Project Gutenberg's The World's Best Orations, Vol. 1 (of 10), by Various
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Title: The World's Best Orations, Vol. 1 (of 10)
Author: Various
Release Date: November 27, 2004 [EBook #14182]
Language: English
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE WORLD'S BEST ORATIONS, ***
Produced by Kent Fielden
THE WORLD'S BEST ORATIONS, Vol. 1 (of 10)
THE ADVISORY COUNCIL
The Right Hon. Sir Charles Wentworth Dilke. Bart., Member of
Parliament--Author of 'Greater Britain,' etc., London, England.
William Draper Lewis, PH. D., Dean of the Department of Law,
University Of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia.
William P. Trent, M.A., Professor of English and History, Colombia
University, in the city of New York.
W. Stuart Symington, Jr., PH. D., Professor of the Romance Languages,
Amherst College, Amherst, Mass.
Alcee Fortier, Lit.D., Professor of the Romance Languages,
Tulane University, New Orleans, La.
William Vincent Byars, Journalist, St Louis, Mo.
Richard Gottheil, PH. D., Professor of Oriental Languages,
Columbia University, in the city of New York.
Austin H. Merrill, A.M., Professor of Elocution, Vanderbilt
University, Nashville, Tenn.
Sheldon Jackson. D. D., LL. D., Bureau of Education, Washington, D. C.
A. Marshall Elliott, PH.D. LL. D., Professor of the Romance Languages,
Johns Hopkins University, Baltimore, Md.
John W. Million, A.M., President of Hardin College, Mexico, Mo.
J. Raymond Brackett. PH. D., Dean of the College of Liberal Arts,
and Professor of Comparative Literature, University Of
Colorado, Boulder, Colo.
W. F. Peirce. M.A., LL. D., President Of Kenyox College, Gambier,
Ohio.
S. Plantz, PH.D., D. D., President of Lawrence University,
Appleton, Wis.
George Tayloe Winston, LL.D., President of the University Of Texas,
Austin, Texas.
TABLE OF CONTENTS
VOL. I
Preface: Justice David J. Brewer
The Oratory Of Anglo-Saxon Countries: Prof. Edward A. Allen
ABELARD, PIERRE 1079-1142
The Resurrection of Lazarus
The Last Entry into Jerusalem
The Divine Tragedy
ADAMS, CHARLES FRANCIS 1807-1886
The States and the Union
ADAMS, CHARLES FRANCIS, JUNIOR 1835-
The Battle of Gettysburg
ADAMS, JOHN 1735-1826
Inaugural Address
The Boston Massacre
ADAMS, JOHN QUINCY 1767-1848
Oration at Plymouth Lafayette The
Jubilee of the Constitution
ADAMS, SAMUEL 1722-1803
American Independence
AELRED 1109-1166
A Farewell
A Sermon after Absence
On Manliness
AESCHINES 389-314 B. C.
Against Crowning Demosthenes
AIKEN, FREDERICK A. 1810-1878
Defense of Mrs. Mary E, Surratt
ALBERT THE GREAT (ALBERTUS MAGNUS) 1205-1280
The Meaning of the Crucifixion
The Blessed Dead
ALLEN, ETHAN
A Call to Arms
AMES, FISHER 1758-1808
On the British Treaty
ANSELM, SAINT 1032-1109
The Sea of Life
ARNOLD, THOMAS 1795-1842
The Realities of Life and Death
ARTHUR, CHESTER ALAN 1830-1886
Inaugural Address
ATHANASIUS 298-373
The Divinity of Christ
AUGUSTINE, SAINT 354-430
The Lord's Prayer
BACON, FRANCIS 1561-1626
Speech against Dueling
BARBOUR, JAMES 1775-1842
Treaties as Supreme Laws
BARNAVE, ANTOINE PIERRE JOSEPH MARIE 1761-1793
Representative Democracy against Majority Absolutism
Commercial Politics
BARROW, ISAAC 1630-1677
Slander
BASIL THE GREAT 329-379
On a Recreant Nan
BAXTER, RICHARD 1615-1691
Unwillingness to Improve
BAYARD. JAMES A. 1767-1815
The Federal Judiciary
Commerce and Naval Power
BAYARD, THOMAS F. 1828-1898
A Plea for Conciliation in 1876
BEACONSFIELD, LORD 1804-1881
The Assassination of Lincoln
Against Democracy for England
The Meaning of "Conservatism"
BEDE, THE VENERABLE 672-735
The Meeting of Mercy and Justice
A Sermon for Any Day
The Torments of Hell
BEECHER. HENRY WARD 1813-1887
Raising the Flag over Fort Sumter
Effect of the Death of Lincoln
BELHAVEN, LORD 1656-1708
A Plea for the National Life of Scotland
BELL, JOHN 1797-1869
Against Extremists, North and South
Transcontinental Railroads
BENJAMIN, JUDAH P. 1811-1884
Farewell to the Union
Slavery as Established by Law
PREFACE
Oratory is the masterful art. Poetry, painting, music, sculpture,
architecture please, thrill, inspire; but oratory rules. The orator
dominates those who hear him, convinces their reason, controls their
judgment, compels their action. For the time being he is master.
Through the clearness of his logic, the keenness of his wit, the
power of his appeal, or that magnetic something which is felt and
yet cannot be defined, or through all together, he sways his
audience as the storm bends the branches of the forest. Hence it is
that in all times this wonderful power has been something longed for
and striven for. Demosthenes, on the beach, struggling with the
pebbles in his mouth to perfect his articulation, has been the great
example. Yet it is often true of the orator, as of the poet;
_nascitur_ _non_ _fit_. Patrick Henry seemed to be inspired as
"Give me liberty or give me death" rolled from his lips. The
untutored savage has shown himself an orator.
Who does not delight in oratory? How we gather to hear even an
ordinary speaker! How often is a jury swayed and controlled by the
appeals of counsel! Do we not all feel the magic of the power, and
when occasionally we are permitted to listen to a great orator how
completely we lose ourselves and yield in willing submission to the
imperious and impetuous flow of his speech! It is said that after
Webster's great reply to Hayne every Massachusetts man walking down
Pennsylvania Avenue seemed a foot taller.
This marvelous power is incapable of complete preservation on the
printed page. The presence, the eye, the voice, the magnetic touch,
are beyond record. The phonograph and kinetoscope may some day seize
and perpetuate all save the magnetic touch, but that weird,
illusive, indefinable yet wonderfully real power by which the orator
subdues may never be caught by science or preserved for the cruel
dissecting knife of the critic. It is the marvelous light flashing
out in the intellectual heavens which no Franklin has yet or may
ever draw and tie to earth by string of kite.
But while there is a living something which no human art has yet been
able to grasp and preserve, there is a wonderful joy and comfort in
the record of that which the orator said. As we read we see the very
picture, though inarticulate, of the living orator. We may never know
all the marvelous power of Demosthenes, yet _Proton_, _meg_, _o_
_andres_ _Athenaioi_, suggests something of it. Cicero's silver speech
may never reach our ears, and yet who does not love to read _Quousque_
_tandem_ _abutere_, _O_ _Catilina_, _patientia_ _nostra_? So if on
the printed page we may not see the living orator, we may look upon
his picture--the photograph of his power. And it is this which it is
the thought and purpose of this work to present. We mean to
photograph the orators of the world, reproducing the words which they
spake, and trusting to the vivid imagination of the thoughtful reader
to put behind the recorded words the living force and power. In this
we shall fill a vacant place in literature. There are countless books
of poetry in which the gems of the great poets of the world have been
preserved, but oratory has not been thus favored. We have many
volumes which record the speeches of different orators, sometimes
connected with a biography of their lives and sometimes as independent
gatherings of speeches. We have also single books, like Goodrich's
'British Eloquence,' which give us partial selections of the great
orations. But this is intended to be universal in its reach, a
complete encyclopedia of oratory. The purpose is to present the best
efforts of the world's greatest orators in all ages; and with this
purpose kept in view as the matter of primary importance, to
supplement the great orations with others that are representative and
historically important--especially with those having a fundamental
connection with the most important events in the development of
Anglo-Saxon civilization. The greatest attention has been given to
the representative orators of England and America, so that the work
includes all that is most famous or most necessary to be known in the
oratory of the Anglo-Saxon race. Wherever possible, addresses have
been published in extenso. This has been the rule followed in giving
the great orations. In dealing with minor orators, the selections
made are considerable enough to show the style, method, and spirit.
Where it has been necessary to choose between two orations of equal
merit, the one having the greater historical significance has been
selected. Of course it would not be possible, keeping within
reasonable limits, to give every speech of every one worthy to be
called an orator. Indeed, the greatest of orators sometimes failed.
So we have carefully selected only those speeches which manifest the
power of eloquence; and this selection, we take pleasure in assuring
our readers, has been made by the most competent critics of the
country.
We have not confined ourselves to any one profession or field of
eloquence. The pulpit, the bar, the halls of legislation, and the
popular assembly have each and all been called upon for their best
contributions. The single test has been, is it oratory? the single
question, is there eloquence? The reader and student of every class
will therefore find within these pages that which will satisfy his
particular taste and desire in the matter of oratory.
As this work is designed especially for the American reader, we have
deemed it proper to give prominence to Anglo-Saxon orators; and yet
this prominence has not been carried so far as to make the work a
one-sided collection. It is not a mere presentation of American or
even of English-speaking orators. We submit the work to the American
public in the belief that all will find pleasure, interest, and
instruction in its pages, and in the hope that it will prove an
Inspiration to the growing generation to see to it that oratory be
not classed among the "lost arts," but that it shall remain an
ever-present and increasing power and blessing to the world.
David J. Brewer
THE ORATORY OF ANGLO-SAXON COUNTRIES
By Edward A. Allen, Professor of Anglo-Saxon and English Literature
in the University of Missouri
English-speaking people have always been the freest people, the
greatest lovers of liberty, the world has ever seen. Long before
English history properly begins, the pen of Tacitus reveals to us
our forefathers in their old home-land in North Germany beating back
the Roman legions under Varus, and staying the progress of Rome's
triumphant car whose mighty wheels had crushed Hannibal, Jugurtha,
Vercingetorix, and countless thousands in every land. The Germanic
ancestors of the English nation were the only people who did not
bend the neck to these lords of all the world besides. In the year
9, when the Founder of Christianity was playing about his humble
home at Nazareth, or watching his father at work in his shop, our
forefathers dealt Rome a blow from which she never recovered. As
Freeman, late professor of history at Oxford, said in one of his
lectures: "In the blow by the Teutoburg wood was the germ of the
Declaration of Independence, the germ of the surrender of Yorktown."
Arminius was our first Washington, "_haud_ _dubie_ _liberator_," as
Tacitus calls him,--the savior of his country.
When the time came for expansion, and our forefathers in the fifth
century began the conquest and settlement of the island that was to
become their New England, they pushed out the Celts, the native
inhabitants of the island, just as their descendants, about twelve
hundred years later, were to push out the indigenous people of this
continent, to make way for a higher civilization, a larger
destiny. No Englishman ever saw an armed Roman in England, and
though traces of the Roman conquest may be seen everywhere in that
country to-day, it is sometimes forgotten that it was the Britain of
the Celts, not the England of the English, which was held for so
many centuries as a province of Rome.
The same love of freedom that resisted the Roman invasion in the
first home of the English was no less strong in their second home,
when Alfred with his brave yeomen withstood the invading Danes at
Ashdown and Edington, and saved England from becoming a Danish
province. It is true that the Normans, by one decisive battle,
placed a French king on the throne of England, but the English
spirit of freedom was never subdued; it rose superior to the
conquerors of Hastings, and in the end English speech and English
freedom gained the mastery.
The sacred flame of freedom has burned in the hearts of the
Anglo-Saxon race through all the centuries of our history, and this
spirit of freedom is reflected in our language and in our
oratory. There never have been wanting English orators when English
liberty seemed to be imperiled; indeed, it may be said that the
highest oratory has always been coincident with the deepest
aspirations of freedom.
It is said of Pitt,--the younger, I believe,--that he was fired to
oratory by reading the speeches in Milton's 'Paradise Lost.' These
speeches--especially those of Satan, the most human of the
characters in this noble epic,--when analyzed and traced to their
source, are neither Hebrew nor Greek, but English to the core. They
are imbued with the English spirit, with the spirit of Cromwell,
with the spirit that beat down oppression at Marston Moor, and
ushered in a freer England at Naseby. In the earlier Milton of a
thousand years before, whether the work of Caedmon or of some other
English muse, the same spirit is reflected in Anglo-Saxon
words. Milton's Satan is more polished, better educated, thanks to
Oxford and Cambridge, but the spirit is essentially one with that of
the ruder poet; and this spirit, I maintain, is English.
The dry annals of the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle are occasionally lighted
up with a gleam of true eloquence, as in the description of the
battle of Brunanburh, which breaks forth into a pean of
victory. Under the year 991, there is mention of a battle at Maldon,
between the English and the Danes, in which great heroism must have
been displayed, for it inspired at the time one of the most
patriotic outbursts of song to be found in the whole range of
English literature. During an enforced truce, because of a swollen
stream that separated the two armies, a messenger is sent from the
Danes to Byrhtnoth, leader of the English forces, with a proposition
to purchase peace with English gold. Byrhtnoth, angry and resolute,
gave him this answer:--
"Hearest thou, pirate, what this folk sayeth? They will give you
spears for tribute, weapons that will avail you nought in
battle. Messenger of the vikings, get thee back. Take to thy people
a sterner message, that here stands a fearless earl, who with his
band wilt defend this land, the home of Aethelred, my prince, folk
and fold. Too base it seems to me that ye go without battle to your
ships with our money, now that ye have come thus far into our
country. Ye shall not so easily obtain treasure. Spear and sword,
grim battle-play, shall decide between us ere we pay tribute."
Though the battle was lost and Byrhtnoth slain, the spirit of the
man is an English inheritance. It is the same spirit that refused
ship-money to Charles I., and tea-money to George III.
