORGE MILTENBERGER,
ISAAC LIGHTNER,
SYLVANUS LATHROP,
JOHN ARTHURS,
ALEX. BRACKENRIDGE,
WILLIAM ROBINSON, JUN.
GEORGE A. COOK,
W. W. FETTERMAN,
SAMUEL ROSEBURGH,
WILLIAM MACKEY,
JAMES JOHNSTON,
RICHARD BIDDLE,
SAMUEL P. DARLINGTON,
MICHAEL TIERNAN,
SAMUEL FAHNESTOCK,
THOMAS BAKEWELL,
WALTER H. LOWRIE,
WILLIAM W. IRWIN,
ROBERT S. CASSAT,
CORNELIUS DARRAGH,
BENJAMIN DARLINGTON,
NEVILLE B. CRAIG,
WILSON McCANDLES,
OWEN ASHTON,
CHARLES SHALER,
THOMAS SCOTT,
CHARLES H. ISRAEL."
To this letter Mr. Webster returned the following reply:--
"_Pittsburg, July 5, 1833._
"GENTLEMEN,--I hardly know how to express my thanks for the hospitable
and cordial welcome with which the citizens of Pittsburg are disposed to
receive me on this my first visit to their city. The terms in which you
express their sentiments, in your letter of yesterday, far transcend all
merits of mine, and can have their origin only in spontaneous kindness
and good feeling. I tender to you, Gentlemen, and to the meeting which
you represent, my warmest acknowledgments. I rejoice sincerely to find
the health of the city so satisfactory; and I reciprocate with all the
people of Pittsburg the most sincere and hearty good wishes for their
prosperity and happiness. Long may it continue what it now is, an abode
of comfort and hospitality, a refuge for the well-deserving from all
nations, a model of industry, and an honor to the country.
"It is my purpose, Gentlemen, to stay a day or two among you, to see
such of your manufactories and public institutions as it may be in my
power to visit. I most respectfully pray leave to decline a public
dinner, but shall have great pleasure in meeting such of your
fellow-citizens as may desire it, in the most friendly and unceremonious
manner.
"I am, Gentlemen, with very true regard, yours,
"DANIEL WEBSTER.
"To HON. JAMES ROSS and others, Gentlemen of the Committee."
In deference to Mr. Webster's wishes, the idea of a formal dinner
was abandoned; but, as there was a general desire for some
collective expression of public esteem, it was determined to invite
him to meet the citizens in a spacious grove, at four o'clock on the
afternoon of the 8th. Refreshments of a plain kind were spread
around, under the charge of the committee; but the tables could
serve only as a nucleus to the multitude. His Honor the Mayor called
the company to order, and addressed them as follows:--
"I have to ask, Gentlemen, your attention for a few moments.
"We are met here to mark our sense of the extraordinary merits of a
distinguished statesman and public benefactor. At his particular
request, every thing like parade or ceremonial has been waived; and, in
consequence, he has been the better enabled to receive, and to
reciprocate, the hearty and spontaneous expression of your good-will. I
am now desired to attempt, in your name, to give utterance to the
universal feeling around me.
"Gentlemen, we are this day citizens of the _United_ States. The Union
is safe. Not a star has fallen from that proud banner around which our
affections have so long rallied. And when, with this delightful
assurance, we cast our eyes back upon the eventful history of the last
year,--when we recall the gloomy apprehensions, and perhaps hopeless
despondency, which came over us,--who, Gentlemen, can learn, without a
glow of enthusiasm, that the great champion of the Constitution, that
DANIEL WEBSTER, is now in the midst of us. To his mighty intellect, the
nation, with one voice, confided its cause,--of life or death. Shall
there be withheld from the triumphant advocate of the nation a nation's
gratitude? Ours, Gentlemen, is a government not of force, but of
opinion. The reason of the people must be satisfied before a call to
arms. The mass of our peaceful and conscientious citizens cannot, and
ought not, except in a clear case, to be urged to abandon the implements
of industry for the sword and the bayonet. This consideration it is that
imparts to intellectual preëminence in the service of truth its
incalculable value. And hence the preciousness of that admirable and
unanswerable exposition, which has put down, once and for ever, the
artful sophisms of nullification.
"If, Gentlemen, we turn to other portions of the public history of our
distinguished guest, it will be found that his claims to grateful
acknowledgment are not less imposing. The cause of domestic industry, of
internal improvement, of education, of whatever, in short, is calculated
to render us a prosperous, united, and happy people, has found in him a
watchful and efficient advocate. Nor is it the least of his merits, that
to our gallant _Navy_ Mr. Webster has been an early, far-sighted, and
persevering friend. Our interior position cannot render us cold and
unobservant on this point, whilst the victory of Perry yet supplies to
us a proud and inspiring anniversary. And such is the wonderful chain of
mutual dependence which binds our Union, that, in the remotest corner of
the West, the exchangeable value of every product must depend on the
security with which the ocean can be traversed.
"Gentlemen, I have detained you too long; yet I will add one word. I do
but echo the language of the throngs that have crowded round Mr. Webster
in declaring, that the frank and manly simplicity of his character and
manners has created a feeling of personal regard which no mere
intellectual ascendency could have secured. We approached him with
admiration for the achievements of his public career, never supposing
for a moment that our hearts could have aught to do in the matter; we
shall part as from a valued friend, the recollection of whose virtues
cannot pass away."
MR. WEBSTER then addressed the assembly as follows:
RECEPTION AT PITTSBURG.[102]
Mr. Mayor and Gentlemen:--I rise, fellow-citizens, with unaffected
sensibility, to give you my thanks for the hospitable manner in which
you have been kind enough to receive me, on this my first visit to
Pittsburg, and to make all due acknowledgments to your worthy Mayor, for
the sentiments which he has now seen fit to express.
Although, Gentlemen, it has been my fortune to be personally acquainted
with very few of you, I feel, at this moment, that we are not strangers.
We are fellow-countrymen, fellow-citizens, bound together by a thousand
ties of interest, of sympathy, of duty; united, I hope I may add, by
bonds of mutual regard. We are bound together, for good or for evil, in
our great political interests. I know that I am addressing Americans,
every one of whom has a true American heart in his bosom; and I feel
that I have also an American heart in my bosom. I address you, then,
Gentlemen, with the same fervent good wishes for your happiness, the
same brotherly affection, and the same feelings of regard and esteem, as
if, instead of being upon the borders of the Ohio, I stood by the
Connecticut or the Merrimack. As citizens, countrymen, and neighbors, I
give you my hearty good wishes, and thank you, over and over again, for
your abundant hospitality.
Gentlemen, the Mayor has been pleased to advert, in terms beyond all
expectation or merit of my own, to my services in defence of the
glorious Constitution under which we live, and which makes you and me
all that we are, and all that we desire to be. He has done much more
than justice to my efforts; but he has not overstated the importance of
the occasion on which those efforts were made.
Gentlemen, it is but a few short months since dark and portentous clouds
_did_ hang over our heavens, and _did_ shut out, as it were, the sun in
his glory. A new and perilous crisis was upon us. Dangers, novel in
their character, and fearful in their aspect, menaced both the peace of
the country and the integrity of the Constitution. For forty years our
government had gone on, I need hardly say how prosperously and
gloriously, meeting, it is true, with occasional dissatisfaction, and,
in one or two instances, with ill-concerted resistance to law. Through
all these trials it had successfully passed. But now a time had come
when the authority of law was opposed by authority of law, when the
power of the general government was resisted by the arms of State
government, and when organized military force, under all the sanctions
of State conventions and State laws, was ready to resist the collection
of the public revenues, and hurl defiance at the statutes of Congress.
'Gentlemen, this was an alarming moment. In common with all good
citizens, I felt it to be such. A general anxiety pervaded the breasts
of all who were, at home, partaking in the prosperity, honor, and
happiness which the country had enjoyed. And how was it abroad? Why,
Gentlemen, every intelligent friend of human liberty, throughout the
world, looked with amazement at the spectacle which we exhibited. In a
day of unparalleled prosperity, after a half-century's most happy
experience of the blessings of our Union; when we had already become the
wonder of all the liberal part of the world, and the envy of the
illiberal; when the Constitution had so amply falsified the predictions
of its enemies, and more than fulfilled all the hopes of its friends; in
a time of peace, with an overflowing treasury; when both the population
and the improvement of the country had outrun the most sanguine
anticipations;--it was at this moment that we showed ourselves to the
whole civilized world as being apparently on the eve of disunion and
anarchy, at the very point of dissolving, once and for ever, that Union
which had made us so prosperous and so great. It was at this moment that
those appeared among us who seemed ready to break up the national
Constitution, and to scatter the twenty-four States into twenty-four
unconnected communities.
Gentlemen, the President of the United States was, as it seemed to me,
at this eventful crisis, true to his duty. He comprehended and
understood the case, and met it as it was proper to meet it. While I am
as willing as others to admit that the President has, on other
occasions, rendered important services to the country, and especially on
that occasion which has given him so much military renown, I yet think
the ability and decision with which he rejected the disorganizing
doctrines of nullification create a claim, than which he has none
higher, to the gratitude of the country and the respect of posterity.
The appearance of the proclamation of the 10th of December inspired me,
I confess, with new hopes for the duration of the republic. I regarded
it as just, patriotic, able, and imperiously demanded by the condition
of the country. I would not be understood to speak of particular clauses
and phrases in the proclamation; but I regard its great and leading
doctrines as the true and only true doctrines of the Constitution. They
constitute the sole ground on which dismemberment can be resisted.
Nothing else, in my opinion, can hold us together. While these opinions
are maintained, the Union will last; when they shall be generally
rejected and abandoned, that Union will be at the mercy of a temporary
majority in any one of the States.
I speak, Gentlemen, on this subject, without reserve. I have not
intended heretofore, and elsewhere, and do not now intend here, to stint
my commendation of the conduct of the President in regard to the
proclamation and the subsequent measures. I have differed with the
President, as all know, who know any thing of so humble an individual as
myself, on many questions of great general interest and importance. I
differ with him in respect to the constitutional power of internal
improvements; I differ with him in respect to the rechartering of the
Bank, and I dissent, especially, from the grounds and reasons on which
he refused his assent to the bill passed by Congress for that purpose. I
differ with him, also, probably, in the degree of protection which ought
to be afforded to our agriculture and manufactures, and in the manner in
which it may be proper to dispose of the public lands. But all these
differences afforded, in my judgment, not the slightest reason for
opposing him in a measure of paramount importance, and at a moment of
great public exigency. I sought to take counsel of nothing but
patriotism, to feel no impulse but that of duty, and to yield not a
lame and hesitating, but a vigorous and cordial, support to measures
which, in my conscience, I believed essential to the preservation of the
Constitution. It is true, doubtless, that if myself and others had
surrendered ourselves to a spirit of opposition, we might have
embarrassed, and probably defeated, the measures of the administration.
But in so doing, we should, in my opinion, have been false to our own
characters, false to our duty, and false to our country. It gives me the
highest satisfaction to know, that, in regard to this subject, the
general voice of the country does not disapprove my conduct.
I ought to add, Gentlemen, that, in whatever I may have done or
attempted in this respect, I only share a common merit. A vast majority
of both houses of Congress cordially concurred in the measures. Your own
great State was seen in her just position on that occasion, and your own
immediate representatives were found among the most zealous and
efficient friends of the Union.
Gentlemen, I hope that the result of that experiment may prove
salutary in its consequences to our government, and to the interests
of the community. I hope that the signal and decisive manifestation of
public opinion, which has, for the time at least, put down the
despotism of nullification, may produce permanent good effects. I know
full well that popular topics may be urged against the proclamation.
I know it may be said, in regard to the laws of the last session,
that, if such laws are to be maintained, Congress may pass what laws
they please, and enforce them. But may it not be said, on the other
side, that, if a State may nullify one law, she may nullify any other
law also, and, therefore, that the _principle_ strikes at the whole
power of Congress? And when it is said, that, if the power of State
interposition be denied, Congress may pass and enforce what laws it
pleases, is it meant to be contended or insisted, that the Constitution
has placed Congress under the guardianship and control of the State
legislatures? Those who argue against the power of Congress, from the
possibility of its abuse, entirely forget that, if the power of
State interposition be allowed, that power may be abused also. What is
more material, they forget the will of the people, as they have plainly
expressed it in the Constitution. They forget that _the people have
chosen_ to give Congress a power of legislation, independent of State
control. They forget that the Confederation has ceased, and that a
_Constitution_, a _government_, has taken its place. They forget that
this government is a popular government, that members of Congress are
but agents and servants of the people, chosen for short periods,
periodically removable by the people, as much subservient, as much
dependent, as willingly obedient, as any other of their agents and
servants. This dependence on the people is the security that they will
not act wrong. This is the security which the people themselves have
chosen to rely on, in addition to the guards contained in the
Constitution itself.
I am quite aware, Gentlemen, that it is easy for those who oppose
measures deemed necessary for the execution of the laws, to raise the
cry of _consolidation_. It is easy to make charges, and to bring general
accusations. It is easy to call names. For one, I repel all such
imputations. I am no _consolidationist_. I disclaim the character
altogether, and, instead of repeating this general and vague charge, I
will be obliged to any one to show how the proclamation, or the late law
of Congress, or, indeed, any measure to which I ever gave my support,
tends, in the slightest degree, to consolidation. By consolidation is
understood a grasping at power, on behalf of the general government, not
constitutionally conferred. But the proclamation asserted no new power.
It only asserted the right in the government to carry into effect, in
the form of law, power which it had exercised for forty years. I should
oppose any grasping at new powers by Congress, as zealously as the most
zealous. I wish to preserve the Constitution as it is, without addition,
and without diminution, by one jot or tittle. For the same reason that I
would not grasp at powers not given, I would not surrender nor abandon
powers which are given. Those who have placed me in a public station
placed me there, not to alter the Constitution, but to administer it.
The power of change the people have retained to themselves. _They_ can
alter, they can modify, they can change the Constitution entirely, if
they see fit. _They_ can tread it under foot, and make another, or make
no other; but while it remains unaltered by the authority of the people,
it is our power of attorney, our letter of credit, our credentials; and
we are to follow it, and obey its injunctions, and maintain its just
powers, to the best of our abilities. I repeat, that, for one, I seek
to preserve to the Constitution those precise powers with which the
people have clothed it. While no encroachment is to be made on the
reserved rights of the people or of the States, while nothing is to be
usurped, it is equally clear that we are not at liberty to surrender,
either in fact or form, any power or principle which the Constitution
does actually contain.
And what is the ground for this cry of consolidation? I maintain that
the measures recommended by the President, and adopted by Congress, were
measures of self-defence. Is it consolidation to execute laws? Is it
consolidation to resist the force that is threatening to upturn our
government? Is it consolidation to protect officers, in the discharge of
their duty, from courts and juries previously sworn to decide against
them?
Gentlemen, I take occasion to remark, that, after much reflection upon
the subject, and after all that has been said about the encroachment of
the general government upon the rights of the States, I know of no one
power, exercised by the general government, which was not, when that
instrument was adopted, admitted by the immediate friends and foes of
the Constitution to have been conferred upon it by the people. I know of
no one power, now claimed or exercised, which every body did not agree,
in 1789, was conferred on the general government. On the contrary, there
are several powers, and those, too, among the most important for the
interests of the people, which were then universally allowed to be
conferred on Congress by the Constitution of the United States, and
which are now ingeniously doubted, or clamorously denied.
Gentlemen, upon this point I shall detain you with no further remarks.
It does, however, give me the most sincere pleasure to say, that, in a
long visit through the State west of you, and the great State north of
you, as well as in a tour of some days' duration in the respectable
State to which you belong, I find but one sentiment in regard to the
conduct of the government upon this subject. I know that those who have
seen fit to intrust to me, in part, their interests in Congress, approve
of the measures recommended by the President. We see that he has taken
occasion, during the recess of Congress, to visit that part of the
country; and we know how he has been received. Nowhere have hands been
extended with more sincerity of friendship; and for one, Gentlemen, I
take occasion to say, that, having heard of his return to the seat of
government with health rather debilitated, it is among my most earnest
prayers that Providence may spare his life, and that he may go through
his administration and come out of it with as much success and glory as
any of his predecessors.
Your worthy chief magistrate has been kind enough, Gentlemen, to express
sentiments favorable to myself, as a friend of domestic industry.
Domestic industry! How much of national power and opulence, how much of
individual comfort and respectability, that phrase implies! And with
what force does it strike us, as we stand here, at the confluence of the
two rivers whose united currents constitute the Ohio, and in the midst
of one of the most flourishing and distinguished manufacturing cities in
the Union! Many thousand miles of inland navigation, running through a
new and rapidly-improving country, stretch away below us. Internal
communications, completed or in progress, connect the city with the
Atlantic and the Lakes. A hundred steam-engines are in daily operation,
and nature has supplied the fuel which feeds their incessant flames on
the spot itself, in exhaustless abundance. Standing here, Gentlemen, in
the midst of such a population, and with such a scene around us, how
great is the import of these words, "domestic industry"!
Next to the preservation of the government itself, there can hardly be a
more vital question, to such a community as this, than that which
regards their own employments, and the preservation of that policy which
the government has adopted and cherished for the encouragement and
protection of those employments. This is not, in a society like this, a
matter which affects the interest of a particular class, but one which
affects the interest of all classes. It runs through the whole chain of
human occupation and employment, and touches the means of living and the
comfort of all.
Gentlemen, those of you who may have turned your attention to the
subject know, that, in the quarter of the country with which I am more
immediately connected, the people were not early or eager to urge the
government to carry the protective policy to the height which it has
reached. Candor obliges me to remind you, that, when the act of 1824 was
passed, neither he who now addresses you, nor those with whom he
usually acted on such subjects, were ready or willing to take the step
which that act proposed. They doubted its _expediency_. It passed,
however, by the great and overwhelming influence of the central States,
New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio. New England acquiesced in it. She
conformed to it, as the settled policy of the country, and gave to her
capital and her labor a corresponding direction. She has now become
vitally interested in the preservation of the system. Her prosperity is
identified, not perhaps with any particular degree of protection, but
with the preservation of the principle; and she is not likely to consent
to yield the principle, under any circumstances whatever. And who would
dare to yield it? Who, standing here, and looking round on this
community and its interests, would be bold enough to touch the spring
which moves so much industry and produces so much happiness? Who would
shut up the mouths of these vast coal-pits? Who would stay the cargoes
of manufactured goods, now floating down a river, one of the noblest in
the world, and stretching through territories almost boundless in extent
and unequalled in fertility? Who would quench the fires of so many
steam-engines, or check the operations of so much well-employed labor?
Gentlemen, I cannot conceive how any subversion of that policy which has
hitherto been pursued can take place, without great public embarrassment
and great private distress.
I have said, that I am in favor of protecting American manual labor; and
after the best reflection I can give the subject, and from the lights
which I can derive from the experience of ourselves and others, I have
come to the conclusion that such protection is just and proper; and that
to leave American labor to sustain a competition with that of the
over-peopled countries of Europe would lead to a state of things to
which the people could never submit. This is the great reason why I am
for maintaining what has been established. I see at home, I see here, I
see wherever I go, that the stimulus which has excited the existing
activity, and is producing the existing prosperity, of the country, is
nothing else than the stimulus held out to labor by compensating prices.
I think this effect is visible everywhere, from Penobscot to New
Orleans, and manifest in the condition and circumstances of the great
body of the people; for nine tenths of the whole people belong to the
laborious, industrious, and productive classes; and on these classes the
stimulus acts. We perceive that the price of labor is high, and we know
that the means of living are low; and these two truths speak volumes in
favor of the general prosperity of the country. I am aware, as has been
said already, that this high price of labor results partly from the
favorable condition of the country. Labor was high, comparatively
speaking, before the act of 1824 passed; but that fact affords no
reason, in my judgment, for endangering its security and sacrificing its
hopes, by overthrowing what has since been established for its
protection.
Let us look, Gentlemen, to the condition of other countries, and inquire
a little into the causes, which, in some of them, produce poverty and
distress, the lamentations of which reach our own shores. I see around
me many whom I know to be emigrants from other countries. Why are they
here? Why is the native of Ireland among us? Why has he abandoned scenes
as dear to him as these hills and these rivers are to you? Is there any
other cause than this, that the burden of taxation on the one hand, and
the low reward of labor on the other, left him without the means of a
comfortable subsistence, or the power of providing for those who were
dependent upon him? Was it not on this account that he left his own
land, and sought an asylum in a country of free laws, of comparative
exemption from taxation, of boundless extent, and in which the means of
living are cheap, and the prices of labor just and adequate? And do not
these remarks apply, with more or less accuracy, to every other part of
Europe? Is it not true, that sobriety, and industry, and good character,
can do more for a man here than in any other part of the world? And is
not this truth, which is so obvious that none can deny it, founded in
this plain reason, that labor in this country earns a better reward than
anywhere else, and so gives more comfort, more individual independence,
and more elevation of character? Whatever else may benefit particular
portions of society, whatever else may assist capital, whatever else may
favor sharp-sighted commercial enterprise, professional skill, or
extraordinary individual sagacity or good fortune, be assured,
Gentlemen, that nothing can advance the mass of society in prosperity
and happiness, nothing can uphold the substantial interest and steadily
improve the general condition and character of the whole, but this one
thing, _compensating rewards to labor_. The fortunate situation of our
country tends strongly, of itself, to produce this result; the
government has adopted the policy of coöperating with this natural
tendency of things; it has encouraged and fostered labor and industry,
by a system of discriminating duties; and the result of these combined
causes may be seen in the present circumstances of the country.
Gentlemen, there are important considerations of another kind connected
with this subject. Our government is popular; popular in its foundation,
and popular in its exercise. The actual character of the government can
never be better than the general moral and intellectual character of the
community. It would be the wildest of human imaginations, to expect a
poor, vicious, and ignorant people to maintain a good popular
government. Education and knowledge, which, as is obvious, can be
generally attained by the people only where there are adequate rewards
to labor and industry, and some share in the public interest, some stake
in the community, would seem indispensably necessary in those who have
the power of appointing all public agents, passing all laws, and even of
making and unmaking constitutions at their pleasure. Hence the truth of
the trite maxim, that knowledge and virtue are the only foundation of
republics. But it is to be added, and to be always remembered, that
there never was, and never can be, an intelligent and virtuous people
who at the same time are a poor and idle people, badly employed and
badly paid. Who would be safe in any community, where political power is
in the hands of the many and property in the hands of the few? Indeed,
such an unnatural state of things could nowhere long exist.
It certainly appears to me, Gentlemen, to be quite evident at this time,
and in the present condition of the world, that it is necessary to
protect the industry of this country against the pauper labor of England
and other parts of Europe. An American citizen, who has children to
maintain and children to _educate_, has an unequal chance against the
pauper of England, whose children are not to be educated, and are
probably already on the parish, and who himself is half fed and clothed
by his own labor, and half from the poor-rates, and very badly fed and
clothed after all. As I have already said, the condition of our country
of itself, without the aid of government, does much to favor American
manual labor; and it is a question of policy and justice, at all times,
what and how much government shall do in aid of natural advantages. In
regard to some branches of industry, the natural advantages are less
considerable than in regard to others; and those, therefore, more
imperiously demand the regard of government. Such are the occupations,
generally speaking, of the numerous classes of citizens in cities and
large towns; the workers in leather, brass, tin, iron, &c.; and such,
too, under most circumstances, are the employments connected with
ship-building.
Our own experience has been a powerful, and ought to be a convincing and
long-remembered, preacher on this point. From the close of the war of
the Revolution, there came on a period of depression and distress, on
the Atlantic coast, such as the people had hardly felt during the
sharpest crisis of the war itself. Ship-owners, ship-builders,
mechanics, artisans, all were destitute of employment, and some of them
destitute of bread. British ships came freely, and British goods came
plentifully; while to American ships and American products there was
neither protection on the one side, nor the equivalent of reciprocal
free trade on the other. The cheaper labor of England supplied the
inhabitants of the Atlantic shores with every thing. Ready-made clothes,
among the rest, from the crown of the head to the soles of the feet,
were for sale in every city. All these things came free from any general
system of imposts. Some of the States attempted to establish their own
partial systems, but they failed. Voluntary association was resorted to,
but that failed also. A memorable instance of this mode of attempting
protection occurred in Boston. The ship-owners, seeing that British
vessels came and went freely, while their own ships were rotting at the
wharves, raised a committee to address the people, recommending to them,
in the strongest manner, not to buy or use any articles imported in
British ships. The chairman of this committee was no less distinguished
a character than the immortal John Hancock. The committee performed its
duty powerfully and eloquently. It set forth strong and persuasive
reasons why the people should not buy or use British goods imported in
British ships. The ship-owners and merchants having thus proceeded, the
mechanics of Boston took up the subject also. They answered the
merchants' committee. They agreed with them cordially, that British
goods, imported in British vessels, ought not to be bought or consumed;
but then they took the liberty of going a step farther, and of insisting
_that such goods ought not to be bought or consumed at all_. (Great
applause.) "For," said they, "Mr. Hancock, what difference does it make
to us, whether hats, shoes, boots, shirts, handkerchiefs, tin-ware,
brass-ware, cutlery, and every other article, come in British ships or
come in your ships; since, in whatever ships they come, they take away
our means of living?"
Gentlemen, it is an historical truth, manifested in a thousand ways by
the public proceedings and public meetings of the times, that the
necessity of a general and uniform impost system, which, while it should
provide revenue to pay the public debt, and foster the commerce of the
country, should also encourage and sustain domestic manufactures, was
the leading cause in producing the present national Constitution. No
class of persons was more zealous for the new Constitution, than the
handicraftsmen, artisans, and manufacturers. There were then, it is
true, no large manufacturing establishments. There were no manufactories
in the interior, for there were no inhabitants. Here was Fort Pitt,--it
had a place on the map,--but here were no people, or only a very few.
But in the cities and towns on the Atlantic, the full importance, indeed
the absolute necessity, of a new form of government and a general system
of imposts was deeply felt.
It so happened, Gentlemen, that at that time much was thought to depend
on Massachusetts; several States had already agreed to the Constitution;
if her convention adopted it, it was likely to go into operation. This
gave to the proceedings of that convention an intense interest, and the
country looked with trembling anxiety for the result. That result was
for a long time doubtful. The convention was known to be almost equally
divided; and down to the very day and hour of the final vote, no one
could predict, with any certainty, which side would preponderate. It was
under these circumstances, and at this crisis, that the tradesmen of the
town of Boston, in January, 1788, assembled at the Green Dragon tavern,
the place where the Whigs of the Revolution, in its early stages, had
been accustomed to assemble. They resolved, that, in their opinion, if
the Constitution should be adopted, "trade and navigation would revive
and increase, and employ and subsistence be afforded to many of their
townsmen, then suffering for the want of the necessaries of life"; and
that, on the other hand, should it be rejected, "the small remains of
commerce yet left would be annihilated; the various trades and
handicrafts dependent thereon decay; the poor be increased, and many
worthy and skilful mechanics compelled to seek employ and subsistence in
strange lands." These resolutions were carried to the Boston delegates
in the convention, and placed in the hands of Samuel Adams. That great
and distinguished friend of American liberty, it was feared, might have
doubts about the new Constitution. Naturally cautious and sagacious, it
was apprehended he might fear the practicability, or the safety, of a
general government. He received the resolutions from the hands of Paul
Revere, a brass-founder by occupation, a man of sense and character, and
of high public spirit, whom the mechanics of Boston ought never to
forget. "How many mechanics," said Mr. Adams, "were at the Green Dragon
when these resolutions were passed?" "More, Sir," was the reply, "than
the Green Dragon could hold." "And where were the rest, Mr. Revere?" "In
the streets, Sir." "And how many were in the streets?" "More, Sir, than
there are stars in the sky." This is an instance only, among many, to
prove, what is indisputably true, that the tradesmen and mechanics of
the country did look to the new Constitution for encouragement and
protection in their respective occupations. Under these circumstances,
it is not to be expected that they will abandon the principle, in its
application to their own employments, any more than in its application
to the commercial and shipping interests. They believe the power is in
the Constitution; and doubtless they mean, so far as depends on them, to
keep it there. Desirous of no extravagant measure of protection,
desirous of oppressing or burdening nobody, seeking nothing as a
substitute for honest industry and hard work, as a part of the American
family, having the same interests as other parts, they will continue
their attachment to the Union and the Constitution, and to all the great
and leading interests of the country.
Gentlemen, your worthy Mayor has alluded to the subject of internal
improvements. Having no doubt of the power of the general government
over various objects comprehended under that name, I confess I have
felt great pleasure in forwarding them, to the extent of my ability, by
means of reasonable aid from the government. It has seemed strange to
me, that, in the progress of human knowledge and human virtue (for I
have no doubt that both are making progress), the efforts of government
should so long have been principally confined to external affairs, and
to the enactment of the general laws, without considering how much may
be done by government, which cannot be done without it, for the
improvement of the condition of the people. There are many objects, of
great value to man, which cannot be attained by unconnected individuals,
but must be attained, if at all, by association. For many of them
government seems the most natural and the most efficient association.
Voluntary association has done much, but it cannot do all. To the great
honor and advantage of your own State, she has been forward in applying
the agency of government to great objects of internal utility. But even
States cannot do every thing. There are some things which belong to all
the States; and, if done at all, must be done by all the States. At the
conclusion of the late war, it appeared to me that the time had come for
the government to turn its attention inward; to survey the condition of
the country, and particularly the vast Western country; to take a
comprehensive view of the whole; and to adopt a liberal system of
internal improvements. There are objects not naturally within the sphere
of any one State, which yet seemed of great importance, as calculated to
unite the different parts of the country, to open a better and shorter
way between the producer and consumer, to promise the highest advantage
to government itself, in any exigency. It is true, Gentlemen, that the
local theatre for such improvement is not mainly in the East. The East
is old, pretty fully peopled, and small. The West is new, vast, and
thinly peopled. Our rivers can be measured; yours cannot. We are
bounded; you are boundless. The West was, therefore, most deeply
interested in this system, though certainly not alone interested, even
in such works as had a Western locality. To clear her rivers was to open
them for the commerce of the whole country; to construct harbors, and
clear entrances to existing harbors, whether on the Gulf of Mexico or on
the Lakes, was for the advantage of that whole commerce. And if this
were not so, he is but a poor public man whose patriotism is governed
by the cardinal points; who is for or against a proposed measure,
according to its indication by compass, or as it may happen to tend
farther from, or come nearer to, his own immediate connections. And look
at the West; look at these rivers; look at the Lakes; look especially at
Lake Erie, and see what a moderate expenditure has done for the safety
of human life, and the preservation of property, in the navigation of
that lake; and done, let me add, in the face of a fixed and ardent
opposition.
I rejoice, sincerely, Gentlemen, in the general progress of internal
improvement, and in the completion of so many objects near you, and
connected with your prosperity. Your own canal and railroad unite you
with the Atlantic. Near you is the Ohio Canal, which does so much credit
to a younger State, and with which your city will doubtless one day have
a direct connection. On the south and east approaches the Baltimore and
Ohio Railroad, a great and spirited enterprise, which I always thought
entitled to the aid of government, and a branch of which, it may be
hoped, will yet reach the head of the Ohio.
I will only add, Gentlemen, that for what I have done in the cause of
internal improvement I claim no particular merit, having only acted with
others, and discharged, conscientiously and fairly, what I regarded as
my duty to the whole country.
Gentlemen, the Mayor has spoken of the importance and necessity of
education. And can any one doubt, that to man, as a social and an
immortal being, as interested in the world that is, and infinitely more
concerned for that which is to be, education, that is to say, the
culture of the mind and the heart, is an object of infinite importance?
So far as we can trace the designs of Providence, the formation of the
mind and character, by instruction in knowledge, and instruction in
righteousness, is a main end of human being. Among the new impulses
which society has received, none is more gratifying than the awakened
attention to public education. That object begins to exhibit itself to
the minds of men in its just magnitude, and to possess its due share of
regard. It is but in a limited degree, and indirectly only, that the
powers of the general government have been exercised in the promotion of
this object. So far as these powers extend, I have concurred in their
exercise with great pleasure. The Western States, from the recency of
their settlement, from the great proportion of their population which
are children, and from other circumstances which must, in all new
countries, more or less curtail individual means, have appeared to me to
have peculiar claims to regard; and in all cases where I have thought
the power clear, I have most heartily concurred in measures designed for
their benefit, in this respect. And amidst all our efforts for
education, literary, moral, or religious, be it always remembered that
we leave opinion and conscience free. Heaven grant that it may be the
glory of the United States to have established two great truths, of the
highest importance to the whole human race; first, that an enlightened
community _is_ capable of self-government; and, second, that the
toleration of all sects does _not_ necessarily produce indifference to
religion.
But I have already detained you too long. My friends, fellow-citizens,
and countrymen, I take a respectful leave of you. The time I have passed
on this side the Alleghanies has been a succession of happy days. I have
seen much to instruct and much to delight me. I return you, again and
again, my unfeigned thanks for the frankness and hospitality with which
you have made me welcome; and wherever I may go, or wherever I may be, I
pray you to believe I shall not lose the recollection of your kindness.
FOOTNOTES
[102] Address delivered to the Citizens of Pittsburg, on the 8th of
July, 1833.
RECEPTION AT BANGOR.[103]
During a visit to Maine, in the summer of 1835, on business
connected with his profession, Mr. Webster was at Bangor, where he
partook of a collation with many of the citizens of that place.
There were so many more people, however, desirous to see and hear
him than could be accommodated in the hall of the hotel, that, after
the cloth was removed, he was compelled to proceed to the balcony,
where, after thanking the company for their hospitality, and their
manifestation of regard, he addressed the assembly as follows:--
Having occasion to come into the State on professional business, I have
gladly availed myself of the opportunity to visit this city, the growing
magnitude and importance of which have recently attracted such general
notice. I am happy to say, that I see around me ample proofs of the
correctness of the favorable representations which have gone abroad.