The encroachments of tyranny and the stealthier step of royal
prerogative have shrunk before this spirit which through the
centuries has inspired the noblest oratory of England and
America. It not only inspired the great orators of the mother
country, it served at the same time as a bond of sympathy with the
American colonies in their struggle for freedom. Burke, throughout
his great speech on Conciliation, never lost sight of this idea:--
"This fierce spirit of liberty is stronger in the English colonies
probably than in any other people of the earth. The people of the
colonies are descendants of Englishmen. England, sir, is a nation
which still, I hope, respects, and formerly adored, her freedom. The
colonists emigrated from you when this part of your character was
most predominant; and they took this bias and direction the moment
they parted from your bands. They are therefore not only devoted to
liberty, but to liberty according to English ideas and our English
principles. ... The temper and character which prevail in our
colonies are, I am afraid, unalterable by any human art. We cannot,
I fear, falsify the pedigree of this fierce people, and persuade
them that they are not sprung from a nation in whose veins the blood
of freedom circulates. The language in which they would hear you
tell them this tale would detect the imposition; your speech would
betray you. ... In order to prove that Americans have no right to
their liberties, we are every day endeavoring to subvert the maxims
which preserve the whole spirit of our own. To prove that
the Americans ought not to be free, we are obliged to depreciate the
value of freedom itself; and we never gain a paltry advantage over
them in debate without attacking some of those principles, or deriding
some of those feelings, for which our ancestors have shed their blood.
. . . As long as you have the wisdom to keep the sovereign authority
of this country as the sanctuary of liberty, the sacred temple
consecrated to our common faith, wherever the chosen race and sons of
England worship freedom they will turn their faces towards you. The
more ardently they love liberty the more perfect will be their
obedience. Slavery they can have anywhere--it is a weed that grows in
every soil. They can have it from Spain; they may have it from
Prussia. But until you become lost to all feeling of your true
interest and your natural dignity, freedom they can have from none but
you."
So, too, in the speeches of Chatham, the great Commoner, whose
eloquence has never been surpassed, an intense spirit of liberty,
the animating principle of his life, shines out above all things
else. Though opposed to the independence of the colonies, he could
not restrain his admiration for the spirit they manifested:--
"The Americans contending for their rights against arbitrary
exactions I love and admire. It is the struggle of free and virtuous
patriots. ... My Lords, you cannot conquer America. You may swell
every expense and every effort still more extravagantly; pile and
accumulate every assistance you can buy or borrow; traffic and
barter with every pitiful little German prince that sells and sends
his subjects to the shambles of a foreign prince; your efforts are
forever vain and impotent If I were an American as I am an
Englishman, while a foreign troop was landed in my country I would
never lay down my arms--never--never--never!"
Wherever the principle of Anglo-Saxon freedom and the rights of man
have been at stake, the all-animating voice of the orator has kept
alive the sacred flame. In the witenagemote of the earlier tongs, in
the parliament of the later kings, in the Massachusetts town-meeting
and in the Virginia House of Burgesses, in the legislature of every
State, and in the Congress of the United States, wherever in
Anglo-Saxon countries the torch of liberty seemed to burn low, the
breath of the orator has fanned it into flame. It fired the
eloquence of Sheridan pleading against Warren Hastings for the
down-trodden natives of India in words that have not lost their
magnetic charm:--
"My Lords, do you, the judges of this land and the expounders of its
rightful laws, do you approve of this mockery and call that the
character of Justice which takes the form of right to execute wrong?
No. my Lords, justice is not this halt and miserable object; it is
not the ineffective bauble of an Indian pagoda; it is not the
portentous phantom of despair; it is not like any fabled monster,
formed in the eclipse of reason and found in some unhallowed grove
of superstitious darkness and political dismay. No, my Lords! In the
happy reverse of all this I turn from the disgusting caricature to
the real image. Justice I have now before me, august and pure, the
abstract ideal of all that would be perfect in the spirits and
aspirings of men--where the mind rises; where the heart expands;
where the countenance is ever placid and benign; where the favorite
attitude is to stoop to the unfortunate, to hear their cry, and help
them; to rescue and relieve, to succor and save; majestic from its
mercy, venerable from its utility, uplifted without pride, firm
without obduracy, beneficent in each preference, lovely though in
her frown."
This same spirit fired the enthusiasm of Samuel Adams and James Otis
to such a pitch of eloquence that "every man who heard them went
away ready to take up arms." It inspired Patrick Henry to hurl his
defiant alternative of "liberty or death" in the face of unyielding
despotism. It inspired that great-hearted patriot and orator, Henry
Clay, in the first quarter of this century, to plead, single-handed
and alone, in the Congress of the United States, session after
session before the final victory was won, for the recognition of the
provinces of South America in their struggle for independence.
"I may be accused of an imprudent utterance of my feelings on this
occasion. I care not: when the independence, the happiness, the
liberty of a whole people is at stake, and that people our
neighbors, our brethren, occupying a portion of the same continent,
imitating our example, and participating in the same sympathies with
ourselves. I will boldly avow my feelings and my wishes in their
behalf, even at the hazard of such an imputation. I maintain that an
oppressed people are authorized, whenever they can, to rise and
break their fetters. This was the great principle of the English
revolution. It was the great principle of our own. Spanish-America
has been doomed for centuries to the practical effects of an odious
tyranny. If we were justified, she is more than justified. I am no
propagandist. I would not seek to force upon other nations our
principles and our liberty, if they do not want them. But if an
abused and oppressed people will their freedom; if they seek to
establish it; if, in truth, they have established it, we have a
right, as a sovereign power, to notice the fact, and to act as
circumstances and our interest require. I will say in the language
of the venerated father of my country, 'born in a land of liberty,
my anxious recollections, my sympathetic feelings, and my best
wishes, are irresistibly excited, whensoever, in any country, I see
an oppressed nation unfurl the banners of freedom.'"
This same spirit loosed the tongue of Wendell Phillips to plead the
cause of the enslaved African in words that burned into the hearts
of his countrymen. It emboldened George William Curtis to assert the
right to break the shackles of party politics and follow the
dictates of conscience:--
"I know,--no man better,--how hard it is for earnest men to
separate their country from their party, or their religion from
their sect. But, nevertheless, the welfare of the country is dearer
than the mere victory of party, as truth is more precious than the
interest of any sect. You will hear this patriotism scorned as an
impracticable theory, as the dream of a cloister, as the whim of a
fool. But such was the folly of the Spartan Leonidas, staying with
his three hundred the Persian horde, and teaching Greece the
self-reliance that saved her. Such was the folly of the Swiss Arnold
von Winkelried, gathering into his own breast the points of Austrian
spears, making his dead body the bridge of victory for his
countrymen. Such was the folly of the American Nathan Hale, gladly
risking the seeming disgrace of his name, and grieving that be had
but one life to give for his country. Such are the beacon-lights of
a pure patriotism that burn forever in men's memories and answer
each other through the illuminated ages."
So long as there are wrongs to be redressed, so long as the strong
oppress the weak, so long as injustice sits in high places, the
voice of the orator will be needed to plead for the rights of
man. He may not, at this stage of the republic, be called upon to
sound a battle cry to arms, but there are bloodless victories to be
won as essential to the stability of a great nation and the
uplifting of its millions of people as the victories of the
battlefield.
When the greatest of modern political philosophers, the author of
the Declaration of Independence, urged that, if men were left free
to declare the truth the effect of its great positive forces would
overcome the negative forces of error, he seems to have hit the
central fact of civilization. Without freedom of thought and
absolute freedom to speak out the truth as one sees it, there can be
no advancement, no high civilization. To the orator who has heard
the call of humanity, what nobler aspiration than to enlarge and
extend the freedom we have inherited from our Anglo-Saxon
forefathers, and to defend the hope of the world?
Edward A. Allen
PIERRE ABELARD (1079-1142)
Abelard's reputation for oratory and for scholarship was so great
that he attracted hearers and disciples from all quarters. They
encamped around him like an army and listened to him with such
eagerness that the jealousy of some and the honest apprehension of
others were excited by the boldness with which he handled religious
subjects. He has been called the originator of modern rationalism,
and though he was apparently worsted in his contest with his great
rival, St. Bernard, he remains the most real and living personality
among the great pulpit orators of the Middle Ages. This is due in
large part, no doubt, to his connection with the unfortunate
Heloise. That story, one of the most romantic, as it is one of the
saddest of human history, must be passed over with a mere mention of
the fact that it gave occasion for a number of the sermons of
Abelard which have come down to us. Several of those were preached
in the convent of the Paraclete of which Heloise became abbess,--
where, in his old age, her former lover, broken with the load of a
life of most extraordinary sorrows, went to die. These sermons do
not suggest the fire and force with which young Abelard appealed to
France, compelling its admiration even in exciting its alarm, but
they prevent him from being a mere name as an orator.
He was born near Nantes, A. D. 1079. At his death in 1142, he was
buried in the convent of the Paraclete, where the body of Heloise
was afterwards buried at his side.
The extracts from his sermons here given were translated by
Rev. J. M. Neale, of Sackville College, from the first collected
edition of the works of Abelard, published at Paris in 1616. There
are thirty-two such sermons extant. They were preached in Latin, or,
at least, they have come down to us in that language.
THE RESURRECTION OF LAZARUS
The Lord performed that miracle once for all in the body which much
more blessedly he performs every day in the souls of penitents. He
restored life to Lazarus, but it was a temporal life, one that would
die again. He bestows life on the penitent; life, but it is life
that will remain, world without end. The one is wonderful in the
eyes of men; the other is far more wonderful in the judgment of the
faithful; and in that it is so much the greater, by so much the more
is it to be sought. This is written of Lazarus, not for Lazarus
himself, but for us and to us. "Whatsoever things," saith the
Apostle, "were written of old, were written for our learning." The
Lord called Lazarus once, and he was raised from temporal death. He
calls us often, that we may rise from the death of the soul. He said
to him once, "Come forth!" and immediately he came forth at one
command of the Lord. The Lord every day invites us by Scripture to
confession, exhorts us to amendment, promises the life which is
prepared for us by him who willeth not the death of a sinner. We
neglect his call, we despise his invitation, we contemn his promise.
Placed between God and the devil, as between a father and a foe, we
prefer the enticement of the enemy to a father's warning. "We are
not ignorant," says the Apostle, "of the devices of Satan,"--the
devices, I say, by which he induces us to sin, and keeps us back
from repentance. Suggesting sin, he deprives us of two things by
which the best assistance might be offered to us, namely, shame and
fear. For that which we avoid, we avoid either through fear of some
loss, or through the reverence of shame.... When, therefore, Satan
impels any one to sin, he easily accomplishes the object, if, as we
have said, he first deprives him of fear and shame. And when he has
effected that, he restores the same things, but in another sense,
which he has taken away; that so he may keep back the sinner from
confession, and make him die in his sin. Then he secretly whispers
into his soul: "Priests are light-minded, and it is a difficult
thing to check the tongue. If you tell this or that to them, it
cannot remain a secret; and when it shall have been published
abroad, you will incur the danger of losing your good character, or
bearing some injury, and being confounded from your own vileness."
Thus the devil deceives that wretched man; he first takes from
him that by which he ought to avoid sin, and then restores the same
thing, and by it retains him in sin. His captive fears temporal, and
not spiritual, evil; he is ashamed before men and he despises
God. He is ashamed that things should come to the knowledge of men
which he was not ashamed to commit in the sight of God, and of the
whole heavenly host. He trembles at the judgment of man, and he has
no respect to that of God. Of which the Apostle says: "It is a
fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God"; and the
Truth saith himself, "Fear not them that kill the body, and after
that have no more that they can do; but fear him rather who can cast
body and soul into hell."
There are diseases of the soul, as there are of the body; and
therefore the Divine mercy has provided beforehand physicians for
both. Our Lord Jesus Christ saith, "I came not to call the
righteous, but sinners to repentance." His priests now hold his
place in the Church, to whom, as unto physicians of the soul, we
ought to confess our sins, that we may receive from them the
plaister of satisfaction. He that fears the death of the body, in
whatever part of the body he may suffer, however much he may be
ashamed of the disease, makes no delay in revealing it to the
physician, and setting it forth, so that it may be cured. However
rough, however hard may be the remedy, he avoids it not, so that he
may escape death. Whatever he has that is most precious, he makes no
hesitation in giving it, if only for a little while he may put off
the death of the body. What, then, ought we to do for the death of
the soul? For this, however terrible, may be forever prevented,
without such great labor, without such great expense. The Lord seeks
us ourselves, and not what is ours. He stands in no need of our
wealth who bestows all things. For it is he to whom it is said, "My
goods are nothing unto thee." With him a man is by so much the
greater, as, in his own judgment, he is less. With him a man is as
much the more righteous, as in his own opinion he is the more
guilty. In his eyes we hide our faults all the more, the more that
here by confession we manifest them.
THE LAST ENTRY INTO JERUSALEM
"He came unto his own, and his own received him not." That is, he
entered Jerusalem. Yet now he entered, not Jerusalem, which by
interpretation is "The Vision of Peace," but the home of
tyranny. For now the elders of the city have so manifestly conspired
against him, that he can no longer find a place of refuge within
it. This is not to be attributed to his helplessness but to his
patience. He could be harbored there securely, seeing that no one
can do him harm by violence, and that he has the power to incline
the hearts of men whither he wills. For in that same city he freely
did whatever he willed to do; and when he sent his disciples
thither, and commanded them that they should loose the ass and the
colt, and bring them to him, and said that no man would forbid them,
he accomplished that which he said, although he was not ignorant of
the conspiracy against himself. Of which he saith to his disciples
whom he sends, "Go ye into the castle over against you"; that is, to
the place which is equally opposed to God and to you; no longer to
be called a city, an assembly of men living under the law, but a
castle of tyrannical fortification. Go confidently, saith he, into
the place, though such it is, and though it is therefore opposed to
you, and do with all security that which I command you. Whence he
adds, also: "And if any man say aught unto you, say that the Lord
hath need of them, and he will straightway send them away." A
wonderful confidence of power! As if the Lord, using his own right
of command, lays his own injunction on those whom he knows already
to have conspired for his death. Thus he commands, thus he enjoins,
thus he compels obedience. Nor do they who are sent hesitate in
accomplishing that which is laid upon them, confident as they are in
the strength of the power of him who sends them. By that power they
who were chiefly concerned in this conspiracy had been more than
once ejected from the Temple, where many were not able to resist
one. And they, too, after this ejection and conspiracy, as we have
said, when he was daily teaching in the Temple, knew how intrepid he
showed himself to be, into whose hands the Father had given all
things. And last of all, when he desired to celebrate the Passover
in the same night in which he had foreordained to be betrayed, he
again sent his Disciples whither he willed, and prepared a home for
himself in the city itself, wherein he might keep the feast. He,
then, who so often showed his power in such things as these, now
also, if he had desired it, could have prepared a home wherever he
would, and had no need to return to Bethany. Therefore, he did these
two things intentionally: he showed that they whom he avoided were
unworthy of his dwelling among them; and he gave himself, in the
last hours of his life, to his beloved hosts, that they might have
their own reception of him as the reward of their hospitality.
THE DIVINE TRAGEDY
Whether, therefore, Christ is spoken of as about to be crowned or
about to be crucified, it is said that he "went forth"; to signify
that the Jews, who were guilty of so great wickedness against him,
were given over to reprobation, and that his grace would now pass to
the vast extent of the Gentiles, where the salvation of the Cross,
and his own exaltation by the gain of many peoples, in the place of
the one nation of the Jews, has extended itself. Whence, also,
to-day we rightly go forth to adore the Cross in the open plain;
showing mystically that both glory and salvation had departed from
the Jews, and had spread themselves among the Gentiles. But in that
we afterwards returned (in procession) to the place whence we had
set forth, we signify that in the end of the world the grace of God
will return to the Jews; namely, when, by the preaching of Enoch and
Elijah, they shall be converted to him. Whence the Apostle: "I would
not, brethren, that ye should be ignorant of this mystery, that
blindness in part has fallen upon Israel, until the fullness of the
Gentiles shall be come, and so all Israel shall be saved." Whence
the place itself of Calvary, where the Lord was crucified, is now,
as we know, contained in the city; whereas formerly it was without
the walls. "The crown wherewith his Mother crowned him in the day of
his espousals, and in the day of the gladness of his heart." For
thus kings are wont to exhibit their glory when they betroth queens
to themselves, and celebrate the solemnities of their nuptials. Now
the day of the Lord's crucifixion was, as it were, the day of his
betrothal; because it was then that he associated the Church to
himself as his bride, and on the same day descended into Hell, and,
setting free the souls of the faithful, accomplished in them that
which he had promised to the thief: "Verily I say unto thee, to-day
shalt thou be with me in Paradise."
"To-day," he says, of the gladness of his heart; because in his body
he suffered the torture of pain; but while the flesh inflicted on
him torments through the outward violence of men, his soul was filled
with joy on account of our salvation, which he thus brought to
pass. Whence, also, when he went forth to his crucifixion, he
stilled the women that were lamenting him, and said, "Daughters of
Jerusalem, weep not for me, but weep for yourselves and your
children." As if he said, "Grieve not for me in these my sufferings,
as if by their means I should fall into any real destruction; but
rather lament for that heavy vengeance which hangs over you and your
children, because of that which they have committed against me." So
we, also, brethren, should rather weep for ourselves than for him;
and for the faults which we have committed, not for the punishments
which he bore. Let us so rejoice with him and for him, as to grieve
for our own offenses, and for that the guilty servant committed the
transgression, while the innocent Lord bore the punishment. He
taught us to weep who is never said to have wept for himself, though
he wept for Lazarus when about to raise him from the dead.
CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS (1807-1886)
The son of one President of the United States and the grand-son of
another, Charles Francis Adams won for himself in his own right a
position of prominence in the history of his times. He studied law
in the office of Daniel Webster, and after beginning practice was
drawn into public life by his election to the Massachusetts
legislature in which he served from 1831 to 1838. A Whig in politics
until the slavery issue became prominent, he was nominated for
Vice-President on the Free Soil ticket with Van Buren in 1848. The
Republican party which grew out of the Free Soil movement elected
him to Congress as a representative of the third Massachusetts
district in 1858 and re-elected him in 1860. In 1861 President
Lincoln appointed him minister to England, and he filled with credit
that place which had been filled by his father and grandfather
before him. He died November 21st, 1886, leaving besides his own
speeches and essays an edition of the works of John and John Quincy
Adams in twenty-two volumes octavo.
THE STATES AND THE UNION
(Delivered in the House of Representatives, January 31st, 1861)
I confess, Mr. Speaker, that I should be very jealous, as a citizen
of Massachusetts, of any attempt on the part of Virginia, for
example, to propose an amendment to the Constitution designed to
rescind or abolish the bill of rights prefixed to our own form of
government. Yet I cannot see why such a proposition would be more
unjustifiable than any counter proposition to abolish slavery in
Virginia, as coming from Massachusetts. If I have in any way
succeeded in mastering the primary elements of our forms of
government, the first and fundamental idea is, the reservation to
the people of the respective States of every power of regulating
their own affairs not specifically surrendered in the Constitution.
The security of the State governments depends upon the fidelity
with which this principle is observed.
Even the intimation of any such interference as I have mentioned by
way of example could not be made in earnest without at once shaking
the entire foundation of the whole confederated Union. No man shall
exceed me in jealousy of affection for the State rights of Massachusetts.
So far as I remember, nothing of this kind was ever thought of
heretofore; and I see no reason to apprehend that what has not
happened thus far will be more likely to happen hereafter. But if
the time ever come when it does occur, I shall believe the
dissolution of the system to be much more certain than I do at this
moment.
For these reasons, I cannot imagine that there is the smallest
foundation for uneasiness about the intentions of any considerable
number of men in the free States to interfere in any manner whatever
with slavery in the States, much less by the hopeless mode of
amending the Constitution. To me it looks like panic, pure panic.
How, then, is it to be treated? Is it to be neglected or ridiculed?
Not at all. If a child in the nursery be frightened by the idea of a
spectre, common humanity would prompt an effort by kindness to
assuage the alarm. But in cases where the same feeling pervades the
bosoms of multitudes of men, this imaginary evil grows up at once
into a gigantic reality, and must be dealt with as such. It is at
all times difficult to legislate against a possibility. The
committee have reported a proposition intended to meet this case.
It is a form of amendment of the Constitution which, in substance,
takes away no rights whatever which the free States ever should
attempt to use, whilst it vests exclusively in the slave States the
right to use them or not, as they shall think proper, the whole
treatment of the subject to which they relate being conceded to be a
matter of common interest to them, exclusively within their
jurisdiction, and subject to their control. A time may arrive, in
the course of years, when they will themselves desire some act of
interference in a friendly and beneficent spirit. If so, they have
the power reserved to them of initiating the very form in which it
would be most welcome. If not, they have a security, so long as this
government shall endure, that no sister State shall dictate any
change against their will.
I have now considered all the alleged grievances which have thus far
been brought to our attention, 1. The personal liberty laws, which
never freed a slave. 2. Exclusion from a Territory which
slaveholders will never desire to occupy. 3. Apprehension of an
event which will never take place. For the sake of these three
causes of complaint, all of them utterly without practical result,
the slaveholding States, unquestionably the weakest section of this
great Confederacy, are voluntarily and precipitately surrendering
the realities of solid power woven into the very texture of a
government that now keeps nineteen million freemen, willing to
tolerate, and, in one sense, to shelter, institutions which, but for
that, would meet with no more sympathy among them than they now do
in the remainder of the civilized world.
For my own part, I must declare that, even supposing these alleged
grievances to be more real than I represent them, I think the
measures of the committee dispose of them effectually and
forever. They contribute directly all that can be legitimately done
by Congress, and they recommend it to the legislatures of the States
to accomplish the remainder. Why, then, is it that harmony is not
restored? The answer is, that you are not satisfied with this
settlement, however complete. You must have more guarantees in the
Constitution. You must make the protection and extension of slavery
in the Territories now existing, and hereafter to be acquired, a
cardinal doctrine of our great charter. Without that, you are
determined to dissolve the Union. How stands the case, then? We
offer to settle the question finally in all of the present territory
that you claim, by giving you every chance of establishing slavery
that you have any right to require of us. You decline to take the
offer, because you fear it will do you no good. Slavery will not go
there. But, if that be true, what is the use of asking for the
protection anyhow, much less in the Constitution? Why require
protection where you will have nothing to protect? All you appear to
desire it for is New Mexico. Nothing else is left. Yet, you will not
accept New Mexico at once, because ten years of experience have
proved to you that protection has been of no use thus far. But, if
so, how can you expect that it will be of so much more use hereafter
as to make it worth dissolving the Union?
But, if we pass to the other condition, is it any more reasonable?
Are we going to fight because we cannot agree upon the mode of
disposing of our neighbor's lands? Are we to break up the Union of
these States, cemented by so many years of common sufferings, and
resplendent with so many years of common glory, because it is
insisted that we should incorporate into what we regard as the
charter of our freedom a proclamation to the civilized world that we
intend to grasp the territory of other nations whenever we can do
it, for the purpose of putting into it certain institutions which
some of us disapprove, and that, too, whether the people inhabiting
that territory themselves approve of it or not?
I am almost inclined to believe that they who first contrived this
demand must have done so for the sake of presenting a condition
which they knew beforehand must be rejected, or which, if accepted,
must humiliate us in the dust forever. In point of fact, this
proposal covers no question of immediate moment which may not be
settled by another and less obnoxious one. Why is it, then,
persevered in, and the other rejected? The answer is obvious. You
want the Union dissolved. You want to make it impossible for
honorable men to become reconciled. If it be, indeed, so, then on
you, and you alone, shall rest the responsibility of what may
follow. If the Union be broken up, the reason why it happened shall
remain on record forever. It was because you rejected one form of
settling a question which might be offered and accepted with honor,
in order to insist upon another which you knew we could not accept
without disgrace. I answer for myself only when I say that, if the
alternative to the salvation of the Union be only that the people of
the United States shall, before the Christian nations of the earth,
print in broad letters upon the front of their charter of republican
government the dogma of slave propagandism over the remainder of the
countries of the world, I will not consent to brand myself with what
I deem such disgrace, let the consequences be what they may.
But it is said that this answer closes the door of reconciliation.
The slaveholding States will secede, and what then?
This brings me to the last point which I desire to touch today, the
proper course for the government to pursue in the face of these
difficulties. Some of the friends with whom I act have not hesitated
to express themselves in favor of coercion; and they have drawn very
gloomy pictures of the fatal consequences to the prosperity and
security of the whole Union that must ensue. For my own sake, I am
glad that I do not partake so largely in these fears. I see no
obstacle to the regular continuance of the government in not less
than twenty States, and perhaps more, the inhabitants of which have
not in a moment been deprived of that peculiar practical wisdom in
the management of their affairs which is the secret of their past
success. Several new States will, before long, be ready to take
their places with us and make good, in part, the loss of the old
ones. The mission of furnishing a great example of free government
to the nations of the earth will still be in our hands, impaired, I
admit, but not destroyed; and I doubt not our power to accomplish it
yet in spite of the temporary drawback. Even the problem of coercion
will go on to solve itself without our aid. For if the sentiment of
disunion become so far universal and permanent in the dissatisfied
States as to show no prospect of good from resistance, and there be
no acts of aggression attempted on their part, I will not say that I
may not favor the idea of some arrangement of a peaceful character,
though I do not now see the authority under which it can be originated.
The new Confederacy can scarcely be other than a secondary Power. It
can never be a maritime State. It will begin with the necessity of
keeping eight millions of its population to watch four millions, and
with the duty of guarding, against the egress of the latter, several
thousand miles of an exposed border, beyond which there will be no
right of reclamation. Of the ultimate result of a similar experiment,
I cannot, in my own mind, have a moment's doubt. At the last session
I ventured to place on record, in this House, a prediction by which
I must abide, let the effect of the future on my sagacity be what it
may. I have not yet seen any reason to doubt its accuracy. I now
repeat it. The experiment will ignominiously fail.
But there are exceptions to the adoption of this peaceful policy
which it will not be wise to overlook. If there be violent and
wanton attacks upon the persons or the property of the citizens of
the United States or of their government, I see not how demands for
immediate redress can be avoided. If any interruptions should be
attempted of the regular channels of trade on the great
water-courses or on the ocean, they cannot long be permitted. And if
any considerable minorities of citizens should be persecuted or
proscribed on account of their attachment to the Union, and should
call for protection, I cannot deny the obligation of this government
to afford it. There are persons in many of the States whose
patriotic declarations and honorable pledges of support of the Union
may bring down upon them more than the ill-will of their infatuated
fellow-citizens. It would be impossible for the people of the United
States to look upon any proscription of them with indifference.
These are times which should bring together all men, by whatever
party name they may have been heretofore distinguished, upon common
ground.
When I heard the gentlemen from Virginia the other day so bravely
and so forcibly urging their manly arguments in support of the
Union, the Constitution, and the enforcement of the laws, my heart
involuntarily bounded towards them as brethren sacredly engaged in a
common cause. Let them, said I to myself, accept the offered
settlement of the differences that remain between us, on some fair
basis like that proposed by the committee, and then, what is to
prevent us all, who yet believe that the Union must be preserved,
from joining heart and hand our common forces to effect it? When the
cry goes out that the ship is in danger of sinking, the first duty
of every man on board, no matter what his particular vocation, is to
lend all the strength he has to the work of keeping her afloat.
What! shall it be said that we waver in the view of those
who begin by trying to expunge the sacred memory of the fourth of
July? Shall we help them to obliterate the associations that cluster
around the glorious struggle for independence, or stultify the
labors of the patriots who erected this magnificent political
edifice upon the adamantine base of human liberty? Shall we
surrender the fame of Washington and Laurens, of Gadsden and the
Lees, of Jefferson and Madison, and of the myriads of heroes whose
names are imperishably connected with the memory of a united people?
Never, never!
CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS, JUNIOR
CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS, Jr. son of Charles Francis Adams, keeps up
the tradition of his family so well that, unless it is John Adams
himself, no other member of the family surpasses him as an orator.
He was born in Boston, May 27th, 1835; graduating at Harvard
and studying law in the office of R. H. Dana, Jr. His peaceful
pursuits were interrupted by the Civil War which he entered a first
lieutenant, coming out a brevet-brigadier general. He was a chief of
squadron in the Gettysburg campaign and served in Virginia
afterwards. He was for six years president of the Union Pacific
railroad and is well known both as a financier and as an author.
The address on the Battle of Gettysburg is generally given as his
masterpiece, but he has delivered a number of other orations of high
and well-sustained eloquence.
THE BATTLE OF GETTYSBURG (Delivered at Quincy, Mass., July 4th,
1869)
Six years ago this anniversary, we, and not only we who stood upon
the sacred and furrowed field of battle, but you and our whole
country, were drawing breath after the struggle of Gettysburg. For
three long days we had stood the strain of conflict, and now, at
last, when the nation's birthday dawned, the shattered rebel columns
had suddenly withdrawn from our front, and we drew that long breath
of deep relief which none have ever drawn who have not passed in
safety through the shock of doubtful battle. Nor was our country
gladdened then by news from Gettysburg alone. The army that day
twined noble laurel garlands round the proud brow of the
motherland. Vicksburg was, thereafter, to be forever associated with
the Declaration of Independence, and the glad anniversary
rejoicings, as they rose from every town and village and city of the
loyal North, mingled with the last sullen echoes that died away from
our cannon over Cemetery Ridge, and were answered by glad shouts of
victory from the far Southwest. To all of us of this generation,
--and especially to such of us as were ourselves part of those great
events,--this celebration, therefore, now has and must ever retain
a special significance. It belonged to us, as well as to our
fathers. As upon this day ninety-three years ago this nation was
brought into existence through the efforts of others, so upon this
day six years ago I am disposed to believe through our own efforts,
it dramatically touched the climax of its great argument.
The time that has since elapsed enables us now to look back and to
see things in their true proportions. We begin to realize that the
years we have so recently passed through, though we did not
appreciate it at the time, were the heroic years of American
history. Now that their passionate excitement is over, it is
pleasant to dwell upon them; to recall the rising of a great people;
the call to arms as it boomed from our hilltops and clashed from our
steeples; the eager patriotism of that fierce April which kindled
new sympathies in every bosom, which caused the miser to give freely
of his wealth, the wife with eager hands to pack the knapsack of her
husband, and mothers with eyes glistening with tears of pride, to
look out upon the shining bayonets of their boys; then came the
frenzy of impatience and the defeat entailed upon us by rashness and
inexperience, before our nation settled down, solidly and patiently,
to its work, determined to save itself from destruction; and then
followed the long weary years of doubt and mingled fear and hope,
until at last that day came six years ago which we now celebrate--
the day which saw the flood, tide of rebellion reach the high-water
mark, whence it never after ceased to recede. At the moment,
probably, none of us, either at home or at the seat of war, realized
the grandeur of the situation, the dramatic power of the incidents,
or the Titanic nature of the conflict. To you who were at home,
mothers, fathers, wives, sisters, brothers, citizens of the common
country, if nothing else, the agony of suspense, the anxiety, the
joy, and, too often, the grief which was to know no end, which
marked the passage of those days, left little either of time or
inclination to dwell upon aught save the horrid reality of the
drama. To others who more immediately participated in those great
events, the daily vexations and annoyances--the hot and dusty day
--the sleepless, anxious night--the rain upon the unsheltered
bivouac--the dead lassitude which succeeded the excitement of action
--the cruel orders which recognized no fatigue and made no
allowance for labors undergone--all these small trials of the
soldier's life made it possible to but few to realize the grandeur
of the drama to which they were playing a part. Yet we were not
wholly oblivious of it. Now and then I come across strange evidences
of this in turning over the leaves of the few weather-stained,
dogeared volumes which were the companions of my life in camp. The
title page of one bears witness to the fact that it was my companion
at Gettysburg, and in it I recently found some lines of Browning's
noble poem of 'Saul' marked and altered to express my sense of our
situation, and bearing date upon this very fifth of July. The poet
had described in them the fall of snow in the springtime from a
mountain, under which nestled a valley; the altering of a few words
made them well describe the approach of our army to Gettysburg.
"Fold on fold, all at once, we crowded thundrously down to your
feet;
And there fronts yon, stark black but alive yet, your army of old
With its rents, the successive bequeathing of conflicts untold.
Yea, each harm got in fighting your battles, each furrow and scar
Of its head thrust twixt you and the tempest--all hail, here we
are."
And there we were, indeed, and then and there was enacted such a
celebration as I hope may never again be witnessed there or
elsewhere on another fourth of July. Even as I stand here before
you, through the lapse of years and the shifting experiences of the
recent past, visions and memories of those days rise thick and fast
before me. We did, indeed, crowd thundrously down to their feet. Of
the events of those three terrible days I may speak with feeling and
yet with modesty, for small, indeed, was the part which those with
whom I served were called upon to play. When those great bodies of
infantry drove together in the crash of battle, the clouds of
cavalry which had hitherto covered up their movements were swept
aside to the flanks. Our work for the time was done, nor had it been
an easy or a pleasant work. The road to Gettysburg had been paved
with our bodies and watered with our blood. Three weeks before, in
the middle days of June, I, a captain of cavalry, had taken the
field at the head of one hundred mounted men, the joy and pride of
my life. Through twenty days of almost incessant conflict the hand
of death had been heavy upon us, and now, upon the eve of
Gettysburg, thirty-four of the hundred only remained, and our
comrades were dead on the field of battle, or languishing in
hospitals, or prisoners in the hands of the enemy. Six brave young
fellows we had buried in one grave where they fell on the heights of
Aldie. It was late on the evening of the first of July, that there
came to us rumors of heavy fighting at Gettysburg, nearly forty
miles away. The regiment happened then to be detached, and its
orders for the second were to move in the rear of Sedgwick's corps
and see that no man left the column. All that day we marched to the
sound of the cannon. Sedgwick, very grim and stern, was pressing
forward his tired men, and we soon saw that for once there would be
no stragglers from the ranks. As the day grew old and as we passed
rapidly up from the rear to the head of the hurrying column, the
roar of battle grew more distinct, until at last we crowned a hill,
and the contest broke upon us. Across the deep valley, some two
miles away, we could see the white smoke of the bursting shells,
while below the sharp incessant rattle of the musketry told of the
fierce struggle that was going on. Before us ran the straight,
white, dusty road, choked with artillery, ambulances, caissons,
ammunition trains, all pressing forward to the field of battle,
while mixed among them, their bayonets gleaming through the dust
like wavelets on a river of steel, tired, foot-sore, hungry,
thirsty, begrimed with sweat and dust, the gallant infantry of
Sedgwick's corps hurried to the sound of the cannon as men might
have flocked to a feast. Moving rapidly forward, we crossed the
brook which ran so prominently across the map of the field of
battle, and halted on its further side to await our orders. Hardly
had I dismounted from my horse when, looking back, I saw that the
head of the column had reached the brook and deployed and halted on
its other bank, and already the stream was filled with naked men
shouting with pleasure as they washed off the sweat of their long
day's march. Even as I looked, the noise of the battle grew louder,
and soon the symptoms of movement were evident. The rappel was
heard, the bathers hurriedly clad themselves, the ranks were formed,
and the sharp, quick snap of the percussion caps told us the men
were preparing their weapons for action. Almost immediately a
general officer rode rapidly to the front of the line, addressed to
it a few brief, energetic words, the short sharp order to move by
the flank was given, followed immediately by the "double-quick"; the
officer placed himself at the head of the column, and that brave
infantry which had marched almost forty miles since the setting of
yesterday's sun,--which during that day had hardly known either
sleep, or food, or rest, or shelter from the July heat,--now, as
the shadows grew long, hurried forward on the run to take its place
in the front of battle and to bear up the reeling fortunes of the
day.
It is said that at the crisis of Solferino, Marshal McMahon appeared
with his corps upon the field of battle, his men having run for
seven miles. We need not go abroad for examples of endurance and
soldierly bearing. The achievement of Sedgwick and the brave Sixth
Corps, as they marched upon the field of Gettysburg on that second
day of July, far excels the vaunted efforts of the French Zouaves.
Twenty-four hours later we stood on that same ground. Many dear
friends had yielded up their young lives during the hours which had
elapsed, but, though twenty thousand fellow-creatures were wounded
or dead around us, though the flood gates of heaven seemed opened
and the torrents fell upon the quick and the dead, yet the elements
seemed electrified with a certain magic influence of victory, and as
the great army sank down over-wearied in its tracks it felt that the
crisis and danger was passed,--that Gettysburg was immortal.
May I not, then, well express the hope that never again may we or
ours be called upon so to celebrate this anniversary? And yet now
that the passionate hopes and fears of those days are all over,--
now that the grief which can never be forgotten is softened and
modified by the soothing hand of time,--now that the distracting
doubts and untold anxieties are buried and almost forgotten,--we
love to remember the gathering of the hosts, to bear again in memory
the shock of battle, and to wonder at the magnificence of the
drama. The passion and the excitement are gone, and we can look at
the work we have done and pronounce upon it. I do not fear the sober
second judgment. Our work was a great work,--it was well done, and
it was done thoroughly. Some one has said, "Happy is the people
which has no history." Not so! As it is better to have loved and
lost than never to have loved at all, so it is better to have lived
greatly, even though we have suffered greatly, than to have passed a
long life of inglorious ease. Our generation,--yes, we ourselves
have been a part of great things. We have suffered greatly and
greatly rejoiced; we have drunk deep of the cup of joy and of
sorrow; we have tasted the agony of defeat, and we have supped full
with the pleasures of victory. We have proved ourselves equal to
great deeds, and have learnt what qualities were in us, which in
more peaceful times we ourselves did not suspect.
And, indeed, I would here in closing fain address a few words to
such of you, if any such are here, who like myself may nave been
soldiers during the War of the Rebellion. We should never more be
partisans. We have been a part of great events in the service of the
common country, we have worn her uniform, we have received her pay
and devoted ourselves to the death, if need be, in her service. When
we were blackened by the smoke of Antietam, we did not ask or care
whether those who stood shoulder to shoulder beside us, whether he
who led us, whether those who sustained us, were Democrats or
Republicans, conservatives or radicals; we asked only that they
might prove as true as was the steel we grasped, and as brave as we
ourselves would fain have been. When we stood like a wall of stone
vomiting fire from the heights of Gettysburg,--nailed to our
position through three long days of mortal Hell,--did we ask each
other whether that brave officer who fell while gallantly leading
the counter-charge--whether that cool gunner steadily serving his
piece before us amid the storm of shot and shell--whether the poor
wounded, mangled, gasping comrades, crushed and torn, and dying in
agony around us--had voted for Lincoln or Douglas, for Breckenridge
or Bell? We then were full of other thoughts. We prized men for what
they were worth to the common country of us all, and recked not of
empty words. Was the man true, was he brave, was he earnest, was all
we thought of then;--not, did he vote or think with us, or label
himself with our party name? This lesson let us try to remember. We
cannot give to party all that we once offered to country, but our duty
is not yet done. We are no longer, what we have been, the young guard
of the Republic; we have earned an exemption from the dangers of the
field and camp, and the old musket or the crossed sabres hang harmless
over our winter fires, never more to be grasped in these hands
henceforth devoted to more peaceful labors; but the duties of the
citizen, and of the citizen who has received his baptism in fire, are
still incumbent upon us. Though young in years, we should remember
that henceforth, and as long as we live in the land, we are the
ancients,--the veterans of the Republic. As such, it is for us to
protect in peace what we preserved in war; it is for us to look at all
things with a view to the common country and not to the exigencies of
party politics; it is for us ever to bear in mind the higher
allegiance we have sworn, and to remember that he who has once been a
soldier of the motherland degrades himself forever when he becomes the
slave of faction. Then at last, if through life we ever bear these
lessons freshly in mind will it be well for us, will it be well for
our country, will it be well for those whose names we bear, that our
bones also do not molder with those of our brave comrades beneath the
sods of Gettysburg, or that our graves do not look down on the
swift-flowing Mississippi from the historic heights of Vicksburg?
JOHN ADAMS (1735-1826)
John Adams, second President of the United States, was not a man of
the strong emotional temperament which so often characterizes the
great orator. He was fitted by nature for a student and scholar
rather than to lead men by the direct appeal the orator makes to
their emotions, their passions, or their judgment His inclinations
were towards the Church; but after graduating from Harvard College,
which he entered at the age of sixteen, he had a brief experience as
a school-teacher and found it so distasteful to him that he adopted
the law as a relief, without waiting to consult his inclinations
further. "Necessity drove me to this determination," he writes, "but
my inclination was to preach." He began the practice of law in his
native village of Braintree, Massachusetts, and took no prominent
part in public affairs until 1765, when he appeared as counsel for
the town of Boston in proceedings growing out of the Stamp Act
difficulties.
From this time on, his name is constantly associated with the great
events of the Revolution. That be never allowed his prejudices as a
patriot to blind him to his duties as a lawyer, he showed by
appearing as counsel for the British soldiers who killed Crispus
Attucks, Samuel Gray, and others, in the Boston riot of 1770. He was
associated in this case with Josiah Quincy, and the two
distinguished patriots conducted the case with such ability that the
soldiers were acquitted--as no doubt they should have been.
Elected a member of the Continental Congress, Mr. Adams did work in
it which identified him in an enduring way with the formative period
of republican institutions in America. This must be remembered in
passing upon his acts when as President, succeeding Washington, he
is brought into strong contrast with the extreme republicans of the
French school. In the Continental Congress, contrasted with English
royalists and conservatives Mr. Adams himself appeared an extremist,
as later on, under the same law of contrast, he appeared
conservative when those who were sometimes denounced as "Jacobins"
and "Levellers" were fond of denouncing him as a disguised royalist.