Your city, Gentlemen, has certainly experienced an extraordinary growth;
and it is a growth, I think, which there is reason to hope is not
unnatural, or greatly disproportionate to the eminent advantages of the
place. It so happened, that, at an early period of my life, I came to
this spot, attracted by that favorable position, which the slightest
glance on the map must satisfy every one that it occupies. It is near
the head of tide-water, on a river which brings to it from the sea a
volume of water equal to the demands of the largest vessels of war, and
whose branches, uniting here, from great distances above, traverse in
their course extensive tracts now covered with valuable productions of
the forest, and capable, most of them, of profitable agricultural
cultivation. But at the period I speak of, the time had not come for
the proper development and display of these advantages. Neither the
place itself, nor the country, was then ready. A long course of
commercial restrictions and embargo, and a foreign war, were yet to be
gone through, before the local advantages of such a spot could be
exhibited or enjoyed, or the country would be in a condition to create
an active demand for its main products.
I believe some twelve or twenty houses were all that Bangor could
enumerate, when I was in it before; and I remember to have crossed the
stream which now divides your fair city on some floating logs, for the
purpose of visiting a former friend and neighbor, who had just then
settled here; a gentleman always most respectable, and now venerable for
his age and his character, whom I have great pleasure in seeing among
you to-day, in the enjoyment of health and happiness.
It is quite obvious, Gentlemen, that while the local advantages of a
noble river, and of a large surrounding country, may be justly
considered as the original spring of the present prosperity of the city,
the current of this prosperity has, nevertheless, been put in motion,
enlarged, and impelled, by the general progress of improvement, and
growth of wealth throughout the whole country.
At the period of my former visit, there was, of course, neither
railroad, nor steamboat, nor canal, to favor communication; nor do I
recollect that any public or stage coach came within fifty miles of the
town.
Internal improvement (as it is comprehensively called in this country)
has been the great agent of this favorable change; and so blended are
our interests, that the general activity which exists elsewhere,
supported and stimulated by internal improvement, pervades and benefits
even those portions of the country which are locally remote from the
immediate scene of the main operations of this improvement. Whatever
promotes communication, whatsoever extends general business, whatsoever
encourages enterprise, or whatsoever advances the general wealth and
prosperity of other States, must have a plain, direct, and powerful
bearing on your own prosperity. In truth, there is no town in the Union,
whose hopes can be more directly staked on the general prosperity of the
country, than this rising city. If any thing should interrupt the
general operations of business, if commercial embarrassment, foreign
war, pecuniary derangement, domestic dissension, or any other causes,
were to arrest the general progress of the public welfare, all must see
with what a blasting and withering effect such a course must operate on
Bangor.
Gentlemen, I have often taken occasion to say, what circumstances may
render it proper now to repeat, that, at the close of the last war, a
new era, in my judgment, had opened in the United States. A new career
then lay before us. At peace ourselves with the nations of Europe, and
those nations, too, at peace with one another, and the leading civilized
states of the world no longer allowing that carrying trade which had
been the rich harvest of our neutrality in the midst of former wars, but
all now coming forward to exercise their own rights, in sharing the
commerce and navigation of the world, it seemed to me to be very plain,
that, while our commerce was still to be fostered with the most zealous
care, yet quite a new view of things was presented to us in regard to
our internal pursuits and concerns. The works of peace, as it seemed to
me, had become our duties. A hostile exterior, a front of brass, and an
arm of iron, all necessary in the just defence of the country against
foreign aggression, naturally gave place, in a change of circumstances,
to the attitude, the objects, and the pursuits of peace. Our true
interest, as I thought, was to explore our own resources, to call forth
and encourage labor and enterprise upon internal objects, to multiply
the sources of employment and comfort at home, and to unite the country
by ties of intercourse, commerce, benefits, and prosperity, in all
parts, as well as by the ties of political association. And it appeared
to me that government itself clearly possessed the power, and was as
clearly charged with the duty of helping on, in various ways, this great
business of internal improvement. I have, therefore, steadily supported
all measures directed to that end, which appeared to me to be within the
just power of the government, and to be practicable within the limits of
reasonable expenditure. And if any one would judge how far the fostering
of this spirit has been beneficial to the country, let him compare its
state at this moment with its condition at the commencement of the late
war; and let him then say how much of all that has been added to
national wealth and national strength, and to individual prosperity and
happiness, has been the fair result of internal improvement.
Gentlemen, it has been your pleasure to give utterance to sentiments
expressing approbation of my humble efforts, on several occasions, in
defence and maintenance of the Constitution of the country. I have
nothing to say of those efforts, except that they have been honestly
intended. The country sees no reason, I trust, to suppose that on those
occasions I have taken counsel of any thing but a deep sense of duty. I
have, on some occasions, felt myself called on to maintain my opinions,
in opposition to power, to place, to official influence, and to
overwhelming personal popularity. I have thought it my imperative duty
to put forth my most earnest efforts to maintain what I considered to be
the just powers of the government, when it appeared to me that those to
whom its administration was intrusted were countenancing doctrines
inevitably tending to its destruction. And I have, with far more
pleasure, on other occasions, supported the constituted authorities,
when I have deemed their measures to be called for by a regard to its
preservation.
The Constitution of the United States, Gentlemen, has appeared to me to
have been formed and adopted for two grand objects. The first is the
Union of the States. It is the bond of that union, and it states and
defines its terms. Who can speak in terms warm enough and high enough of
its importance in this respect, or the admirable wisdom with which it is
formed? Or who, when he shall have stated the benefits and blessings
which it has conferred upon the States most strongly, will venture to
say that he has done it justice? For one, I am not sanguine enough to
believe that, if this bond of union were dissolved, any other tie
uniting all the States would take its place for generations to come. It
requires no common skill, it is no piece of ordinary political
journey-work, to form a system which shall hold together four-and-twenty
separate State sovereignties, the line of whose united territories runs
down all the parallels of latitude from New Brunswick to the Gulf of
Mexico, and whose connected breadth stretches from the sea far beyond
the Mississippi. Nor are all times or all occasions suited to such great
operations. It is only under the most favorable circumstances, and only
when great men are called on to meet great exigencies, only once in
centuries, that such fortunate political results are to be attained.
Whoever, therefore, undervalues this National Union, whoever depreciates
it, whoever accustoms himself to consider how the people might get on
without it, appears to me to encourage sentiments subversive of the
foundations of our prosperity.
It is true that these twenty-four States are, more or less, different in
climate, productions, and local pursuits. There are planting States,
grain-growing States, manufacturing States, and commercial States.
But those several interests, if not identical, are not therefore
inconsistent and hostile. Far from it. They unite, on the contrary, to
promote an aggregate result of unrivalled national happiness. It is
not precisely a case in which
"All nature's difference keeps all nature's peace";
but it is a case in which variety of climate and condition, and
diversities of pursuits and productions, all unite to exhibit one
harmonious, grand, and magnificent whole, to which the world may be
proudly challenged to show an equal. In my opinion, no man, in any
corner of any one of these States, can stand up and declare, that he is
less prosperous or less happy than if the general government had never
existed. Entertaining these sentiments, and feeling their force most
deeply, I regard it as the bounden duty of every good citizen, in public
and in private life, to follow the admonition of Washington, and to
cherish that Union which makes us one people. I most earnestly
deprecate, therefore, whatever occurs, in the government or out of it,
calculated to endanger the Union or disturb the basis on which it
rests.
Another object of the Constitution I take to be such as is common to all
written constitutions of free governments; that is, to fix limits to
delegated authority, or, in other words, to impose constitutional
restraints on political power. Some, who esteem themselves republicans,
seem to think no other security for public liberty necessary than a
provision for a popular choice of rulers. If political power be
delegated power, they entertain little fear of its being abused. The
people's servants and favorites, they think, may be safely trusted. Our
fathers, certainly, were not of this school. They sought to make
assurance doubly sure, by providing, in the first place, for the
election of political agents by the people themselves, at short
intervals, and, in the next place, by prescribing constitutional
restraints on all branches of this delegated authority. It is not among
the circumstances of the times most ominous for good, that a diminished
estimate appears to be placed on those constitutional securities. A
disposition is but too prevalent to substitute personal confidence for
legal restraint; to put trust in men rather than in principles; and this
disposition being strongest, as it most obviously is, whenever party
spirit prevails to the greatest extent, it is not without reason that
fears are entertained of the existence of a spirit tending strongly to
an unlimited, if it be but an elective, government.
Surely, Gentlemen, this government can go through no such change. Long
before that change could take place, the Constitution would be shattered
to pieces, and the Union of the States become matter of past history. To
the Union, therefore, as well as to civil liberty, to every interest
which we enjoy and value, to all that makes us proud of our country, or
which renders our country lovely in our own eyes, or dear to our own
hearts, nothing can be more repugnant, nothing more hostile, nothing
more directly destructive, than excessive, unlimited, unconstitutional
confidence in men; nothing worse, than the doctrine that official agents
may interpret the public will in their own way, in defiance of the
Constitution and the laws; or that they may set up any thing for the
declaration of that will except the Constitution and the laws
themselves; or that any public officer, high or low, should undertake to
constitute himself or to call himself _the representative of the
people_, except so far as the Constitution and the laws create and
denominate him such representative. There is no usurpation so dangerous
as that which comes in the borrowed name of the people. If from some
other authority, or other source, prerogatives be attempted to be
enforced upon the people, they naturally oppose and resist it. It is an
open enemy, and they can easily subdue it. But that which professes to
act in their own name, and by their own authority, that which calls
itself their servant, although it exercises their power without legal
right or constitutional sanction, requires something more of vigilance
to detect, and something more of stern patriotism to repress; and if it
be not seasonably both detected and repressed, then the republic is
already in the downward path of those which have gone before it.
I hold, therefore, Gentlemen, that a strict submission, by every
branch of the government, to the limitations and restraints of the
Constitution, is of the very essence of all security for the
preservation of liberty; and that no one can be a true and intelligent
friend of that liberty, who will consent that any man in public station,
whatever he may think of the honesty of his motives, shall assume to
exercise an authority above the Constitution and the laws. Whatever
government is not a government of laws, is a despotism, let it be
called what it may.
Gentlemen, on an occasion like this, I ought not to detain you longer.
Let us hope for the best, in behalf of this great and happy country,
and of our glorious Constitution. Indeed, Gentlemen, we may well
congratulate ourselves that the country is so young, so fresh, and so
vigorous, that it can bear a great deal of bad government. It can take
an enormous load of official mismanagement on its shoulders, and yet go
ahead. Like the vessel impelled by steam, it can move forward, not
only without other than the ordinary means, but even when those means
oppose it; it can make its way in defiance of the elements, and
"Against the wind, against the tide,
Still steady, with an upright keel."
There are some things, however, which the country cannot stand. It
cannot stand any shock of civil liberty, or any disruption of the Union.
Should either of these happen, the vessel of the state will have no
longer either steerage or motion. She will lie on the billows helpless
and hopeless, the scorn and contempt of all the enemies of free
institutions, and an object of indescribable grief to all their
friends.
FOOTNOTES
[103] Remarks made to the Citizens of Bangor, Maine, on the 25th of
August, 1835.
PRESENTATION OF A VASE.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
A large number of the citizens of Boston being desirous to offer
to Mr. Webster some enduring testimony of their gratitude for his
services in Congress, and more especially for his defence of the
Constitution during the crisis of Nullification, a committee was
raised, in the spring of 1835, to procure a piece of plate which
should be worthy of such an object. By their direction, and more
particularly under the superintendence of one of their number,
the late Mr. George W. Brimmer, to whose taste and skill the
committee were deeply indebted for the selection of the model and
the arrangement of the devices, the beautiful vase, now well
known throughout the country as the WEBSTER VASE, was prepared
at the manufactory of Messrs. Jones, Lows, & Ball, in Boston.
After it was finished, the committee found it impossible to
withstand the wish, both of the numerous subscribers and of the
public generally, to witness the ceremonies and hear the remarks by
which its presentation might be accompanied. It was accordingly
presented to Mr. Webster in the presence of three or four
thousand spectators, assembled at the Odeon, on the evening of
the 12th of October. The Vase was placed on a pedestal covered with
the American flag, and contained on its front the following
inscription:--
PRESENTED TO
DANIEL WEBSTER
THE DEFENDER OF THE CONSTITUTION,
BY THE CITIZENS OF BOSTON,
Oct. 12, 1835.
The chairman of the committee (Mr. Z. Jellison) opened the meeting
with the following remarks:--
"Fellow-Citizens:--The friends of the Hon. Daniel Webster in this city,
conceiving the propriety of giving that gentleman an expression of the
high estimation in which they hold his public services, and wishing
also to tender him a testimonial of their regard for his moral worth and
social virtues, called a meeting of consultation on the subject, some
months since, at which a committee was appointed, with instructions to
procure a suitable piece of plate, to be presented to him in their
behalf, before his official duty should again require his departure
hence for the seat of government. In obedience to their instructions,
that committee have procured, from the hands of the most skilful artists
in this country, the piece of plate I now have the honor to exhibit to
you.
"They have now called their constituents together, for the purpose of
presenting this Vase in their presence. Had the committee consulted the
wishes only of the gentleman for whom it is intended, this presentation
might, perhaps, have taken place in a more private or less imposing
manner; but, in the course they have adopted, they have been governed by
the wishes of the citizens at large. They now respectfully ask your kind
indulgence while they proceed in the discharge of this part of their
duty.
"The committee have appointed, as their organ of communication, the Hon.
Francis C. Gray, with whom I now have the pleasure to leave the
subject."
Mr. GRAY then rose, and spoke as follows:--
"Mr. Webster:--By direction of the committee, and in behalf of your
fellow-citizens, who have caused this Vase to be made, I now request
your acceptance of it. They offer it in token of their high sense of
your public character and services. But on these it were not becoming to
dwell in addressing yourself. Nor is a regard for these the only, or the
principal, motive of those for whom I speak. They offer it mainly to
evince the high estimation in which they hold the political sentiments
and principles which you have professed and maintained. There may
undoubtedly be differences of opinion among them with regard to this or
that particular measure; and a blind, indiscriminate, wholesale adhesion
to the life and opinions of any one would not be worth offering, nor
worth accepting, among freemen. We are not man-worshippers here in
Massachusetts. But the great political principles, the leading views of
policy, which you have been forward to assert and vindicate, these they
all unite to honor; and in rendering public homage to these, they feel
that they are not so much paying a compliment to you, as performing a
duty to their country.
"In a free republic, where all men exercise political power, the
prevalence of correct views and principles on political subjects is
essential to the safety of the state. It is not enough that their truth
should be recognized. Their operation and tendency must be understood
and appreciated; they must be made familiar to the mass of the
people, become closely interwoven with their whole habits of thought
and feeling, objects of attachment to which they may cling instantly and
instinctively in all time of doubt or peril, so as not to be swept away
by any sudden flood of prejudice or passion. Hence it is the duty of
every man to embrace all fit occasions, nay, to seek fit occasions, for
declaring his adherence to such principles, and giving them the
support of his influence, however high or however humble that influence
may be. There is no justice, therefore, in the complaint often made
against the members of our legislative assemblies, that they sometimes
speak not for their audience merely, but for their constituents;
seeking not simply to affect the decision of the question then
pending, but to influence the public sentiment with regard to the
principles involved in it. This affords no ground of censure against
them, so they speak well and wisely. The practice may be abused, no
doubt; but, in itself, it is a natural, inevitable right. So it should
be in relation to all important principles in a free country.
Nothing else but the excitement, kindled by the conflict of debate,
will ever make those great principles subjects of general attention
and interest. Nothing else but the observation of their application in
practice can make them generally understood and appreciated. We all
recollect questions (and among them that on Mr. Foot's resolutions,
not likely soon to be forgotten), the vote on which was as certainly
known before the discussion as after it, and known to be unalterable
by any argument or persuasion; and yet the discussion of which was
so far from being uninteresting and unprofitable, that it was echoed
and reëchoed through the land, making a deep and lasting impression
on the public mind, establishing incontrovertibly vital principles
before disputed, and thus giving new strength and stability to our
free institutions, and forming, I may almost say, an epoch in our
political history.
"On this and similar occasions, not to dwell on your steadfast
adherence to those more general principles of civil liberty, which are
equally important in every age and country,--on such occasions the
fundamental principles peculiar to our system of government have always
had in you a decided advocate, ever ready to develop and illustrate
their nature and operation, and to enforce the obligations which they
impose. Among the most prominent peculiarities of our system is the fact
that the United States are not a confederacy of independent sovereigns,
the subjects of each of whom are responsible to him alone for their
compliance with the obligations of the compact, but that, for certain
specified purposes, they form one nation, every citizen of which is
responsible, directly, immediately, exclusively, to the whole nation for
the performance of his duties to the whole; that the Constitution is not
a treaty, nor any thing like a treaty, but a frame of government,
resting on the same foundations, and supported by the same sanctions,
as any other government, to be subverted only by the same means, by
revolution,--revolution to be brought about by the same authority which
would warrant a revolution in any government, and by none other,--to be
justified, when justifiable, by the same paramount necessity, and by
nothing less. This government is not the government of the States, but
that of the people; and it behooves the people, every one of the
people, to do his utmost to preserve it; not in form merely, but in
its full efficiency, as a practical system; to maintain the Union as it
is, in all its integrity,--the Constitution as it is, in all its
purity, and in all its strength; and when they are in danger, to hasten
to their support promptly, frankly, fearlessly, undeterred, and
unencumbered by any political combination, let who will be his
companions in the good cause, and let who will hang back from it.
"The other great peculiarity of our political system--and on these two
hang all the liberty and hopes of America--is this: that the supreme
power or sovereignty is divided between the State and national
governments, and the portion allotted to each distributed--among
several independent departments; and this, notwithstanding the maxim of
European politicians, too hastily adopted by some of our own statesmen,
that sovereignty is, in its nature, indivisible. By sovereignty, I do
not mean, and they do not mean, the ultimate right of the people to
establish and subvert governments, the right of revolution, as it has
been called; for, thus understood, it would be absurd to inquire, as
they constantly do, where the sovereignty resides in any particular
government, since this ultimate sovereignty never can reside anywhere
but in the people themselves. It is inherent in them and inalienable,
existing equally as a right, however its exercise may be impeded, in
free and despotic governments. But by sovereignty must be understood the
supreme power of the government, the highest power which can lawfully be
exercised by any constituted authority. Now, let the politicians of
Europe say what they will of the indivisibility of this power, we know
that, among us, it is in point of fact divided; that in relation to some
objects, the supreme power is in the national government, subject to no
earthly control but that of the people, exercising their right of
revolution; and that in relation to others, it is in the State
governments, subject to the same and to no other control; and that in
each of these governments the power conferred is divided among the
legislative, executive, and judicial departments, each of which is
entirely independent in the performance of its appropriate duties.
"This system of practical cheeks and balances, altogether peculiar
to us, is designed to operate, and does operate, for the restraint of
power and the protection of liberty. But, like every earthly good, it
brings with it its attendant evil in the danger of encroachment and
collision. To guard against these dangers is one of the most important,
most difficult, most delicate of our public duties; to see that the
national government shall not encroach upon the power of the States,
nor the States on that of the nation; that no State shall interfere
with the domestic legislation of another, nor lightly nor unjustly
suspect another of seeking to interfere with its own; but that each of
these several governments, and every department in each, shall be
strictly confined to its proper sphere; that no one shall evade any
responsibility which is imposed on him by the Constitution and the laws,
and no one assume any responsibility which is not so.
"But by what power can this be accomplished? There is only one. Physical
force will not do it. The system of our government has been compared to
that of the heavenly bodies, which move on, orb within orb cycle within
cycle, in apparent confusion, but in real, uninterrupted, unalterable
harmony. And the harmony of our system can only be maintained by a
power, which, like that regulating their movements, is unseen, unfelt,
yet irresistible,--_Public Opinion_.
"This is the precise circumstance which renders the prevalence of just
political views and principles peculiarly important among us, and
secures to him, who labors faithfully and successfully to promote their
diffusion, the praise of having deserved well of his country.
"The opinions of men, however, are invariably and inevitably affected
by their interests and their feelings. This consideration opens a wide
field of duty to the American statesman, requiring him to prevent,
by every means in his power, all collisions of interest and all
exasperations of feeling; to correct and rebuke the misrepresentations
which tend to array one part of the country against another, or one
portion of society against another, as if their interests were adverse,
whereas in truth they are one; and, avoiding the paltry cunning which
plays off the different parts of the country against each other,
sacrificing the interests of the whole to this part to-day, on
condition that they shall be sacrificed to another to-morrow, by
which means they are always sacrificed, to be governed by that
liberal, enlightened, far-sighted policy, which in all questions of
expediency looks invariably and exclusively to the permanent interests
of the whole nation, considered as one,--which aims to impress on the
minds and the hearts of this people, deeply, indelibly, the great
truth, that the prosperity and the glory of the United States, their
improvement and happiness at home, their rank among the nations of
the earth, must be proportioned to the strength and cordiality of their
union, and can only be carried to their highest pitch by the universal
conviction, the deep-seated and overruling sentiment, that, for the
purposes set forth in the Constitution, we are one people, one and
indivisible; and that for us to break the bond that makes us one, and
resolve this glorious Union into its original elements, would be as
mad and as fatal as for England to go back again to her Heptarchy.
"The statesman who is governed by these principles and this policy,
whose great object is not to win the spoils of victory, nor even its
laurels, but to fight the good fight and render faithful service to his
country, will never want opportunity to merit the public gratitude,
whatever may be his political position. If in the majority, considering
that the duration of any administration is only a day in the existence
of the government, and yet a day which must affect all that are to
follow it, he will never be tempted to swerve from these great
principles by any temporary advantage, even to the whole community,
still less by any local or partial benefit, and least of all by any
party or personal consideration. He will not make it the chief object of
government to extend and perpetuate the power of his party. He will not
regard his political opponents as enemies, over whom he has triumphed
and whom he is to despoil. He will not seek to throw off or evade the
restraints imposed by the Constitution on all power, nor will he bestow
public offices as the reward or the motive for adherence to his party or
his person. If in the minority, he will find inducement enough and
reward enough for the most strenuous exertion, in the conviction, that
an intelligent, resolute, vigilant minority is not utterly powerless in
our government, but may often control, modify, or even arrest the most
pernicious schemes of reckless rulers, and diminish, if not prevent, the
evils of misrule. He will consider also, that in political science, as
in the other moral sciences, truth must always force its way slowly
against general opposition, and that although the great principles for
which he contends should not triumph in the debate of the day, they may
yet, if ably sustained, ultimately triumph in the hearts of the people,
and come at last to rule the land; and that thenceforward, so long as
their beneficent influence shall endure, so long as they shall be
remembered upon earth, so long will his name and his praise endure who
shall have watched over them in their weakness, and struggled for them
in their adversity.
"But I must not be tempted beyond the tone which befits the part
assigned me, which is simply to state the motives and feelings of those
for whom I speak on this occasion; and I am sure, Gentlemen, that I am
the faithful interpreter of your sentiments, when I say, that it is from
attachment to the great principles of civil liberty and constitutional
government, that you offer this token of respect to one who has always
maintained them and been governed by them; to one whom this people,
because he has been guided by those principles, and for the sake of
those principles, delight to honor; whom they honor with their
confidence, whom they honor by cherishing the memory of his past
services, and by their best hopes and wishes for the future, and whom
they will honor, let who else may shrink and falter, by their cordial
efforts to raise him to that high station for which so many patriotic
citizens, in various parts of the country, are now holding him up as a
candidate; and they will do this on the full conviction, that he will
always be true to those principles, wherever his country may call him."
To this address Mr. WEBSTER made the following reply.
PRESENTATION OF A VASE.[104]
MR. CHAIRMAN AND GENTLEMEN:--I accept, with grateful respect, the
present which it is your pleasure to make. I value it. It bears an
expression of your regard for those political principles which I have
endeavored to maintain; and though the material were less costly, or the
workmanship less elegant, any durable evidence of your approbation could
not but give me high satisfaction.
This approbation is the more gratifying, as it is not bestowed for
services connected with local questions, or local interests, or which
are supposed to have been peculiarly beneficial to yourselves, but for
efforts which had the interests of the whole country for their object,
and which were useful, if useful at all, to all who live under the
blessings of the Constitution and government of the United States.
It is twelve or thirteen years, Gentlemen, since I was honored with a
seat in Congress, by the choice of the citizens of Boston. They saw fit
to repeat that choice more than once; and I embrace, with pleasure, this
opportunity of expressing to them my sincere and profound sense of
obligation for these manifestations of confidence. At a later period,
the Legislature of the State saw fit to transfer me to another
place;[105] and have again renewed the trust, under circumstances which
I have felt to impose upon me new obligations of duty, and an increased
devotion to the political welfare of the country. These twelve or
thirteen years, Gentlemen, have been years of labor, and not without
sacrifices; but both have been more than compensated by the kindness,
the good-will, and the favorable interpretation with which my discharge
of official duties has been received. In this changing world, we can
hardly say that we possess what is present, and the future is all
unknown. But the past is ours. Its acquisitions, and its enjoyments, are
safe. And among these acquisitions, among the treasures of the past most
to be cherished and preserved, I shall ever reckon the proofs of esteem
and confidence which I have received from the citizens of Boston and the
Legislature of Massachusetts.
In one respect, Gentlemen, your present oppresses me. It overcomes me by
its tone of commendation. It assigns to me a character of which I feel I
am not worthy. "The Defender of the Constitution" is a title quite too
high for me. He who shall prove himself the ablest among the able men of
the country, he who shall serve it longest among those who may serve it
long, he on whose labors all the stars of benignant fortune shall shed
their selectest influence, will have praise enough, and reward enough,
if, at the end of his political and earthly career, though that career
may have been as bright as the track of the sun across the sky, the
marble under which he sleeps, and that much better record, the grateful
breasts of his living countrymen, shall pronounce him "the Defender of
the Constitution." It is enough for me, Gentlemen, to be connected, in
the most humble manner, with the defence and maintenance of this great
wonder of modern times, and this certain wonder of all future times. It
is enough for me to stand in the ranks, and only to be counted as one of
its defenders.
The Constitution of the United States, I am confident, will protect the
name and the memory both of its founders and of its friends, even of its
humblest friends. It will impart to both something of its own ever
memorable and enduring distinction; I had almost said, something of its
own everlasting remembrance. Centuries hence, when the vicissitudes of
human affairs shall have broken it, if ever they shall break it, into
fragments, these very fragments, every shattered column, every displaced
foundation-stone, shall yet be sure to bring them all into recollection,
and attract to them the respect and gratitude of mankind.
Gentlemen, it is to pay respect to this Constitution, it is to manifest
your attachment to it, your sense of its value, and your devotion to
its true principles, that you have sought this occasion. It is not to
pay an ostentatious personal compliment. If it were, it would be
unworthy both of you and of me. It is not to manifest attachment to
individuals, independent of all considerations of principles; if it
were, I should feel it my duty to tell you, friends as you are, that you
were doing that which, at this very moment, constitutes one of the most
threatening dangers to the Constitution itself. Your gift would have no
value in my eyes, this occasion would be regarded by me as an idle
pageant, if I did not know that they are both but modes, chosen by you,
to signify your attachment to the true principles of the Constitution;
your fixed purpose, so far as in you lies, to maintain those principles;
and your resolution to support public men, and stand by them, so long as
they shall support and stand by the Constitution of the country, and no
longer.
"The Constitution of the country!" Gentlemen, often as I am called to
contemplate this subject, its importance always rises, and magnifies
itself more and more, before me. I cannot view its preservation as a
concern of narrow extent, or temporary duration. On the contrary, I see
in it a vast interest, which is to run down with the generations of men,
and to spread over a great portion of the earth with a direct, and over
the rest with an indirect, but a most powerful influence. When I speak
of it here, in this thick crowd of fellow-citizens and friends, I yet
behold, thronging about me, a much larger and more imposing crowd. I see
a united rush of the present and the future. I see all the patriotic of
our own land, and our own time. I see also the many millions of their
posterity, and I see, too, the lovers of human liberty from every part
of the earth, from beneath the oppressions of thrones, and hierarchies,
and dynasties, from amidst the darkness of ignorance, degradation, and
despotism, into which any ray of political light has penetrated; I see
all those countless multitudes gather about us, and I hear their united
and earnest voices, conjuring us, in whose charge the treasure now is,
to hold on, and hold on to the last, by that which is our own highest
enjoyment and their best hope.
Filled with these sentiments, Gentlemen, and having through my political
life hitherto always acted under the deepest conviction of their truth
and importance, it is natural that I should have regarded the
preservation of the Constitution as the first great political object to
be secured. But I claim no exclusive merit. I should deem it,
especially, both unbecoming and unjust in me to separate myself, in this
respect, from other public servants of the people of Massachusetts. The
distinguished gentlemen who have preceded and followed me in the
representation of the city, their associates from other districts of the
State, and my late worthy and most highly esteemed colleague, are
entitled, one and all, to a full share in the public approbation. If
accidental circumstances, or a particular position, have sometimes
rendered me more prominent, equal patriotism and equal zeal have yet
made them equally deserving. It were invidious to enumerate these
fellow-laborers, or to discriminate among them. Long may they live! and
I could hardly express a better wish for the interest and honor of the
States, than that the public men who may follow them may be as
disinterested, as patriotic, and as able as they have proved
themselves.
There have been, Gentlemen, it is true, anxious moments. That was an
anxious occasion, to which the gentleman who has addressed me in your
behalf has alluded; I mean the debate in January, 1830. It seemed to me
then that the Constitution was about to be abandoned. Threatened with
most serious dangers, it was not only not defended, but attacked, as I
thought, and weakened and wounded in its vital powers and faculties, by
those to whom the country naturally looks for its defence and
protection. It appeared to me that the Union was about to go to pieces,
before the people were at all aware of the extent of the danger. The
occasion was not sought, but forced upon us; it seemed to me momentous,
and I confess that I felt that even the little that I could do, in such
a crisis, was called for by every motive which could be addressed to a
lover of the Constitution. I took a part in the debate, therefore, with
my whole heart already in the subject, and careless for every thing in
the result, except the judgment which the people of the United States
should form upon the questions involved in the discussion. I believe
that judgment has been definitely pronounced; but nothing is due to me,
beyond the merit of having made an earnest effort to present the true
question to the people, and to invoke for it that attention from them,
which its high importance appeared to me to demand.
The Constitution of the United States, Gentlemen, is of a peculiar
structure. Our whole system is peculiar. It is fashioned according to
no existing model, likened to no precedent, and yet founded on
principles which lie at the foundations of all free governments,
wherever such governments exist. It is a complicated system. It is
elaborate, and in some sense artificial, in its composition. We have
twenty-four State sovereignties, all exercising legislative, judicial,
and executive powers. Some of the sovereignties, or States, had long
existed, and, subject only to the restraint of the power of the parent
country, had been accustomed to the forms and to the exercise of the
powers of representative republics. Others of them are new creations,
coming into existence only under the Constitution itself; but all now
standing on an equal footing.
The general government, under which all these States are united, is not,
as has been justly remarked by Mr. Gray, a confederation. It is much
more than a confederation. It is a popular representative government,
with all the departments, and all the functions and organs, of such a
government. But it is still a limited, a restrained, a severely-guarded
government. It exists under a written constitution, and all that human
wisdom could do is done, to define its powers and to prevent their
abuse. It is placed in what was supposed to be the safest medium between
dangerous authority on the one hand, and debility and inefficiency on
the other. I think that happy medium was found, by the exercise of the
greatest political sagacity, and the influence of the highest good
fortune. We cannot move the system either way, without the probability
of hurtful change; and as experience has taught us its safety, and its
usefulness, when left where it is, our duty is a plain one.
It cannot be doubted that a system thus complicated must be accompanied
by more or less of danger, in every stage of its existence. It has not
the simplicity of despotism. It is not a plain column, that stands
self-poised and self-supported. Nor is it a loose, irregular, unfixed,
and undefined system of rule, which admits of constant and violent
changes, without losing its character. But it is a balanced and guarded
system; a system of checks and controls; a system in which powers are
carefully delegated, and as carefully limited; a system in which the
symmetry of the parts is designed to produce an aggregate whole, which
shall be favorable to personal liberty, favorable to public prosperity,
and favorable to national glory. And who can deny, that, by a trial of
fifty years, this American system of government has proved itself
capable of conferring all these blessings? These years have been years
of great agitation throughout the civilized world. In the course of them
the face of Europe has been completely changed. Old and corrupt
governments have been destroyed, and new ones, erected in their places,
have been destroyed too, sometimes in rapid succession. Yet, through all
the extraordinary, the most extraordinary scenes of this half-century,
the free, popular, representative government of the United States has
stood, and has afforded security for liberty, for property, and for
reputation, to all citizens.
That it has been exposed to many dangers, that it has met critical
moments, is certain. That it is now exposed to dangers, and that a
crisis is now before it, is equally clear, in my judgment. But it has
hitherto been preserved, and vigilance and patriotism may rescue it
again.
Our dangers, Gentlemen, are not from _without_. We have nothing to
fear from foreign powers, except those interruptions of the occupations
of life which all wars occasion. The dangers to our system, as a
system, do not spring from that quarter. On the contrary, the pressure
of foreign hostility would be most likely to unite us, and to
strengthen our union, by an augmented sense of its utility and
necessity. But our dangers are from within. I do not now speak of those
dangers which have in all ages beset republican governments, such as
luxury among the rich, the corruption of public officers, and the
general degradation of public morals. I speak only of those peculiar
dangers to which the structure of our government particularly exposes
it, in addition to all other ordinary dangers. These arise among
ourselves; they spring up at home; and the evil which they threaten is
no less than disunion, or the overthrow of the whole system. Local
feelings and local parties, a notion sometimes a sedulously cultivated
of opposite interests in different portions of the Union, evil
prophecies respecting its duration, cool calculations upon the
benefits of separation, a narrow feeling that cannot embrace all the
States as one country, an unsocial, anti-national, and half-belligerent
spirit, which sometimes betrays itself,--all these undoubtedly are
causes which affect, more or less, our prospect of holding together.
All these are unpropitious influences.
The Constitution, again, is founded on compromise, and the most perfect
and absolute good faith, in regard to every stipulation of this kind
contained in it is indispensable to its preservation. Every attempt to
accomplish even the best purpose, every attempt to grasp that which is
regarded as an immediate good, in violation of these stipulations, is
full of danger to the whole Constitution. I need not say, also, that
possible collision between the general and the State governments always
has been, is, and ever must be, a source of danger to be strictly
watched by wise men.
But, Gentlemen, as I have spoken of dangers now, in my judgment actually
existing, I will state at once my opinions on that point, without fear
and without reserve. I reproach no man, I accuse no man; but I speak of
things as they appear to me, and I speak of principles and practices
which I deem most alarming. I think, then, Gentlemen, that a great
practical change is going on in the Constitution, which, if not checked,
must completely alter its whole character. This change consists in the
diminution of the just powers of Congress on the one hand, and in the
vast increase of executive authority on the other. The government of the
United States, in the aggregate, or the legislative power of Congress,
seems fast losing, one after another, its accustomed powers. One by one,
they are practically struck out of the Constitution. What has become of
the power of internal improvement? Does it remain in the Constitution,
or is it erased by the repeated exercise of the President's veto, and
the acquiescence in that exercise of all who call themselves his
friends, whatever their own opinions of the Constitution may be? The
power to create a national bank, a power exercised for forty years,
approved by all Presidents, and by Congress at all times, and sanctioned
by a solemn adjudication of the Supreme Court, is it not true that party
has agreed to strike this power, too, from the Constitution, in
compliance with what has been openly called the interests of party? Nay,
more; that great power, the power of protecting domestic industry, who
can tell me whether that power is now regarded as in the Constitution,
or out of it?
But, if it be true that the diminution of the just powers of Congress,
in these particulars, has been attempted, and attempted with more or
less success, it is still more obvious, I think, that the executive
power of the government has been dangerously increased. It is spread,
in the first place, over all that ground from which the legislative
power of Congress is driven. Congress can no longer establish a bank,
controlled by the laws of the United States, amenable to the authority,
and open, at all times, to the examination and inspection of the
legislature. It is no longer constitutional to make such a bank, for the
safe custody of the public treasure. But of the thousand State
corporations already existing, it is constitutional for the executive
government to select such as it pleases, to intrust the public money to
their keeping, without responsibility to the laws of the United States,
without the duty of exhibiting their concerns, at any time, to the
committees of Congress, and with no other guards or securities than such
as executive discretion on the one hand, and the banks themselves on the
other, may see fit to agree to.
And so of internal improvement. It is not every thing in the nature of
public improvements which is forbidden. It is only that the selection of
objects is not with Congress. Whatever appears to the executive
discretion to be of a proper nature, or such as comes within certain not
very intelligible limits, may be tolerated. And even with respect to the
tariff itself, while as a system it is denounced as unconstitutional, it
is probable some portion of it might find favor.
But it is not the frequent use of the power of the veto, it is not the
readiness with which men yield their own opinions, and see important
powers practically obliterated from the Constitution, in order to
subserve the interest of the party, it is not even all this which
furnishes, at the present moment, the most striking demonstration of the
increase of executive authority. It is the use of the power of
patronage; it is the universal giving and taking away of all place and
office, for reasons no way connected with the public service, or the
faithful execution of the laws; it is this which threatens with
overthrow all the true principles of the government. Patronage is
reduced to a system. It is used as the patrimony, the property of party.
Every office is a largess, a bounty, a favor; and it is expected to be
compensated by service and fealty. A numerous and well-disciplined corps
of office-holders, acting with activity and zeal, and with incredible
union of purpose, is attempting to seize on the strong posts, and to
control, effectually, the expression of the public will. As has been
said of the Turks in Europe, they are not so much mingled with us, as
encamped among us. And it is more lamentable, that the apathy which
prevails in a time of general prosperity produces, among a great
majority of the people, a disregard to the efforts and objects of this
well-trained and effective corps. But, Gentlemen, the principle is
vicious; it is destructive and ruinous; and whether it produces its work
of disunion to-day or to-morrow, it must produce it in the end. It must
destroy the balance of the government, and so destroy the government
itself. The government of the United States controls the army, the navy,
the custom-house, the post-office, the land-offices, and other great
sources of patronage. What have the States to oppose to all this? And if
the States shall see all this patronage, if they shall see every officer
under this government, in all its ramifications, united with every other
officer, and all acting steadily in a design to produce political
effect, even in State governments, is it possible not to perceive that
they will, before long, regard the whole government of the Union with
distrust and jealousy, and finally with fear and hatred?
Among other evils, it is the tendency of this system to push party
feelings and party spirit to their utmost excess. It involves not only
opinions and principles, but the pursuits of life and the means of
living, in the contests of party. The executive himself becomes but the
mere point of concentration of party power; and when executive power is
exercised or is claimed for the supposed benefit of party, party will
approve and justify it. When did heated and exasperated party ever
complain of its leaders for seizing on new degrees of power?
This system of government has been openly avowed. Offices of trust are
declared, from high places, to be the regular spoils of party victory;
and all that is furnished out of the public purse, as a reward for labor
in the public service, becomes thus a boon, offered to personal devotion
and partisan service. The uncontrolled power of removal is the spring
which moves all this machinery; and I verily believe the government is,
and will be, in serious danger, till some check is placed on that power.
To combine and consolidate a great party by the influence of personal
hopes, to govern by the patronage of office, to exercise the power of
removal at pleasure, in order to render that patronage effectual,--this
seems to be the sum and substance of the political systems of the times.
I am sorry to say, that the germ of this system had its first being in
the Senate.
The policy began in the last year of Mr. Adams's administration, when
nominations made by him to fill vacancies occurring by death or
resignation were postponed, by a vote of the majority of the Senate, to
a period beyond the ensuing 4th of March; and this was done with no
other view than that of giving the patronage of these appointments to
the incoming President. The nomination of a judge of the Supreme Court,
among others, was thus disposed of. The regular action of the government
was, in this manner, deranged, and undue and unjustly obtained patronage
came to be received as among the ordinary means of government. Some of
the gentlemen who concurred in this vote have since, probably, seen
occasion to regret it. But they thereby let loose the lion of executive
prerogative, and they have not yet found out how they can drive it back
again to its cage. The debates in the Senate on these questions, in the
session of 1828-29, are not public; but I take this occasion to say,
that the minority of the Senate, as it was then constituted, including,
among others, myself and colleague, contended against this innovation
upon the Constitution, for days and for weeks; but we contended in
vain.
The doctrine of patronage thus got a foothold in the government. A
general removal from office followed, exciting, at first, no small share
of public attention; but every exercise of the power rendered its
exercise in the next case still easier, till removal at will has become
the actual system on which the government is administered.
It is hardly a fit occasion, Gentlemen, to go into the history of this
power of removal. It was declared to exist in the days of Washington, by
a very small majority in each house of Congress. It has been considered
as existing to the present time. But no man expected it to be used as a
mere arbitrary power; and those who maintained its existence declared,
nevertheless, that it would justly become matter of impeachment, if it
should be used for purposes such as those to which the most blind among
us must admit they have recently seen it habitually applied. I have the
highest respect for those who originally concurred in this construction
of the Constitution. But, as discreet men of the day were divided on the
question, as Madison and other distinguished names were on one side, and
Gerry and other distinguished names on the other, one may now differ
from either, without incurring the imputation of arrogance, since he
must differ from some of them. I confess my judgment would have been,
that the power of removal did not belong to the President alone; that it
was but a part of the power of appointment, since the power of
appointing one man to office implies the power of vacating that office,
by removing another out of it; and as the whole power of appointment is
granted, not to the President alone, but to the President and Senate,
the true interpretation of the Constitution would have carried the power
of removal into the same hands. I have, however, so recently expressed
my sentiments on this point in another place, that it would be improper
to pursue this line of observation further.
In the course of the last session, Gentlemen, several bills passed the
Senate, intended to correct abuses, to restrain useless expenditure, to
curtail the discretionary authority of public officers, and to control
government patronage. The post-office bill, the custom-house bill, and
the bill respecting the tenure of office, were all of this class. None
of them, however, received the favorable consideration of the other
house. I believe, that in all these respects a reform, a real, honest
reform, is decidedly necessary to the security of the Constitution; and
while I continue in public life, I shall not halt in my endeavors to
produce it. It is time to bring back the government to its true
character as an agency for the people. It is time to declare that
offices, created for the people, are public trusts, not private spoils.
It is time to bring each and every department within its true original
limits. It is time to assent, on one hand, to the just powers of
Congress, in their full extent, and to resist, on the other, the
progress and rapid growth of executive authority.
These, Gentlemen, are my opinions. I have spoken them frankly, and
without reserve. Under present circumstances, I should wish to avoid any
concealment, and to state my political opinions in their full length and
breadth. I desire not to stand before the country as a man of no
opinions, or of such a mixture of opposite opinions that the result has
no character at all. On the contrary, I am desirous of standing as one
who is bound to his own consistency by the frankest avowal of his
sentiments, on all important and interesting subjects. I am not partly
for the Constitution, and partly against it; I am wholly for it, for it
altogether, for it as it is, and for the exercise, when occasion
requires, of all its just powers, as they have heretofore been
exercised by Washington, and the great men who have followed him in its
administration.
I disdain, altogether, the character of an uncommitted man. I am
committed, fully committed; committed to the full extent of all that I
am, and all that I hope, to the Constitution of the country, to its love
and reverence, to its defence and maintenance, to its warm commendation
to every American heart, and to its vindication and just praise, before
all mankind. And I am committed _against_ every thing which, in my
judgment, may weaken, endanger, or destroy it. I am committed against
the encouragement of local parties and local feelings; I am committed
against all fostering of anti-national spirit; I am committed against
the slightest infringement of the original compromise on which the
Constitution was founded; I am committed against any and every
derangement of the powers of the several departments of the government,
against any derogation from the constitutional authority of Congress,
and especially against all extension of executive power; and I am
committed against any attempt to rule the free people of this country by
the power and the patronage of the government itself. I am committed,
fully and entirely committed, against making the government the people's
master.
These, Gentlemen, are my opinions. I have purposely avowed them with the
utmost frankness. They are not the sentiments of the moment, but the
result of much reflection, and of some experience in the affairs of the
country. I believe them to be such sentiments as are alone compatible
with the permanent prosperity of the country, or the long continuance of
its union.
And now, Gentlemen, having thus solemnly avowed these sentiments and
these convictions, if you should find me hereafter to be false to them,
or to falter in their support, I now conjure you, by all the duty you
owe your country, by all your hopes of her prosperity and renown, by all
your love for the general cause of liberty throughout the world,--I
conjure you, that, renouncing me as a recreant, you yourselves go on,
right on, straightforward, in maintaining, with your utmost zeal and
with all your power, the true principles of the best, the happiest, the
most glorious Constitution of a free government, with which it has
pleased Providence, in any age, to bless any of the nations of the
earth.
FOOTNOTES
[104] Speech delivered in the Odeon, at Boston, on Occasion of the
Presentation of a Vase by Citizens of that Place, on the 12th of
October, 1835.
[105] The Senate of the United States.
RECEPTION AT NEW YORK.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
At a meeting of the political friends of the Hon. Daniel Webster,
held at Euterpian Hall, in the city of New York, on Tuesday evening,
the 21st of February, 1837, Chancellor Kent was called to the chair,
and Messrs. Hiram Ketchum and Gabriel P. Dissosway were appointed
secretaries.
The object of the meeting having been explained, the following
resolutions were, on motion, duly seconded and unanimously
adopted:--
"_Resolved_, That this meeting has heard with deep concern of the
intention of the Hon. Daniel Webster to resign his seat in the Senate of
the United States at the close of the present session of Congress, or
early in the next session.
"_Resolved_, That while we regret the resignation of Mr. Webster, it
would be most unreasonable to censure the exercise of his right to seek
repose, after fourteen years of unremitted, zealous, and highly
distinguished labors in the Congress of the United States; but we
indulge the hope that the nation will, at no distant day, again profit
by his ripe experience as a statesman and his extensive knowledge of
public affairs, by his wisdom in council and eloquence in debate.
"_Resolved_, That in the judgment of this meeting there is none among
the living or the dead who has given to the country more just or able
expositions of the Constitution of the United States; none who has
enforced, with more lucid and impassionate eloquence, the necessity and
importance of the preservation of the Union, or exhibited more zeal or
ability in defending the Constitution from the foes without the
government, and foes within it, than Daniel Webster.
"_Resolved_, That there is no part of our widely extended country more
deeply interested in the preservation of the Union than the city of New
York; her motto should be 'Union and Liberty, now and for ever, one and
inseparable,' and her gratitude should be shown to the statesman who
first gave utterance to this sentiment.
"_Resolved_, That David B. Ogden, Peter Stagg, Jonathan Thompson, James
Brown, Philip Hone, Samuel Stevens, Robert Smith, Joseph Tucker, Peter
Sharpe, Egbert Benson, Hugh Maxwell, Peter A. Jay, Aaron Clark, Ira B.
Wheeler, William W. Todd, Seth Grosvenor, Simeon Draper, Jr., Wm.
Aspinwall, Nathaniel Weed, Jonathan Goodhue, Caleb Bartow, Hiram
Ketchum, Gabriel P. Dissosway, Henry K. Bogert, James Kent, Wm. S.
Johnson, and John W. Leavitt, Esqrs., be a committee authorized and
empowered to receive the Hon. Daniel Webster on his return from
Washington, and make known to him, in the form of an address or
otherwise, the sentiments which this meeting, in common with the friends
of the Union and the Constitution in the city, entertain for the
services which he has performed for the country; that the committee
correspond with Mr. Webster, and ascertain the time when his arrival may
be expected, and give public notice of the same, together with the order
of proceedings which may be adopted under these resolutions.
"_Resolved_, That these resolutions, signed by the Chairman and
Secretaries, be published when the committee shall notify the public of
the expected arrival of Mr. Webster.
"JAMES KENT, _Chairman_.
"HIRAM KETCHUM, GABRIEL P. DISSOSWAY, _Secretaries_."
* * * * *
"_New York, March 1, 1837._
"SIR:--It having been currently reported that you have signified your
intention to resign your seat in the Senate of the United States, a
number of the friends of the Union and the Constitution in this city
were convened on the evening of the 21st of last month, to devise
measures whereby they might signify to you the sentiments which they, in
common with all the Whigs in this city, entertain for the eminent
services you have rendered to the country. At this meeting, the Hon.
James Kent was called to the chair, and resolutions, a copy of which I
inclose you, were adopted, not only with entire unanimity, but with a
feeling of warm and hearty concurrence. On behalf of the committee
appointed under one of these resolutions, I now have the honor to
address you. It will be gratifying to the committee to learn from you at
what time you expect to arrive in this city on your return to
Massachusetts. If informed of the time of your arrival, it will afford
the committee pleasure to meet you, and, in behalf of the Whigs of New
York, to welcome you, and to offer you, in a more extended form than the
resolutions present, their views of your public services. I am
instructed by the committee to say, that, whether you shall choose to
appear among us as a public man or a private citizen, you will be warmly
greeted by every sound friend of that Constitution for which you have
been so distinguished a champion. Should your resolution to resign your
seat in the Senate be relinquished, you will, in the opinion of the
committee, impose new obligations upon the friends of the Union and the
Constitution.
"I have the honor to be, very truly, your obedient servant,
"D. B. OGDEN.
"To Hon. DANIEL WEBSTER, Washington."
* * * * *
"_Washington, March 4th, 1837._
"MY DEAR SIR:--I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of your
letter of the 1st instant, communicating the resolutions adopted at a
meeting of a number of political friends in New York.
"The character of these resolutions, and the kindness of the sentiments
expressed in your letter, have filled me with unaffected gratitude. I
feel, at the same time, how little deserving are any political services
of mine of such commendation from such a source. To the discharge of the
duties of my public situation, sometimes both anxious and difficult, I
have devoted time and labor without reserve; and have made sacrifices of
personal and private convenience not always unimportant. These, together
with integrity of purpose and fidelity, constitute, I am conscious, my
only claim to the public regard; and for all these I find myself richly
compensated by proofs of approbation such as your communication
affords.
"My desire to relinquish my seat in the Senate for the two years still
remaining of the term for which I was chosen, would have been carried
into execution at the close of the present session of the Senate, had
not circumstances existed which, in the judgment of others, rendered it
expedient to defer the fulfilment of that purpose for the present.
"It is my expectation to be in New York early in the week after next;
and it will give me pleasure to meet the political friends who have
tendered me this kind and respectful attention, in any manner most
agreeable to them.
"I pray you to accept for yourself, and the other gentlemen of the
committee, my highest regard.
"DANIEL WEBSTER.
"To D. B. OGDEN, Esq., New York."
* * * * *
"At a meeting of the committee appointed under the above resolution,
Philip Hone, Robert Smith, John W. Leavitt, Egbert Benson, Ira B.
Wheeler, Caleb Bartow, Simeon Draper, Jr., and Wm. S. Johnson, Esqrs.,
were appointed a sub-committee to make arrangements for the reception of
Mr. Webster. The committee have corresponded with Mr. Webster, and
ascertained that he will leave Philadelphia on the morning of Wednesday
next. He will be met by the committee, and, on landing at Whitehall, at
about two o'clock on Wednesday afternoon, will thence be conducted by
the committee, accompanied by such other citizens as choose to join
them, to a place hereafter to be designated. In the evening, at half
past six o'clock, he will be addressed by the committee, in a public
meeting of citizens, at Niblo's Saloon.
"D. B. OGDEN, _Chairman_."
On the subsequent day, March 15th, the committee appointed for
that purpose met Mr. Webster at Amboy, and accompanied him to
the city, where he was met, on landing, by a very numerous
assemblage of citizens, who thronged to see the distinguished
Senator, and give him a warm welcome; after landing, he was
attended by the committee and a numerous cavalcade through Broadway,
which was crowded with the most respectable citizens, to lodgings
provided for him at the American Hotel. Here he made a short address
to the assembled citizens, and in the evening was accompanied by
the committee to Niblo's Saloon. One of the largest meetings ever
held in the city of New York assembled in the Saloon, and at half
past six o'clock was called to order by AARON CLARK; DAVID B.
OGDEN was called to the chair as President of the meeting; Robert
C. Cornell, Jonathan Goodhue, Joseph Tucker, and Nathaniel Weed
were nominated Vice-Presidents; and Joseph Hoxie and George S.
Robbins, Secretaries.
After the meeting was organized, PHILIP HONE introduced Mr. Webster
with a few appropriate remarks, and he was received with the most
enthusiastic greetings. Mr. OGDEN then addressed him as follows:--
"On behalf of a committee, appointed at a meeting of a number of your
personal and political friends in this city, I have now the honor of
addressing you.
"It has afforded the committee, and, I may add, all your political
friends, unmingled pleasure to learn that you have, at least for the
present, relinquished the intention which I know you had formed of
resigning your seat in the Senate of the United States. While expressing
their feelings upon this change in your determination, the committee
cannot avoid congratulating the country that your public services are
not yet to be lost to it and that the great champion of the Constitution
and of the Union is still to continue in the field upon which he has
earned so many laurels, and has so nobly asserted and defended the
rights and liberties of the people.
"The effort made by you, and the honorable men with whom you have acted
in the Senate, to resist executive encroachments upon the other
departments of the government, will ever be remembered with gratitude by
the friends of American liberty. That these efforts were not more
successful, we shall long have reason to remember and regret. The
administration of General Jackson is fortunately at an end. Its effects
upon the Constitution and upon the commercial prosperity of the country
are not at an end. Without attempting to review the leading measures of
his administration, every man engaged in business in New York feels,
most sensibly, that his experiment upon the currency has produced the
evils which you foretold it would produce. It has brought distress, to
an extent never before experienced, upon the men of enterprise and of
small capital, and has put all the primary power in the hands of a few
great capitalists.
"Upon the Senate our eyes and our hopes are fixed; we know that you and
your political friends are in a minority in that body, but we know that
in that minority are to be found great talents, great experience, great
patriotism, and we look for great and continued exertions to maintain
the Constitution, the Union, and the liberties of this people. And we
take this opportunity of expressing our entire confidence, that whatever
men can do in a minority will be done in the Senate to relieve the
country from the evils under which she is now laboring, and to save her
from being sacrificed by folly, corruption, or usurpation.
"It gives me, Sir, pleasure to be the organ of the committee to express
to you their great respect for your talents, their deep sense of the
importance of your public services, and their gratification to learn
that you will still continue in the Senate."
To this address Mr. WEBSTER replied in the following speech.
RECEPTION AT NEW YORK.[106]
MR. CHAIRMAN, AND FELLOW-CITIZENS:--It would be idle in me to affect to
be indifferent to the circumstances under which I have now the honor of
addressing you.
I find myself in the commercial metropolis of the continent, in the
midst of a vast assembly of intelligent men, drawn from all the classes,
professions, and pursuits of life.
And you have been pleased, Gentlemen, to meet me, in this imposing
manner, and to offer me a warm and cordial welcome to your city. I thank
you. I feel the full force and importance of this manifestation of your
regard. In the highly-flattering resolutions which invited me here, in
the respectability of this vast multitude of my fellow-citizens, and in
the approbation and hearty good-will which you have here manifested, I
feel cause for profound and grateful acknowledgment.
To every individual of this meeting, therefore, I would now most
respectfully make that acknowledgment; and with every one, as with hands
joined in mutual greeting, I reciprocate friendly salutation, respect,
and good wishes.
But, Gentlemen, although I am well assured of your personal regard, I
cannot fail to know, that the times, the political and commercial
condition of things which exists among us, and an intelligent spirit,
awakened to new activity and a new degree of anxiety, have mainly
contributed to fill these avenues and crowd these halls. At a moment of
difficulty, and of much alarm, you come here as Whigs of New York, to
meet one whom you believe to be bound to you by common principles and
common sentiments, and pursuing, with you, a common object Gentlemen, I
am proud to admit this community of our principles, and this identity of
our objects. You are for the Constitution of the country; so am I. You
are for the Union of the States: so am I. You are for equal laws, for
the equal rights of all men, for constitutional and just restraints on
power, for the substance and not the shadowy image only of popular
institutions, for a government which has liberty for its spirit and
soul, as well as in its forms; and so am I. You feel that if, in warm
party times, the executive power is in hands distinguished for boldness,
for great success, for perseverance, and other qualities which strike
men's minds strongly, there is danger of derangement of the powers of
government, danger of a new division of those powers, in which the
executive is likely to obtain the lion's part; and danger of a state of
things in which the more popular branches of the government, instead of
being guards and sentinels against any encroachments from the executive,
seek, rather, support from its patronage, safety against the complaints
of the people in its ample and all-protecting favor, and refuge in its
power; and so I feel, and so I have felt for eight long and anxious
years.
You believe that a very efficient and powerful cause in the production
of the evils which now fall on the industrious and commercial classes of
the community, is the derangement of the currency, the destruction of
the exchanges, and the unnatural and unnecessary _misplacement_ of the
specie of the country, by unauthorized and illegal treasury orders. So
do I believe. I predicted all this from the beginning, and from before
the beginning. I predicted it all, last spring, when that was attempted
to be done by law which was afterwards done by executive authority; and
from the moment of the exercise of that executive authority to the
present time, I have both foreseen and seen the regular progress of
things under it, from inconvenience and embarrassment, to pressure, loss
of confidence, disorder, and bankruptcies.
Gentlemen, I mean, on this occasion, to speak my sentiments freely on
the great topics of the day. I have nothing to conceal, and shall
therefore conceal nothing. In regard to political sentiments,
purposes, or objects, there is nothing in my heart which I am ashamed
of; I shall throw it all open, therefore, to you, and to all men.
[That is right, said some one in the crowd; let us have it, with no
non-committal.] Yes, my friend, without non-committal or evasion,
without barren generalities or empty phrase, without _if_ or _but_,
without a single touch, in all I say, bearing the oracular character of
an Inaugural, I shall, on this occasion, speak my mind plainly,
freely, and independently, to men who are just as free to concur or not
to concur in my sentiments, as I am to utter them. I think you are
entitled to hear my opinions freely and frankly spoken; but I freely
acknowledge that you are still more clearly entitled to retain, and
maintain, your own opinions, however they may differ or agree with
mine.
It is true, Gentlemen, that I have contemplated the relinquishment of my
seat in the Senate for the residue of the term, now two years, for
which I was chosen. This resolution was not taken from disgust or
discouragement, although some things have certainly happened which
might excite both those feelings. But in popular governments, men
must not suffer themselves to be permanently disgusted by occasional
exhibitions of political harlequinism, or deeply discouraged, although
their efforts to awaken the people to what they deem the dangerous
tendency of public measures be not crowned with immediate success. It
was altogether from other causes, and other considerations, that, after
an uninterrupted service of fourteen or fifteen years, I naturally
desired a respite. But those whose opinions I am bound to respect
saw objections to a present withdrawal from Congress; and I have yielded
my own strong desire to their convictions of what the public good
requires.
Gentlemen, in speaking here on the subjects which now so much interest
the community, I wish in the outset to disclaim all personal disrespect
towards individuals. He whose character and fortune have exercised such
a decisive influence on our politics for eight years, has now retired
from public station. I pursue him with no personal reflections, no
reproaches. Between him and myself, there has always existed a
respectful personal intercourse. Moments have existed, indeed, critical
and decisive upon the general success of his administration, in which he
has been pleased to regard my aid as not altogether unimportant I now
speak of him respectfully, as a distinguished soldier, as one who, in
that character, has done the state much service; as a man, too, of
strong and decided character, of unsubdued resolution and perseverance
in whatever he undertakes. In speaking of his civil administration, I
speak without censoriousness or harsh imputation of motives; I wish him
health and happiness in his retirement; but I must still speak as I
think of his public measures, and of their general bearing and tendency,
not only on the present interests of the country, but also on the
well-being and security of the government itself.
There are, however, some topics of a less urgent present application and
importance, upon which I wish to say a few words, before I advert to
those which are more immediately connected with the present distressed
state of things.
My learned and highly-valued friend (Mr. Ogden) who has addressed me in
your behalf, has been kindly pleased to speak of my political career as
being marked by a freedom from local interests and prejudices, and a
devotion to liberal and comprehensive views of public policy.
I will not say that this compliment is deserved. I will only say, that I
have earnestly endeavored to deserve it. Gentlemen, the general
government, to the extent of its power, is national. It is not
consolidated, it does not embrace all powers of government. On the
contrary, it is delegated, restrained, strictly limited.
But what powers it does possess, it possesses for the general, not
for any partial or local good. It extends over a vast territory,
embracing now six-and-twenty States, with interests various, but not
irreconcilable, infinitely diversified, but capable of being all blended
into political harmony.
He, however, who would produce this harmony must survey the whole field,
as if all parts were as interesting to himself as they are to others,
and with that generous, patriotic feeling, prompter and better than the
mere dictates of cool reason, which leads him to embrace the whole with
affectionate regard, as constituting, altogether, that object which he
is so much bound to respect, to defend, and to love,--his country. We
have around us, and more or less within the influence and protection of
the general government, all the great interests of agriculture,
navigation, commerce, manufactures, the fisheries, and the mechanic
arts. The duties of the government, then, certainly extend over all this
territory, and embrace all these vast interests. We have a maritime
frontier, a sea-coast, of many thousand miles; and while no one doubts
that it is the duty of government to defend this coast by suitable
military preparations, there are those who yet suppose that the powers
of government stop at this point; and that as to works of peace and
works of improvement, they are beyond our constitutional limits. I have
ever thought otherwise. Congress has a right, no doubt, to declare war,
and to provide armies and navies; and it has necessarily the right to
build fortifications and batteries, to protect the coast from the
effects of war. But Congress has authority also, and it is its duty, to
regulate commerce, and it has the whole power of collecting duties on
imports and tonnage. It must have ports and harbors, and dock-yards
also, for its navies. Very early in the history of the government, it
was decided by Congress, on the report of a highly respectable
committee, that the transfer by the States to Congress of the power of
collecting tonnage and other duties, and the grant of the authority to
regulate commerce, charged Congress, necessarily, with the duty of
maintaining such piers and wharves and light-houses, and of making such
improvements, as might have been expected to be done by the States, if
they had retained the usual means, by retaining the power of collecting
duties on imports. The States, it was admitted, had parted with this
power; and the duty of protecting and facilitating commerce by these
means had passed, along with this power, into other hands. I have never
hesitated, therefore, when the state of the treasury would admit, to
vote for reasonable appropriations, for breakwaters, light-houses,
piers, harbors, and similar public works, on any part of the whole
Atlantic coast or the Gulf of Mexico, from Maine to Louisiana.
But how stands the inland frontier? How is it along the vast lakes and
the mighty rivers of the North and West? Do our constitutional rights
and duties terminate where the water ceases to be salt? or do they
exist, in full vigor, on the shores of these inland seas? I never could
doubt about this; and yet, Gentlemen, I remember even to have
participated in a warm debate, in the Senate, some years ago, upon the
constitutional right of Congress to make an appropriation for a pier in
the harbor of Buffalo. What! make a harbor at Buffalo, where Nature
never made any, and where therefore it was never intended any ever
should be made! Take money from the people to run out piers from the
sandy shores of Lake Erie, or deepen the channels of her shallow
rivers! Where was the constitutional authority for this? Where would
such strides of power stop? How long would the States have any powers at
all left, if their territory might be ruthlessly invaded for such
unhallowed purposes, or how long would the people have any money in
their pockets, if the government of the United States might tax them, at
pleasure, for such extravagant project as these? Piers, wharves,
harbors, and breakwaters in the Lakes! These arguments, Gentlemen,
however earnestly put forth heretofore, do not strike us with great
power, at the present day, if we stand on the shores of Lake Erie, and
see hundreds of vessels, with valuable cargoes and thousands of valuable
lives, moving on its waters, with few shelters from the storm, except
what is furnished by the havens created, or made useful, by the aid of
government. These great lakes, stretching away many thousands of miles,
not in a straight line, but with turns and deflections, as if designed
to reach, by water communication, the greatest possible number of
important points through a region of vast extent, cannot but arrest the
attention of any one who looks upon the map. They lie connected, but
variously placed; and interspersed, as if with studied variety of form
and direction, over that part of the country. They were made for man,
and admirably adapted for his use and convenience. Looking, Gentlemen,
over our whole country, comprehending in our survey the Atlantic coast,
with its thick population, its advanced agriculture, its extended
commerce, its manufactures and mechanic arts, its varieties of
communication, its wealth, and its general improvements; and looking,
then, to the interior, to the immense tracts of fresh, fertile, and
cheap lands, bounded by so many lakes, and watered by so many
magnificent rivers, let me ask if such a MAP was ever before presented
to the eye of any statesman, as the theatre for the exercise of his
wisdom and patriotism? And let me ask, too, if any man is fit to act a
part, on such a theatre, who does not comprehend the whole of it within
the scope of his policy, and embrace it all as his country?
Again, Gentlemen, we are one in respect to the glorious Constitution
under which we live. We are all united in the great brotherhood of
American liberty. Descending from the same ancestors, bred in the same
school, taught in infancy to imbibe the same general political
sentiments, Americans all, by birth, education, and principle, what but
a narrow mind, or woful ignorance, or besotted selfishness, or prejudice
ten times blinded, can lead any of us to regard the citizens of any part
of the country as strangers and aliens?
The solemn truth, moreover, is before us, that a common political fate
attends us all.
Under the present Constitution, wisely and conscientiously administered,
all are safe, happy, and renowned. The measure of our country's fame may
fill all our breasts. It is fame enough for us all to partake in _her_
glory, if we will carry her character onward to its true destiny. But if
the system is broken, its fragments must fall alike on all. Not only the
cause of American liberty, but the grand cause of liberty throughout the
whole earth, depends, in a great measure, on upholding the Constitution
and Union of these States. If shattered and destroyed, no matter by what
cause, the peculiar and cherished idea of United American Liberty will
be no more for ever. There may be free states, it is possible, when
there shall be separate states. There may be many loose, and feeble, and
hostile confederacies, where there is now one great and united
confederacy. But the noble idea of United American Liberty, of _our_
liberty, such as our fathers established it, will be extinguished for
ever. Fragments and shattered columns of the edifice may be found
remaining; and melancholy and mournful ruins will they be. The august
temple itself will be prostrate in the dust. Gentlemen, the citizens of
this republic cannot sever their fortunes. A common fate awaits us. In
the honor of upholding, or in the disgrace of undermining the
Constitution, we shall all necessarily partake. Let us then stand by the
Constitution as it is, and by our country as it is, one, united, and
entire; let it be a truth engraven on our hearts, let it be borne on the
flag under which we rally, in every exigency, that we have ONE COUNTRY,
ONE CONSTITUTION, ONE DESTINY.
* * * * *
Gentlemen, of our interior administration, the public lands constitute a
highly important part. This is a subject of great interest, and it ought
to attract much more attention than it has hitherto received, especially
from the people of the Atlantic States. The public lands are public
property. They belong to the people of all the States. A vast portion
of them is composed of territories which were ceded by individual States
to the United States, after the close of the Revolutionary war, and
before the adoption of the present Constitution. The history of these
cessions, and the reasons for making them, are familiar to you. Some of
the Old Thirteen possessed large tracts of unsettled lands within their
chartered limits. The Revolution had established their title to these
lands, and as the Revolution had been brought about by the common
treasure and the common blood of all the Colonies, it was thought not
unreasonable that these unsettled lands should be transferred to the
United States, to pay the debt created by the war, and afterwards to
remain as a fund for the use of all the States. This is the well-known
origin of the title possessed by the United States to lands northwest of
the River Ohio.