Prior to his administration as President, he had served as
commissioner to the court of France, "Minister Plenipotentiary for
the Purpose of Negotiating a Treaty of Peace and Commerce with Great
Britain"; commissioner to conclude a treaty with the States-General
of Holland; minister to England after the conclusion of peace, and
finally as Vice-President under Washington. His services in every
capacity in which he was engaged for his country showed his great
ability and zeal: but in the struggle over the Alien and Sedition
Laws his opponents gave him no quarter and when he retired from the
Presidency it was with the feeling, shared to some extent by his
great opponent Jefferson, that republics never have a proper regard
for the services and sacrifices of statesmen, though they are only
too ready to reward military heroes beyond their deserts. The author
of 'Familiar Letters on Public Affairs' writes of Mr. Adams:--
"He was a man of strong mind, great learning, and eminent ability to
use knowledge both in speech and writing. He was ever a firm
believer in Christianity, not from habit and example but from a
diligent investigation of its proofs. He had an uncompromising
regard for his own opinion and was strongly contrasted with
Washington in this respect. He seemed to have supposed that his
opinions could not have been corrected by those of other men or
bettered by any comparison."
It might be inferred from this that Mr. Adams was as obstinate in
prejudice as in opinion, but as he had demonstrated to the contrary
in taking the unpopular cause of the British soldiers at the
beginning of his public career, he showed it still more strikingly
by renewing and continuing until his death a friendship with
Jefferson which had been interrupted by the fierce struggle over the
Alien and Sedition Act.
INAUGURAL ADDRESS (March 4th. 1797)
When it was first perceived, in early times, that no middle course
for America remained, between unlimited submission to a foreign
legislature and a total independence of its claims, men of
reflection were less apprehensive of danger from the formidable
powers of fleets and armies they must determine to resist, than from
those contests and dissensions which would certainly arise
concerning the forms of government to be instituted over the whole
and over the parts of this extensive country. Relying, however, on
the purity of their attentions, the justice of their cause, and the
integrity and intelgence of the people, under an over-ruling
Providence, which had so signally protected this country from the
first, the representatives of this nation, then consisting of little
more than half its present numbers, not only broke to pieces the
chains which were forging, and the rod of iron that was lifted up,
but frankly cut asunder the ties which had bound them, and launched
into an ocean of uncertainty.
The zeal and ardor of the people during the Revolutionary War,
supplying the place of government, commanded a degree of order,
sufficient, at least, for the temporary preservation of society. The
confederation, which was early felt to be necessary, was prepared
from the models of the Bavarian and Helvetic confederacies, the only
examples which remain, with any detail and precision, in history,
and certainly the only ones which the people at large had ever
considered. But, reflecting on the striking difference, in so many
particulars, between this country and those where a courier may go
from the seat of government to the frontier in a single day, it was
then certainly foreseen by some who assisted in Congress at the
formation of it, that it could not be durable.
Negligence of its regulations, inattention to its recommendations,
if not disobedience to its authority, not only in individuals but in
States, soon appeared with their melancholy consequences--
universal languor, jealousies, rivalries of States, decline of
navigation and commerce, discouragement of necessary manufactures,
universal fall in the value of lands and their produce, contempt of
public and private faith, loss of consideration and credit with
foreign nations; and, at length, in discontents, animosities,
combinations, partial conventions, and insurrection, threatening
some great national calamity.
In this dangerous crisis, the people of America were not abandoned
by their usual good sense, presence of mind, resolution, or
integrity. Measures were pursued to concert a plan to form a more
perfect union, establish justice, ensure domestic tranquillity,
provide for the common defense, promote the general welfare, and
secure the blessings of liberty. The public disquisitions,
discussions, and deliberations issued in the present happy
constitution of government.
Employed in the service of my country abroad during the whole course
of these transactions, I first saw the Constitution of the United
States in a foreign country. Irritated by no literary altercation,
animated by no public debate, heated by no party animosity, I read
it with great satisfaction, as the result of good heads, prompted by
good hearts; as an experiment better adapted to the genius,
character, situation, and relations of this nation and country than
any which had ever been proposed or suggested. In its general
principles and great outlines, it was conformable to such a system
of government as I had ever most esteemed, and in some States, my
own native State in particular, had contributed to establish.
Claiming a right of suffrage common with my fellow-citizens in the
adoption or rejection of a constitution, which was to rule me and my
posterity, as well as them and theirs, I did not hesitate to express
my approbation of it on all occasions, in public and in private. It
was not then, nor has been since, any objection to it, in my mind,
that the Executive and Senate were not more permanent. Nor have I
entertained a thought of promoting any alteration in it, but such as
the people themselves, in the course of their experience, should see
and feel to be necessary or expedient, and by their representatives
in Congress and the State legislature, according to the constitution
itself, adopt and ordain.
Returning to the bosom of my country, after a painful separation
from it for ten years, I had the honor to be elected to a station
under the new order of things; and I have repeatedly laid myself
under the most serious obligations to support the constitution. The
operation of it has equaled the most sanguine expectations of its
friends; and from an habitual attention to it, satisfaction in its
administration, and delight in its effects upon the peace, order,
prosperity, and happiness of the nation, I have acquired an habitual
attachment to it, and veneration for it.
What other form of government, indeed, can so well deserve our
esteem and love?
There may be little solidity in an ancient idea that congregations
of men into cities and nations are the most pleasing objects in the
sight of superior intelligences; but this is very certain, that to a
benevolent human mind there can be no spectacle presented by any
nation more pleasing, more noble, majestic, or august, than an
assembly like that which has so often been seen in this and the
other chamber of Congress--of a government in which the executive
authority, as well as that of all the branches of the legislature,
are exercised by citizens selected at regular periods by their
neighbors, to make and execute laws for the general good. Can any
thing essential, any thing more, than mere ornament and decoration
be added to this by robes or diamonds? Can authority be more
amiable or respectable when it descends from accident or
institutions established in remote antiquity than when it springs
fresh from the hearts and judgments of an honest and enlightened
people? For it is the people that are represented; it is their power
and majesty that is reflected, and only for their good, in every
legitimate government, under whatever form it may appear. The
existence of such a government as ours for any length of time is a
full proof of a general dissemination of knowledge and virtue
throughout the whole body of the people. And what object of
consideration more pleasing than this can be presented to the human
mind? If natural pride is ever justifiable or excusable, it is when
it springs, not from power or riches, grandeur or glory, but from
conviction of national innocence, information, and benevolence.
In the midst of these pleasing ideas, we should be unfaithful to
ourselves if we should ever lose sight of the danger to our
liberties--if anything partial or extraneous should infect the
purity of our free, fair, virtuous, and independent elections. If an
election is to be determined by a majority of a single vote, and
that can be procured by a party through artifice or corruption, the
government may be the choice of a party, for its own ends, not of
the nation for the national good. If that solitary suffrage can be
obtained by foreign nations by flattery or menaces, by fraud or
violence, by terror, intrigue, or venality, the government may not
be the choice of the American people, but of foreign nations. It may
be foreign nations who govern us, and not we, the people, who govern
ourselves; and candid men will acknowledge that, in such cases,
choice would have little advantage to boast of over lot or chance.
Such is the amiable and interesting system of government (and such
are some of the abuses to which it may be exposed) which the people
of America have exhibited to the admiration and anxiety of the wise
and virtuous of all nations for eight years, under the administration
of a citizen, who, by a long course of great actions, regulated by
prudence, justice, temperance, and fortitude, conducting a people
inspired with the same virtues, and animated with the same ardent
patriotism and love of liberty, to independence and peace, to
increasing wealth and unexampled prosperity, has merited the
gratitude of his fellow-citizens, commanded the highest praises of
foreign nations, and secured immortal glory with posterity.
In that retirement, which is his voluntary choice, may he long live
to enjoy the delicious recollection of his services--the gratitude
of mankind; the happy fruits of them to himself and the world, which
are daily increasing, and that splendid prospect of the future
fortunes of his country, which is opening from year to year. His
name may be still a rampart and the knowledge that he lives a
bulwark against all open or secret enemies of his country's peace.
This example has been recommended to the imitation of his
successors, by both houses of Congress, and by the voice of the
legislatures and the people, throughout the nation.
On this subject it might become me better to be silent, or to speak
with diffidence; but as something may be expected, the occasion, I
hope, will be admitted as an apology, if I venture to say, that if a
preference upon principle, of a free republican government, formed
upon long and serious reflection, after a diligent and impartial
inquiry after truth; if an attachment to the Constitution of the
United States, and a conscientious determination to support it,
until it shall be altered by the judgments and wishes of the people,
expressed in the mode prescribed in it; if a respectful attention to
the constitution of the individual States, and a constant caution
and delicacy towards the State governments; if an equal and
impartial regard to the rights, interests, honor, and happiness of
all the States in the Union, without preference or regard to a
northern or southern, eastern or western position, their various
political opinions on essential points, or their personal
attachments; if a love of virtuous men, of all parties and
denominations; if a love of science or letters and a wish to
patronize every rational effort to encourage schools, colleges,
universities, academies, and every institution of propagating
knowledge, virtue, and religion among all classes of people, not
only for their benign influence on the happiness of life, in all its
stages and classes, and of society in all its forms, but as the only
means of preserving our constitution from its natural enemies, the
spirit of sophistry, the spirit of party, the spirit of intrigue,
profligacy, and corruption, and the pestilence of foreign influence,
which is the angel of destruction to elective governments, if a love
of equal laws, of justice and humanity, in the interior administration;
if an inclination to improve agriculture, commerce, and manufactures
for necessity, convenience, and defense; if a spirit of equity and
humanity towards the aboriginal nations of America, and a
disposition to ameliorate their condition by inclining them to be
more friendly to us, and our citizens to be more friendly to them;
if an inflexible determination to maintain peace and inviolable
faith with all nations, and the system of neutrality and
impartiality among the belligerent powers of Europe which has been
adopted by the government, and so solemnly sanctioned by both houses
of Congress, and applauded by the legislatures of the States and by
public opinion, until it shall be otherwise ordained by Congress; if
a personal esteem for the French nation, formed in a residence of
seven years chiefly among them, and a sincere desire to preserve the
friendship, which has been so much for the honor and interest of
both nations; if, while the conscious honor and integrity of the
people of America and the internal sentiment of their own power and
energies must be preserved, an earnest endeavor to investigate every
just cause, and remove every colorable pretense of complaint; if an
intention to pursue, by amicable negotiation, a reparation for the
injuries that have been committed on the commerce of our
fellow-citizens, by whatever nation; and, if success cannot be
obtained, to lay the facts before the legislature, that they may
consider what further measures the honor and interest of the
government and its constituents demand; if a resolution to do
justice, as far as may depend upon me, at all times and to all
nations, and maintain peace, friendship, and benevolence with all
the world; if an unshaken confidence in the honor, spirit, and
resources of the American people, on which I have so often hazarded
my all, and never been deceived; if elevated ideas of the high
destinies of this country, and of my own duties towards it, founded
on a knowledge of the moral principles and intellectual improvements
of the people, deeply engraven on my mind in early life, and not
obscured, but exalted, by experience and age; and with humble
reverence, I feel it my duty to add, if a veneration for the
religion of the people who profess and call themselves Christians,
and a fixed resolution to consider a decent respect for Christianity
among the best recommendations for the public service, can enable
me, in any degree, to comply with your wishes, it shall be my
strenuous endeavor that this sagacious injunction of the two houses
shall not be without effect.
With this great example before me--with the sense and spirit, the
faith and honor, the duty and interest of the same American people,
pledged to support the Constitution of the United States, I
entertain no doubt of its continuance in all its energy; and my mind
is prepared, without hesitation, to lay myself under the most solemn
obligations to support it to the utmost of my power.
And may that Being who is supreme over all, the patron of order, the
fountain of justice, and the protector, in all ages of the world, of
virtuous liberty, continue his blessing upon this nation and its
government, and give it all possible success and duration,
consistent with the ends of his providence!
THE BOSTON MASSACRE
(First Day's Speech in Defense of the British Soldiers Accused of
Murdering Attucks, Gray and Others, in the Boston Riot of 1770)
_May_ _If_ _Please_ _Your_ _Honor_,_ and_ _You_,_ Gentlemen_ _of_
_the_ _Jury_:--
I am for the prisoners at the bar, and shall apologize for it only in
the words of the Marquis Beccaria:--
"If I can but be the instrument of preserving one life, his
blessings and tears of transport shall be a sufficient consolation
for me for the contempt of all mankind."
As the prisoners stand before you for their lives, it may be proper
to recollect with what temper the law requires we should proceed to
this trial. The form of proceeding at their arraignment has
discovered that the spirit of the law upon such occasions is
conformable to humanity, to common sense and feeling; that it is all
benignity and candor. And the trial commences with the prayer of the
court, expressed by the clerk, to the Supreme Judge of judges,
empires, and worlds, "God send you a good deliverance."
We find in the rules laid down by the greatest English judges, who
have been the brightest of mankind: We are to look upon it as more
beneficial that many guilty persons should escape unpunished than
one innocent should suffer. The reason is, because it is of more
importance to the community that innocence should be protected than
it is that guilt should be punished; for guilt and crimes are so
frequent in the world that all of them cannot be punished; and many
times they happen in such a manner that it is not of much
consequence to the public whether they are punished or not. But when
innocence itself is brought to the bar and condemned, especially to
die, the subject will exclaim, "It is immaterial to me whether I
behave well or ill, for virtue itself is no security." And if such a
sentiment as this should take place in the mind of the subject,
there would be an end to all security whatsoever, I will read the
words of the law itself.
The rules I shall produce to you from Lord Chief-Justice Hale, whose
character as a lawyer, a man of learning and philosophy, and a
Christian, will be disputed by nobody living; one of the greatest
and best characters the English nation ever produced. His words are
these:--
(2 H. H. P. C.): _Tutius_ _semper_ _est_ _errare_, _in_
_acquietando_ _quam_ _in_ _puniendo_, _ex_ _parte_ _misericordiae_
_quam_ _ex_ _parte_ _justitiae_.--"It is always safer to err in
acquitting than punishing, on the part of mercy than the part of
justice."