By treaties with France and Spain, Louisiana and Florida, containing
many millions of acres of public land, have been since acquired. The
cost of these acquisitions was paid, of course, by the general
government, and was thus a charge upon the whole people. The public
lands, therefore, all and singular, are national property; granted to
the United States, purchased by the United States, paid for by all the
people of the United States.
The idea, that, when a new State is created, the public lands lying
within her territory become the property of such new State in
consequence of her sovereignty, is too preposterous for serious
refutation. Such notions have heretofore been advanced in Congress, but
nobody has sustained them. They were rejected and abandoned, although
one cannot say whether they may not be revived, in consequence of recent
propositions which have been made in the Senate. The new States are
admitted on express conditions, recognizing, to the fullest extent, the
right of the United States to the public lands within their borders; and
it is no more reasonable to contend that some indefinite idea of State
sovereignty overrides all these stipulations, and makes the lands the
property of the States, against the provisions and conditions of their
own constitution, and the Constitution of the United States, than it
would be, that a similar doctrine entitled the State of New York to the
money collected at the custom-house in this city; since it is no more
inconsistent with sovereignty that one government should hold lands,
for the purpose of sale, within the territory of another, than it is
that it should lay and collect taxes and duties within such territory.
Whatever extravagant pretensions may have been set up heretofore, there
was not, I suppose, an enlightened man in the whole West, who insisted
on any such right in the States, when the proposition to cede the lands
to the States was made, in the late session of Congress. The public
lands being, therefore the common property of all the people of all the
States, I shall never consent to give them away to particular States, or
to dispose of them otherwise than for the general good, and the general
use of the whole country.
I felt bound, therefore, on the occasion just alluded to, to resist at
the threshold a proposition to cede the public lands to the States in
which they lie, on certain conditions. I very much regretted the
introduction of such a measure, as its effect must be, I fear, only to
agitate what was well settled, and to disturb that course of proceeding
in regard to the public lands, which forty years of experience have
shown to be so wise, and so satisfactory in its operation, both to the
people of the old States and to those of the new.
But, Gentlemen, although the public lands are not to be given away, nor
ceded to particular States, a very liberal policy in regard to them
ought certainly to prevail. Such a policy has prevailed, and I have
steadily supported it, and shall continue to support it so long as I may
remain in public life. The main object, in regard to these lands, is
undoubtedly to settle them, so fast as the growth of our population, and
its augmentation by emigration, may enable us to settle them.
The lands, therefore, should be sold, at a low price; and, for one, I
have never doubted the right or expediency of granting portions of the
lands themselves, or of making grants of money, for objects of internal
improvement, connected with them.
I have always supported liberal appropriations for the purpose of
opening communications to and through these lands, by common roads,
canals, and railroads; and where lands of little value have been long in
market, and, on account of their indifferent quality are not likely to
command a common price, I know no objection to a reduction of price, as
to such lands, so that they may pass into private ownership. Nor do I
feel any objections to removing those restraints which prevent the
States from taxing the lands for five years after they are sold. But
while, in these and all other respects, I am not only reconciled to a
liberal policy, but espouse it and support it, and have constantly done
so, I still hold the national domain to be the general property of the
country, confided to the care of Congress, and which Congress is
solemnly bound to protect and preserve for the common good.
The benefit derived from the public lands, after all, is, and must
be, in the greatest degree, enjoyed by those who buy them and settle
upon them. The original price paid to government constitutes but a small
part of their actual value. Their immediate rise in value, in the
hands of the settler, gives him competence. He exercises a power of
selection over a vast region of fertile territory, all on sale at the
same price, and that price an exceedingly low one. Selection is no
sooner made, cultivation is no sooner begun, and the first furrow
turned, than he already finds himself a man of property. These are the
advantages of Western emigrants and Western settlers; and they are
such, certainly, as no country on earth ever before afforded to her
citizens. This opportunity of purchase and settlement, this certainty
of enhanced value, these sure means of immediate competence and
ultimate wealth,--all these are the rights and the blessings of the
people of the West, and they have my hearty wishes for their full and
perfect enjoyment.
I desire to see the public lands cultivated and occupied. I desire the
growth and prosperity of the West, and the fullest development of its
vast and extraordinary resources. I wish to bring it near to us, by
every species of useful communication. I see, not without admiration and
amazement, but yet without envy or jealousy, States of recent origin
already containing more people than Massachusetts. These people I know
to be part of ourselves; they have proceeded from the midst of us, and
we may trust that they are not likely to separate themselves, in
interest or in feeling, from their kindred, whom they have left on the
farms and around the hearths of their common fathers.
A liberal policy, a sympathy with its interests, an enlightened and
generous feeling of participation in its prosperity, are due to the
West, and will be met, I doubt not, by a return of sentiments equally
cordial and equally patriotic.
Gentlemen, the general question of revenue is very much connected with
this subject of the public lands, and I will therefore, in a very few
words, express my views on that point.
The revenue involves not only the supply of the treasury with money, but
the question of protection to manufactures. On these connected subjects,
therefore, Gentlemen, as I have promised to keep nothing back, I will
state my opinions plainly, but very shortly.
I am in favor of such a revenue as shall be equal to all the just and
reasonable wants of the government; and I am decidedly opposed to all
collection or accumulation of revenue beyond this point. An extravagant
government expenditure, and unnecessary accumulation in the treasury,
are both, of all things, to be most studiously avoided.
I am in favor of protecting American industry and labor, not only as
employed in large manufactories, but also, and more especially, as
employed in the various mechanic arts, carried on by persons of small
capitals, and living by the earnings of their own personal industry.
Every city in the Union, and none more than this, would feel severely
the consequences of departing from the ancient and continued policy of
the government respecting this last branch of protection. If duties were
to be abolished on hats, boots, shoes, and other articles of leather,
and on the articles fabricated of brass, tin, and iron, and on
ready-made clothes, carriages, furniture, and many similar articles,
thousands of persons would be immediately thrown out of employment in
this city, and in other parts of the Union. Protection, in this respect,
of our own labor against the cheaper, ill-paid, half-fed, and pauper
labor of Europe, is, in my opinion, a duty which the country owes to its
own citizens. I am, therefore, decidedly, for protecting our own
industry and our own labor.
In the next place, Gentlemen, I am of opinion, that, with no more than
usual skill in the application of the well-tried principles of
discriminating and specific duties, all the branches of national
industry may be protected, without imposing such duties on imports as
shall overcharge the treasury.
And as to the revenues arising from the sales of the public lands, I am
of opinion that they ought to be set apart for the use of the States.
The States need the money. The government of the United States does not
need it. Many of the States have contracted large debts for objects of
internal improvement; and others of them have important objects which
they would wish to accomplish. The lands were originally granted for the
use of the several States; and now that their proceeds are not necessary
for the purposes of the general government, I am of opinion that they
should go to the States, and to the people of the States, upon an equal
principle. Set apart, then, the proceeds of the public lands for the use
of the States; supply the treasury from duties on imports; apply to
these duties a just and careful discrimination, in favor of articles
produced at home by our own labor, and thus support, to a fair extent,
our own manufactures. These, Gentlemen, appear to me to be the general
outlines of that policy which the present condition of the country
requires us to adopt.
* * * * *
Gentlemen, proposing to express opinions on the principal subjects of
interest at the present moment, it is impossible to overlook the
delicate question which has arisen from events which have happened in
the late Mexican province of Texas. The independence of that province
has now been recognized by the government of the United States. Congress
gave the President the means, to be used when he saw fit, of opening a
diplomatic intercourse with its government, and the late President
immediately made use of those means.
I saw no objection, under the circumstances, to voting an appropriation
to be used when the President should think the proper time had come; and
he deemed, very promptly, it is true, that the time had already arrived.
Certainly, Gentlemen, the history of Texas is not a little wonderful. A
very few people, in a very short time, have established a government for
themselves, against the authority of the parent state; and this
government, it is generally supposed, there is little probability, at
the present moment, of the parent state being able to overturn.
This government is, in form, a copy of our own. It is an American
constitution, substantially after the great American model. We all,
therefore, must wish it success; and there is no one who will more
heartily rejoice than I shall, to see an independent community,
intelligent, industrious, and friendly towards us, springing up, and
rising into happiness, distinction, and power, upon our own principles
of liberty and government.
But it cannot be disguised, Gentlemen, that a desire, or an intention,
is already manifested to annex Texas to the United States. On a subject
of such mighty magnitude as this, and at a moment when the public
attention is drawn to it, I should feel myself wanting in candor, if I
did not express my opinion; since all must suppose that, on such a
question, it is impossible that I should be without some opinion.
I say then, Gentlemen, in all frankness, that I see objections, I think
insurmountable objections, to the annexation of Texas to the United
States. When the Constitution was formed, it is not probable that either
its framers or the people ever looked to the admission of any States
into the Union, except such as then already existed, and such as should
be formed out of territories then already belonging to the United
States. Fifteen years after the adoption of the Constitution, however,
the case of Louisiana arose. Louisiana was obtained by treaty with
France, who had recently obtained it from Spain; but the object of this
acquisition, certainly, was not mere extension of territory. Other great
political interests were connected with it. Spain, while she possessed
Louisiana, had held the mouths of the great rivers which rise in the
Western States, and flow into the Gulf of Mexico. She had disputed our
use of these rivers already, and with a powerful nation in possession of
these outlets to the sea, it is obvious that the commerce of all the
West was in danger of perpetual vexation. The command of these rivers to
the sea was, therefore, the great object aimed at in the acquisition of
Louisiana. But that acquisition necessarily brought territory along with
it, and three States now exist, formed out of that ancient province.
A similar policy, and a similar necessity, though perhaps not entirely
so urgent, led to the acquisition of Florida.
Now, no such necessity, no such policy, requires the annexation of
Texas. The accession of Texas to our territory is not necessary to the
full and complete enjoyment of all which we already possess. Her case,
therefore, stands upon a footing entirely different from that of
Louisiana and Florida. There being no necessity for extending the limits
of the Union in that direction, we ought, I think, for numerous and
powerful reasons, to be content with our present boundaries.
Gentlemen, we all see that, by whomsoever possessed, Texas is likely to
be a slave-holding country; and I frankly avow my entire unwillingness
to do any thing that shall extend the slavery of the African race on
this continent, or add other slave-holding States to the Union. When I
say that I regard slavery in itself as a great moral, social, and
political evil, I only use language which has been adopted by
distinguished men, themselves citizens of slave-holding States. I shall
do nothing, therefore, to favor or encourage its further extension. We
have slavery already amongst us. The Constitution found it in the Union;
it recognized it, and gave it solemn guaranties. To the full extent of
these guaranties we are all bound, in honor, in justice, and by the
Constitution. All the stipulations contained in the Constitution in
favor of the slave-holding States which are already in the Union ought
to be fulfilled, and, so far as depends on me, shall be fulfilled, in
the fullness of their spirit and to the exactness of their letter.
Slavery, as it exists in the States, is beyond the reach of Congress. It
is a concern of the States themselves; they have never submitted it to
Congress, and Congress has no rightful power over it. I shall concur,
therefore, in no act, no measure, no menace, no indication of purpose,
which shall interfere or threaten to interfere with the exclusive
authority of the several States over the subject of slavery as it exists
within their respective limits. All this appears to me to be matter of
plain and imperative duty.
But when we come to speak of admitting new States, the subject assumes
an entirely different aspect. Our rights and our duties are then both
different.
The free States, and all the States, are then at liberty to accept or to
reject. When it is proposed to bring new members into this political
partnership, the old members have a right to say on what terms such new
partners are to come in, and what they are to bring along with them. In
my opinion, the people of the United States will not consent to bring
into the Union a new, vastly extensive, and slave-holding country, large
enough for half a dozen or a dozen States. In my opinion, they ought not
to consent to it. Indeed, I am altogether at a loss to conceive what
possible benefit any part of this country can expect to derive from such
annexation. Any benefit to any part is at least doubtful and uncertain;
the objections are obvious, plain, and strong. On the general question
of slavery, a great portion of the community is already strongly
excited. The subject has not only attracted attention as a question of
politics, but it has struck a far deeper-toned chord. It has arrested
the religious feeling of the country; it has taken strong hold on the
consciences of men. He is a rash man, indeed, and little conversant with
human nature, and especially has he a very erroneous estimate of the
character of the people of this country, who supposes that a feeling of
this kind is to be trifled with or despised. It will assuredly cause
itself to be respected. It may be reasoned with, it may be made willing,
I believe it is entirely willing, to fulfil all existing engagements and
all existing duties, to uphold and defend the Constitution as it is
established, with whatever regrets about some provisions which it does
actually contain. But to coerce it into silence, to endeavor to restrain
its free expression, to seek to compress and confine it, warm as it is,
and more heated as such endeavors would inevitably render it,--should
this be attempted, I know nothing, even in the Constitution or in the
Union itself, which would not be endangered by the explosion which might
follow.
I see, therefore, no political necessity for the annexation of Texas to
the Union; no advantages to be derived from it; and objections to it of
a strong, and, in my judgment, decisive character.
I believe it to be for the interest and happiness of the whole Union to
remain as it is, without diminution and without addition.
* * * * *
Gentleman, I pass to other subjects. The rapid advancement of the
executive authority is a topic which has already been alluded to.
I believe there is serious cause of alarm from this source. I believe
the power of the executive has increased, is increasing, and ought
now to be brought back within its ancient constitutional limits. I
have nothing to do with the motives which have led to those acts,
which I believe to have transcended the boundaries of the Constitution.
Good motives may always be assumed, as bad motives may always be
imputed. Good intentions will always be pleaded for every assumption
of power; but they cannot justify it, even if we were sure that they
existed. It is hardly too strong to say, that the Constitution was
made to guard the people against the dangers of good intention,
real or pretended. When bad intentions are boldly avowed, the people
will promptly take care of themselves. On the other hand, they will
always be asked why they should resist or question that exercise of
power which is so fair in its object, so plausible and patriotic in
appearance, and which has the public good alone confessedly in view?
Human beings, we may be assured, will generally exercise power when
they can get it; and they will exercise it most undoubtedly, in
popular governments, under pretences of public safety or high public
interest. It may be very possible that good intentions do really
sometimes exist when constitutional restraints are disregarded. There
are men, in all ages, who mean to exercise power usefully; but who
mean to exercise it. They mean to govern well; but they mean to
govern. They promise to be kind masters; but they mean to be masters.
They think there need be but little restraint upon themselves. Their
notion of the public interest is apt to be quite closely connected
with their own exercise of authority. They may not, indeed, always
understand their own motives. The love of power may sink too deep in
their own hearts even for their own scrutiny, and may pass with
themselves for mere patriotism and benevolence.
A character has been drawn of a very eminent citizen of Massachusetts,
of the last age, which, though I think it does not entirely belong to
him, yet very well describes a certain class of public men. It was said
of this distinguished son of Massachusetts, that in matters of politics
and government he cherished the most kind and benevolent feelings
towards the whole earth. He earnestly desired to see all nations well
governed; and to bring about this happy result, he wished that the
United States might govern the rest of the world; that Massachusetts
might govern the United States; that Boston might govern Massachusetts;
and as for himself, his own humble ambition would be satisfied by
governing the little town of Boston.
* * * * *
I do not intend, Gentlemen, to commit so unreasonable a trespass on your
patience as to discuss all those cases in which I think executive power
has been unreasonably extended. I shall only allude to some of them,
and, as being earliest in the order of time, and hardly second to any
other in importance, I mention the practice of removal from all
offices, high and low, for opinion's sake, and on the avowed ground of
giving patronage to the President; that is to say, of giving him the
power of influencing men's political opinions and political conduct, by
hopes and by fears addressed directly to their pecuniary interests. The
great battle on this point was fought, and was lost, in the Senate of
the United States, in the last session of Congress under Mr. Adams's
administration. After General Jackson was known to be elected, and
before his term of office began, many important offices became vacant,
by the usual causes of death and resignation. Mr. Adams, of course,
nominated persons to fill these vacant offices. But a majority of the
Senate was composed of the friends of General Jackson; and, instead of
acting on these nominations, and filling the vacant offices with
ordinary promptitude, the nominations were postponed to a day beyond the
4th of March, for the purpose, openly avowed, of giving the patronage of
the appointments to the President who was then coming into office. When
the new President entered on his office, he withdrew these nominations,
and sent in nominations of his own friends in their places. I was of
opinion then, and am of opinion now, that that decision of the Senate
went far to unfix the proper balance of the government. It conferred on
the President the power of rewards for party purposes, or personal
purposes, without limit or control. It sanctioned, manifestly and
plainly, that exercise of power which Mr. Madison had said would deserve
impeachment; and it completely defeated one great object, which we are
told the framers of the Constitution contemplated, in the manner of
forming the Senate; that is, that the Senate might be a body not
changing with the election of a President, and therefore likely to be
able to hold over him some check or restraint in regard to bringing his
own friends and partisans into power with him, and thus rewarding their
services to him at the public expense.
The debates in the Senate, on these questions, were long continued and
earnest. They were of course in secret session, but the opinions of
those members who opposed this course have all been proved true by the
result. The contest was severe and ardent, as much so as any that I have
ever partaken in; and I have seen some service in that sort of warfare.
Gentlemen, when I look back to that eventful moment, when I remember who
those were who upheld this claim for executive power, with so much zeal
and devotion, as well as with such great and splendid abilities, and
when I look round now, and inquire what has become of these gentlemen,
where they have found themselves at last, under the power which they
thus helped to establish, what has become now of all their respect,
trust, confidence, and attachment, how many of them, indeed, have not
escaped from being broken and crushed under the weight of the wheels of
that engine which they themselves set in motion. I feel that an edifying
lesson may be read by those who, in the freshness and fullness of party
zeal, are ready to confer the most dangerous power, in the hope that
they and their friends may bask in its sunshine, while enemies only
shall be withered by its frown.
I will not go into the mention of names. I will give no enumeration of
persons; but I ask you to turn your minds back, and recollect who the
distinguished men were who supported, in the Senate, General Jackson's
administration for the first two years; and I will ask you what you
suppose they think now of that power and that discretion which they so
freely confided to executive hands. What do they think of the whole
career of that administration, the commencement of which, and indeed the
existence of which, owed so much to their own great exertions?
* * * * *
In addition to the establishment of this power of unlimited and
causeless removal, another doctrine has been put forth, more vague, it
is true, but altogether unconstitutional, and tending to like dangerous
results. In some loose, indefinite, and unknown sense, the President has
been called the _representative of the whole American people_. He has
called himself so repeatedly, and been so denominated by his friends a
thousand times. Acts, for which no specific authority has been found
either in the Constitution or the laws, have been justified on the
ground that the President is the representative of the whole American
people. Certainly, this is not constitutional language. Certainly, the
Constitution nowhere calls the President the universal representative of
the people. The constitutional representatives of the people are in the
House of Representatives, exercising powers of legislation. The
President is an executive officer, appointed in a particular manner, and
clothed with prescribed and limited powers. It may be thought to be of
no great consequence, that the President should call himself, or that
others should call him, the sole representative of all the people,
although he has no such appellation or character in the Constitution.
But, in these matters, words are things. If he is the people's
representative, and as such may exercise power, without any other grant,
what is the limit to that power? And what may not an unlimited
representative of the people do? When the Constitution expressly creates
representatives, as members of Congress, it regulates, defines, and
limits their authority. But if the executive chief magistrate, merely
because he is the executive chief magistrate, may assume to himself
another character, and call himself the representative of the whole
people, what is to limit or restrain this representative power in his
hands?
I fear, Gentlemen, that if these pretensions should be continued and
justified, we might have many instances of summary political logic, such
as I once heard in the House of Representatives. A gentleman, not now
living, wished very much to vote for the establishment of a Bank of the
United States, but he had always stoutly denied the constitutional power
of Congress to create such a bank. The country, however, was in a state
of great financial distress, from which such an institution, it was
hoped, might help to extricate it; and this consideration led the worthy
member to review his opinions with care and deliberation. Happily, on
such careful and deliberate review, he altered his former judgment. He
came, satisfactorily, to the conclusion that Congress might incorporate
a bank. The argument which brought his mind to this result was short,
and so plain and obvious, that he wondered how he should so long have
overlooked it. The power, he said, to create a bank, was either given to
Congress, or it was not given. Very well. If it was given, Congress of
course could exercise it; if it was not given, the people still retained
it, and in that case, Congress, as the representatives of the people,
might, upon an emergency, make free to use it.
Arguments and conclusions in substance like these, Gentlemen, will not
be wanting, if men of great popularity, commanding characters, sustained
by powerful parties, _and full of good intentions towards the public_,
may be permitted to call themselves the universal representatives of the
people.
But, Gentlemen, it is the _currency_, the currency of the country,--it
is this great subject, so interesting, so vital, to all classes of the
community, which has been destined to feel the most violent assaults of
executive power. The consequences are around us and upon us. Not
unforeseen, not unforetold, here they come, bringing distress for the
present, and fear and alarm for the future. If it be denied that the
present condition of things has arisen from the President's interference
with the revenue, the first answer is, that, when he did interfere, just
such consequences were predicted. It was then said, and repeated, and
pressed upon the public attention, that that interference must
necessarily produce derangement, embarrassment, loss of confidence, and
commercial distress. I pray you, Gentlemen, to recur to the debates of
1832, 1833, and 1834, and then to decide whose opinions have proved to
be correct. When the treasury experiment was first announced, who
supported, and who opposed it? Who warned the country against it? Who
were they who endeavored to stay the violence of party, to arrest the
hand of executive authority, and to convince the people that this
experiment was delusive; that its object was merely to increase
executive power, and that its effect, sooner or later, must be injurious
and ruinous? Gentlemen, it is fair to bring the opinions of political
men to the test of experience. It is just to judge of them by their
measures, and their opposition to measures; and for myself, and those
political friends with whom I have acted, on this subject of the
currency, I am ready to abide the test.
But before the subject of the currency, and its present most
embarrassing state, is discussed, I invite your attention, Gentlemen, to
the history of executive proceedings connected with it. I propose to
state to you a series of facts; not to argue upon them, not to _mystify_
them, nor to draw any unjust inference from them; but merely to state
the case, in the plainest manner, as I understand it. And I wish,
Gentlemen, that, in order to be able to do this in the best and most
convincing manner, I had the ability of my learned friend, (Mr. Ogden,)
whom you have all so often heard, and who usually states his case in
such a manner that, when stated, it is already very well argued.
Let us see, Gentlemen, what the train of occurrences has been in regard
to our revenue and finances; and when these occurrences are stated, I
leave to every man the right to decide for himself whether our present
difficulties have or have not arisen from attempts to extend the
executive authority. In giving this detail, I shall be compelled to
speak of the late Bank of the United States; but I shall speak of it
historically only. My opinion of its utility, and of the extraordinary
ability and success with which its affairs were conducted for many years
before the termination of its charter, is well known. I have often
expressed it, and I have not altered it. But at present I speak of the
bank only as it makes a necessary part in the history of events which I
wish now to recapitulate.
Mr. Adams commenced his administration in March, 1825. He had been
elected by the House of Representatives, and began his career as
President under a powerful opposition. From the very first day, he
was warmly, even violently, opposed in all his measures; and this
opposition, as we all know, continued without abatement, either in
force or asperity, through his whole term of four years. Gentlemen, I
am not about to say whether this opposition was well or ill founded,
just or unjust. I only state the fact as connected with other facts.
The Bank of the United States, during these four years of Mr. Adams's
administration, was in full operation. It was performing the fiscal
duties enjoined on it by its charter; it had established numerous
offices, was maintaining a large circulation, and transacting a vast
business in exchange. Its character, conduct, and manner of
administration were all well known to the whole country.
Now there are two or three things worthy of especial notice. One is,
that during the whole of this heated political controversy, from
1825 to 1829, the party which was endeavoring to produce a change of
administration in the general government brought no charge of political
interference against the Bank of the United States. If any thing, it
was rather a favorite with that party generally. Certainly, the party,
as a party, did not ascribe to it undue attachment to other parties,
or to the then existing administration. Another important fact is,
that, during the whole of the same period, those who had espoused the
cause of General Jackson, and who sought to bring about a revolution
under his name, did not propose the destruction of the bank, or its
discontinuance, as one of the objects which were to be accomplished
by the intended revolution. They did not tell the country that the bank
was unconstitutional; they did not declare it unnecessary; they did not
propose to get along without it, when they should come into power
themselves. If individuals entertained any such purposes, they kept them
much to themselves. The party, as a party, avowed none such. A third
fact, worthy of all notice, is, that during this period there was no
complaint about the state of the currency, either by the country
generally or by the party then in opposition.
In March, 1829, General Jackson was inaugurated as President. He came
into power on professions of reform. He announced reform of all abuses
to be the great and leading object of his future administration; and in
his inaugural address he pointed out the main subjects of this reform.
But the bank was not one of them. It was not said by him that the bank
was unconstitutional. It was not said that it was unnecessary or
useless. It was not said that it had failed to do all that had been
hoped or expected from it in regard to the currency.
In March, 1829, then, the bank stood well, very well, with the new
administration. It was regarded, so far as appears, as entirely
constitutional, free from political or party taint, and highly useful.
It had as yet found no place in the catalogue of abuses to be reformed.
But, Gentlemen, nine months wrought a wonderful change. New lights broke
forth before these months had rolled away; and the President, in his
message to Congress in December, 1829, held a very unaccustomed language
and manifested very unexpected purposes.
Although the bank had then five or six years of its charter unexpired,
he yet called the attention of Congress very pointedly to the subject,
and declared,--
1. That the constitutionality of the bank was well doubted by many;
2. That its utility or expediency was also well doubted;
3. That all must admit that it had failed to establish or maintain a
sound and uniform currency; and
4. That the true bank for the use of the government of the United States
would be a bank which should be founded on the revenues and credit of
the government itself.
These propositions appeared to me, at the time, as very extraordinary,
and the last one as very startling. A bank founded on the revenue and
credit of the government, and managed and administered by the executive,
was a conception which I had supposed no man holding the chief executive
power in his own hands would venture to put forth.
But the question now is, what had wrought this great change of feeling
and of purpose in regard to the bank. What events had occurred between
March and December that should have caused the bank, so constitutional,
so useful, so peaceful, and so safe an institution, in the first of
these months, to start up into the character of a monster, and become so
horrid and dangerous, in the last?
Gentlemen, let us see what the events were which had intervened. General
Jackson was elected in December, 1828. His term was to begin in March,
1829. A session of Congress took place, therefore, between his election
and the commencement of his administration.
Now, Gentlemen, the truth is, that during this session, and a little
before the commencement of the new administration, a disposition was
manifested by political men to interfere with the management of the
bank. Members of Congress undertook to nominate or recommend individuals
as directors in the branches, or offices, of the bank. They were kind
enough, sometimes, to make out whole lists, or tickets, and to send them
to Philadelphia, containing the names of those whose appointments would
be satisfactory to General Jackson's friends. Portions of the
correspondence on these subjects have been published in some of the
voluminous reports and other documents connected with the bank, but
perhaps have not been generally heeded or noticed. At first, the bank
merely declined, as gently as possible, complying with these and similar
requests. But like applications began to show themselves from many
quarters, and a very marked case arose as early as June, 1829. Certain
members of the Legislature of New Hampshire applied for a change in the
presidency of the branch which was established in that State. A member
of the Senate of the United States wrote both to the president of the
bank and to the Secretary of the Treasury, strongly recommending a
change, and in his letter to the Secretary hinting very distinctly at
political considerations as the ground of the movement. Other officers
in the service of the government took an interest in the matter, and
urged a change; and the Secretary himself wrote to the bank, suggesting
and recommending it. The time had come, then, for the bank to take its
position. It did take it; and, in my judgment, if it had not acted as it
did act, not only would those who had the care of it have been most
highly censurable, but a claim would have been yielded to, entirely
inconsistent with a government of laws, and subversive of the very
foundations of republicanism.
A long correspondence between the Secretary of the Treasury and the
president of the bank ensued. The directors determined that they
would not surrender either their rights or their duties to the
control or supervision of the executive government. They said they had
never appointed directors of their branches on political grounds, and
they would not remove them on such grounds. They had avoided politics.
They had sought for men of business, capacity, fidelity, and experience
in the management of pecuniary concerns. They owed duties, they said,
to the government, which they meant to perform, faithfully and
impartially, under all administrations; and they owed duties to the
stockholders of the bank, which required them to disregard political
considerations in their appointments. This correspondence ran along
into the fall of the year, and finally terminated in a stern and
unanimous declaration, made by the directors, and transmitted to the
Secretary of the Treasury, that the bank would continue to be
independently administered, and that the directors once for all refused
to submit to the supervision of the executive authority, in any of
its branches, in the appointment of local directors and agents. This
resolution decided the character of the future. Hostility towards the
bank, thenceforward, became the settled policy of the government; and
the message of December, 1829, was the clear announcement of that
policy. If the bank had appointed those directors, thus recommended by
members of Congress; if it had submitted all its appointments to the
supervision of the treasury; if it had removed the president of the
New Hampshire branch; if it had, in all things, showed itself a
complying, political, party machine, instead of an independent
institution;--if it had done this, I leave all men to judge whether such
an entire change of opinion, as to its constitutionality, its utility,
and its good effects on the currency, would have happened between
March and December.
From the moment in which the bank asserted its independence of treasury
control, and its elevation above mere party purposes, down to the end of
its charter, and down even to the present day, it has been the subject
to which the selectest phrases of party denunciation have been
plentifully applied.
But Congress manifested no disposition to establish a treasury bank.
On the contrary, it was satisfied, and so was the country, most
unquestionably, with the bank then existing. In the summer of 1832,
Congress passed an act for continuing the charter of the bank, by
strong majorities in both houses. In the House of Representatives, I
think, two thirds of the members voted for the bill. The President
gave it his negative; and as there were not two thirds of the
Senate, though a large majority were for it, the bill failed to become
a law.
But it was not enough that a continuance of the charter of the bank was
thus refused. It had the deposit of the public money, and this it was
entitled to by law, for the few years which yet remained of its
chartered term. But this it was determined it should not continue to
enjoy. At the commencement of the session of 1832-33, a grave and sober
doubt was expressed by the Secretary of the Treasury, in his official
communication, whether the public moneys were safe in the custody of the
bank! I confess, Gentlemen, when I look back to this suggestion, thus
officially made, so serious in its import, so unjust, if not well
founded, and so greatly injurious to the credit of the bank, and
injurious, indeed, to the credit of the whole country, I cannot but
wonder that any man of intelligence and character should have been
willing to make it. I read in it, however, the first lines of another
chapter. I saw an attempt was now to be made to remove the deposits of
the public money from the bank, and such an attempt was made that very
session. But Congress was not to be prevailed upon to accomplish the end
by its own authority. It was well ascertained that neither house would
consent to it. The House of Representatives, indeed, at the heel of the
session, decided against the proposition by a very large majority.
The legislative authority having been thus invoked, and invoked in vain,
it was resolved to stretch farther the long arm of executive power, and
by that arm to reach and strike the victim. It so happened that I was in
this city in May, 1833, and here learned, from a very authentic source,
that the deposits would be removed by the President's order; and in
June, as afterwards appeared, that order was given.
Now it is obvious, Gentlemen, that thus far the changes in our financial
and fiscal system were effected, not by Congress, but by the executive;
not by law, but by the will and the power of the President. Congress
would have continued the charter of the bank; but the President
negatived the bill. Congress was of opinion that the deposits ought not
to be removed; but the President removed them. Nor was this all. The
public moneys being withdrawn from the custody which the law had
provided, by executive power alone, that same power selected the places
for their future keeping. Particular banks, existing under State
charters, were chosen. With these especial and particular arrangements
were made, and the public moneys were deposited in their vaults.
Henceforward these selected banks were to operate on the revenue and
credit of the government; and thus the original scheme, promulgated in
the annual message of December, 1829, was substantially carried into
effect. Here were banks chosen by the treasury; all the arrangements
with them made by the treasury; a set of duties to be performed by them
to the treasury prescribed; and these banks were to hold the whole
proceeds of the public revenue. In all this, Congress had neither part
nor lot. No law had caused the removal of the deposits; no law had
authorized the selection of deposit State banks; no law had prescribed
the terms on which the revenues should be placed in such banks. From the
beginning of the chapter to the end, it was all executive edict. And
now, Gentlemen, I ask if it be not most remarkable, that, in a country
professing to be under a government of laws, such great and important
changes in one of its most essential and vital interests should be
brought about without any change of law, without any enactment of the
legislature whatever? Is such a power trusted to the executive of any
government in which the executive is separated, by clear and
well-defined lines, from the legislative department? The currency of the
country stands on the same general ground as the commerce of the
country. Both are intimately connected, and both are subjects of legal,
not of executive, regulation.
It is worthy of notice, that the writers of the Federalist, in
discussing the powers which the Constitution conferred on the President,
made it matter of commendation, that it withdraws this subject
altogether from his grasp. "He can prescribe no rules," say they,
"concerning the commerce or _currency_ of the country." And so we have
been all taught to think, under all former administrations. But we have
now seen that the President, and the President alone, does prescribe the
rule concerning the currency. He makes it, and he alters it. He makes
one rule for one branch of the revenue, and another rule for another. He
makes one rule for the citizen of one State, and another for the citizen
of another State. This, it is certain, is one part of the treasury order
of July last.
But at last Congress interfered, and undertook to regulate the deposits
of the public moneys. It passed the law of July, 1836, placing the
subject under legal control, restraining the power of the executive,
subjecting the banks to liabilities and duties, on the one hand, and
securing them against executive favoritism, on the other. But this law
contained another important provision; which was, that all the money in
the treasury, beyond what was necessary for the current expenditures of
the government, should be deposited with the States. This measure passed
both houses by very unusual majorities, yet it hardly escaped a veto. It
obtained only a cold assent, a slow, reluctant, and hesitating approval;
and an early moment was seized to array against it a long list of
objections. But the law passed. The money in the treasury beyond the sum
of five millions was to go to the States. It has so gone, and the
treasury for the present is relieved from the burden of a surplus. But
now observe other coincidences. In the annual message of December, 1835,
the President quoted the fact of the rapidly increasing sale of the
public lands as proof of high national prosperity. He alluded to that
subject, certainly with much satisfaction, and apparently in something
of the tone of exultation. There was nothing said about monopoly, not a
word about speculation, not a word about over-issues of paper, to pay
for the lands. All was prosperous, all was full of evidence of a wise
administration of government, all was joy and triumph.
But the idea of a deposit or distribution of the surplus money with the
people suddenly damped this effervescing happiness. The color of the
rose was gone, and every thing now looked gloomy and black. Now no more
felicitation or congratulation, on account of the rapid sales of the
public lands; no more of this most decisive proof of national prosperity
and happiness. The executive Muse takes up a melancholy strain. She
sings of monopolies, of speculation, of worthless paper, of loss both of
land and money, of the multiplication of banks, and the danger of paper
issues; and the end of the canto, the catastrophe, is, that lands shall
no longer be sold but for gold and silver alone. The object of all this
is clear enough. It was to diminish the income from the public lands. No
desire for such a diminution had been manifested, so long as the money
was supposed to be likely to remain in the treasury. But a growing
conviction that some other disposition must be made of the surplus,
awakened attention to the means of preventing that surplus.
Toward the close of the last session, Gentlemen, a proposition was
brought forward in Congress for such an alteration of the law as should
admit payment for public lands to be made in nothing but gold and
silver. The mover voted for his own proposition; but I do not recollect
that any other member concurred in the vote. The proposition was
rejected at once; but, as in other cases, that which Congress refused to
do, the executive power did. Ten days after Congress adjourned, having
had this matter before it, and having refused to act upon it by making
any alteration in the existing laws, a treasury order was issued,
commanding that very thing to be done which Congress had been requested
and had refused to do. Just as in the case of the removal of the
deposits, the executive power acted in this case also against the known,
well understood, and recently expressed will of the representatives of
the people. There never has been a moment when the legislative will
would have sanctioned the object of that order; probably never a moment
in which any twenty individual members of Congress would have concurred
in it. The act was done without the assent of Congress, and against the
well-known opinion of Congress. That act altered the law of the land, or
purported to alter it, against the well-known will of the law-making
power.
For one, I confess I see no authority whatever in the Constitution, or
in any law, for this treasury order. Those who have undertaken to
maintain it have placed it on grounds, not only different, but
inconsistent and contradictory. The reason which one gives, another
rejects; one confutes what another argues. With one it is the joint
resolution of 1816 which gave the authority; with another, it is the law
of 1820; with a third, it is the general superintending power of the
President; and this last argument, since it resolves itself into mere
power, without stopping to point out the sources of that power, is not
only the shortest, but in truth the most just. He is the most sensible,
as well as the most candid reasoner, in my opinion, who places this
treasury order on the ground of the pleasure of the executive, and stops
there. I regard the joint resolution of 1816 as mandatory; as
prescribing a legal rule; as putting this subject, in which all have so
deep an interest, beyond the caprice, or the arbitrary pleasure, or the
discretion, of the Secretary of the Treasury. I believe there is not the
slightest legal authority, either in that officer or in the President,
to make a distinction, and to say that paper may be received for debts
at the custom-house, but that gold and silver only shall be received at
the land offices. And now for the sequel.
At the commencement of the last session, as you know, Gentlemen, a
resolution was brought forward in the Senate for annulling and
abrogating this order, by Mr. Ewing, of Ohio, a gentleman of much
intelligence, of sound principles, of vigorous and energetic character,
whose loss from the service of the country I regard as a public
misfortune. The Whig members all supported this resolution, and all the
members, I believe, with the exception of some five or six, were very
anxious in some way to get rid of the treasury order. But Mr. Ewing's
resolution was too direct. It was deemed a pointed and ungracious attack
on executive polity. It must therefore be softened, modified, qualified,
made to sound less harsh to the ears of men in power, and to assume a
plausible, polished, inoffensive character. It was accordingly put into
the plastic hands of friends of the executive to be moulded and
fashioned, so that it might have the effect of ridding the country of
the obnoxious order, and yet not appear to question executive
infallibility. All this did not answer. The late President is not a man
to be satisfied with soft words; and he saw in the measure, even as it
passed the two houses, a substantial repeal of the order. He is a man of
boldness and decision; and he respects boldness and decision in others.
If you are his friend, he expects no flinching; and if you are his
adversary, he respects you none the less for carrying your opposition to
the full limits of honorable warfare. Gentlemen, I most sincerely regret
the course of the President in regard to this bill, and certainly most
highly disapprove it. But I do not suffer the mortification of having
attempted to disguise and garnish it, in order to make it acceptable,
and of still finding it thrown back in my face. All that was obtained by
this ingenious, diplomatic, and over-courteous mode of enacting a law,
was a response from the President and the Attorney-General, that the
bill in question was obscure, ill penned, and not easy to be understood.
The bill, therefore, was neither approved nor negatived. If it had been
approved, the treasury order would have been annulled, though in a
clumsy and objectionable manner. If it had been negatived, and returned
to Congress, no doubt it would have been passed by two thirds of both
houses, and in that way have become a law, and abrogated the order. But
it was not approved, it was not returned; it was retained. It had passed
the Senate in season; it had been sent to the House in season; but there
it was suffered to lie so long without being called up, that it was
completely in the power of the President when it finally passed that
body; since he is not obliged to return bills which he does not approve,
if not presented to him ten days before the end of the session. The bill
was lost, therefore, and the treasury order remains in force. Here again
the representatives of the people, in both houses of Congress, by
majorities almost unprecedented, endeavored to abolish this obnoxious
order. On hardly any subject, indeed, has opinion been so unanimous,
either in or out of Congress. Yet the order remains.
And now, Gentlemen, I ask you, and I ask all men who have not
voluntarily surrendered all power and all right of thinking for
themselves, whether, from 1832 to the present moment, the executive
authority has not effectually superseded the power of Congress, thwarted
the will of the representatives of the people, and even of the people
themselves, and taken the whole subject of the currency into its own
grasp? In 1832, Congress desired to continue the bank of the United
States, and a majority of the people desired it also; but the President
opposed it, and his will prevailed. In 1833, Congress refused to remove
the deposits; the President resolved upon it, however, and his will
prevailed. Congress has never been willing to make a bank founded on the
money and credit of the government, and administered, of course, by
executive hands; but this was the President's object, and he attained
it, in a great measure, by the treasury selection of deposit banks. In
this particular, therefore, to a great extent, his will prevailed. In
1836, Congress refused to confine the receipts for public lands to gold
and silver; but the President willed it, and his will prevailed. In
1837, both houses of Congress, by more than two thirds, passed a bill
for restoring the former state of things by annulling the treasury
order; but the President willed, notwithstanding, that the order should
remain in force, and his will again prevailed. I repeat the question,
therefore, and I would put it earnestly to every intelligent man, to
every lover of our constitutional liberty, are we under the dominion of
the law? or has the effectual government of the country, at least in all
that regards the great interest of the currency, been in a single hand?
* * * * *
Gentlemen, I have done with the narrative of events and measures. I have
done with the history of these successive steps, in the progress of
executive power, towards a complete control over the revenue and the
currency. The result is now all before us. These pretended reforms,
these extraordinary exercises of power from an extraordinary zeal for
the good of the people, what have they brought us to?
In 1829, the currency was declared to be _neither sound nor uniform_; a
proposition, in my judgment, altogether at variance with the fact,
because I do not believe there ever was a country of equal extent, in
which paper formed any part of the circulation, that possessed a
currency so sound, so uniform, so convenient, and so perfect in all
respects, as the currency of this country, at the moment of the delivery
of that message, in 1829.
But how is it now? Where has the improvement brought it? What has reform
done? What has the great cry for hard money accomplished? Is the
currency _uniform_ now? Is money in New Orleans now as good, or nearly
so, as money in New York? Are exchanges at par, or only at the same low
rates as in 1829 and other years? Every one here knows that all the
benefits of this experiment are but injury and oppression; all this
reform, but aggravated distress.
And as to the _soundness_ of the currency, how does that stand? Are the
causes of alarm less now than in 1829? Is there less bank paper in
circulation? Is there less fear of a general catastrophe? Is property
more secure, or industry more certain of its reward? We all know,
Gentlemen, that, during all this pretended warfare against all banks,
banks have vastly increased. Millions upon millions of bank paper have
been added to the circulation. Everywhere, and nowhere so much as where
the present administration and its measures have been most zealously
supported, banks have multiplied under State authority, since the decree
was made that the Bank of the United States should be suffered to
expire. Look at Mississippi, Missouri, Louisiana, Virginia, and other
States. Do we not see that banking capital and bank paper are enormously
increasing? The opposition to banks, therefore, so much professed,
whether it be real or whether it be but pretended, has not restrained
either their number or their issues of paper. Both have vastly
increased.
And now a word or two, Gentlemen, upon this hard-money scheme, and the
fancies and the delusions to which it has given birth. Gentlemen, this
is a subject of delicacy, and one which it is difficult to treat with
sufficient caution, in a popular and occasional address like this. I
profess to be a _bullionist_, in the usual and accepted sense of that
word. I am for a solid specie basis for our circulation, and for specie
as a part of the circulation, so far as it may be practicable and
convenient. I am for giving no value to paper, merely as paper. I abhor
paper; that is to say, irredeemable paper, paper that may not be
converted into gold or silver at the will of the holder. But while I
hold to all this, I believe, also, that an exclusive gold and silver
circulation is an utter impossibility in the present state of this
country and of the world. We shall none of us ever see it; and it is
credulity and folly, in my opinion, to act under any such hope or
expectation. The States will make banks, and these will issue paper; and
the longer the government of the United States neglects its duty in
regard to measures for regulating the currency, the greater will be the
amount of bank paper overspreading the country. Of this I entertain not
a particle of doubt.
While I thus hold to the absolute and indispensable necessity of gold
and silver, as the foundation of our circulation, I yet think nothing
more absurd and preposterous, than unnatural and strained efforts to
import specie. There is but so much specie in the world, and its amount
cannot be greatly or suddenly increased. Indeed, there are reasons for
supposing that its amount has recently diminished, by the quantity used
in manufactures, and by the diminished products of the mines. The
existing amount of specie, however, must support the paper circulations,
and the systems of currency, not of the United States only, but of other
nations also. One of its great uses is to pass from country to country,
for the purpose of settling occasional balances in commercial
transactions. It always finds its way, naturally and easily, to places
where it is needed for these uses. But to take extraordinary pains to
bring it where the course of trade does not bring it, where the state of
debt and credit does not require it to be, and then to endeavor, by
unnecessary and injurious regulations, treasury orders, accumulations at
the mint, and other contrivances, there to retain it, is a course of
policy bordering, as it appears to me, on political insanity. It is
boasted that we have seventy-five or eighty millions of specie now in
the country. But what more senseless, what more absurd, than this boast,
if there is a balance against us abroad, of which payment is desired
sooner than remittances of our own products are likely to make that
payment? What more miserable than to boast of having that which is not
ours, which belongs to others, and which the convenience of others, and
our own convenience also, require that they should possess? If Boston
were in debt to New York, would it be wise in Boston, instead of paying
its debt, to contrive all possible means of obtaining specie from the
New York banks, and hoarding it at home? And yet this, as I think, would
be precisely as sensible as the course which the government of the
United States at present pursues. We have, beyond all doubt, a great
amount of specie in the country, but it does not answer its accustomed
end, it does not perform its proper duty. It neither goes abroad to
settle balances against us, and thereby quiet those who have demands
upon us; nor is it so disposed of at home as to sustain the circulation
to the extent which the circumstances of the times require. A great part
of it is in the Western banks, in the land offices, on the roads
through the wilderness, on the passages over the Lakes, from the land
offices to the deposit banks, and from the deposit banks back to the
land offices. Another portion is in the hands of buyers and sellers of
specie; of men in the West, who sell land-office money to the new
settlers for a high premium. Another portion, again, is kept in private
hands, to be used when circumstances shall tempt to the purchase of
lands. And, Gentlemen, I am inclined to think, so loud has been the cry
about hard money, and so sweeping the denunciation of all paper, that
private holding, or hoarding, prevails to some extent in different parts
of the country. These eighty millions of specie, therefore, really do us
little good. We are weaker in our circulation, I have no doubt, our
credit is feebler, money is scarcer with us, at this moment, than if
twenty millions of this specie were shipped to Europe, and general
confidence thereby restored.
Gentlemen, I will not say that some degree of pressure might not have
come upon us, if the treasury order had not issued. I will not say
that there has not been over-trading, and over-production, and a too
great expansion of bank circulation. This may all be so, and the
last-mentioned evil, it was easy to foresee, was likely to happen when
the United States discontinued their own bank. But what I do say is,
that, acting upon the state of things as it actually existed, and is
now actually existing, the treasury order has been, and now is,
productive of great distress. It acts upon a state of things which gives
extraordinary force to its stroke, and extraordinary point to its
sting. It arrests specie, when the free use and circulation of specie
are most important; it cripples the banks, at a moment when the banks
more than ever need all their means. It makes the merchant unable to
remit, when remittance is necessary for his own credit, and for the
general adjustment of commercial balances. I am not now discussing
the general question, whether prices must not come down, and adjust
themselves anew to the amount of bullion existing in Europe and America.
I am dealing only with the measures of our own government on the
subject of the currency, and I insist that these measures have been
most unfortunate, and most ruinous in their effects on the ordinary
means of our circulation at home, and on our ability of remittance
abroad.
Their effects, too, on domestic exchanges, by deranging and misplacing
the specie which is in the country, are most disastrous. Let him who has
lent an ear to all these promises of a more uniform currency see how he
can now sell his draft on New Orleans or Mobile. Let the Northern
manufacturers and mechanics, those who have sold the products of their
labor to the South, and heretofore realized the prices with little loss
of exchange, let them try present facilities. Let them see what reform
of the currency has done for them. Let them inquire whether, in this
respect, their condition is better or worse than it was five or six
years ago.
Gentlemen, I hold this disturbance of the measure of value, and the
means of payment and exchange, this derangement, and, if I may so say,
this violation of the currency, to be one of the most unpardonable of
political faults. He who tampers with the currency robs labor of its
bread. He panders, indeed, to greedy capital, which is keen-sighted,
and may shift for itself; but he beggars labor, which is honest,
unsuspecting, and too busy with the present to calculate for the
future. The prosperity of the working classes lives, moves, and has
its being in established credit, and a steady medium of payment. All
sudden changes destroy it. Honest industry never comes in for any
part of the spoils in that scramble which takes place when the
currency of a country is disordered. Did wild schemes and projects
ever benefit the industrious? Did irredeemable bank paper ever enrich
the laborious? Did violent fluctuations ever do good to him who
depends on his daily labor for his daily bread? Certainly never. All
these things may gratify greediness for sudden gain, or the rashness
of daring speculation; but they can bring nothing but injury and
distress to the homes of patient industry and honest labor. Who are
they that profit by the present state of things? They are not the
many, but the few. They are speculators, brokers, dealers in money,
and lenders of money at exorbitant interest. Small capitalists are
crushed, and, their means being dispersed, as usual, in various parts of
the country, and this miserable policy having destroyed exchanges, they
have no longer either money or credit. And all classes of labor
partake, and must partake, in the same calamity. And what consolation
for all this is it, that the public lands are paid for in specie?
that, whatever embarrassment and distress pervade the country, the
Western wilderness is thickly sprinkled over with eagles and dollars?
that gold goes weekly from Milwaukie and Chicago to Detroit, and back
again from Detroit to Milwaukie and Chicago, and performs similar
feats of egress and regress in many other instances, in the Western
States? It is remarkable enough, that, with all this sacrifice of
general convenience, with all this sky-rending clamor for government
payments in specie, government, after all, never gets a dollar. So far
as I know, the United States have not now a single specie dollar in the
world. If they have, where is it? The gold and silver collected at the
land-offices is sent to the deposit banks; it is there placed to the
credit of the government, and thereby becomes the property of the
bank. The whole revenue of the government, therefore, after all,
consists in mere bank credits; that very sort of security which the
friends of the administration have so much denounced.
Remember, Gentlemen, in the midst of this deafening din against all
banks, that, if it shall create such a panic as shall shut up the banks,
it will shut up the treasury of the United States also.
Gentlemen, I would not willingly be a prophet of ill. I most devoutly
wish to see a better state of things; and I believe the repeal of the
treasury order would tend very much to bring about that better state of
things. And I am of opinion, that, sooner or later, the order will be
repealed. I think it must be repealed. I think the East, West, North,
and South will demand its repeal. But, Gentlemen, I feel it my duty to
say, that, if I should be disappointed in this expectation, I see no
immediate relief to the distresses of the community. I greatly fear,
even, that the worst is not yet.[107] I look for severer distresses; for
extreme difficulties in exchange, for far greater inconveniences in
remittance, and for a sudden fall in prices. Our condition is one which
is not to be tampered with, and the repeal of the treasury order, being
something which government can do, and which will do good, the public
voice is right in demanding that repeal. It is true, if repealed now,
the relief will come late. Nevertheless its repeal or abrogation is a
thing to be insisted on, and pursued, till it shall be accomplished.
This executive control over the currency, this power of discriminating,
by treasury order, between one man's debt and another man's debt, is a
thing not to be endured in a free country; and it should be the
constant, persisting demand of all true Whigs, "Rescind the illegal
treasury order, restore the rule of the law, place all branches of the
revenue on the same grounds, make men's rights equal, and leave the
government of the country where the Constitution leaves it, in the hands
of the representatives of the people in Congress." This point should
never be surrendered or compromised. Whatever is established, let it be
equal, and let it be legal. Let men know, to-day, what money may be
required of them to-morrow. Let the role be open and public, on the
pages of the statute-book, not a secret, in the executive breast.
Gentlemen, in the session which has now just closed, I have done my
utmost to effect a direct and immediate repeal of the treasury order.
I have voted for a bill anticipating the payment of the French and
Neapolitan indemnities by an advance from the treasury.
I have voted with great satisfaction for the restoration of duties on
goods destroyed in the great conflagration in this city.
I have voted for a deposit with the States of the surplus which may be
in the treasury at the end of the year. All these measures have failed;
and it is for you, and for our fellow-citizens throughout the country,
to decide whether the public interest would, or would not, have been
promoted by their success.
But I find, Gentlemen, that I am committing an unpardonable trespass on
your indulgent patience. I will pursue these remarks no further. And yet
I cannot persuade myself to take leave of you without reminding you,
with the utmost deference and respect, of the important part assigned to
you in the political concerns of your country, and of the great
influence of your opinions, your example, and your efforts upon the
general prosperity and happiness.
Whigs of New York! Patriotic citizens of this great metropolis! Lovers
of constitutional liberty, bound by interest and by affection to the
institutions of your country, Americans in heart and in principle!--you
are ready, I am sure, to fulfil all the duties imposed upon you by your
situation, and demanded of you by your country. You have a central
position; your city is the point from which intelligence emanates, and
spreads in all directions over the whole land. Every hour carries
reports of your sentiments and opinions to the verge of the Union. You
cannot escape the responsibility which circumstances have thrown upon
you. You must live and act, on a broad and conspicuous theatre, either
for good or for evil to your country. You cannot shrink from your public
duties; you cannot obscure yourselves, nor bury your talent. In the
common welfare, in the common prosperity, in the common glory of
Americans, you have a stake of value not to be calculated. You have an
interest in the preservation of the Union, of the Constitution, and of
the true principles of the government, which no man can estimate. You
act for yourselves, and for the generations that are to come after you;
and those who ages hence shall bear your names, and partake your blood,
will feel, in their political and social condition, the consequences of
the manner in which you discharge your political duties.
Having fulfilled, then, on your part and on mine, though feebly and
imperfectly on mine, the offices of kindness and mutual regard required
by this occasion, shall we not use it to a higher and nobler purpose?
Shall we not, by this friendly meeting, refresh our patriotism, rekindle
our love of constitutional liberty, and strengthen our resolutions of
public duty? Shall we not, in all honesty and sincerity, with pure and
disinterested love of country, as Americans, looking back to the renown
of our ancestors, and looking forward to the interests of our posterity,
here, to-night, pledge our mutual faith to hold on to the last to our
professed principles, to the doctrines of true liberty, and to the
Constitution of the country, let who will prove true, or who will prove
recreant? Whigs of New York! I meet you in advance, and give you my
pledge for my own performance of these duties, without qualification and
without reserve. Whether in public life or in private life, in the
Capitol or at home, I mean never to desert them. I mean never to forget
that I have a country, to which I am bound by a thousand ties; and the
stone which is to lie on the ground that shall cover me, shall not bear
the name of a son ungrateful to his native land.
FOOTNOTES
[106] A Speech delivered at Niblo's Saloon, in New York, on the 15th of
March, 1837.
[107] On the 10th of June following the delivery of this speech, all the
banks in the city of New York, by common consent, suspended the
payment of their notes in specie. On the next day, the same step
was taken by the banks of Boston and the vicinity, and the
example was followed by all the banks south of New York, as they
received intelligence of the suspension of specie payments in
that city. On the 15th of June, (just three months from the day
this speech was delivered,) President Van Buren issued his
proclamation calling an extra session of Congress for the first
Monday of September.
RECEPTION AT WHEELING.[108]
The following toast having been proposed,--"Our distinguished
guest,--his manly and untiring, though unsuccessful, efforts to
sustain the supremacy of the Constitution and the laws against the
encroachments of executive power, and to avert the catastrophe that
now impends over the country, have given him a new claim to the
gratitude of his countrymen, and added a new lustre to that fame
which was already imperishably identified with the history of our
institutions,"--Mr. Webster rose and responded, in substance, as
follows.
MR. CHAIRMAN AND FELLOW-CITIZENS:--I cannot be indifferent to the
manifestations of regard with which I have been greeted by you, nor can
I suffer any show of delicacy to prevent me from expressing my thanks
for your kindness.
I travel, Gentlemen, for the purpose of seeing the country, and of
seeing what constitutes the important part of every country, the people.
I find everywhere much to excite, and much to gratify admiration; and
the pleasure I experience is only diminished by remembering the
unparalleled state of distress which I have left behind me, and by the
apprehension, rather than the feeling, of severe evils, which I find to
exist wherever I go.
I cannot enable those who have not witnessed it to comprehend the full
extent of the suffering in the Eastern cities. It was painful, indeed,
to behold it. So many bankruptcies among great and small dealers, so
much property sacrificed, so many industrious men altogether broken up
in their business, so many families reduced from competence to want, so
many hopes crushed, so many happy prospects for ever clouded, and such
fearful looking for still greater calamities,--all united form such a
mass of evil as I had never expected to see, except as the result of
war, a pestilence, or some other external calamity.
I have no wish, in the present state of things, nor should I have,
indeed, if the state of things were different, to obtrude the expression
of my political sentiments on such of my fellow-citizens as I may happen
to meet; nor, on the other hand, have I any motive for concealing them,
or suppressing their expression, whenever others desire that I should
make them known. Indeed, on the great topics that now engage public
attention, I hope I may flatter myself that my opinions are already
known.
Recent evils have not at all surprised me, except that they have come
sooner and faster than I had anticipated. But, though not surprised, I
am afflicted; I feel any thing but pleasure in this early fulfilment of
my own predictions. Much injury is done, which the wisest future
counsels can never repair, and much more that can never be remedied but
by such counsels and by the lapse of time. From 1832 to the present
moment, I have foreseen this result. I may safely say I have foreseen
it, because I have foretold and proclaimed its approach in every
important discussion and debate in the public body of which I am a
member. In 1832, I happened to meet with a citizen of Wheeling, now
present, who has this day reminded me of what I then anticipated, as the
result of the measures which the administration appeared to be adopting
in regard to the currency. In the summer of the next year, 1833, I was
here, and suggested to friends what I knew to be resolved upon by the
executive, namely, the removal of the deposits of the public funds from
the Bank of the United States, which was announced two months
afterwards. That was the avowed and declared commencement of the
"experiment." You know, Gentlemen, the obloquy then and since cast upon
those of us who opposed this "experiment." You know that we have been
called bank agents, bank advocates, bank hirelings. You know that it has
been a thousand times said, that the experiment worked admirably, that
nothing could do better, that it was the highest possible evidence of
the political wisdom and sagacity of its contrivers, and that none
opposed it or doubted its efficiency but the wicked or the stupid. Well,
Gentlemen, here is the end, if this _is_ the end, of this notable
"experiment." Its singular wisdom has come to this; its fine workings
have wrought out an almost general bankruptcy.
Its lofty promises, its grandeur, its flashes, that threw other men's
sense and understanding back into the shade, where are they now? Here is
the "fine of fines and the recovery of recoveries." Its panics, its
scoffs, its jeers, its jests, its gibes at all former experience,--its
cry of "a new policy," which was so much to delight and astonish
mankind,--to this conclusion has it come at last.
"But yesterday, it might
Have stood against the world; now lies it there,
And none so poor to do it reverence!"
It is with no feelings of boasting or triumph, it is with no
disposition to arrogate superior wisdom or discernment, but it is with
mortification, with humiliation, with unaffected grief and affliction,
that I contemplate the condition of difficulty and distress to which
this country, so vigorous, so great, so enterprising, and so rich in
internal wealth, has been brought by the policy of her government.
We learn to-day that most of the Eastern banks have stopped payment, the
deposit banks as well as others. The experiment has exploded. That
bubble, which so many of us have all along regarded as the offspring of
conceit, presumption, and political quackery, has burst. A general
suspension of payment must be the result; a result which has come even
sooner than was predicted. Where is now that better currency that was
promised? Where is that specie circulation? Where are those rivers of
gold and silver, which were to fill the treasury of the government as
well as the pockets of the people? Has the government a single hard
dollar? Has the treasury any thing in the world but credit and deposits
in banks that have already suspended payment? How are public creditors
now to be paid in specie? How are the deposits, which the law requires
to be made with the States on the 1st of July, now to be made? We must
go back to the beginning, and take a new start. Every step in our
financial banking system, since 1832, has been a false step; it has been
a step which has conducted us farther and farther from the path of
safety.
The discontinuance of the national bank, the illegal removal of the
deposits, the accumulation of the public revenue in banks selected by
the executive, and for a long time subject to no legal regulation or
restraint, and finally the unauthorized and illegal treasury order, have
brought us where we are. The destruction of the national bank was the
signal for the creation of an unprecedented number of new State banks,
often with nominal capitals, out of all proportion to the business of
the quarters where they were established. These banks, lying under no
restraint from the general government or any of its institutions, issued
paper money corresponding to their own sense of their immediate
interests and hopes of gain. The deposit with the State banks of the
whole public revenue, then accumulated to a vast amount, and making this
deposit without any legal restraint or control whatever, increased both
the power and disposition of these banks for extensive issues. In this
way the government seems to have administered every possible provocation
to the banks to induce them to extend their circulation. It uniformly,
zealously, and successfully opposed the land bill, a most useful
measure, by which accumulation in the treasury would have been
prevented; and, as if it desired and sought this accumulation, it
finally resisted, with all its power, the deposit among the States. It
is urged as a reason for the present overthrow, that an extraordinary
spirit of speculation has gone abroad, and has been manifested
particularly and strongly in the endeavor to purchase the public lands;
but has not every act of the government directly encouraged this spirit?
It accumulated revenue which it did not need, all of which is left in
the deposit banks. The banks had money to lend, and there were enough
who were ready to borrow, for the purpose of purchasing the public lands
at government prices. The public treasury was thus made the great and
efficient means of effecting those purchases which have since been so
much denounced as extravagant speculation and extensive monopoly. These
purchasers borrowed the public money; they used the public money to buy
the public property; they speculated on the strength of the public
money; and while all this was going on, and every man saw it, the
administration resisted, to the utmost of its power, every attempt to
withdraw this money from the banks and from the hands of those
speculators, and distribute it among the people to whom it belonged.
If, then, there has been over-trading, the government has encouraged
it; if there have been rash speculations in the public lands, the
government has furnished the means out of the treasury. These
unprecedented sales of the public domain were boasted of as proofs of a
happy state of things, and of a wise administration of the government,
down to the moment when Congress, in opposition to executive wishes,
passed the distribution law, thus withdrawing the surplus revenue from
the deposit banks. The success of that measure compelled a change in the
executive policy, as the accumulation of a vast amount of money in the
treasury was no longer desirable. This is the most favorable motive to
which I can ascribe the treasury order of July. It is now said that that
order was issued for the purpose of enforcing a strict execution of the
law which forbids the allowance of credits upon purchases of the public
lands; but there was no such credit allowed before; not an hour was
given beyond the time of sale. In this respect, the order produces no
difference whatever. Its only effect is to require an immediate payment
in specie, whereas, before, an immediate payment in the bills of
specie-paying banks was demanded. There is no more credit in the one
case than in the other; and the government gets just as much specie in
one case as in the other; for no sooner is the specie, which the
purchaser is compelled to procure, often at great charge, paid to the
receiver, than it is sent to the deposit banks, and the government has
credit for it on the books of the bank; but the specie itself is again
sold by the bank, or disposed of as it sees fit. It is evident that the
government gets nothing by all this, though the purchasers of small
tracts are put to great trouble and expense. No one gains any thing but
the banks and the brokers. It is, moreover, most true that the art of
man could not have devised a plan more effectually to give to the large
purchasers or speculators a decided preference and advantage over small
purchasers, who bought for actual settlement, than the treasury order of
July, 1836. The stoppage of the banks, however, has now placed the
actual settler in a still more unfortunate situation. How is he to
obtain money to pay for his quarter-section? He must travel three or
four times as many miles for it as he has dollars to pay, even if he
should be able to obtain it at the end of that journey.
I will not say that other causes, at home and abroad, have not had an
agency in bringing about the present derangement. I know that
credits have been used beyond all former example. It is probable the
spirit of trade has been too highly excited, and that the pursuit of
business may have been pressed too fast and too far. All this I am
ready to admit. But instead of doing any thing to abate this tendency,
the government has been the prime instrument of fostering and
encouraging it. It has parted voluntarily, and by advice, with all
control over the actual currency of the country. It has given a free
and full scope to the spirit of banking; it has aided the spirit of
speculation with the public treasures; and it has done all this, in the
midst of loud-sounding promises of an exclusive specie medium, and a
professed detestation of all banking institutions.
It is vain, therefore, to say that the present state of affairs is
owing, not to the acts of government, but to other causes, over which
government could exercise no control. Much of it _is_ owing to the
course of the national government; and what is not so, is owing to
causes the operation of which government was bound in duty to use all
its legal powers to control.
Is there an intelligent man in the community, at this moment, who
believes that, if the Bank of the United States had been continued, if
the deposits had not been removed, if the specie circular had not been
issued, the financial affairs of the country would have been in as bad a
state as they now are? When certain consequences are repeatedly depicted
and foretold from particular causes, when the manner in which these
consequences will be produced is precisely pointed out beforehand, and
when the consequences come in the manner foretold, who will stand up and
declare, that, notwithstanding all this, there is no connection between
the cause and the consequence, and that all these effects are
attributable to some other causes, nobody knows what?
No doubt but we shall hear every cause but the true one assigned for the
present distress. It will be laid to the opposition in and out of
Congress; it will be laid to the bank; it will be laid to the merchants;
it will be laid to the manufacturers; it will be laid to the tariff; it
will be laid to the north star, or to the malign influence of the last
comet, whose tail swept near or across the orbit of our earth, before we
shall be allowed to ascribe it to its just, main causes, a tampering
with the currency, and an attempt to stretch executive power over a
subject not constitutionally within its reach.
We have heard, Gentlemen, of the suspension of some of the Eastern banks
only; but I fear the same course must be adopted by all the banks
throughout the country. The United States Bank, now a mere State
institution, with no public deposits, no aid from government, but, on
the contrary, long an object of bitter persecution by it, was, at our
last advices, still firm. But can we expect of that bank to make
sacrifices to continue specie payment? If it continue to do so now that
the deposit banks have stopped, the government, if possible, will draw
from it its last dollar, in order to keep up a pretence of making its
own payments in specie. I shall be glad if this institution find it
prudent and proper to hold out;[109] but as it owes no more duty to the
government than any other bank, and, of course, much less than the
deposit banks, I cannot see any ground for demanding from it efforts and
sacrifices to favor the government, which those holding the public
money, and owing duty to the government, are unwilling or unable to
make. Nor do I see how the New England banks can stand alone in the
general crash. I believe those in Massachusetts are very sound and
entirely solvent; I have every confidence in their ability to pay and I
shall rejoice if, amidst the present wreck, we find them able to
withstand the storm. At the same time, I confess I shall not be
disappointed, if they, seeing no public object to be attained
proportioned to the private loss, and individual sacrifice and ruin,
which must result from resorting to the means necessary to enable them
to hold out, should not be distinguished from their Southern and Western
neighbors.