The next is from the same authority, 305:--
_Tutius_ _erratur_ _ex_ _parte_ _mitiori_,--"It is always safer to
err on the milder side, the side of mercy."
(H. H. P. C. 509): "The best rule in doubtful cases is rather to
incline to acquittal than conviction."
And on page 300:--
_Quod_ _dubitas_, _ne_ _feceris_.--"Where you are doubtful, never act;
that is, if you doubt of the prisoner's guilt, never declare him
guilty."
This is always the rule, especially in cases of life. Another rule
from the same author, 289, where he says:--
"In some cases presumptive evidences go far to prove a person
guilty, though there is no express proof of the fact to be committed
by him; but then it must be very warily expressed, for it is better
five guilty persons should escape unpunished than one innocent
person should die."
The next authority shall be from another judge of equal character,
considering the age wherein he lived; that is, Chancellor Fortescue
in 'Praise of the Laws of England,' page 59. This is a very
ancient writer on the English law. His words are:--
"Indeed, one would rather, much rather, that twenty guilty persons
escape punishment of death, than one innocent person be condemned
and suffer capitally."
Lord Chief-Justice Hale says:--
"It is better five guilty persons escape, than one innocent person
suffer."
Lord Chancellor Fortescue, you see, carries the matter further, and
says:--
"Indeed, one had rather, much rather, that twenty guilty persons
should escape than one innocent person suffer capitally."
Indeed, this rule is not peculiar to the English law; there never
was a system of laws in the world in which this rule did not
prevail. It prevailed in the ancient Roman law, and, which is more
remarkable, it prevails in the modern Roman law. Even the judges in
the Courts of Inquisition, who with racks, burnings, and scourges
examine criminals,--even there they preserve it as a maxim, that
it is better the guilty should escape punishment than the innocent
suffer. _Satius_ _esse_ _nocentem_ _absolvi_ _quam_ _innocentem_
_damnari_. This is the temper we ought to set out with, and these
the rules we are to be governed by. And I shall take it for granted,
as a first principle, that the eight prisoners at the bar had better
be all acquitted, though we should admit them all to be guilty, than
that any one of them should, by your verdict, be found guilty, being
innocent.
I shall now consider the several divisions of law under which the
evidence will arrange itself.
The action now before you is homicide; that is, the killing of one
man by another. The law calls it homicide; but it is not criminal in
all cases for one man to slay another. Had the prisoners been on the
Plains of Abraham and slain a hundred Frenchmen apiece, the English
law would have considered it as a commendable action, virtuous and
praiseworthy; so that every instance of killing a man is not a crime
in the eye of the law. There are many other instances which I cannot
enumerate--an officer that executes a person under sentence of
death, etc. So that, gentlemen, every instance of one man's killing
another is not a crime, much less a crime to be punished with death.
But to descend to more particulars.
The law divides homicide into three branches; the first is
"justifiable," the second "excusable," and the third "felonious."
Felonious homicide is subdivided into two branches; the first is
murder, which is killing with malice aforethought; the second is
manslaughter, which is killing a man on a sudden provocation. Here,
gentlemen, are four sorts of homicide; and you are to consider
whether all the evidence amounts to the first, second, third or
fourth of these heads. The fact was the slaying five unhappy persons
that night. You are to consider whether it was justifiable,
excusable, or felonious; and if felonious, whether it was murder or
manslaughter. One of these four it must be. You need not divide your
attention to any more particulars. I shall, however, before I come
to the evidence, show you several authorities which will assist you
and me in contemplating the evidence before us.
I shall begin with justifiable homicide. If an officer, a sheriff,
execute a man on the gallows, draw and quarter him, as in case of
high treason, and cut off his head, this is justifiable homicide. It
is his duty. So also, gentlemen, the law has planted fences and
barriers around every individual; it is a castle round every man's
person, as well as his house. As the love of God and our neighbor
comprehends the whole duty of man, so self-love and social
comprehend all the duties we owe to mankind; and the first branch is
self-love, which is not only our indisputable right, but our
clearest duty. By the laws of nature, this is interwoven in the
heart of every individual. God Almighty, whose law we cannot alter,
has implanted it there, and we can annihilate ourselves as easily as
root out this affection for ourselves. It is the first and strongest
principle in our nature. Justice Blackstone calls it "The primary
canon in the law of nature." That precept of our holy religion which
commands us to love our neighbor as ourselves does not command us to
love our neighbor better than ourselves, or so well. No Christian
divine has given this interpretation. The precept enjoins that our
benevolence to our fellow-men should be as real and sincere as our
affection to ourselves, not that it should be as great in degree. A
man is authorized, therefore, by common sense and the laws of
England, as well as those of nature, to love himself better than his
fellow-subject. If two persons are cast away at sea, and get on a
plank (a case put by Sir Francis Bacon), and the plank is
insufficient to hold them both, the one has a right to push the
other off to save himself. The rules of the common law, therefore
which authorize a man to preserve his own life at the expense of
another's, are not contradicted by any divine or moral law. We talk
of liberty and property, but if we cut up the law of self-defense,
we cut up the foundations of both; and if we give up this, the rest
is of very little value, and therefore this principle must be
strictly attended to; for whatsoever the law pronounces in the case
of these eight soldiers will be the law to other persons and after
ages. All the persons that have slain mankind in this country from
the beginning to this day had better have been acquitted than that a
wrong rule and precedent should be established.
I shall now read to you a few authorities on this subject of
self-defense. Foster, 273 (in the case of justifiable self-defense):
"The injured party may repel force with force in defense of person,
habitation, or property, against one who manifestly intendeth and
endeavoreth with violence or surprise to commit a known felony upon
either. In these cases he is not obliged to retreat, but pursue his
adversary till he finds himself out of danger; and a conflict
between them he happeneth to kill, such killing is fiable."
I must entreat you to consider the words of this authority. The
injured person may repel force by force against any who endeavoreth
to commit any kind of felony on him or his. Here the rule is, I have
a right to stand on my own defense, if you intend to commit
felony. If any of the persons made an attack on these soldiers, with
an intention to rob them, if it was but to take their hats
feloniously, they had a right to kill them on the spot, and had no
business to retreat. If a robber meet me in the street and command
me to surrender my purse, I have a right to kill him without asking
any questions. If a person commit a bare assault on me, this will
not justify killing; but if he assault me in such a manner as to
discover an intention to kill me, I have a right to destroy him,
that I may put it out of his power to kill me. In the case you will
have to consider, I do not know there was any attempt to steal from
these persons; however, there were some persons concerned who would,
probably enough, have stolen, if there had been anything to
steal, and many were there who had no such disposition. But this is
not the point we aim at. The question is, Are you satisfied the
people made the attack in order to kill the soldiers? If you are
satisfied that the people, whoever they were, made that assault with
a design to kill or maim the soldiers, this was such an assault as
will justify the soldiers killing in their own defense. Further, it
seems to me, we may make another question, whether you are satisfied
that their real intention was to kill or maim, or not? If any
reasonable man in the situation of one of these soldiers would have
had reason to believe in the time of it, that the people came with
an intention to kill him, whether you have this satisfaction now or
not in your own minds, they were justifiable, at least excusable, in
firing. You and I may be suspicious that the people who made this
assault on the soldiers did it to put them to flight, on purpose
that they might go exulting about the town afterwards in triumph;
but this will not do. You must place yourselves in the situation of
Weems and Killroy--consider yourselves as knowing that the prejudice
of the world about you thought you came to dragoon them into
obedience, to statutes, instructions, mandates, and edicts, which
they thoroughly detested--that many of these people were
thoughtless and inconsiderate, old and young, sailors and landsmen,
negroes and mulattoes--that they, the soldiers, had no friends
about them, the rest were in opposition to them; with all the bells
ringing to call the town together to assist the people in King
Street, for they knew by that time that there was no fire; the
people shouting, huzzaing, and making the mob whistle, as they call
it, which, when a boy makes it in the street is no formidable thing,
but when made by a multitude is a most hideous shriek, almost as
terrible as an Indian yell; the people crying, "Kill them, kill
them. Knock them over," heaving snowballs, oyster shells, clubs,
white-birch sticks three inches and a half in diameter; consider
yourselves in this situation, and then judge whether a reasonable
man in the soldiers' situation would not have concluded they were
going to kill him. I believe if I were to reverse the scene, I
should bring it home to our own bosoms. Suppose Colonel Marshall
when he came out of his own door and saw these grenadiers coming
down with swords, etc., had thought it proper to have appointed a
military watch; suppose he had assembled Gray and Attucks that were
killed, or any other person in town, and appointed them in that
situation as a military watch, and there had come from Murray's
barracks thirty or forty soldiers with no other arms than snowballs,
cakes of ice, oyster shells, cinders, and clubs, and attacked this
military watch in this manner, what do you suppose would have been
the feelings and reasonings of any of our householders? I confess, I
believe they would not have borne one-half of what the witnesses
have sworn the soldiers bore, till they had shot down as many as
were necessary to intimidate and disperse the rest; because the law
does not oblige us to bear insults to the danger of our lives, to
stand still with such a number of people around us, throwing such
things at us, and threatening our lives, until we are disabled to
defend ourselves.
(Foster, 274): "Where a known felony is attempted upon the person,
be it to rob or murder, here the party assaulted may repel force
with force, and even his own servant, then attendant on him, or any
other person present, may interpose for preventing mischief, and if
death ensue, the party so interposing will be justified. In this
case nature and social duty co-operate."
Hawkins, P. C., Chapter 28, Section 25, towards the end:--"Yet it
seems that a private person, _a_ _fortiori_, an officer of justice, who
happens unavoidably to kill another in endeavoring to defend himself
from or suppress dangerous rioters, may justify the fact in as much
as he only does his duty in aid of the public justice."
Section 24:--"And I can see no reason why a person, who, without
provocation, is assaulted by another, in any place whatsoever, in
such a manner as plainly shows an intent to murder him, as by
discharging a pistol, or pushing at him with a drawn sword, etc.,
may not justify killing such an assailant, as much as if he had
attempted to rob him. For is not he who attempts to murder me more
injurious than he who barely attempts to rob me? And can it be more
justifiable to fight for my goods than for my life?"
And it is not only highly agreeable to reason that a man in such
circumstances may lawfully kill another, but it seems also to be
confirmed by the general tenor of our books, which, speaking of
homicide _se_ _defendo_, suppose it done in some quarrel or affray.
(Hawkins, p. 71. section 14); "And so, perhaps, the killing of dangerous
rioters may be justified by any private persons, who cannot
otherwise suppress them or defend themselves from them, inasmuch as
every private person seems to be authorized by the law to arm
himself for the purposes aforesaid."
Here every private person is authorized to arm himself; and on the
strength of this authority I do not deny the inhabitants had a right
to arm themselves at that time for their defense, not for
offense. That distinction is material, and must be attended to.
(Hawkins, p. 75, section 14): "And not only he who on an assault retreats
to the wall, or some such strait, beyond which he can go no further
before he kills the other, is judged by the law to act upon
unavoidable necessity; but also he who being assaulted in such a
manner and in such a place that he cannot go back without manifestly
endangering his life, kills the other without retreating at all."
(Section 16); "And an officer who kills one that insults him in the
execution of his office, and where a private person that kills one
who feloniously assaults him in the highway, may justify the fact
without ever giving back at all."
There is no occasion for the magistrate to read the riot act. In the
case before you, I suppose you will be satisfied when you come to
examine the witnesses and compare it with the rules of the common
law, abstracted from all mutiny acts and articles of war, that these
soldiers were in such a situation that they could not help
themselves. People were coming from Royal Exchange Lane, and other
parts of the town, with clubs and cord-wood sticks; the soldiers
were planted by the wail of the Customhouse; they could not retreat;
they were surrounded on all sides, for there were people behind them
as well as before them; there were a number of people in the Royal
Exchange Lane; the soldiers were so near to the Customhouse that
they could not retreat, unless they had gone into the brick wall of
it. I shall show you presently that all the party concerned in this
unlawful design were guilty of what any one of them did; if anybody
threw a snowball it was the act of the whole party; if any struck
with a club or threw a club, and the club had killed anybody, the
whole party would have been guilty of murder in the law. Lord
Chief-Justice Holt, in Mawgrige's case (Keyling, 128), says:--
"Now, it has been held, that if A of his malice prepense assaults B
to kill him, and B draws his sword and attacks A and pursues him,
then A, for his safety, gives back and retreats to a wall, and B
still pursuing him with his drawn sword, A in his defense kills B;
this is murder in A. For A having malice against B, and in pursuance
thereof endeavoring to kill him, is answerable for all the
consequences of which he was the original cause. It is not
reasonable for any man that is dangerously assaulted, and when he
perceives his life in danger from his adversary, but to have liberty
for the security of his own life, to pursue him that maliciously
assaulted him; for he that has manifested that he has malice against
another is not at to be trusted with a dangerous weapon in his
hand. And so resolved by all the judges when they met at Seargeant's
Inn, in preparation for my Lord Morley's trial."
In the case here we will take Montgomery, if you please, when he was
attacked by the stout man with a stick, who aimed it at his head,
with a number of people round him crying out, "Kill them, kill
them." Had he not a right to kill the man? If all the party were
guilty of the assault made by the stout man, and all of them had
discovered malice in their hearts, had not Montgomery a right,
according to Lord Chief-Justice Holt, to put it out of their power
to wreak their malice upon him? I will not at present look for any
more authorities in the point of self-defense; you will be able to
judge from these how far the law goes in justifying or excusing any
person in defense of himself, or taking away the life of another who
threatens him in life or limb. The next point is this: that in case
of an unlawful assembly, all and every one of the assembly is guilty
of all and every unlawful act committed by any one of that assembly
in prosecution of the unlawful design set out upon.
Rules of law should be universally known, whatever effect they may
have on politics; they are rules of common law, the law of the land;
and it is certainly true, that wherever there is an unlawful
assembly, let it consist of many persons or of a few, every man in
it is guilty of every unlawful act committed by any one of the whole
party, be they more or be they less, in pursuance of their unlawful
design. This is the policy of the law; to discourage and prevent
riots, insurrections, turbulence, and tumults.