I believe, Gentlemen, the "experiment" must go through. I believe every
part and portion of our country will have a satisfactory taste of the
"better currency." I believe we shall be blest again with the currency
of 1812, _when money was the only uncurrent species of property_. We
have, amidst all the distress that surrounds us, men in and out of
power, who condemn a national bank in every form, maintain the efficacy
and efficiency of State banks for domestic exchange, and, amidst all the
sufferings and terrors of the "experiment," cry out, that they are
establishing "a better currency." The "experiment,"--the experiment upon
what? The experiment of one man upon the happiness, the well-being,
and, I may almost say, upon the lives, of twelve millions of human
beings,--an "experiment" that found us in health, that found us with the
best currency on the face of the earth, the same from the North to the
South, from Boston to St. Louis, equalling silver or gold in any part of
our Union, and possessing the unlimited confidence of foreign countries,
and which leaves us crushed, ruined, without means at home, and without
credit abroad.
This word "experiment" appears likely to get into no enviable notoriety.
It may probably be held, in future, to signify any thing which is too
excruciating to be borne, like a pang of the rheumatism or an
extraordinary twinge of the gout. Indeed, from the experience we now
have, we may judge that the bad eminence of the Inquisition itself may
be superseded by it, and if one shall be hereafter stretched upon the
rack, or broken on the wheel, it may be said, while all his bones are
cracking, all his muscles snapping, all his veins are pouring, that he
is only passing into a better state through the delightful process of an
"experiment."
Gentlemen, you will naturally ask, Where is this to end, and what is
to be the remedy? These are questions of momentous importance; but
probably the proper moment has not come for considering this. We are yet
in the midst of the whirlwind. Every man's thoughts are turned to his
own immediate preservation. When the blast is over, and we have
breathing-time the country must take this subject, this all-important
subject of relief for the present and security for the future, into
its most serious consideration. It will, undoubtedly, first engage
the attention and wisdom of Congress. It will call on public men,
intrusted with public affairs, to lay aside party and private
preferences and prejudices, and unite in the great work of redeeming
the country from this state of disaster and disgrace. All that I mean
at present to say is, that the government of the United States stands
chargeable, in my opinion, with a gross dereliction from duty, in
leaving the currency of the country entirely at the mercy of others,
without seeking to exercise over it any control whatever. The _means_ of
exercising this control rest in the wisdom of Congress, but the duty I
hold to be imperative. It is a power that cannot be yielded to others
with safety to itself or to them. It might as well give up to the
States the power of making peace or war, and leave the twenty-six
independent sovereignties to select their own foes, raise their own
troops, and conclude their own terms of peace. It might as well leave
the States to impose their own duties and regulate their own terms and
treaties of commerce, as to give up control over the currency in which
all are interested.
The present government has been in operation forty-eight years. During
forty of these forty-eight years we have had a national institution
performing the duties of a fiscal agent to the government, and
exercising a most useful control over the domestic exchanges and over
the currency of the country. The first institution was chartered on the
ground that such an institution was _necessary_ to the safe and
economical administration of the treasury department in the collection
and disbursement of its revenue. The experience of the new government
had clearly proved this necessity. At that time, however, there were
those who doubted the power of Congress, under the provisions of the
Constitution, to incorporate a bank; but a majority of both houses were
of a different opinion. President Washington sanctioned the measure, and
among those who entertained doubts on the subject, the statesmen of most
weight and consideration in the Union, and whose opinions were entitled
to the highest respect, yielded to the opinion of Congress and the
country, and considered it a settled question. Among those who first
doubted of the power of the government to establish a national bank, was
one whose name should never be mentioned without respect, one for whom I
can say I feel as high a veneration as one man can or ought to feel for
another, one who was intimately associated with all the provisions of
the Constitution,--Mr. Madison. Yet, when Congress had decided on the
measure, by large majorities, when the President had approved it, when
the judicial tribunals had sanctioned it, when public opinion had
deliberately and decidedly confirmed it, _he_ looked on the subject as
definitely and finally settled. The reasoners of our day think
otherwise. No decision, no public sanction, no judgment of the
tribunals, is allowed to weigh against their respect for their own
opinions. They rush to the argument as to that of a new question,
despising all lights but that of their own unclouded sagacity, and
careless alike of the venerable living and of the mighty dead. They
poise this important question upon some small points of their own
slender logic, and decide it on the strength of their own unintelligible
metaphysics. It never enters into all their thoughts that this is a
question to be judged of on broad, comprehensive, and practical grounds;
still less does it occur to them that an exposition of the Constitution,
contemporaneous with its earliest existence, acted on for nearly half a
century, in which the original framers and government officers of the
highest note concurred, ought to have any weight in their decision, or
inspire them with the least doubt of the accuracy and soundness of their
own opinions. They soar so high in the regions of self-respect as to be
far beyond the reach of all such considerations.
For sound views upon the subject of a national bank, I would commend
you, Gentlemen, to the messages of Mr. Madison, and to his letter on the
subject. They are the views of a truly great man and a statesman.
As the first Bank of the United States had its origin in necessity, so
had the second; and, although there was something of misfortune, and
certainly something of mismanagement, in its early career, no candid and
intelligent man can, for a moment, doubt or deny its usefulness, or that
it fully accomplished the object for which it was created. Exchanges,
during all the later years of its existence, were easily effected, and a
currency the most uniform of any in the world existed throughout the
country. The opponents of these institutions did not deny that general
prosperity and a happy state of things existed at the time they were in
operation, but contended that equal prosperity would exist without them,
while specie would take the place of their issues as a circulating
medium. How have their words been verified? Both in the case of the
first bank and that of the last, a general suspension of specie payments
has happened in about a year from the time they were suffered to expire,
and a universal confusion and distrust prevailed. The charter of the
first bank expired in 1811, and all the State banks, south of New
England, stopped payment in 1812. The charter of the late bank expired
in March, 1836, and in May, 1837, a like distrust, and a like suspension
of the State banks, have taken place.
The same results, we may readily suppose, are attributable to the same
causes, and we must look to the experience and wisdom of the people and
of Congress to apply the requisite remedy. I will not say the only
remedy is a national bank; but I will say that, in my opinion the only
sure remedy for the evils that now prey upon us is the assumption, by
the delegates of the people in the national government, of some lawful
control over the finances of the nation, and a power of regulating its
currency.
* * * * *
Gentlemen, allow me again to express my thanks for the kindness you have
shown me this day, and in conclusion to assure you, that, though a
representative in the federal government of but a small section, when
compared with the vast territory that acknowledges allegiance to that
government, I shall never forget that I am acting for the whole country,
and, so far as I am capable, will pledge myself impartially to use every
exertion for that country's welfare.
FOOTNOTES
[108] A Speech delivered on the 17th of May, 1837, at a Public Dinner
given to Mr. Webster by the Citizens of Wheeling, Virginia.
[109] The mail of that day brought advice of its suspension. See the
note on page 378.
RECEPTION AT MADISON.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
The following account of Mr. Webster's visit to Madison, Indiana, is
taken from the "Republican Banner," of the 7th of June, 1837.
"DANIEL WEBSTER visited our town on Thursday last. Notice had been given
the day previous of the probable time of his arrival. At the hour
designated, crowds of citizens from the town and country thronged the
quay. A gun from the Ben Franklin, as she swept gracefully round the
point, gave notice of his approach, and was answered by a gun from the
shore. Gun followed gun in quick succession, from boat and shore, and
the last of the old national salute was echoing from hill and glen as
the Franklin reached the wharf. Mr. Webster was immediately waited on by
the committee appointed to receive him, and, attended by them, a
committee of invitation from Cincinnati, and several gentlemen from
Louisville, he landed amidst the cheers and acclamations of the
assembled multitude. He was seated in an elegant barouche, supported by
Governor Hendricks and John King, Esq., and, with the different
committees, and a large procession of citizens in barouches, on
horseback, and on foot, formed under the direction of Messrs. Wharton
and Payne of the committee of arrangements, marshals of the day,
proceeded to the place appointed for his reception, an arbor erected at
the north end of the market-house, fronting the large area formed by the
intersection of Main and Main Cross Streets and the public square, and
tastefully decorated with shrubbery, evergreens, and wreaths of flowers.
In the background appeared portraits of Washington and Lafayette, the
Declaration of Independence, and several other appropriate badges and
emblems, while in front a flag floated proudly on the breeze, bearing
for its motto the ever-memorable sentiment with which he concluded his
immortal speech in defence of the Constitution, 'LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW
AND FOR EVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE.' When the procession arrived, Mr.
Webster ascended the stand in the arbor, supported by Governor Hendricks
and the committee of arrangements, when he was appropriately and
eloquently addressed by J. G. Marshall, Esq., on behalf of the citizens,
to which he responded in a speech of an hour's length."
The following correspondence preceded Mr. Webster's visit.
"_Louisville, May 30, 1837._
"HON. DANIEL WEBSTER:--
"Sir,--Your fellow-citizens of the town of Madison, Indiana, deeply
impressed with a sense of the obligations which they and all the true
lovers of constitutional liberty, and friends to our happy and glorious
Union, owe you for the many prominent services rendered by you to their
beloved, though now much agitated and injured country, having appointed
the undersigned a committee through whom to tender you their salutations
and the hospitalities of their town, desire us earnestly to request you
to partake of a public dinner, or such other expression of the high
estimation in which they hold you as may be most acceptable, at such
time as you may designate.
"Entertaining the hope that you may find it convenient to comply with
this request of our constituents and ourselves, we beg leave, with
sentiments of the most profound respect and regard, to subscribe
ourselves,
"Your fellow-citizens,
W. LYLE,
W. J. MCCLURE,
WM. F. COLLUM,
A. W. PITCHER,
JAS. E. LEWIS,
D. L. MCCLURE,
} _Committee_."
* * * * *
ANSWER.
_Louisville, May 30, 1837._
"GENTLEMEN,--I feel much honored by the communication which I have
received from you, expressing the friendly sentiments of my
fellow-citizens of Madison, and desiring that I should pay them a
visit.
"Although so kind an invitation, meeting me at so great a distance, was
altogether unlooked for, I had yet determined not to pass so interesting
a point on the Ohio without making some short stay at it. I shall leave
this place on Thursday morning, and will stop at Madison, and shall be
most happy to see any of its citizens who may desire to meet me. I must
pray to be excused from a formal public dinner, as well from a regard to
the time which it will be in my power to pass with you, as from a
general wish, whenever it is practicable, to avoid every thing like
ceremony or show in my intercourse with my fellow-citizens.
"You truly observe, Gentlemen, that the country at the present moment is
agitated. I think, too, that you are right in saying it is injured; that
is, I think public measures of a very injurious character and tendency
have been unfortunately adopted. But our case is not one that leads us
to much despondency. The country, the happy and glorious country in
which you and I live, is great, free, and full of resources; and, in the
main, an intelligent and patriotic spirit pervades the community. These
will bring all things right. Whatsoever has been injudiciously or rashly
done may be corrected by wiser counsels. Nothing can, for any great
length of time, depress the great interests of the people of the United
States, if wisdom and honest good-sense shall prevail in their public
measures. Our present point of suffering is the _currency_. In my
opinion, this is an interest with the preservation of which Congress is
charged, solemnly and deeply charged. A uniform currency was one of the
great objects of the Union. If we fail to maintain it, we so far fail of
what was intended by the national Constitution. Let us strive to avert
this reproach from that government and that Union, which make us, in so
many respects, ONE PEOPLE! Be assured, that to the attainment of this
end every power and faculty of my mind shall be directed; and may
Providence so prosper us, that no one shall be able to say, that in any
thing this glorious union of the States has come short of fulfilling
either its own duties or the just expectations of the people.
"With sentiments of true regard, Gentlemen, I am your much obliged
friend and fellow-citizen,
"DANIEL WEBSTER.
"To W. LYLE,
W. J. MCCLURE,
WM. F. COLLUM,
A. W. PITCHER,
JAMES E. LEWIS,
D. L. MCCLURE,
} _Committee_."
The address of Mr. Marshall, above alluded to, was as follows:--
"SIR,--The people now assembled around you, through me, the humble organ
of their selection, do most sincerely and cordially welcome you to
Madison. In extending to you the most liberal hospitality, they do no
more, however, than they would be inclined to do towards the humblest
citizen of our common country. But this public and formal manifestation
of the feeling of regard which they entertain for you is intended to do
more than inform you of the simple fact that here you can find food and
shelter, and partake with them of the pleasures of the social circle. If
this were all, it might be communicated in a manner more acceptable, by
extending to you the hand of friendship and kindly pointing you to the
family board; but by this public parade, this assembling of the people
around you, it is intended to give you that consolation, (most grateful
and cheering to every true American heart,) _the people's_ approbation
of your acts as a public servant. This is done, not with that abject
feeling which characterizes the homage of subjects, but with that nobler
feeling which prompts freemen to honor and esteem those who have been
their country's benefactors. Prompted by such feeling, the patriots of
the Revolution delighted to honor the _father of our country_. He led
his armies to victory, and thus wrested the liberties of his countrymen
from the grasp of a tyrant; and may we not from like impulses manifest
gratitude towards those who, by the power of their intellects, have
effectually rebuked erroneous principles, which were evidently
undermining and endangering the very existence of our beloved Union?
Yes, Sir, our country has now nothing to fear from external violence. It
is a danger which the whole country can see on its first approach, and
every arm will be nerved at once to repel it; it can be met at the point
of the bayonet, and millions would now, as in days that are past, be
ready to shed their blood in defence of their country. But, Sir, in
_those_ who artfully excite the passions and prejudices of the people,
and, by presenting to them the most plausible pretexts (for their own
selfish purposes), lead them thoughtlessly to abandon the sacred
principles upon which our government is founded, and to reject the
measures which can alone promote the prosperity of the country,--in such
we meet an enemy against whom the most daring bravery of the soldier is
totally unavailing.
"The injury which is inflicted is not at first felt; time is required to
develop it; and when developed, the closest investigation may be
necessary to trace it to its cause; this the people may not be able to
accomplish. This enemy to the country can only be discerned by the keen
eye of the statesman, and met and conquered by the power of his
intellect. And he who is successful in thus defending his country may
well be held in grateful remembrance by his fellow-citizens. It is for
such reasons, Sir, that we have presented to you these testimonials of
our approbation. Though personally a stranger to us, your public
character, your masterly efforts in defence of the Constitution, the
services you have rendered the West, and the principles and measures
which you have so ably advocated, are known and approved, and I hope
will ever be remembered by us. And although some of your efforts have
proved for the time unsuccessful, it is to be hoped they would now have
a different effect. When the old and established measures of any
government have been abandoned for new ones, simply as an _experiment_,
and when that experiment, if it does not produce, is, to say the least,
immediately followed by, ruin and distress in every part of the country,
may we not hope that men will at least calmly and dispassionately hear
and weigh the reasons why a different policy should be adopted? But if
the people's representatives cannot be convinced of the error into which
they have been led, it is high time the people themselves should awake
from their slumbers. A dark cloud hangs over the land, so thick, so
dark, a ray of hope can hardly penetrate it. But shall the people gird
on their armor and march to battle? No, Sir; it is a battle which they
must fight through the ballot-box; and perhaps they do not know against
what to direct their effort; they are almost in a state of despondency,
ready to conclude that they are driven to the verge of ruin by a kind of
irresistible destiny. The cause of the evil can be discovered only by
investigation; and to their public men they must look for information
and for wisdom to direct them. But, Sir, it is not our object to relate
to you our grievances, or recount the past services which you have
rendered your country. We wish to cheer you on to increased efforts in
urging the measures you have heretofore so zealously and ably advocated.
May your success be equal to your efforts, and may happiness and
prosperity attend you through life."
RECEPTION AT MADISON.[110]
If, fellow-citizens, I can make myself heard by this numerous assembly,
speaking, as I do, in the open air, I will return to you my heartfelt
thanks for the kindness you have shown me. I come among you a stranger.
On the day before yesterday I placed my foot, for the first time, on the
soil of the great and growing State of Indiana. Although I have lived on
terms of great intimacy and friendship with several Western gentlemen,
members of Congress, among whom is your estimable townsman near me,
(Governor Hendricks,) I have never before had an opportunity of seeing
and forming an acquaintance for myself with my fellow-citizens of this
section of the Union. I travel for this purpose. I confess that I regard
with astonishment the evidences of intelligence, enterprise, and
refinement everywhere exhibited around me, when I think of the short
time that has elapsed since the spot where I stand was a howling
wilderness. Since I entered public life, this State was unknown as a
political government. All the country west of the Alleghanies and
northwest of the Ohio constituted but one Territory, entitled to a
single delegate in the counsels of the nation, having the right to
speak, but not to vote. Since then, the States of Ohio, Indiana,
Illinois, Michigan, and the long strip of country known as the Territory
of Wisconsin, have been carved out of it. Indiana, which numbers but
twenty years since the commencement of her political existence, contains
a population of six hundred thousand, equal to the population of
Massachusetts, a State of two hundred years' duration. In age she is an
infant; in strength and resources a giant. Her appearance indicates the
full vigor of maturity, while, measured by her years, she is yet in the
cradle.
Although I reside in a part of the country most remote from you,
although I have seen you spring into existence and advance with rapid
strides in the march of prosperity and power, until your population has
equalled that of my own State, which you far surpass in fertility of
soil and mildness of climate; yet these things have excited in me no
feelings of dislike, or jealousy, or envy. On the contrary, I have
witnessed them with pride and pleasure, when I saw in them the growth of
a member of our common country; and with feelings warmer than pride,
when I recollect that there are those among you who are bone of my bone
and flesh of my flesh, who inherit my name and share my blood. When they
came to me for my advice, before leaving their hearths and homes, I did
not oppose their desires or suggest difficulties in their paths. I told
them, "Go and join your destinies with those of the hardy pioneers of
the West, share their hardships, and partake their fortunes; go, and God
speed you; only carry with you your own good principles, and whether the
sun rises on you, or sets on you, let it warm American hearts in your
bosoms."
Though, as I observed, I live in a part of the country most remote from
you, fellow-citizens, I have been no inattentive observer of your
history and progress. I have heard of the reports made in your
legislature, and the acts passed in pursuance thereof. I have traced on
the map of your State the routes marked out for extensive turnpikes,
railroads, and canals. I have read with pleasure the acts providing for
their establishment and completion. I do not pretend to offer you my
advice; it would perhaps be presumptuous; but you will permit me to say,
that, as far as I have examined them, they are conceived in wisdom, and
evince great political skill and foresight. You have commenced at the
right point. To open the means of communication, by which man may, when
he wishes, see the face of his friend, should be the first work of every
government. We may theorize and speculate about it as we please,--we may
understand all the metaphysics of politics; but if men are confined to
the narrow spot they inhabit, because they have not the means of
travelling when they please, they must go back to a state of barbarism.
Social intercourse is the corner-stone of good government. The nation
that provides no means for the improvement of its communications, has
not taken the first step in civilization. Go on, then, as you have
begun; prosecute your works with energy and perseverance; be not daunted
by imaginary difficulties, be not deterred by exaggerated calculations
of their cost. Go on; open your wilderness to the sun; turn up the soil;
and in the wide-spread and highly-cultivated fields, the smiling
villages, and the busy towns that will spring up from the bosom of the
desert, you will reap a rich reward for your investment and industry.
Another of the paramount objects of government, to which I rejoice to
see that you have turned your attention, is education. I speak not of
college education, nor of academy education, though they are of great
importance; I speak of free-school education, common-school education.
Among the luminaries in the sky of New England, the burning lights which
throw intelligence and happiness on her people, the first and most
brilliant is her system of common schools. I congratulate myself that my
first speech on entering public life was in their behalf. Education, to
accomplish the ends of good government, should be universally diffused.
Open the doors of the school-house to all the children in the land. Let
no man have the excuse of poverty for not educating his own offspring.
Place the means of education within his reach, and if they remain in
ignorance, be it his own reproach. If one object of the expenditure of
your revenue be protection against crime, you could not devise a better
or cheaper means of obtaining it. Other nations spend their money in
providing means for its detection and punishment, but it is the
principle of our government to provide for its never occurring. The one
acts by _coercion_, the other by _prevention_. On the diffusion of
education among the people rest the preservation and perpetuation of our
free institutions. I apprehend no danger to our country from a foreign
foe. The prospect of a war with any powerful nation is too remote to be
a matter of calculation. Besides, there is no nation on earth powerful
enough to accomplish our overthrow. Our destruction, should it come at
all, will be from another quarter. From the inattention of the people to
the concerns of their government, from their carelessness and
negligence, I must confess that I do apprehend some danger. I fear that
they may place too implicit a confidence in their public servants, and
fail properly to scrutinize their conduct; that in this way they may be
made the dupes of designing men, and become the instruments of their own
undoing. Make them intelligent, and they will be vigilant; give them the
means of detecting the wrong, and they will apply the remedy.
The gentleman who has just addressed me in such flattering, but
unmerited terms, has been pleased to make kind mention of my devotion to
the Constitution, and my humble efforts in its support. I claim no merit
on that account. It results from my sense of its surpassing excellences,
which must strike every man who attentively and impartially examines it.
I regard it as the work of the purest patriots and wisest statesmen that
ever existed, aided by the smiles of a benignant Providence; for when we
regard it as a system of government growing out of the discordant
opinions and conflicting interests of thirteen independent States, it
almost appears a Divine interposition in our behalf. I have always, with
the utmost zeal and the moderate abilities I possess, striven to prevent
its infraction in the slightest particular. I believed, if that bond of
union were broken, we should never again be a united people. Where,
among all the political thinkers, the constitution-makers and the
constitution-menders of the day, could we find a man to make us another?
Who would even venture to propose a reunion? Where would be the
starting-point, and what the plan? I do not expect miracles to follow
each other. No plan could be proposed that would be adopted; the hand
that destroys the Constitution rends our Union asunder for ever.
My friend has been pleased to remember, in his address, my humble
support of the constitutional right of Congress to improve the
navigation of our great internal rivers, and to construct roads through
the different States. It is well known that few persons entertain
stronger opinions on this subject than myself. Believing that the great
object of the Union is to secure the general safety and promote the
general welfare, and that the Constitution was designed to point out the
means of accomplishing these ends, I have always been in favor of such
measures as I deemed for the general benefit, under the restrictions and
limitations prescribed by the Constitution itself. I supported them with
my voice, and my vote, not because they were for the benefit of the
West, but because they were for the benefit of the whole country. That
they are local in their advantages, as well as in their construction, is
an objection that has been and will be urged against every measure of
the kind. In a country so widely extended as ours, so diversified in its
interests and in the character of its people, it is impossible that the
operation of any measure should affect all alike. Each has its own
peculiar interest, whose advancement it seeks; we have the sea-coast,
and you the noble river that flows at your feet. So it must ever be. Go
to the smallest government in the world, the republic of San Marino, in
Italy, possessing a territory of but ten miles square, and you will find
its citizens, separated but by a few miles, having some interests which,
on account of local situation, are separate and distinct. There is not
on the face of the earth a plain, five miles in extent, whose
inhabitants are all the same in their pursuits and pleasures. Some will
live on a creek, others near a hill, which, when any measure is proposed
for the general benefit, will give rise to jarring claims and opposing
interests. In such cases, it has always appeared to me that the point to
be examined was, whether the principle was general. If the principle
were general, although the application might be partial, I cheerfully
and zealously gave it my support. When an objection has been made to an
appropriation for clearing the snags out of the Ohio River, I have
answered it with the question, "Would you not vote for an appropriation
to clear the Atlantic Ocean of snags, were the navigation of your coast
thus obstructed? The people of the West contribute their portion of the
revenue to fortify your sea-coast, and erect piers, and harbors, and
light-houses, from which they derive a remote benefit, and why not
contribute yours to improve the navigation of a river whose commerce
enriches the whole country?"
It may be expected, fellow-citizens, that I should say something on a
topic which agitates and distracts the public mind, I mean the
deranged state of the currency, and the general stagnation of business.
In giving my opinions on this topic, I wish it to be distinctly
understood, that I force them on no man. I am an independent man,
speaking to independent men. I think for myself; you, of course, enjoy
and exercise the same right. I cheerfully concede to every one the
liberty of differing with me in sentiment, readily granting that he
has as good chance of being right as myself, perhaps a better. But I
have some respect for my character as a public man. The present
state of things has grown out of a series of measures, to which I have
been in uniform opposition. In speaking of their consequences, I am
doing but justice to myself in showing them in justification of my
conduct. I am performing a duty to my fellow-citizens, who have a
right to know the opinions of every public man. The present state of
things is unparalleled in the annals of our country. The general
suspension of specie payments by the banks, beginning I know not
where, and ending I know not where, but comprehending the whole
country, has produced wide-spread ruin and confusion through the
land. To you the scene is one as yet of apprehension; to us, of deep
distress. You cannot understand, my fellow-citizens, nor can I describe
it so as to enable you to understand, the embarrassment and suffering
which are depressing the spirit and crushing the energies of the people
of the sea-girt States of the East. You are agriculturists, you
produce what you consume, and always have the means of living within
your reach. We depend on others for their agricultural productions;
we live by manufactures and commerce, of which credit is the
lifeblood. The destruction of credit is the destruction of our means
of living. The man who cannot fulfil his daily engagements, or with
whom others fail to fulfil theirs, must suffer for his daily bread.
And who are those who suffer? Not the rich, for they can generally take
care of themselves. Capital is ingenious and far-sighted, ready in
resources and fertile in expedients to shelter itself from impending
storms. Shut it out from one source of increase, and it will find
other avenues of profitable investment. It is the industrious, working
part of the community, men whose hands have grown hard by holding the
plough and pulling the oar, men who depend on their daily labor and
their daily pay, who, when the operations of trade and commerce are
checked and palsied, have no prospect for themselves and their families
but beggary and starvation,--it is these who suffer. All this has
been attributed to causes as different as can be imagined; over-trading,
over-buying, over-selling, over-speculating, over-production, terms
which I acknowledge I do not very well understand. I am at a loss to
conceive how a nation can become poor by over-production, producing
more than she can sell or consume. I do not see where there has been
over-trading, except in public lands; for when every thing else was
up to such an enormous price, and the public land tied down to one
dollar and a quarter an acre, who would not have bought it if he could?
These causes could not have produced all those consequences which have
occasioned such general lamentation. They must have proceeded from some
other source. And I now request you, my fellow-citizens, to bear
witness, that here, in this good city, on the banks of the Ohio, on the
first day of June, 1837, beneath the bright sun that is shining upon us,
I declare my conscientious conviction that they have proceeded from the
measures of the general government in relation to the currency. I make
this declaration in no spirit of enmity to its authors; I follow no man
with rebukes or reproaches. To reprobate the past will not alleviate the
evils of the present. It is the duty of every good citizen to contribute
his strength, however feeble, to diminish the burden under which a
people groans. To apply the remedy successfully, however, we must first
ascertain the causes, character, and extent of the evil.
Let us go back, then, to its origin. Forty-eight years have elapsed
since the adoption of our Constitution. For forty years of that time we
had a national bank. Its establishment originated in the imperious
obligation imposed on every government to furnish its people with a
circulating medium for their commerce. No matter how rich the citizen
may be in flocks and herds, in houses and lands, if his government does
not furnish him a medium of exchange, commerce must be confined to the
petty barter suggested by mutual wants and necessities, as they exist in
savage life. The history of all commercial countries shows that the
precious metals can constitute but a small part of this circulating
medium. The extension of commerce creates a system of credit; the
transmission of money from one part of the country to the other gives
birth to the business of exchange. To keep the value of this medium and
the rates of exchange equal and certain, was imperiously required by the
necessities of the times when the bank was established. Under the old
confederacy, each of the thirteen States established and regulated its
own money, which passed for its full value within the State, and was
useless the moment it crossed the State border. The little State of
Rhode Island, for instance, (I hope no son of hers present will take
offence at what I say,) so small that an Indiana man might almost cover
her territory with his hand, was crowded with banks. A man might have
been rich at Providence, but before he could travel to Boston, forty
miles distant, he would starve for want of money to pay for his
breakfast.
Had this state of things continued, some of the provisions of the
Constitution would have been of no force or virtue. Of what value to
Congress would have been the right to levy taxes, imposts, and duties,
and to regulate commerce among different States, and of what effect or
consequence the prohibition on the different States of levying and
collecting imposts, if each and every one of them had possessed the
right of paying her taxes and duties in a currency of her own, which
would not pass one hundred miles, perhaps, from the bank whence it was
issued? The creation of a national bank presented the surest means of
remedying these evils, and accomplishing one of the principal objects of
the Constitution, the establishment and maintenance of a currency whose
value would be uniform in every part of the country. During the forty
years it existed, under the two charters, we had no general suspension
of specie payments, as at present. We got along well with it, and I am
one of those who are disposed to let _well_ alone. I am content to
travel along the good old turnpike on which I have journeyed before with
comfort and expedition, without turning aside to try a new track. I must
confess that I do not possess that soaring self-respect, that lofty
confidence in my own political sagacity and foresight, which would
induce me to set aside the experience of forty years, and risk the ruin
of the country for the sake of an _experiment_. To this is all the
distress of the country attributable. This has caused such powerful
invasions of bank paper, like sudden and succeeding flights of birds of
prey and passage, and the rapid disappearance of specie at its approach.
You all know that bank-notes have been almost as plenty as the leaves of
the forest in the summer. But of what value are they to the holder, if
he is compelled to pay his debts in specie? And who can be expected to
pay his debts in this way, when the government has withdrawn the specie
from circulation?
You have not yet felt the evil in its full extent. It is mostly in
prospect, and you are watching its approach. While you are endeavoring
to guard against it, strive to prevent its future recurrence. As you
would hunt down, with hound and horn, the wolf who is making nightly
havoc of your flocks and herds, pursue and keep down those who would
make havoc in your business and property by experiments on our
currency.
Although the country has bowed beneath the pressure, I do not fear that
it will be broken down and prostrated in the dust. Depress them as it
may, the energy and industry of the people will enable them to rise
again. We have for a long time carried a load of bad government on our
shoulders, and we are still able to bear up under it. But I do not see
that, for that reason, we should be willing and eager to carry it. I do
not see why it should prevent us from wishing to lessen it as much as
possible, if not to throw it off altogether, when we know that we can
get along so much easier and faster without it. While we are exerting
ourselves with renewed industry and economy to recover from its
blighting effects, while we plough the land and plough the sea, let us
hasten the return of things to their proper state, by such political
measures as will best accomplish the desired end. Let us inform our
public servants of our wishes, and pursue such a course as will compel
them to obey us.
In conclusion, my fellow-citizens, I return you my thanks for the
patience and attention with which you have listened to me, and pray the
beneficent Giver of all good, that he may keep you under the shadow of
his wing, and continue to bless you with peace and prosperity.
FOOTNOTES
[110] A Speech delivered at Madison, in the State of Indiana, on the
first of June 1837, on Occasion of a Public Reception by the
Citizens of that Place.
PUBLIC DINNER IN FANEUIL HALL.
INTRODUCTORY NOTE.
On the return of Mr. Webster from the session in which he had
particularly signalized himself by the delivery of his masterly
speeches on the sub-treasury bill, and in reply to Mr. Calhoun
(contained in a subsequent volume of this collection), a large
number of his fellow-citizens of Boston could not be restrained from
manifesting their sense of his extraordinary efforts, in exhibiting
the true character of the odious sub-treasury project, and in
procuring its ultimate rejection by Congress. He was accordingly
invited to meet them at a public dinner, on the 24th of July, 1838.
More than fifteen hundred persons attended it, every ticket having
been eagerly taken as soon as issued. Every portion of the Hall,
floor and galleries, was filled. The Governor of the Commonwealth
(Hon. Edward Everett) presided at the table, and the spirit of the
occasion and of the company may be gathered from the following
remarks with which he introduced Mr. Webster to the assembly:
"And now, fellow-citizens," said he, "I rise to discharge the most
pleasing part of my duty, which I fear you will think I have too long
postponed; the duty which devolves on me, as the organ of your feelings
toward our distinguished guest, the senior Senator of the Commonwealth.
And yet, fellow-citizens, I appeal to you, that I have approached this
duty through the succession of ideas which most naturally conducts our
minds and hearts to the grateful topic. I have proposed to you, Our
country and its prosperity. Who among the great men, his contemporaries,
has more widely surveyed and comprehended the various interests of all
its parts? I have proposed, The Union of the States. What public man is
there living, whose political course has been more steadily consecrated
to its perpetuity? I have proposed to you, The Constitution. And who of
our statesmen, from the time of its framers, has more profoundly
investigated, more clearly expounded, more powerfully vindicated and
sustained it? But these topics I may pass over. They are matters which
have been long familiar to you; they need not any comment from me.
"The events of the last year, and of the last session of Congress, and
the present state of the country, invite our attention more particularly
to the recent efforts of our distinguished guest on the subject of THE
CURRENCY. I know not but some persons may think that undue importance
has been attached to the questions which have divided parties on this
subject; that these questions are not so vital to liberty as they have
been represented. But such an opinion would be erroneous. Undoubtedly
there are countries, not free ones, in which money questions, as
connected with the government, are of minor consequence. In China, in
Turkey, in Persia, I presume they are very little discussed. In these
countries the great question is, whether a man's head at night will be
found in the same pleasing and convenient proximity to his shoulders
that it was in the morning; and this is a kind of previous question,
which, if decided against him, cuts off all others. Under those
arbitrary governments of Europe, where the prince takes what he pleases,
and when he pleases, it is of very little moment where he deposits it,
on its way from the pockets of the people to his own. But it was
remarked by Edmund Burke, more than seventy years ago, that in England,
(and _a fortiori_ in the United States, that is, under constitutional
governments,) the great struggles for liberty had been almost always
money questions, and on this ground he excused the Americans for the
stand they took in opposition to a paltry tax. But, most certainly, the
money question, as it has been agitated among us, is vastly more
important, more intimately connected with constitutional liberty, than
that which brought on the Revolution. The question with our fathers was
one of a small tax; ours, of the entire currency. Theirs concerned three
pence per pound on tea, illegally levied; ours, the entire currency
illegally disposed of, the entire medium of circulation deranged, and
for a period annihilated, the whole business of the country, in all its
great branches, brought under the control of the treasury. The noble
stand, therefore, taken by our distinguished Senator in this controversy
has been upon points which concern the dearest interests of the people,
and the elemental principles of the government.
"In fact, I know not that a policy can be imagined more at war with
the true character of the government, than that which he has been
called to combat. The past and present administrations, relying too
confidently on the popular delusions which brought them into office,
have systematically defeated one of the great original objects for
which the Union was framed, that of a uniform medium of commerce. Nor
has the manner of their policy been less objectionable than its
design. They have crowded experiment upon experiment, with the fatal
recklessness of the rash engineer who urges the fires in his furnaces
till some noble steamer bursts in an awful explosion.[111] Our Senators
and Representatives, and their associates, could they have forgotten
that a revered Constitution and a beloved country were the chief
victims, might well have folded their arms, and left the authors of
the calamity to extricate themselves, as best they might, from the
ruin. But not thus have they understood their duty; and we have seen
them with admiration, in the last days of the session, gallantly
putting out in the life-boat of the Constitution, with an eye of
fire at the top, and an arm of iron at the helm, to cruise about on the
boiling waters, and pick up all that is left undestroyed. When I have
seen the adherents of the administration rejecting, so far as they
ventured, the salutary measures proposed or supported by our
distinguished guest and his associates, for the restoration of the
currency and the reestablishment of the public credit, and clinging to
all that events have spared of their discredited measures, they have
seemed to me to resemble the sun-stricken victims of a moody madness,
who, instead of thankfully embracing the proffered relief, would
prefer to float about on the weltering waters, clinging to the broken
planks and the shivered splinters of their exploded policy, sure as
they are, at the very best, if they reach solid ground, to do so
beneath the overwhelming surge of popular indignation.
"I should take up a great deal more time than belongs to me, did I
attempt even to sketch the distinguished services of our friend and
guest in this constitutional warfare. They are impressed on your
memories, and on your hearts. In the thickest of the conflict, his
plume, like that of Henry the Fourth of France, discerned from afar, has
pointed out the spot where, to use his own language, 'the blows fall
thickest and hardest'; and there he has been found, with the banner of
the Union above his head, and the flaming cimeter of the Constitution in
his hand. If the public mind has been thoroughly awakened to the
inconsistency of the government policy with the genius of our
institutions, if, to the experience we have all had of the pernicious
operation of this policy, there has been added a clear understanding of
the false principles, as well of constitutional law as of political
economy, on which it rests, how much of this is not fairly to be
ascribed to the efforts of our distinguished guest, efforts never
stinted in or out of Congress, repeated in every form which can persuade
the judgment or influence the conduct of men, never less than cogent,
eloquent, irrefutable, but in the last session of Congress, perhaps more
than ever before, grand, masterly, and overwhelming. It has indeed been
a rare, I had almost said a sublime spectacle, to see him, unsupported
by a majority in either house, opposed by the entire influence of the
government, denounced by the administration press from one end of the
Union to the other, yet carrying resolution after resolution against the
administration, carrying them alike against the old guard and the new
recruits, and, notwithstanding their abrupt and ill-compacted alliance,
compelling them, in spite of themselves, to afford some relief to the
country.
"These are the services, fellow-citizens, for which you this day
tender your thanks to your distinguished guest. These are the
services for which, Sir, on behalf of my fellow-citizens, I thank you;
for which they thank you themselves. Behold, Sir, how they rise to
pay you a manly homage.[112] The armies of Napoleon could not coerce it;
the wealth of the Indies could not buy it; but it is freely, joyously
paid, by fifteen hundred freemen, to the man of their affections. They
thank you for having stood by them in these dark times,--at all times.
They thank you, because they think they are beginning to feel the fruit
of your exertions in the daily round of their pursuits. They ascribe it
in no small degree to you, that the iron grasp of the government
policy has been relaxed; that its bolts and chains, relics of a
barbarous age, have been shivered as soon as forged, and before they
were riveted on the necks of the people. They thank you for having
stood by the Constitution, in which their all of human hope for
themselves and their children is enshrined. They thank you as one of
themselves; and because they know that your affections are with the
people from which you sprung. They thank you because you have at all
times shown, that, as the Whig blood of the Revolution circles in your
veins, the Whig principles of the Revolution are imprinted on your
heart. They thank you for the entire manliness of your course; that
you have never joined the treacherous cry of the 'hatred of the poor
against the rich,'--a cry raised by artful men, who think to flatter the
people, while in reality they are waging war against the people's
business, the people's prosperity, and the people's Constitution.
They are willing that this day's offering should be remembered, when
all this mighty multitude shall have passed from the stage. When
that day shall have arrived, history will have written your name on
one of her brightest pages; fame will have encircled your bust with
her greenest laurels; but neither history nor fame will have paid you a
truer, heartier tribute, than that which now, beneath the arches of
this venerable hall, in the approving presence of these images of our
canonized fathers, is tendered you by this great company of your
fellow-citizens.
"I give you, Gentlemen,--
"DANIEL WEBSTER,--the statesman and the man; whose name is engraven
alike on the pillars of the Constitution and the hearts of his
fellow-citizens. He is worthy of that place in the councils of the
nation which he fills in the affections of the people."
Mr. Webster then rose, amidst enthusiastic cheering, and addressed
the meeting in the following speech.
FOOTNOTES
[111] The disaster of the Pulaski occurred about the time of the
delivery of these remarks.
[112] The entire audience rose at this moment.
PUBLIC DINNER IN FANEUIL HALL.[113]
GENTLEMEN:--I shall be happy indeed, if the state of my health and the
condition of my voice shall enable me to express, in a few words, my
deep and heartfelt gratitude for this expression of your approbation. If
public life has its cares and its trials, it has occasionally its
consolations also. Among these, one of the greatest, and the chief, is
the approbation of those whom we have honestly endeavored to serve. This
cup of consolation you have now administered,--full, crowned, abundantly
overflowing.
It is my chief desire at this time, in a few spontaneous and
affectionate words, to render you the thanks of a grateful heart. When I
lately received your invitation in New York, nothing was farther from my
thoughts or expectations, than that I should meet such an assembly as I
now behold in Boston.
But I was willing to believe that it was not meant merely as a
compliment, which it was expected would be declined, but that it was in
truth your wish, at the close of the labors of a long session of
Congress, that I should meet you in this place, that we might mingle our
mutual congratulations, and that we might enjoy together one happy,
social hour.
The president of this assembly has spoken of the late session as having
been not only long, but arduous; and, in some respects, it does deserve
to be so regarded. I may indeed say, that, in an experience of twenty
years of public life, I have never yet encountered labors or anxieties
such as this session brought with it.
With a short intermission in the autumn, so short as not to allow the
more distant members to visit their homes, we have been in continual
session from the early part of September to the 9th of July, a period of
ten months.[114] On our part, during this whole time, we have been
contending in minorities against majorities; majorities, indeed, not to
be relied on for all measures, as the event has proved, but still
acknowledged and avowed majorities, professing general attachment and
support to the measures, and to the men, of the administration. My own
object, and that of those with whom I have had the honor to act, has
been steady and uniform. That object was, to resist new theories, new
schemes, new and dangerous projects, until time could be gained for
their consideration by the people. This was our great purpose, and its
accomplishment required no slight effort. It was the commencement of a
new Congress. The organization of the two houses showed clear and
decisive administration majorities. The administration itself was new,
and had come into its fresh power with something of the popularity of
that which preceded it. It was no child's play, therefore, to resist,
successfully, its leading measures, for so long a period as should allow
time for an effectual appeal to the people, pressed, as those measures
were, with the utmost zeal and assiduity.
The president of the day has alluded in a very flattering manner to my
own exertions and efforts, made at different times, in connection with
the leading topics. But I claim no particular merit for myself. In what
I have done, I have only acted with others. I have acted, especially,
with my most estimable, able, and excellent colleague,[115] and with
the experienced and distinguished men who form the delegation of
Massachusetts in the House of Representatives, a delegation of which
any State might be justly proud. We have acted together, as men
holding, in almost all cases, common opinions, and laboring for a
common end. It gives me great pleasure to have the honor of seeing so
many of the Representatives of the State in Congress here to-day; but I
must not be prevented, even by their presence, from bearing my humble
but hearty testimony to the fidelity and ability with which they have,
in this arduous struggle, performed their public duties. The crisis has,
indeed, demanded the efforts of all; and we of Massachusetts, while we
hope we have done our duty, have done it only in concurrence with
other Whigs, whose zeal, ability, and exertions can never be too much
commended.
This is not an occasion in which it is fit or practicable to discuss
very minutely, and at length, the questions which have been chiefly
agitated during this long and laborious session of Congress. Yet, so
important is the great and general question, which, for the last twelve
or fifteen months, has been presented to the consideration of the
legislature, that I deem it proper, on this, as on all occasions, to
state, at the risk of some repetition, perhaps, what is the nature of
that important question, and briefly to advert to some of the
circumstances in which it had its origin.
Whatever subordinate questions may have been raised touching a
sub-treasury, or a constitutional treasury, or a treasury in one, or in
another, or in yet a third form, I take the question, the plain, the
paramount, the practical question, to be this; namely, whether it be
among the powers and the duties of Congress to take any further care of
the national currency than to regulate the coinage of gold and silver.
That question lies at the foundation of all. Other questions, however
multiplied or varied, have but grown out of that.
If government is bound to take care that there is a good currency for
all the country, then, of course, it will have a good currency for
itself, and need take no especial pains to provide for itself any thing
peculiar. But if, on the other hand, government is at liberty to abandon
the general currency to its fate, without concern and without remorse,
then, from necessity, it must take care of itself; amidst the general
wreck of currency and credit, it must have places of resort and a system
of shelter; it must have a currency of its own, and modes of payment and
disbursement peculiar to itself. It must burrow and hide itself in
sub-treasury vaults. Scorning credit, and having trust in nobody, it
must grasp metallic money, and act as if nothing represented, or could
represent, property, which could not be counted, paid piece by piece, or
weighed in the scales, and made to ring upon the table; or it must
resort to special deposits in banks, even in those banks whose conduct
has been so loudly denounced as flagitious and criminal, treacherous to
the government, and fraudulent towards the people. All these schemes and
contrivances are but the consequences of the general doctrine which the
administration has advanced, and attempted to recommend to the country;
that is, that Congress has nothing to do with the currency, beyond the
mere matter of coinage, except to provide for itself. How such a notion
should come to be entertained, at this day, may well be a matter of
wonder for the wise; since it is a truth capable of the clearest
demonstration, that, from the first day of the existence of the
Constitution, from the moment when a practical administration of
government drew a first breath under its provisions, the superintendence
and care over the currency of the country have been admitted to be among
the clear and unquestioned powers and duties of Congress. This was the
opinion in Washington's time, and his administration acted upon it,
vigorously and successfully. And in Mr. Madison's time, when the
peculiar circumstances of the country again brought up the subject, and
gave it new importance, it was held to be the exclusive, or at least the
paramount and unquestioned, right of Congress to take care of the
currency; to restore it when depreciated; to see that there was a sound,
convertible paper circulation, suited to the circumstances of the
country, and having equal value, and the same credit, in all parts of
it. This was Mr. Madison's judgment. He acted upon it; and both houses
of Congress concurred with him. But if we now quote Mr. Madison's
sentiments, we get no reply at all from the friends of the government
system. We may read his messages of 1815 and 1816 as often as we please.
No man answers them, and yet the party of the administration, professing
to belong to Mr. Madison's political school, acts upon directly opposite
principles.
Now, what has brought about this state of things? What has caused this
attempt, now made, at the end of half a century, to change a great
principle of administration, and to surrender a most important power of
the government? Gentlemen, it has been a crisis of party, not of the
country, which has given birth to these new sentiments. The tortuous
windings of party policy have conducted us, and nothing else could well
have conducted us, to such a point. Nothing but party pledges, nothing
but courses of political conduct entered upon for party purposes, and
pursued from necessary regard to personal and party consistency, could
so far have pushed the government out of its clear and well-trodden path
of constitutional duty. From General Washington's presidency to the last
hour of the late President's, both the government and the country have
supposed Congress to be clothed with the general duty of protecting the
currency, either as an inference from the coinage power or from the
obvious and incontestable truth, that the regulation of the currency is
naturally and plainly a branch of the commercial power. General Jackson
himself was behind no one of his predecessors in asserting this power,
and in acknowledging the corresponding duty. We all know that his very
first complaint against the late Bank of the United States was, that it
had not fulfilled the expectation of the country, by furnishing for the
use of the people a sound and uniform currency. There were many persons,
certainly, who did not agree with him in his opinions respecting the
bank and the effects of its agency on the country; but it was expressly
on the ground of this alleged failure of the bank, that he undertook
what was called the great reform. There are those, again, who think that
of this attempted reform he made a very poor and sorry business; but
still the truth is, that he undertook this reform for the very purpose
professed and avowed, that he might fulfil better than it had yet been
fulfilled the duty of government in furnishing the people with a good
currency. The President thought that the currency, in 1832 and 1833, was
not good enough; that the people had a right to expect a better; and to
meet this expectation, he began what he himself called his experiment.
He said the currency was not so sound, and so uniform, as it was the
duty of government to make it; and he therefore undertook to give us a
currency more sound and more uniform. And now, Gentlemen, let us recur
shortly to what followed; for there we shall find the origin of the
present constitutional notions and dogmas. Let us see what has changed
the Constitution in this particular.
In 1833, the public deposits were removed, by an act of the President
himself, from the Bank of the United States, and placed in certain State
banks, under regulations prescribed by the executive alone. This was the
experiment. The utmost confidence, indeed, an arrogant and intolerant
confidence, was entertained and expressed of its success; and all who
doubted were regarded as blind bigots to a national bank. When the
experiment was put into operation, it was proclaimed that its success
was found to be complete. Down to the very close of General Jackson's
administration, we heard of nothing but the wonderful success of the
experiment. It was declared, from the highest official sources, that the
State banks, used as banks of deposit, had not only shown themselves
perfectly competent to fulfil the duties of fiscal agents to government,
but also that they had sustained the currency, and facilitated the great
business of internal exchanges, with the most singular and gratifying
success, and better than the same thing had been done before. In all
this glow and fervor of self-commendation, the late administration went
out of office, having bequeathed the experiment, with all its blushing
honors and rising glories, to its successor. But a frost, a nipping
frost, was at hand. Two months after General Jackson had retired, the
banks suspended specie payments, deposit banks and all; a universal
embarrassment smote down the business and industry of the country; the
treasury was left without a dollar, and the brilliant glory of the
experiment disappeared in gloom and thick darkness! And now, Gentlemen,
came the change of sentiments, now came the new reading of the
Constitution. A national bank had already been declared by the party to
be unconstitutional, the State bank system had failed, and what more
could be done? What other plan was to be devised? How could the duty of
government over the currency be now performed? The administration had
decried a national bank, and it now felt bound to denounce all State
institutions; and what, therefore, could it do? The whole party had laid
out its entire strength, in an effort to render the late Bank of the
United States, and any bank of the United States, unpopular and odious.
It had pronounced all such institutions to be dangerous, anti-republican
and monarchical. It had, especially, declared a national bank to be
plainly and clearly unconstitutional. Now, Gentlemen, I have nothing to
say of the diffidence and modesty of men, who without hesitation or
blushing, set up their own favorite opinions on a question of this kind
against the judgment of the government and the judgment of the country,
maintained for fifty years. I will only remark, that, if we were to find
men acting thus in their own affairs, if we should find them disposing
of their own interests, or making arrangements for their own property,
in contempt of rules which they knew the legislative and the judicial
authorities had all sanctioned for half a century, we should be very
likely to think them out of their heads. Yet this ground had been taken
against the late bank, and against all national banks; and it could not
be surrendered without apparent and gross inconsistency. What, then, I
ask again, was the administration to do? You may say, it should have
retracted its error, it should have seen the necessity of a national
institution, and yielded to the general judgment of the country.
But that would have required an effort of candor and magnanimity, of
which all men are not capable. Besides, there were open, solemn, public
pledges in the way. This commitment of the party against a national
bank, and the disastrous results of its experiment on the State
institutions, brought the party into a difficulty, from which it seemed
to have no escape, but in shifting off, altogether, the duty of taking
care of the currency. I was at Wheeling, in Virginia, in May of last
year, when the banks suspended payment; and, at the risk of some
imputation of bad taste, I will refer to observations of mine made then,
to the citizens of that town, and published, in regard to the questions
which that event would necessarily bring before the country.[116] I saw
at once that we were at the commencement of a new era, and that a
controversy must arise, which would greatly excite the community.
No sooner had the State banks suspended specie payments, and among the
rest those which were depositories of the government, than a cry of
fraud and treachery was raised against them, with no better reason,
perhaps, than existed for that loud, and boisterous, and boastful
confidence, with which the late administration had spoken of their
capacity of usefulness, and had assured the country that its experiment
could not fail. But whether the suspension by the banks was a matter of
necessity with them, or not, the administration, after it had happened,
seeing itself now shut out from the use of all banks by its own declared
opinions and the results of its own policy, and seeing no means at hand
for making another attempt at reforming the currency, turned a short
corner, and in all due form denied that the government had any duty of
the kind to discharge. From the time of the veto of the bank charter, in
1832, the administration had been like a man who had voluntarily
deserted a safe bottom, on deep waters, and, having in vain sought to
support himself by laying hold on one and another piece of floating
timber, chooses rather to go down than to seek safety in returning to
what he has abandoned.
Seeing that it had deprived itself of the common means of regulating
the currency, it now denied its obligation to do so; declared it had
nothing to do with the currency beyond coinage; that it would take
care of the revenues of the government, and as for the rest, the people
must look out for themselves. This decision thus evidently grew out of
party necessity. Having deprived themselves of the ordinary and
constitutional means of performing their duty, they sought to avoid
the responsibility by declaring that there was no such duty to
perform. They have looked further into the Constitution, and examined it
by daylight and by moonlight, and cannot find any such duty or
obligation. Though General Jackson saw it very plainly, during the
whole course of his presidency, it has now vanished, and the new
commentators can nowhere discern a vestige of it. The present
administration, indeed, stood pledged to tread in the steps of its
predecessor; but here was one footprint which it could not, or would
not, occupy, or one stride too long for it to take. The message, I had
almost said the fatal message, communicated to Congress in September,
contained a formal disavowal, by the administration, of all power
under the Constitution to regulate the general actual currency of the
country.
The President says, in that message, that if he refrains from suggesting
to Congress any specific plan for regulating the exchanges, relieving
mercantile embarrassments, or interfering with the ordinary operations
of foreign or domestic commerce, it is from the conviction that such
measures are not within the constitutional provision of government.
How all this could be said, when the Constitution expressly gives to
Congress the power to regulate commerce, both foreign and domestic, I
cannot conceive. But the Constitution was not to be trifled with, and
the people are not to be trifled with. The country, I believe, by a
great majority, is of opinion that this duty _does belong_ to
government, and ought to be exercised. All the new expounders have not
been able to erase this general power over commerce, and all that
belongs to commerce. Their fate, in this respect, is like that of him in
ancient story. While endeavoring to tear up and rend asunder the
Constitution, its strong fibres have recoiled, and caught them in the
cleft. They experience
"Milo's fearful end,
Wedged in the timber which they strove to rend."
Gentlemen, this constitutional power can never be surrendered. We may as
well give up the whole commercial power at once, and throw every thing
connected with it back upon the States. If Congress surrender the power,
to whom shall it pass, or where shall it be lodged? Shall it be left to
six-and-twenty different legislatures? To eight hundred or a thousand
unconnected State banks? No, Gentlemen, to allow that authority to be
surrendered would be to abandon the vessel of state, without pilot or
helm, and to suffer her to roll, darkling, down the current of her
fate.
For the sake of avoiding all misapprehensions on this most important
subject, I wish to state my own opinion, clearly, and in few words. I
have never said, that it is an indispensable duty in Congress, under all
circumstances, to establish a national bank. No such duty, certainly, is
created by the Constitution, in express terms. I did not say _what
particular measures_ are enjoined by the Constitution, in this respect.
Congress has its discretion, and is left to its own judgment, as to the
means most proper to be employed. But I say the general duty does
exist.
I maintain that Congress is bound to take care, by some proper means, to
secure a good currency for the people; and that, while this duty remains
unperformed, one great object of the Constitution is not attained. If we
are to have as many different currencies as there are States, and these
currencies are to be liable to perpetual fluctuation, it would be folly
to say that we had reached that security and uniformity in commercial
regulation, which we know it was the purpose of the Constitution to
establish.
The banks may all resume specie payments to-morrow,--I hope they will;
but how much will this resumption accomplish? It will doubtless afford
good local currencies; but will it give the country any proper and safe
paper currency, of equal and universal value? Certainly it cannot, and
will not. Will it bring back, for any length of time, exchanges to the
state they were in when there was a national currency in existence?
Certainly, in my opinion, it will not. We may heap gold bags upon gold
bags, we may create what securities, in the constitution of local banks,
we please, but we cannot give to any such bank a character that shall
insure the receipt of its notes, with equal readiness, everywhere
throughout the valley of the Mississippi, and from the shores of the
Gulf of Mexico to the St. Lawrence. Nothing can accomplish this, but an
institution which is national in its character. The people desire to
see, in their currency, the marks of this nationality. They like to see
the spread eagle, and where they see that they have confidence.
Who, if he will look at the present state of things, is not wise
enough to see that there is much and deep cause for fear in regard
to the future, unless the government will take the subject of
currency under its own control, as it ought to do. For one, I think I
see trouble ahead, and I look for effectual prevention and remedy
only to a just exercise of the powers of Congress. I look not without
apprehension upon the creation of numerous and powerful State
institutions, full of competition and rivalry, and under no common
control. I look for other and often-repeated expansions of paper
circulation, inflations of trade, and general excess; and then, again,
for other violent ebbings of the swollen flood, ending in other
suspensions. I see no steadiness, no security, till the government of
the United States shall fulfil its constitutional duty. I shall be
disappointed, certainly, if, for any length of time, the benefits of a
sound and uniform convertible paper currency can be enjoyed, while the
whole subject is left to six-and-twenty States, and to eight hundred
local banks, all anxious for the use of money and the use of credit in
the highest degree.
As I have already said, these sub-treasury schemes are but contrivances
for getting away from a disagreeable duty. And, after all, there are
scarcely any two of the friends of the administration who can agree
upon the same sub-treasury scheme. Each has a plan of his own. One man
requires that all banks shall be discarded, and nothing but gold and
silver shall be received for revenue. Another will exclaim, "That won't
do; that's not my thunder." Another would prohibit all the small notes,
and another would banish all the large ones. Another is for a special
deposit scheme; for making the banks sub-treasuries and depositories;
for making sub-treasuries of the broken, rotten, treacherous banks; for
taking bank-notes, tying them up with red strings, depositing them in
the vaults, and paying them out again.
It has been the proposition of the administration to separate the money
of the government from the money of the people; to secure a good medium
of payments, for the use of the treasury, in collecting and disbursing
revenue, and to take no care of the general circulation of the country.
This is the sum of its policy. Looking upon this whole scheme but as an
abandonment of clear constitutional obligation, I have opposed it, in
every form in which it has been presented. My object, as I have already
said, and that of those with whom I acted, has been, to prevent the
sanction of all or any of these new projects, by authority of law, until
another Congress should be elected, which might express the will of the
people formed after the present state of things arose. In this object we
have succeeded. If we have done little positive good, we have at least
prevented the introduction and establishment of new theories and new
contrivances, and we have preserved the Constitution, in this respect,
entire. No surrender or abandonment of important powers is, as yet,
indorsed on the parchment of that instrument. No new clause is appended
to it, making its provisions a mere _non obstante_ to executive
discretion. It has been snatched from the furnace. From this furnace of
party contention, heated seven times hotter than it has been wont to be
heated, the Constitution has been rescued, and we may hold it up to the
people this day, and tell them that even the smell of the fire is not
upon it.
But now, Gentlemen, a stronger arm must be put forth. A mightier
guardianship must now interfere. Time has been gained for public
discussion and consideration, and the great result is now with the
people. That they will ultimately decide right, I have the fullest
confidence. Party attachment and party patronage, it is true, may do
much to delay the results of general opinion, but they cannot long
resist the convictions of a whole people. It is most certain that, up to
the present hour, this new policy has been most unfavorably received.
State after State has fallen off from the ranks of the administration,
on account of its promulgation, and of the persevering attempt to raise
upon it a system of legal, practical administration. The message of
September completed the list of causes necessary to produce a popular
revolution in sentiment in Maine, Ohio, New Jersey, and New York. Since
the proposition was renewed, at the late session, we have witnessed a
similar revolution in Connecticut and Louisiana, and very important
changes, perhaps equivalent to revolutions, in the strength of parties
in other States. There is little reason to doubt, if all the electors of
the country could be polled to-day, that a great and decisive majority
would be found against all this strange policy. Yet, Gentlemen, I do not
consider the question, by any means, as decided. The policy is not
abandoned. It is to be persisted in. Its friends look for a reaction in
public opinion. I think I understand their hopes and expectations. They
rely on this _reaction_. Every thing is to be accomplished by
_reaction_. A month ago, this reaction was looked for to show itself in
Louisiana. Altogether disappointed in that quarter, the friends of the
policy now stretch their hopes to the other extremity of the Union, and
look for it in Maine. In my opinion, Gentlemen, there can be no reaction
which can reconcile the people of this country to the policy at present
pursued.
There must, in my opinion, be a change. If the administration will not
change its course, it must be changed itself. But I repeat, that the
decision now lies with the people; and in that decision, when it shall
be fairly pronounced, I shall cheerfully acquiesce. We ought to address
ourselves, on this great and vital question, to the whole people, to the
candid and intelligent of all parties. We should exhibit its magnitude,
its essential consequence to the Constitution, and its infinite
superiority to all ordinary strifes of party. We may well and truly say,
that it is a new question; that the great mass of the people, of any
party, is not committed on it; and it is our duty to invoke all true
patriots, all who wish for the well-being of the government and the
country, to resist these experiments upon the Constitution, and this
wild and strange departure from our hitherto approved and successful
policy.
At the same time, Gentlemen, while we thus invoke aid from all quarters,
we must not suffer ourselves to be deceived. We must yield to no
expedients, to no schemes and projects unknown to the Constitution, and
alien to our own history and our habits. We are to be saved, if saved at
all, _in_ the Constitution, not _out_ of it. None can aid us, none can
aid the country, by any thing in the nature of mere political project,
nor can any _devices_ supply the place of regular constitutional
administration. It was to prevent, or to remedy, such a state of things
as now exists, that the Constitution was formed and adopted. The time
when there is a disordered currency, and a distracted commerce, is the
very time when its agency is required; and I hope those who wish for a
restoration of general prosperity will look steadily to the light which
the Constitution sheds on the path of duty.
As to you and me, fellow-citizens, our course is not doubtful. However
others may decide, we hold on to the Constitution, and to all its
powers, as they have been authentically expounded, and practically and
successfully experienced, for a long period. Our interests, our habits,
our affections, all bind us to the principles of our Union as our
leading and guiding star.
Gentlemen, I cannot resume my seat without again expressing my sense of
gratitude for your generous appreciation of my services. I have the
pleasure to know that this festival originated with the Boston
mechanics, a body always distinguished, always honored, always
patriotic, from the first dawn of the Revolution to the present time.
Who is here, whose father has not told him--there are some here old
enough to know it themselves--that they were Boston mechanics whose
blood reddened State Street on the memorable 5th of March. And as the
tendencies of the Revolution went forward, and times grew more and more
critical, it was the Boston mechanics who composed, to a great extent,
the crowds which frequented the old Whig head-quarters in Union Street;
which assembled, as occasion required patriots to come together, in the
Old South; or filled to suffocation this immortal Cradle of American
Liberty.
When Independence was achieved, their course was alike intelligent,
wise, and patriotic. They saw, as quick and as fully as any men in the
country, the infirmities of the old Confederation, and discerned the
means by which they might be remedied. From the first, they were ardent
and zealous friends of the present Constitution. They saw the necessity
of united councils, and common regulations, for all the States, in
matters of trade and commerce. They saw, what indeed is obvious enough,
that their interest was completely involved with that of the mercantile
class, and other classes; and that nothing but one general, uniform
system of commerce, trade, and imports could possibly give to the
business and industry of the country vigor and prosperity. When the
convention for acting on the Constitution sat in this city, and the
result of its deliberations was doubtful, the mechanics assembled at the
Green Dragon tavern, and passed the most firm and spirited resolutions
in favor of the Constitution; and when these resolutions were presented
to the Boston delegation, by a committee of which Colonel Revere was
chairman, they were asked by one of the members, how many mechanics were
at the meeting; to which Colonel Revere answered, "More than there are
stars in heaven." With statesmanlike sagacity, they foresaw the
advantages of a united government. They celebrated, therefore, the
adoption of the Constitution by rejoicings and festivals, such, perhaps,
as have not since been witnessed. Emblematic representations, long
processions of all the trades, and whatever else might contribute to the
joyous demonstration of gratified patriotism, distinguished the
occasion. Gentlemen, I can say with great truth, that an occasion
intended to manifest respect to me could have originated nowhere with
more satisfaction to myself than with the mechanics of Boston.
I am bound to make my acknowledgments to other classes of citizens who
assemble here to join with the mechanics in the purpose of this meeting.
I see with pleasure the successors and followers of the Mathers, of
Clarke, and of Cooper; and I am gratified, also, by the presence of
those of my own profession, in whose immediate presence and society so
great a portion of my life has been passed. It is natural that I should
value highly this proof of their regard. We have walked the same paths,
we have listened to the same oracles, we have been guided together by
the lights of Dana, and Parsons, and Sewall, and Parker, not to mention
living names, not unknown or unhonored either at home or abroad. As I
honor the profession, so I honor and respect its worthy members, as
defenders of truth, as supporters of law and liberty, as men who ever
act on steady principles of honor and justice, and from whom no one,
with a right cause, is turned away, though he may come clothed in rags.
Mingling in this vast assembly, I perceive, Gentlemen, many citizens who
bear an appellation which is honored, and which deserves to be honored,
wherever a spirit of enlightened liberality, humanity, and charity finds
regard and approbation among men, I mean the appellation of Boston
merchants. In a succession of generations, they have contributed
uniformly to great objects of public interest and advantage. They have
founded institutions of learning, of piety, and of charity. They have
explored the field of human misfortune and calamity; they have sought
out the causes of vice, and want, and ignorance, and have sought them
only that they might be removed and extirpated. They have poured out
like water the wealth acquired by their industry and honorable
enterprise, to relieve the necessities of poverty, administer comfort to
the wretched, soothe the ravings of distressed insanity, open the eyes
of the blind, unstop the ears of the deaf, and shed the light of
knowledge, and the reforming influences of religion where ignorance and
crime have abounded. How am I to commend, not only single acts of
benevolence, but whole lives of benevolence, such as this? May He reward
them,--may that Almighty Being reward them, in whose irreversible
judgment, in that day which is to come, the merit even of the widow's
mite shall outweigh the advantages of all the pomp and grandeur of the
world!
Gentlemen, citizens of Boston, I have been in the midst of you for
twenty years. It is nearly sixteen years since, quite unexpectedly to
myself, you saw fit to require public service at my hands and to place
me in the national legislature. If, in that long period, you have found
in my public conduct something to be approved, and more to be forgiven
than to be reprehended, and if we meet here to-day better friends for so
many years of acquaintance and mutual confidence, I may well esteem
myself happy in the enjoyment of a high reward.
I offer you again, fellow-citizens, my grateful acknowledgments, and
all my sincere and cordial good wishes; and I propose to you as a
toast:--
"The City of Boston: May it continue to be the head-quarters of good
principles, till the blood of the Revolutionary patriots shall have run
through a thousand generations!"
FOOTNOTES
[113] Speech delivered at a Public Dinner in Faneuil Hall, given by the
Citizens of Boston to Mr. Webster, at the Close of the Session
of Congress, on the 24th of July, 1838.
[114] An extra session of Congress had been called by President Van
Buren, in September, 1837, in consequence of the general
suspension of specie payments by the banks.
[115] Hon. John Davis.
[116] See the Speech above, page 383.
ROYAL AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY.[117]
In the spring of 1839, Mr. Webster went for a short time to England.
He went in no public capacity, but his reputation had preceded him,
and he was received with every mark of the most distinguished
consideration. He was present at several public festivals, and his
addresses appear to have made a deep impression on those who heard
them. The following is the only one, however, which was reported at
any length. It was delivered at the first Triennial Celebration of
the Royal Agricultural Society, held at Oxford, on the 18th of July.
Three thousand persons were at table. Earl Spencer presided, and, in
introducing Mr. Webster, said they had "already drunk the health of
a foreign minister who was present, but they had the honor and
advantage of having among them other foreigners, not employed in any
public capacity, who had come among them for the purpose of seeing a
meeting of English farmers, such as he believed never had been
witnessed before, but which he hoped might often be seen again.
Among these foreigners was one gentleman, of a most distinguished
character, from the United States of America, that great country,
whose people we were obliged legally to call foreigners, but who
were still our brethren in blood. It was most gratifying to him that
such a man was present at that meeting, that he might know what the
farmers of England really were, and be able to report to his
fellow-citizens the manner in which they were united, from every
class, in promoting their peaceful and most important objects." He
gave,--
"The health of Mr. Webster, and other distinguished strangers."
The toast was received with much applause.
MR. WEBSTER said the notice which the noble Earl at the head of the
table had been kind enough to take of him, and the friendly sentiments
which he had seen fit to express towards the country to which he
belonged, demanded his most cordial acknowledgments. He should therefore
begin by saying how much he was gratified in having it in his power to
pass one day among the proprietors, the cultivators, the farmers, of Old
England; that England of which he had been reading and conversing all
his life, and now for once had the pleasure of visiting.