In the continual vicissitudes of human things, amidst the shocks of
fortune and the whirls of passion that take place at certain
critical seasons, even in the mildest government, the people are
liable to run into riots and tumults. There are Church-quakes and
State-quakes in the moral and political world, as well as
earthquakes, storms, and tempests in the physical. Thus much,
however, must be said in favor of the people and of human nature,
that it is a general, if not a universal truth, that the aptitude of
the people to mutinies, seditions, tumults, and insurrections, is in
direct proportion to the despotism of the government. In
governments completely despotic,--that is, where the will of one
man is the only law, this disposition is most prevalent. In
aristocracies next; in mixed monarchies, less than either of the
former; in complete republics the least of all, and under the same
form of governments as in a limited monarchy, for example, the
virtue and wisdom of the administrations may generally be measured
by the peace and order that are seen among the people. However this
may be, such is the imperfection of all things in this world, that
no form of government, and perhaps no virtue or wisdom in the
administration, can at all times avoid riots and disorders among the
people.
Now, it is from this difficulty that the policy of the law has
framed such strong discouragements to secure the people against
tumults; because, when they once begin, there is danger of their
running to such excesses as will overturn the whole system of
government. There is the rule from the reverend sage of the law, so
often quoted before:--
(1 H. H. P. C. 437): "All present, aiding and assisting, are equally
principal with him that gave the stroke whereof the party died. For
though one gave the stroke, yet in interpretation of law it is the
stroke of every person that was present, aiding and assisting."
(1 H. H. P. C. 440): "If divers come with one assent to do mischief,
as to kill, to rob or beat, and one doeth it, they are all
principals in the felony. If many be present and one only give the
stroke whereof the party dies, they are all principal, if they came
for that purpose."
Now, if the party at Dock Square came with an intention only to beat
the soldiers, and began to affray with them, and any of them had
been accidentally killed, it would have been murder, because it was
an unlawful design they came upon. If but one does it they are all
considered in the eye of the law guilty; if any one gives the mortal
stroke, they are all principals here, therefore there is a reversal
of the scene. If you are satisfied that these soldiers were there
on a lawful design, and it should be proved any of them shot without
provocation, and killed anybody, he only is answerable for it.
(First Kale's Pleas of the Crown, 1 H. H. P. C. 444): "Although if
many come upon an unlawful design, and one of the company till one
of the adverse party in pursuance of that design, all are
principals; yet if many be together upon a lawful account, and one
of the company kill another of the adverse party, without any
particular abetment of the rest to this fact of homicide, they are
not all guilty that are of the company, but only those that gave the
stroke or actually abetted him to do it."
(1 H. H. P. C. 445): "In case of a riotous assembly to rob or steal
deer, or to do any unlawful act of violence, there the offense of
one is the offense of all the company."
(In another place, 1 H. H. P. C. 439): "The Lord Dacre and divers
others went to steal deer in the park of one Pellham. Raydon, one
of the company, killed the keeper in the park, the Lord Dacre and
the rest of the company being in the other part of the park. Yet it
was adjudged murder in them all, and they died for it." (And he
quotes Crompton 25, Dalton 93. p. 241.) "So that in so strong a
case as this, where this nobleman set out to hunt deer in the ground
of another, he was in one part of the park and his company in
another part, yet they were all guilty of murder."
The next is:--
(Kale's Pleas of the Crown, 1 H. H. P. C. 440): "The case of
Drayton Bassit; divers persons doing an unlawful act, all are
guilty of what is done by one."
(Foster 353, 354): "A general resolution against all opposers,
whether such resolution appears upon evidence to have been actually
and implicitly entered into by the confederates, or may reasonably
be collected from their number, arms or behavior, at or before the
scene of action, such resolutions so proved have always been
considered as strong ingredients in cases of this kind. And in cases
of homicide committed in consequence of them, every person present,
in the sense of the law, when the homicide has been involved in the
guilt of him that gave the mortal blow."
(Foster): "The cases of Lord Dacre, mentioned by Hale, and of
Pudsey, reported by Crompton and cited by Hale, turned upon this
point. The offenses they respectively stood charged with, as
principals, were committed far out of their sight and hearing, and
yet both were held to be present. It was sufficient that at the
instant the facts were committed, they were of the same party and
upon the same pursuit, and under the same engagements and
expectations of mutual defense and support with those that did the
facts."
Thus far I have proceeded, and I believe it will not be hereafter
disputed by anybody, that this law ought to be known to every one
who has any disposition to be concerned in an unlawful assembly,
whatever mischief happens in the prosecution of the design they set
out upon, all are answerable for it. It is necessary we should
consider the definitions of some other crimes as well as murder;
sometimes one crime gives occasion to another. An assault is
sometimes the occasion of manslaughter, sometimes of excusable
homicide. It is necessary to consider what is a riot, (1 Hawkins,
ch. 65, section 2): I shall give you the definition of it:--
"Wheresoever more than three persons use force or violence, for the
accomplishment of any design whatever, all concerned are rioters."
Were there not more than three persons in Dock Square? Did they not
agree to go to King Street, and attack the main guard? Where, then,
is the reason for hesitation at calling it a riot? If we cannot
speak the law as it is, where is our liberty? And this is law, that
wherever more than three persons are gathered together to accomplish
anything with force, it is a riot.
(1 Hawkins, ch. 65, section 2): "Wherever more than three persons use
force and violence, all who are concerned therein are rioters. But
in some cases wherein the law authorizes force, it is lawful and
commendable to use it. As for a sheriff [2 And. 67 Poph. 121], or
constable [3 H. 7, 10, 6], or perhaps even for a private person
[Poph. 121, Moore 656], to assemble a competent number of people, in
order with force to oppose rebels or enemies or rioters, and
afterwards, with such force actually to suppress them."
I do not mean to apply the word rebel on this occasion; I have no
reason to suppose that ever there was one in Boston, at least among
the natives of the country; but rioters are in the same situation,
as far as my argument is concerned, and proper officers may suppress
rioters, and so may even private persons.
If we strip ourselves free from all military laws, mutiny acts,
articles of war and soldiers' oaths, and consider these prisoners as
neighbors, if any of their neighbors were attacked in King Street,
they had a right to collect together to suppress this riot and
combination. If any number of persons meet together at a fair or
market, and happen to fall together by the ears, they are not guilty
of a riot, but of a sudden affray. Here is another paragraph, which
I must read to you:--
(1 Hawkins, ch. 65, section 3): "If a number of persons being met together
at a fair or market, or on any other lawful or innocent occasion,
happen, on a sudden quarrel, to fall together by the ears, they are
not guilty of a riot, but of a sudden affray only, of which none are
guilty but those who actually began it," etc.
It would be endless, as well as superfluous, to examine whether
every particular person engaged in a riot were in truth one of the
first assembly or actually had a previous knowledge of the design
thereof. I have endeavored to produce the best authorities, and to
give you the rules of law in their words, for I desire not to
advance anything of my own. I choose to lay down the rules of law
from authorities which cannot be disputed. Another point is this,
whether and how far a private person may aid another in distress?
Suppose a press-gang should come on shore in this town and assault
any sailor or householder in King Street, in order to carry him on
board one of his Majesty's ships, and impress him without any
warrant as a seaman in his Majesty's service; how far do you suppose
the inhabitants would think themselves warranted by law to interpose
against that lawless press-gang? I agree that such a press-gang
would be as unlawful an assembly as that was in King Street. If they
were to press an inhabitant and carry him off for a sailor, would not
the inhabitants think themselves warranted by law to interpose in
behalf of their fellow-citizen? Now, gentlemen, if the soldiers had
no right to interpose in the relief of the sentry, the inhabitants
would have no right to interpose with regard to the citizen, for
whatever is law for a soldier is law for a sailor and for a
citizen. They all stand upon an equal footing in this respect. I
believe we shall not have it disputed that it would be lawful to go
into King Street and help an honest man there against the
press-master. We have many instances in the books which authorize
it.
Now, suppose you should have a jealousy in your minds that the
people who made this attack upon the sentry had nothing in their
intention more than to take him off his post, and that was
threatened by some. Suppose they intended to go a little further,
and tar and feather him, or to ride him (as the phrase is in
Hudibras), he would have had a good right to have stood upon his
defense--the defense of his liberty; and if he could not preserve
that without the hazard of his own life, he would have been
warranted in depriving those of life who were endeavoring to
deprive him of his. That is a point I would not give up for my
right hand--nay, for my life.
Well, I say, if the people did this, or if this was only their
intention, surely the officers and soldiers had a right to go to his
relief; and therefore they set out upon a lawful errand. They were,
therefore, a lawful assembly, if we only consider them as private
subjects and fellow-citizens, without regard to mutiny acts,
articles of war, or soldiers' oaths. A private person, or any number
of private persons, has a right to go to the assistance of a
fellow-subject in distress or danger of his life, when assaulted and
in danger from a few or a multitude.
(Keyl. 136): "If a man perceives another by force to be injuriously
treated, pressed, and restrained of his liberty, though the person
abused doth not complain or call for aid or assistance, and others,
out of compassion, shall come to his rescue, and kill any of those
that shall so restrain him, that is manslaughter."
Keyl.: "A and others without any warrant impress B to serve the king
at sea. B quietly submitted, and went off with the pressmaster.
Hugett and the others pursued them, and required a sight of their
warrant; but they showing a piece of paper that was not a sufficient
warrant, thereupon Hugett with the others drew their swords, and the
pressmasters theirs, and so there was a combat, and those who
endeavored to rescue the pressed man killed one of the pretended
pressmasters. This was but manslaughter; for when the liberty of
one subject is invaded, it affects all the rest. It is a
provocation to all people, as being of ill example and pernicious
consequences."
Lord Raymond, 1301. The Queen _versus_ Tooley _et_ _al_. Lord
Chief-Justice Holt says: "The prisoner (i.e. Tooley) in this had
sufficient provocation; for if one be impressed upon an unlawful
authority, it is a sufficient provocation to all people out of
compassion; and where the liberty of the subject is invaded, it is a
provocation to all the subjects of England, etc.; and surely a man
ought to be concerned for Magna Charta and the laws: and if any one,
against the law, imprisons a man, he is an offender against Magna
Charta."
I am not insensible to Sir Michael Foster's observations on these
cases, but apprehend they do not invalidate the authority of them as
far as I now apply them to the purposes of my argument. If a
stranger, a mere fellow-subject, may interpose to defend the
liberty, he may, too, defend the life of another individual. But,
according to the evidence, some imprudent people, before the sentry,
proposed to take him off his post; others threatened his life; and
intelligence of this was carried to the main guard before any of the
prisoners turned out. They were then ordered out to relieve the
sentry; and any of our fellow-citizens might lawfully have gone upon
the same errand. They were, therefore, a lawful assembly.
I have but one point of law more to consider, and that is this: In
the case before you I do not pretend to prove that every one of the
unhappy persons slain was concerned in the riot. The authorities
read to you just now say it would be endless to prove whether every
person that was present and in a riot was concerned in planning the
first enterprise or not. Nay, I believe it but justice to say some
were perfectly innocent of the occasion. I have reason to suppose
that one of them was--Mr. Maverick. He was a very worthy young
man, as he has been represented to me, and had no concern in the
rioters' proceedings of that night; and I believe the same may be
said in favor of one more at least, Mr. Caldwell, who was slain;
and, therefore, many people may think that as he and perhaps another
was innocent, therefore innocent blood having been shed, that must
be expiated by the death of somebody or other. I take notice of
this, because one gentleman was nominated by the sheriff for a
juryman upon this trial, because he had said he believed Captain
Preston was innocent, but innocent blood had been shed, and
therefore somebody ought to be hanged for it, which he thought was
indirectly giving his opinion in this cause. I am afraid many other
persons have formed such an opinion. I do not take it to be a rule,
that where innocent blood is shed the person must die. In the
instance of the Frenchmen on the Plains of Abraham, they were
innocent, fighting for their king and country; their blood is as
innocent as any. There may be multitudes killed, when innocent
blood is shed on all sides; so that it is not an invariable rule. I
will put a case in which, I dare say, all will agree with me. Here
are two persons, the father and the son, go out a-hunting. They
take different roads. The father hears a rushing among the bushes,
takes it to be game, fires, and kills his son, through a mistake.
Here is innocent blood shed, but yet nobody will say the father
ought to die for it. So that the general rule of law is, that
whenever one person has a right to do an act, and that act, by any
accident takes away the life of another, it is excusable. It bears
the same regard to the innocent as to the guilty. If two men are
together, and attack me, and I have a right to kill them, I strike
at them, and by mistake strike a third and kill him, as I had a
right to kill the first, my killing the other will be excusable, as
it happened by accident. If I, in the heat of passion, aim a blow
at the person who has assaulted me, and aiming at him I kill another
person, it is but manslaughter.
(Foster. 261. section 3): "If an action unlawful in itself is done
deliberately, and with intention of mischief, or great bodily harm
to particulars, or of mischief indiscriminately, fall it where it
may, and death ensues, against or beside the original intention of
the party, it will be murder. But if such mischievous intention doth
not appear, which is matter of fact, and to be collected from
circumstances, and the act was done heedlessly and inconsiderately,
it will be manslaughter, not accidental death; because the act upon
which death ensued was unlawful."
Suppose, in this case, the mulatto man was the person who made the
assault; suppose he was concerned in the unlawful assembly, and this
party of soldiers, endeavoring to defend themselves against him,
happened to kill another person, who was innocent--though the
soldiers had no reason, that we know of, to think any person there,
at least of that number who were crowding about them, innocent; they
might, naturally enough, presume all to be guilty of the riot and
assault, and to come with the same design--I say, if on firing on
those who were guilty, they accidentally killed an innocent person,
it was not their fault. They were obliged to defend themselves
against those who were pressing upon them. They are not answerable
for it with their lives; for on supposition it was justifiable or
excusable to kill Attucks, or any other person, it will be equally
justifiable or excusable if in firing at him they killed another,
who was innocent; or if the provocation was such as to mitigate the
guilt of manslaughter, it will equally mitigate the guilt, if they
killed an innocent man undesignedly, in aiming at him who gave the
provocation, according to Judge Foster; and as this point is of such
consequence, I must produce some more authorities for it:
(1 Hawkins. 84): "Also, if a third person accidentally happen to be
killed by one engaged in a combat, upon a sudden quarrel, it seems
that he who killed him is guilty of manslaughter only," etc. (H. H
P. C. 442, to the same point; and 1 H. H. P. C. 484. and 4 Black,
27.)