I would say, in the next place, continued Mr. Webster, if I could say,
how much I have been pleased and gratified with one portion of the
exhibition for which we are indebted to the formation of the Royal
Agricultural Society, and that is, the assemblage of so large a number
of the farmers of England. When persons connected with some pursuit, of
whatever description, assemble in such numbers, I cannot look on them
but with respect and regard; but I freely confess that I am more than
ordinarily moved on all such occasions, when I see before me, on either
continent, a great assemblage of those whose interests, whose hopes,
whose objects and pursuits in life, are connected with the cultivation
of the soil.
Whatever else may tend to enrich and beautify society, that which feeds
and clothes comfortably the great mass of mankind should always be
regarded as the great foundation of national prosperity. I need not say
that the agriculture of England is instructive to all the world; as a
science, it is here better understood; as an art, it is here better
practised; as a great interest, it is here as highly esteemed as in any
other part of the globe.
The importance of agriculture to a nation is obvious to every man; but
it, perhaps, does not strike every mind so suddenly, although certainly
it is equally true, that the annual produce of English agriculture is a
great concern to the whole civilized world. The civilized and commercial
states are so connected, their interests are so blended, that it is a
matter of notoriety, that the fear or the prospect of a short crop in
England deranges and agitates the business transactions and commercial
speculations of the whole trading world.
It is natural that this should be the case in those nations which look
to the occurrence of a short crop in England as an occasion which may
enable them to dispose profitably of their own surplus produce. But the
fact goes much farther, for when such an event occurs in the English
capital,--the centre of commercial speculations, where the price of
commodities is settled and arranged for the whole world, where the
exchanges between nations are conducted and concluded,--its consequences
are felt everywhere, as no one knows better than the noble Earl who
occupies the chair. Should there be a frost in England fifteen days
later than usual in the spring, should there be an unseasonable drought,
or ten cold and wet days, instead of ten warm and dry ones, when the
harvest is reaped, every exchange in Europe and America is more or less
affected by the result.
I will not pursue these remarks. [Loud cries of "Go on! Go on!"] I must,
however, say, that I entertain not the slightest doubt of the great
advantage to the interest of agriculture which must result from the
formation and operation of this society. Is it not obvious to the most
common observer, that those who cultivate the soil have not the same
conveniences, opportunities, and facilities of daily intercourse and
comparison of opinions, as the commercial and manufacturing interests?
Those who are associated in the pursuits of commerce and manufactures
naturally congregate together in cities; they have immediate means of
frequent communication. Their sympathies, feelings, and opinions are
instantaneously circulated, like electricity, through the whole body.
But how is it with the cultivators of the soil? Separated, spread
over a thousand fields, each attentive to his own acres, they have
only occasional opportunities of communicating with each other. If
among commercial men chambers of commerce, and other institutions of
that character,--if among the trades guilds are found expedient, how
much more necessary and advisable to have some such institutions as
this society, which, at least annually, shall bring together the
representatives of the great agricultural interest!
In many parts of the country to which I belong, there are societies
upon a similar principle, which have been found very advantageous.
As with you, they offer rewards for specimens of fine animals, and for
implements of husbandry supposed to excel those which have been known
before. They turn their attention to every thing designed to facilitate
the operations of the farmer, and improve his stock, and interest in the
country. Among other means of improving agriculture, they have
imported largely from the best breeds of animals known in England. I am
sure that a gentleman who has to-day deservedly obtained many prizes
for stock will not be displeased to learn that I have seen, along the
rich pastures of the Ohio and its tributary streams, animals raised
from those which had been furnished by his farms in Yorkshire and
Northumberland.
But, apart from this subject, I beg leave to make a short response to
the very kind sentiments, which went near to my heart, as uttered by the
noble Earl at the head of the table.
The noble chairman was pleased to speak of the people of the United
States as kindred in blood with the people of England. I am an American.
I was born on that great continent and I am wedded to the fortunes of my
country, for weal or for woe. There is no other region of the earth
which I can call my country. But I know, and I am proud to know, what
blood flows in these veins.
I am happy to stand here to-day, and to remember, that, although my
ancestors, for several generations, lie buried beneath the soil of the
western continent, yet there has been a time when my ancestors and your
ancestors toiled in the same cities and villages, cultivated adjacent
fields, and worked together to build up that great structure of civil
polity which has made England what England is.
When I was about to embark for this country, some friends asked me what
I was going to England for. To be sure, Gentlemen, I came for no object
of business, public or private; but I told them I was coming to see the
elder branch of the family. I told them I was coming to see my distant
relations, my kith and kin of the old Saxon race.
With regard to whatsoever is important to the peace of the world, its
prosperity, the progress of knowledge and of just opinions, the
diffusion of the sacred light of Christianity, I know nothing more
important to the promotion of those best interests of humanity, and the
cause of the general peace, amity, and concord, than the good feeling
subsisting between the Englishmen on this side of the Atlantic, and the
descendants of Englishmen on the other.
Some little clouds have overhung our horizon,--I trust they will soon
pass away. I am sure that the age we live in does not expect that
England and America are to have controversies carried to the extreme,
upon any occasion not of the last importance to national interests and
honor.
We live in an age when nations, as well as individuals, are subject to a
moral responsibility. Neither governments nor people--thank God for
it!--can now trifle with the general sense of the civilized world; and I
am sure that the civilized world would hold your country and my country
to a very strict account, if, without very plain and apparent reason,
deeply affecting the independence and great interests of the nation, any
controversy between them should have other than an amicable issue.
I will venture to say that each country has intelligence enough to
understand all that belongs to its just rights, and is not deficient in
means to maintain them; and if any controversy between England and
America were to be pushed to the extreme of force, neither party would
or could have any signal advantage over the other, except what it could
find in the justice of its cause and the approbation of the world.
With respect to the occasion which has called us together, I beg to
repeat the gratification which I have felt in passing a day in such a
company, and to conclude with the most fervent expression of my wish for
the prosperity and usefulness of the Agricultural Society of England.
FOOTNOTES
[117] Address at the Triennial Celebration of the Royal Agricultural
Society of England, at Oxford on the 18th of July, 1839.
THE AGRICULTURE OF ENGLAND.[118]
Mr. Webster has at all periods of life cherished a strong attachment
to agricultural pursuits. Of late years, when not obliged to be at
Washington, in the discharge of his public duties, he has resided
wholly on his farm at Marshfield, Massachusetts. The condition of
the agriculture of England was one of the objects which most
received his attention, during his short visit to that country in
1839. On his return to the United States in January, 1840, a strong
desire was entertained by his friends to meet him on some public
occasion, and a wish was expressed, particularly by many members of
the Legislature of Massachusetts, who were in the habit of holding
occasional meetings for the discussion of agricultural subjects, to
learn the result of his observations on the present state of English
agriculture. These wishes were communicated to Mr. Webster, and an
early day was appointed for a meeting, at which the following
remarks were made by him.
MR. CHAIRMAN, I would observe in the outset of these remarks, that I
regard agriculture as the leading interest of society; and as having, in
all its relations, a direct and intimate bearing upon human comfort and
the national prosperity. I have been familiar with its operations in my
youth; and I have always looked upon the subject with a lively and deep
interest. I do not esteem myself to be particularly qualified to judge
of the subject in all its various aspects and departments; and I neither
myself regard, nor would I have others regard, my opinions as
authoritative. But the subject has been one of careful observation to
me, both in public and private life; and my visit to Europe, at a season
of the year particularly favorable for this purpose, has given me the
opportunity of seeing its improved husbandry, and as far as it may be
interesting, or can have a bearing upon the subject of the evening's
discussion, the agriculture of Massachusetts, I will, as the meeting
appear to expect, say a few words upon what has attracted my notice.
How far, in a question of this kind, the example of other countries is
to be followed, is an inquiry worthy of much consideration. The example
of a foreign country may be too closely followed. It will furnish a safe
rule of imitation only as far as the circumstances of the one country
correspond with those of the other.
The great objects of agriculture, and the great agricultural products of
England and of Massachusetts, are much the same. Neither country
produces olives, nor rice, nor cotton, nor the sugar-cane. Bread, meat,
and clothing are the main productions of both. But, although the great
productions are mainly the same, there are many diversities of condition
and circumstances, and various modes of culture.
The primary elements which enter into the consideration of the
agriculture of a country are four,--climate, soil, price of land, and
price of labor. In any comparison, therefore, of the agriculture of
England with that of Massachusetts, these elements are to be taken
particularly into view.
The climate of England differs essentially from that of this country.
England is on the western side of the eastern, and we on the eastern
side of the western continent. The climate of all countries is
materially affected by their respective situations in relation to the
ocean. The winds which prevail most, both in this country and in
England, are from the west. It is known that the wind blows, in our
latitude, from some point west to some point east, on an average of
years, nearly or quite three days out of four. These facts are familiar.
The consequences resulting from them are, that our winters are colder
and our summers much hotter than in England. Our latitude is about that
of Oporto, yet the temperature is very different. On these accounts,
therefore, the maturing of the crops in England, and the power of using
these crops, creates a material difference between its agriculture and
ours. It may be supposed that our climate must resemble that of China in
the same latitudes; and this fact may have an essential bearing upon
that branch of agriculture which it is proposed to introduce among us,
the production of silk.
The second point of difference between the two countries lies in the
soil. The soil of England is mainly argillaceous, a soft and unctuous
loam upon a substratum of clay. This may be considered as the
predominant characteristic in the parts which I visited. The soil in
some of the southern counties of England is thinner; some of it is what
we should call stony; much of it is a free, gravelly soil, with some
small part which, with us, would be called sandy. Through a great extent
of country, this soil rests on a deep bed of chalk. Ours is a granite
soil. There is granite in Great Britain; but this species of soil
prevails in Scotland, a part of the country which more resembles our
own. We may have some lands as good as any in England. Our alluvial
soils on Connecticut River, and in some other parts of the country, are
equal to any lands; but these have not, ordinarily, a wide extent of
clay subsoil. The soil of Massachusetts is harder, more granitic, less
abounding in clay, and altogether more stony, than the soil of England.
The surface of Massachusetts is more uneven, more broken with mountain
ridges, more diversified with hill and dale, and more abundant in
streams of water, than that of England.
The price of land in that county, another important element in
agricultural calculations, differs greatly from the price of land with
us. It is three times as high as in Massachusetts, at least.
On the other hand, the price of agricultural labor is much higher in
Massachusetts than in England. The price of labor varies considerably in
different parts of England; but it may be set down as twice as dear with
us here.
These are the general remarks which have suggested themselves to me in
regard to the state of things abroad. Now, have we any thing to learn
from them? Is there any thing in the condition of England applicable to
us, or in regard to which the agriculture of England may be of use to
Massachusetts and other countries?
The subject of agriculture, in England, has strongly attracted the
attention and inquiries of men of science. They have studied
particularly the nature of the soil. More than twenty years ago, Sir
Humphrey Davy undertook to treat the subject of the application of
chemical knowledge to agriculture in the analysis of soils and manures.
The same attention has been continued to the subject; and the
extraordinary discoveries and advances in chemical science, since his
time, are likely to operate greatly to the advantage of agriculture. The
best results may be expected from them. These inquiries are now
prosecuted in France with great enthusiasm and success. We may hope for
like beneficial results here from the application of science to the same
objects.
But although the circumstances of climate and situation, and nature of
the soil, form permanent distinctions which cannot be changed, yet there
are other differences, resulting from different modes of culture, and
different forms of applying labor; and it is to these differences that
our attention should be particularly directed. Here, there is much to
learn. English cultivation is more scientific, more systematic, and more
exact, a great deal, than ours. This is partly the result of necessity.
A vast population is to be supported on comparatively a small surface.
Lands are dear, rents are high, and hands, as well as mouths, are
numerous. Careful and skillful cultivation is the natural result of this
state of things. An English farmer looks not merely to the present
year's crop. He considers what will be the condition of the land when
that crop is off; and what it will be fit for the next year. He studies
to use his land so as not to abuse it. On the contrary, his aim is to
get crop after crop, while still the land shall be growing better and
better. If he should content himself with raising from the soil a large
crop this year, and then leave it neglected and exhausted, he would
starve. It is upon this fundamental idea of constant production without
exhaustion, that the system of English cultivation, and, indeed, of all
good cultivation, is founded. England is not original in this. Flanders,
and perhaps Italy, have been her teachers. This system is carried out in
practice by a well-considered rotation of crops. The form or manner of
this rotation, in a given case, is determined very much by the value of
the soil, and partly by the local demand for particular products. But
some rotation, some succession, some variation in the annual productions
of the same land, is essential. No tenant could obtain a lease, or, if
he should, could pay his rent and maintain his family, who should wholly
disregard this. White crops (wheat, barley, rye, oats, &c.) are not to
follow one another. Our maize, or Indian corn, must be considered a
white crop; although, from the quantity of stalk and leaf which it
produces, and which are such excellent food for cattle, it is less
exhausting than some other white crops; or, to speak more properly, it
makes greater returns to the land. The cultivation of maize has not,
however, been carried to any extent in England. Green crops are turnips,
potatoes, beets, vetches, or tares (which are usually eaten while
growing, by cattle and sheep, or cut for green food), and clover. Buck
or beech wheat, and winter oats,--thought to be a very useful
product,--are regarded also as green crops, when eaten on the land; and
so, indeed, may any crop be considered, which is used in this way. But
the turnip is the great green crop of England. Its cultivation has
wrought such changes, in fifty years, that it may be said to have
revolutionized English agriculture.
Before that time, when lands became exhausted by the repetition of
grain crops, they were left, as it was termed, fallow; that is, were
not cultivated at all, but left to recruit themselves as they might.
This occurred as often as every fourth year, so that one quarter of
the arable land was always out of cultivation, and yielded nothing.
Turnips are now substituted in the place of these naked fallows; and
now land in turnips is considered as fallow. What is the philosophy of
this? The raising of crops, even of any, the most favorable crop, does
not, in itself, enrich, but in some degree exhausts, the land. The
exhaustion of the land, however, as experience and observation have
fully demonstrated, takes place mainly when the seeds of a plant are
allowed to perfect themselves. The turnip is a biennial plant. It
does not perfect its seed before it is consumed.
There is another circumstance in respect to the turnip plant which
deserves consideration. Plants, it is well understood, derive a large
portion of their nutriment from the air. The leaves of plants are their
lungs. The leaves of turnips expose a wide surface to the atmosphere,
and derive, therefore, much of their subsistence and nutriment from
these sources. The broad leaves of the turnips likewise shade the
ground, preserve its moisture, and prevent, in some measure, its
exhaustion by the sun and air.
The turnips have a further and ultimate use. Meat and clothing come from
animals. The more animals are sustained upon a farm, the more meat and
the more clothing. These things bear, of course, a proportion to the
number of bullocks, sheep, swine, and poultry which are maintained. The
great inquiry, then, is, What kind of crops will least exhaust the land
in their cultivation, and furnish, at the same time, support to the
largest number of animals?
A very large amount of land, in England, is cultivated in turnips.
Fields of turnips of three, four, and even five hundred acres, are
sometimes seen, though the common fields are much less; and it may be
observed here, that, in the richest and best cultivated parts of
England, enclosures of ten, fifteen, twenty, or thirty acres seemed more
common. Since the introduction of the turnip culture, bullocks and sheep
have trebled in number. Turnips, for the reasons given, are not great
exhausters of the soil; and they furnish abundant food for animals. Let
us suppose that one bushel of oats or barley may be raised at the same
cost as ten bushels of turnips, and will go as far in support of stock.
The great difference in the two crops is to be found in the farmer's
barn-yard. Here is the test of their comparative value. This is the
secret of the great advantages which follow from their cultivation. The
value of manure in agriculture is well appreciated. M'Queen states the
extraordinary fact, that the value of the animal manure annually applied
to the crops in England, at current prices, surpasses in value the whole
amount of its foreign commerce. There is no doubt that it greatly
exceeds it. The turnip crop returns a vast amount of nutritive matter to
the soil. The farmer, then, from his green crops, and by a regular
system of rotation, finds green fodder for his cattle and wheat for the
market.
Among the lighter English soils is that of the county of Norfolk, a
county, however, which I had not the pleasure of visiting. Its soil, I
understand, is light, a little inclined to sand, or light loam. Such
soils are not unfavorable to roots. Here is the place of the remarkable
cultivation and distinguished improvements of that eminent cultivator,
Mr. Coke, now Earl of Leicester. In these lands, as I was told, a common
rotation is turnips, barley, clover, wheat. These lands resemble much of
the land in our county of Plymouth, and the sandy lands to be found in
the vicinity of the Connecticut and Merrimack Rivers. The cultivation of
green crops in New England deserves attention. There is no incapacity in
our soil, and there are no circumstances unfavorable to their
production. What would be the best kind of succulent vegetables to be
cultivated, whether turnips or carrots, I am not prepared to say. But
no attempts, within my knowledge, have been made among us of a
systematic agriculture; and until we enter upon some regular rotation of
crops, and our husbandry becomes more systematic, no distinguished
success can be looked for. As to our soil, as has been remarked, there
is no inherent incapacity for the production of any of the common crops.
We can raise wheat in Massachusetts. The average crop in England is
twenty-six bushels to the acre. From my own farm, where the soil is
comparatively thin and poor, I have obtained this summer seventy-six
bushels of wheat upon three acres of land. It is not, therefore, any
want of capability in the soil; but the improvement and success of our
husbandry must depend upon a succession of crops adapted to the
circumstances of our soil, climate, and peculiar condition.
In England, a large portion of the turnip crop is consumed on the land
where it grows. The sheep are fed out of doors all winter; and I saw
many large flocks, in the aggregate thousands and even millions of
sheep, which were never housed. This was matter of surprise, especially
considering the wetness of the climate; and these sheep are often
exposed in fields where a dry spot cannot be found for them to lie down
upon. Sheep are often folded in England by wattled fences, or hurdles
temporarily erected in different parts of the field, and removed from
place to place, as the portions of the crop thus fenced off are
consumed. In some cases they are folded, and the turnips dug and carried
to them. In such cases, they are always fed upon lands which are
intended the next year to be, as far as practicable, brought under
cultivation. I have seen many laborers in fields, employed in drawing
the turnips, splitting them, and scattering them over the land, for the
use of the sheep, which is considered better, often, than to leave the
sheep to dig for themselves. These laborers are so employed all winter,
and if the ground should become frozen, the turnips are taken up with a
bar. Together with the turnips, it is thought important that sheep
should have a small quantity of other food. Chopped hay, sometimes a
little oil-cake, or oats, is usually given. This is called _trough_
food, as it is eaten in troughs, standing about in the field. In so
moist a climate as that of England, some land is so wet that, in the
farmer's phrase, it will not _carry sheep_; that is, it is quite too
wet for sheep to lie out upon it. In such cases, the turnips must be
_carried_, that is, removed from the field, and fed out elsewhere. The
last season was uncommonly wet, and for that reason, perhaps, I could
not so well judge; but it appeared to me that it would be an improvement
in English husbandry, to furnish for sheep, oftener than is done, not
only a tolerably dry ground to lie on, but some sort of shelter against
the cold rains of winter. The turnips, doubtless, are more completely
consumed, when dug, split, and fed out. The Swedish turnip, I have
little doubt, is best suited to cold climates. It is scarcely injured by
being frozen in the ground in the winter, as it will thaw again, and be
still good, in spring. In Scotland, in the Lothians, where cultivation
is equal to that in any part of England, it is more the practice than
farther south to house turnips, or draw them, and cover them from frost.
I have been greatly pleased with Scotch farming, and as the climate and
soil of Scotland more resemble the soil and climate of Massachusetts
than those of England do, I hope the farmers of Massachusetts will
acquaint themselves, as well as they can, with Scotch husbandry. I had
the pleasure of passing some time in Scotland, with persons engaged in
these pursuits, and acknowledge myself much instructed by what I learned
from them, and saw in their company. The great extent of the use of
turnips and other green crops in Scotland is evidence that such crops
cannot be altogether unsuited to Massachusetts.
Among the subjects which of late years have engaged much of the
attention of agriculturists in England, few are more important than that
of tile draining. This most efficient and successful mode of draining
is getting into very extensive use. Much of the soil of England, as
I have already stated, rests on a clayey and retentive subsoil.
Excessive wetness is prejudicial and destructive to the crops.
Marginal drains, or drains on the outside of the fields, do not
produce the desired results. These tile-drains have effected most
important improvements. The tile itself is made of clay, baked like
bricks; it is about one foot in length, four inches in width, three
fourths of an inch in thickness, and it stands from six to eight
inches in height, being hemispherical, or like the half of a cylinder,
with its sides elongated. It somewhat resembles the Dutch tiles which
are seen on the roofs of the old houses in Albany and New York. A
ditch is sunk, eighteen or twenty inches in depth, and these drains
are multiplied over a field, sometimes at a distance of only seven
yards apart. The ditch or drain being dug, these tiles are laid down,
with the hollow side at bottom, on the smooth clay, or any other firm
subsoil, the sides placed near to each other, some little straw thrown
over the joints to prevent the admission of dirt, and the whole covered
up. This is not so expensive a mode of draining as might be supposed.
The ditch or drain need only be narrow, and tiles are of much cheaper
transportation than stone would be. But the result is so important as
well to justify the expense. It is estimated that this thorough
draining adds often twenty per cent. to the production of the wheat
crop. A beautiful example came under my observation in Nottinghamshire,
not long before I left England. A gentleman was showing me his grounds
for next year's crop of wheat. On one side of the lane, where the land
had been drained, the wheat was already up and growing luxuriantly; on
the other, where the land was subject to no other disadvantage than
that it had not been drained, it was still too wet to be sowed at
all. It may be thought singular enough, but it is doubtless true, that,
on stiff, clayey lands, thorough draining is as useful in dry, hot
summers as in cold and wet summers; for such land, if a wet winter
or spring be suddenly followed by hot and dry weather, is apt to become
hard and baked, so that the roots of plants cannot enter it. Thorough
draining, by giving an opportunity to the water on the surface to be
constantly escaping, corrects this evil. Draining can never be
needed to so great an extent in Massachusetts as in England and
Scotland, from the different nature of the soil; but we have yet
quantities of low meadow lands, producing wild, harsh, sour grasses,
or producing nothing, which, there is little doubt, might be rendered
most profitable hay-fields, by being well drained. When we understand
better the importance of concentrating labor, instead of scattering
it,--when we shall come to estimate duly the superior profit of "a
little farm, well tilled," over a great farm, half cultivated and half
manured, overrun with weeds, and scourged with exhausting crops,--we
shall then fill our barns, and double the winter fodder for our cattle
and sheep by the products of these waste meadows.
There is in England another mode of improvement, most important,
instances of which I have seen, and one of which I regard as the most
beautiful agricultural improvement which has ever come under my
observation. I mean irrigation, or the making of what are called _water
meadows_. I first saw them in Wiltshire, and was much struck with them,
not having before understood, from reading or conversation, exactly what
they were. But I afterwards had an opportunity of examining a most
signal and successful example of this mode of improvement, on the
estates of the Duke of Portland, in the North of England, on the borders
of Sherwood forest. Indeed, it was part of the old forest known by that
name. Sherwood forest, at least in its present state, is not like the
pine forests of Maine, the heavy, hard wood forests of the unredeemed
lands of New Hampshire and Vermont, or the still heavier timbered lands
of the West. It embraces a large extent of country, with various soils,
some of them thin and light, with beautiful and venerable oaks, of
unknown age, much open ground between them and underneath their
wide-spread branches, and this covered with heather, lichens, and fern.
Sherwood forest, indeed, is not less interesting for the natural beauty
which charms the eye, than for its venerable antiquity and historical
associations. But in many parts the soil is far enough from being rich.
Upon the borders of this forest are the water meadows of which I am
speaking. A little river runs through the forest in this part, at the
bottom of a valley with sides moderately sloping, and of considerable
extent, between the river at the bottom and the common level of the
surrounding country above. This little river, before reaching the place,
runs through a small town, and gathers, doubtless, some refuse matter in
its course. From this river, the water is taken at the upper end of the
valley, conducted along the edge, or bank, in a canal or carrier, and
from this carrier, at proper times, suffered to flow out very gently,
spreading over and irrigating the whole surface, trickling and shining,
when I saw it, (and it was then November,) among the light-green of the
new-springing grass, and collected below in another canal, from which it
is again let out, to flow in like manner over land lying still farther
down towards the bottom of the valley. Ten years ago, this land, for
production, was worth little or nothing. I was told that some of it had
been let, for no more than a shilling an acre. It has not been manured,
and yet is now most extensively productive. It is not flooded; the water
does not stand upon it; it flows gently over, and is applied several
times in a year to each part, say in March, May, July, and October. In
November, when I saw it, the farmers were taking off the third crop of
hay cut this season, and that crop was certainly not less than two tons
to the acre. This last crop is mostly used as green food for cattle.
When I speak of the number of tons, I mean tons of dried hay. After this
crop was off, sheep were to be put on it, to have lambs at Christmas, so
as to come into market in March, a time of year when they command a high
price. Upon taking off the sheep in March, the land would be watered.
The process of watering lasts two or three days, or perhaps eight or ten
days, according to circumstances, and is repeated after the taking off
of each successive crop. Although this water has no doubt considerable
sediment in it, yet the general fact shows how important water itself is
to the growth of plants, and how far, even, it may supply the place of
other sources of sustenance. Now we in Massachusetts have a more uneven
surface, more valleys with sloping sides, by many times more streams,
and such a climate that our farms suffer much oftener from drought than
farms in England. May we not learn something useful, therefore, from
such examples of irrigation in that country?
With respect to implements of husbandry, I am of opinion that the
English, upon the whole, have no advantage over us. Their wagons and
carts are no better; their ploughs, I thought, not better anywhere, and
in some counties far inferior, because unnecessarily heavy. The subsoil
plough, for which we have little use, is esteemed a useful invention,
and the mole plough, which I have seen in operation, and the use of
which is to make an underground drain, without disturbing the surface,
is an ingenious contrivance, likely to be useful in clay soils, free
from stone and gravel, but which can be little used in Massachusetts. In
general, the English utensils of husbandry seemed to me unnecessarily
cumbrous and heavy. The ploughs, especially, require a great strength of
draught. But as drill husbandry is extensively practised in England, and
very little with us, the various implements, or machines, for
drill-sowing in that country quite surpass all we have. I do not
remember to have seen the horse-rake used in England, although I saw in
operation implements for spreading hay from the swath to dry, or rather,
perhaps, for turning it, drawn by horses.
There are other matters connected with English agriculture, upon which I
might say a word or two. Crops are cultivated in England, of which we
know little. The common English field bean, a small brown bean, growing
not on a clinging vine, like some varieties of the taller bean, runs in
what is called with us the bush form, like our common white bean, upon a
slight, upright stalk, two or two and a half feet high, and producing
from twenty to forty bushels to the acre. It is valuable as food for
animals, especially for horses. This bean does not grow well in thin
soils, or what is called a hot bottom. A strong, stiff, clayey land,
well manured, suits it best. Vetches, or tares, a sort of pea, are very
much cultivated in England, although almost unknown here, and are there
either eaten green, by sheep, on the land, or cut and carried for green
food.
The raising of sheep in England is an immense interest. England probably
clips fifty millions of fleeces this year, lambs under a year old not
being shorn. The average yield may be six or seven pounds to a fleece.
There are two principal classes of sheep in England, the long-wooled and
the short-wooled. Among these are many varieties, but this is the
general division or classification. The Leicester and the South Down
belong, respectively, to these several families. The common clip of the
former may be estimated from seven to eight pounds; and of the last,
from three to three and a half, or four. I mention these particulars
only as estimates; and much more accurate information may doubtless be
obtained from many writers. In New England, we are just beginning to
estimate rightly the importance of raising sheep. England has seen it
much earlier, and is pursuing it with far more zeal and perseverance.
Our climate, as already observed, differs from that of England; but the
great inquiry, applicable in equal force to both countries, is, How can
we manage our land in order to produce the largest crops, while, at the
same time, we keep up the condition of the land, and place it, if
possible, in a course of gradual improvement? The success of farming
must depend, in a considerable degree, upon the animals produced and
supported on the farm. The farmer may calculate, in respect to animals,
upon two grounds of profit, the natural growth of the animal, and the
weight obtained by fattening. The skilful farmer, therefore, expects,
where he gains one pound in the fattening of his animal, to gain an
equal amount in the growth. The early maturity of stock is consequently
a point of much importance.
Oxen are rarely reared in England for the yoke. In Devonshire and
Cornwall, ox teams are employed; but in travelling one thousand miles in
England, I saw only one ox team, and in that case they were driven one
before the other, and in harnesses similar to those of horses. Bullocks
are raised for the market. It is highly desirable, therefore, both in
respect to neat cattle and sheep, that their growth should be rapid, and
their fattening properties favorable, that they may be early disposed
of, and the expense of production proportionably lessened.
Is it practicable, on the soil and in the climate of Massachusetts, to
pursue a succession of crops? I cannot question it; and I have entire
confidence in the improvements to our husbandry, and the other great
advantages, which would accrue from judicious rotation of products. The
capacities of the soil of Massachusetts are undoubted. One hundred
bushels of corn to an acre have been repeatedly produced, and other
crops in like abundance. But this will not effect the proper ends of a
judicious and profitable agriculture, unless we can so manage our
husbandry that, by a judicious and proper succession of the crops, land
will not only be restored after an exhausting crop, but gradually
enriched by cultivation. It is of the highest importance that our
farmers should increase their power of sustaining live stock, that they
may obtain in that way the means of improving their farms.
The breed of cattle in England is greatly improved, and still improving.
I have seen some of the best stocks, and many individual animals from
others, and think them admirable. The short-horned cattle brought to
this country are often very good specimens. I have seen the flocks from
which some of them have been selected, and they are certainly among the
best in England. But in every selection of stock, we are to regard our
own climate, and our own circumstances. We raise oxen for work, as well
as for beef; and I am of opinion that the Devonshire stock furnishes
excellent animals for our use We have suffered that old stock, brought
hither by our ancestors, to run down, and be deteriorated. It has been
kept up and greatly improved in England, and we may now usefully import
from it. The Devonshire ox is a hardy animal, of size and make suited to
the plough, and though certainly not the largest for beef, yet generally
very well fattened. I think quite well, also, of the Ayrshire cows. They
are good milkers, and, being a hardy race, are on that account well
suited to a cold climate and to the coarse and sometimes scanty
pasturage of New England. After all, I think there can be no doubt that
the improved breed of short horns are the finest cattle in the world,
and should be preferred wherever plenty of good fodder and some mildness
of climate invite them. They are well fitted to the Western States,
where there is an overflowing abundance, both of winter and summer
fodder, and where, as in England, bullocks are raised for beef only. I
have no doubt, also, that they might be advantageously raised in the
rich valleys of the Connecticut, and perhaps in some other favored parts
of the State. But for myself, as a farmer on the thin lands of Plymouth
County, and on the bleak shores of the sea, I do not feel that I could
give to animals of this breed that entertainment which their merit
deserves.
As to sheep, the Leicesters are like the short-horned cattle. They must
be kept well; they should always be fat; and, pressed by good keeping to
early maturity, they are found very profitable. "Feed well," was the
maxim of the great Roman farmer, Cato; and that short sentence comprises
much of all that belongs to the profitable economy of live stock. The
South Downs are a good breed, both for wool and mutton. They crop the
grass that grows on the thin soils, over beds of chalk, in Wiltshire,
Hampshire, and Dorsetshire. They ought not to scorn the pastures of New
England.
When we turn our thoughts to the condition of England, we must perceive
of what immense importance is every, even the smallest, degree of
improvement in its agricultural productions. Suppose that, by some new
discovery, or some improved mode of culture, only one per cent. could be
added to the annual results of English cultivation; this, of itself,
would materially affect the comfortable subsistence of millions of human
beings. It is often said that England is a garden. This is a strong
metaphor. There is poor land and some poor cultivation in England. All
people are not equally industrious, careful, and skillful. But, on the
whole, England is a prodigy of agricultural wealth. Flanders may
possibly surpass it. I have not seen Flanders; but England quite
surpasses, in this respect, whatever I have seen. In associations for
the improvement of agriculture we have been earlier than England. But
such associations now exist there. I had the pleasure of attending the
first meeting of the Royal Agricultural Society of England, and I found
it a very pleasant and interesting occasion. Persons of the highest
distinction for rank, talents, and wealth were present, all zealously
engaged in efforts for the promotion of the agricultural interest. No
man in England is so high as to be independent of the success of this
great interest; no man so low as not to be affected by its prosperity or
its decline. The same is true, eminently and emphatically true, with us.
Agriculture feeds us; to a great degree it clothes us; without it we
could not have manufactures, and we should not have commerce. These all
stand together, but they stand together like pillars in a cluster, the
largest in the centre, and that largest is agriculture. Let us remember,
too, that we live in a country of small farms and freehold tenements; a
country in which men cultivate with their own hands their own fee-simple
acres, drawing not only their subsistence, but also their spirit of
independence and manly freedom, from the ground they plough. They are at
once its owners, its cultivators, and its defenders. And, whatever else
may be undervalued or overlooked, let us never forget that the
cultivation of the earth is the most important labor of man. Man may be
civilized, in some degree, without great progress in manufactures and
with little commerce with his distant neighbors. But without the
cultivation of the earth, he is, in all countries, a savage. Until he
gives up the chase, and fixes himself in some place and seeks a living
from the earth, he is a roaming barbarian. When tillage begins, other
arts follow. The farmers, therefore, are the founders of human
civilization.
FOOTNOTES
[118] Remarks on the Agriculture of England, made at a Meeting of the
Legislature of Massachusetts, and others interested in
Agriculture, held at the State-House in Boston, on the Evening
of the 13th of January, 1840.
END OF VOLUME FIRST.
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