I shall now consider one question more, and that is concerning
provocation. We have hitherto been considering self-defense, and
how far persons may go in defending themselves against aggressors,
even by taking away their lives, and now proceed to consider such
provocations as the law allows to mitigate or extenuate the guilt of
killing, where it is not justifiable or excusable. An assault and
battery committed upon a man in such a manner as not to endanger his
life is such a provocation as the law allows to reduce killing down
to the crime of manslaughter. Now, the law has been made on more
considerations than we are capable of making at present; the law
considers a man as capable of bearing anything and everything but
blows. I may reproach a man as much as I please; I may call him a
thief, robber, traitor, scoundrel, coward, lobster, bloody-back,
etc., and if he kill me it will be murder, if nothing else but words
precede; but if from giving him such kind of language I proceed to
take him by the nose, or fillip him on the forehead, that is an
assault; that is a blow. The law will not oblige a man to stand
still and bear it; there is the distinction. Hands off; touch me
not. As soon as you touch me, if I run you through the heart, it is
but manslaughter. The utility of this distinction, the more you
think of it the more you will be satisfied with it. It is an
assault whenever a blow is struck, let it be ever so slight, and
sometimes even without a blow. The law considers man as frail and
passionate. When his passions are touched, he will be thrown off
his guard, and therefore the law makes allowance for this frailty
--considers him as in a fit of passion, not having the possession of
his intellectual faculties, and therefore does not oblige him to
measure out his blows with a yard-stick, or weigh them in a scale.
Let him kill with a sword, gun, or hedge-stake, it is not murder,
but only manslaughter.
(Keyling's Report, 135. Regina _versus_ Mawgrige.) "Rules supported
by authority and general consent, showing what are always allowed to
be sufficient provocations. First, if one man upon any words shall
make an assault upon another, either by pulling him by the nose or
filliping him on the forehead, and he that is so assaulted shall
draw his sword and immediately run the other through, that is but
manslaughter, for the peace is broken by the person killed and with
an indignity to him that received the assault. Besides, he that was
so affronted might reasonably apprehend that he that treated him in
that manner might have some further design upon him."
So that here is the boundary, when a man is assaulted and kills in
consequence of that assault, it is but manslaughter. I will just
read as I go along the definition of assault:--
(1 Hawkins. ch. 62, section 1): "An assault is an attempt or offer, with
force or violence, to do a corporal hurt to another, as by striking
at him with or without a weapon, or presenting a gun at him at such
a distance to which the gun will carry, or pointing a pitchfork at
him, or by any other such like act done in angry, threatening
manner, etc.; but no words can amount to an assault,"
Here is the definition of an assault, which is a sufficient
provocation to soften killing down to manslaughter:--
(1 Hawkins, ch. 31, section 36): "Neither can he be thought guilty of a
greater crime than manslaughter, who, finding a man in bed with his
wife, or being actually struck by him, or pulled by the nose or
filliped upon the forehead, immediately kills him, or in the defense
of his person from an unlawful arrest, or in the defense of his
house from those who, claiming a title to it, attempt forcibly to
enter it, and to that purpose shoot at it," etc.
Every snowball, oyster shell, cake of ice, or bit of cinder, that
was thrown that night at the sentinel, was an assault upon him;
every one that was thrown at the party of soldiers was an assault
upon them, whether it hit any of them or not. I am guilty of an
assault if I present a gun at any person; and if I insult him in
that manner and he shoots me, it is but manslaughter.
(Foster. 295, 396): "To what I have offered with regard to sudden
rencounters let me add, that the blood already too much heated,
kindleth afresh at every pass or blow. And in the tumult of the
passions, in which the mere instinct of self-preservation has no
inconsiderable share, the voice of reason is not heard; and
therefore the law, in condescension to the infirmities of flesh and
blood, doth extenuate the offense."
Insolent, scurrilous, or slanderous language, when it precedes an
assault, aggravates it.
(Foster, 316): "We all know that words of reproach, how grating and
offensive soever, are in the eye of the law no provocation in the
case of voluntary homicide: and yet every man who hath considered
the human frame, or but attended to the workings of his own heart
knoweth that affronts of that kind pierce deeper and stimulate in
the veins more effectually than a slight injury done to a third
person, though under the color of justice, possibly can."
I produce this to show the assault in this case was aggravated by
the scurrilous language which preceded it. Such words of reproach
stimulate in the veins and exasperate the mind, and no doubt if an
assault and battery succeeds them, killing under such provocation is
softened to manslaughter, but killing without such provocation makes
it murder.
End of the first day's speech
JOHN QUINCY ADAMS (1767-1848)
No other American President, not even Thomas Jefferson, has equaled
John Quincy Adams in literary accomplishments. His orations and
public speeches will be found to stand for a tradition of
painstaking, scholastic finish hardly to be found elsewhere in
American orations, and certainly not among the speeches of any other
President. As a result of the pains he took with them, they belong
rather to literature than to politics, and it is possible that they
will not be generally appreciated at their real worth for several
generations still to come. If, as is sometimes alleged in such
cases, they gain in literary finish at the expense of force, it is
not to be forgotten that the forcible speech which, ignoring all
rules, carries its point by assault, may buy immediate effect at the
expense of permanent respectability. And if John Quincy Adams, who
labored as Cicero did to give his addresses the greatest possible
literary finish, does not rank with Cicero among orators, it is
certain that respectability will always be willingly conceded him by
every generation of his countrymen.
Some idea of the extent of his early studies may be gained from his
father's letter to Benjamin Waterhouse, written from Auteuil,
France, in 1785. John Quincy Adams being then only in his eighteenth
year, the elder Adams said of him:--
"If you were to examine him in English and French poetry, I know not
where you would find anybody his superior; in Roman and English
history few persons of his age. It is rare to find a youth possessed
of such knowledge. He has translated Virgil's 'Aeneid,' 'Suetonius,'
the whole of 'Sallust'; 'Tacitus,' 'Agricola'; his 'Germany' and
several other books of his 'Annals,' a great part of Horace, some
of Ovid, and some of Caesar's 'Commentaries,' in writing, besides a
number of Tully's orations. ... In Greek his progress has not been
equal, yet he has studied morsels in Aristotle's 'Poetics,' in
Plutarch's 'Lives,' and Lucian's 'Dialogues,' 'The Choice of
Hercules,' in Xenophon, and lately he has gone through several
books of Homer's 'Iliad.'"
The elder Adams concludes the list of his son's accomplishments with
a catalogue of his labors in mathematics hardly inferior in length
to that cited in the classics. Even if it were true, as has been
urged by the political opponents of the Adams family, that no one of
its members has ever shown more than respectable natural talent,
it would add overwhelming weight to the argument in favor of the
laborious habits of study which have characterized them to the third
and fourth generations, and, from the time of John Adams until our
own, have made them men of mark and far-reaching national influence.
In national politics, John Quincy Adams, the last of the line of
colonial gentlemen who achieved the presidency, stood for education,
for rigid ideas of moral duty, for dignity, for patriotism, for all
the virtues which are best cultivated through processes of
segregation. He ended an epoch in which it was possible for a man
who, as he did, wrote 'Poems on Religion and Society' and
paraphrased the Psalms into English verse to be elected President.
It has hardly been possible since his day.
Chosen as a Democrat in 1825, Mr. Adams was really the first Whig
President. His speeches are important, historically, because they
define political tendencies as a result of which the Whig party took
the place of the Federalist.
ORATION AT PLYMOUTH
(Delivered at Plymouth on the Twenty-Second Day of December, 1802,
in Commemoration of the Landing of the Pilgrims)
Among the sentiments of most powerful operation upon the human
heart, and most highly honorable to the human character, are those
of veneration for our forefathers, and of love for our posterity.
They form the connecting links between the selfish and the social
passions. By the fundamental principle of Christianity, the
happiness of the individual is interwoven, by innumerable and
imperceptible ties, with that of his contemporaries. By the power
of filial reverence and parental affection, individual existence is
extended beyond the limits of individual life, and the happiness of
every age is chained in mutual dependence upon that of every other.
Respect for his ancestors excites, in the breast of man, interest in
their history, attachment to their characters, concern for their
errors, involuntary pride in their virtues. Love for his posterity
spurs him to exertion for their support, stimulates him to virtue
for their example, and fills him with the tenderest solicitude for
their welfare. Man, therefore, was not made for himself alone. No,
he was made for his country, by the obligations of the social
compact; he was made for his species, by the Christian duties of
universal charity; he was made for all ages past, by the sentiment
of reverence for his forefathers; and he was made for all future
times, by the impulse of affection for his progeny. Under the
influence of these principles,
"Existence sees him spurn her bounded reign."
They redeem his nature from the subjection of time and space; he is
no longer a "puny insect shivering at a breeze"; he is the glory of
creation, formed to occupy all time and all extent; bounded, during
his residence upon earth, only to the boundaries of the world, and
destined to life and immortality in brighter regions, when the
fabric of nature itself shall dissolve and perish.
The voice of history has not, in all its compass, a note but answers
in unison with these sentiments. The barbarian chieftain, who
defended his country against the Roman invasion, driven to the
remotest extremity of Britain, and stimulating his followers to
battle by all that has power of persuasion upon the human heart,
concluded his persuasion by an appeal to these irresistible
feelings: "Think of your forefathers and of your posterity." The
Romans themselves, at the pinnacle of civilization, were actuated by
the same impressions, and celebrated, in anniversary festivals,
every great event which had signalized the annals of their
forefathers. To multiply instances where it were impossible to
adduce an exception would be to waste your time and abuse your
patience; but in the sacred volume, which contains the substance of
our firmest faith and of our most precious hopes, these passions not
only maintain their highest efficacy, but are sanctioned by the
express injunctions of the Divine Legislator to his chosen people.
The revolutions of time furnish no previous example of a nation
shooting up to maturity and expanding into greatness with the
rapidity which has characterized the growth of the American people.
In the luxuriance of youth, and in the vigor of manhood, it is
pleasing and instructive to look backwards upon the helpless days of
infancy; but in the continual and essential changes of a growing
subject, the transactions of that early period would be soon
obliterated from the memory but for some periodical call of
attention to aid the silent records of the historian. Such
celebrations arouse and gratify the kindliest emotions of the bosom.
They are faithful pledges of the respect we bear to the memory of
our ancestors and of the tenderness with which we cherish the rising
generation. They introduce the sages and heroes of ages past to the
notice and emulation of succeeding times; they are at once
testimonials of our gratitude, and schools of virtue to our
children.
These sentiments are wise; they are honorable; they are virtuous;
their cultivation is not merely innocent pleasure, it is incumbent
duty. Obedient to their dictates, you, my fellow-citizens, have
instituted and paid frequent observance to this annual solemnity.
And what event of weightier intrinsic importance, or of more
extensive consequences, was ever selected for this honorary
distinction?
In reverting to the period of our origin, other nations have
generally been compelled to plunge into the chaos of impenetrable
antiquity, or to trace a lawless ancestry into the caverns of
ravishers and robbers. It is your peculiar privilege to
commemorate, in this birthday of your nation, an event ascertained
in its minutest details; an event of which the principal actors are
known to you familiarly, as if belonging to your own age; an event
of a magnitude before which imagination shrinks at the imperfection
of her powers. It is your further happiness to behold, in those
eminent characters, who were most conspicuous in accomplishing the
settlement of your country, men upon whose virtue you can dwell with
honest exultation. The founders of your race are not handed down to
you, like the father of the Roman people, as the sucklings of a
wolf. You are not descended from a nauseous compound of fanaticism
and sensuality, whose only argument was the sword, and whose only
paradise was a brothel. No Gothic scourge of God, no Vandal pest of
nations, no fabled fugitive from the flames of Troy, no bastard
Norman tyrant, appears among the list of worthies who first landed
on the rock, which your veneration has preserved as a lasting
monument of their achievement. The great actors of the day we now
solemnize were illustrious by their intrepid valor no less than by
their Christian graces, but the clarion of conquest has not blazoned
forth their names to all the winds of heaven. Their glory has not
been wafted over oceans of blood to the remotest regions of the
earth. They have not erected to themselves colossal statues upon
pedestals of human bones, to provoke and insult the tardy hand of
heavenly retribution. But theirs was "the better fortitude of
patience and heroic martyrdom." Theirs was the gentle temper of
Christian kindness; the rigorous observance of reciprocal justice;
the unconquerable soul of conscious integrity. Worldly fame has
been parsimonious of her favor to the memory of those generous
companions. Their numbers were small; their stations in life
obscure; the object of their enterprise unostentatious; the theatre
of their exploits remote; how could they possibly be favorites of
worldly Fame--that common crier, whose existence is only known by
the assemblage of multitudes; that pander of wealth and greatness,
so eager to haunt the palaces of fortune, and so fastidious to the
houseless dignity of virtue; that parasite of pride, ever scornful
to meekness, and ever obsequious to insolent power; that heedless
trumpeter, whose ears are deaf to modest merit, and whose eyes are
blind to bloodless, distant excellence?
When the persecuted companions of Robinson, exiles from their native
land, anxiously sued for the privilege of removing a thousand
leagues more distant to an untried soil, a rigorous climate, and a
savage wilderness, for the sake of reconciling their sense of
religious duty with their affections for their country, few, perhaps
none of them, formed a conception of what would be, within two
centuries, the result of their undertaking. When the jealous and
niggardly policy of their British sovereign denied them even that
humblest of requests, and instead of liberty would barely consent to
promise connivance, neither he nor they might be aware that they
were laying the foundations of a power, and that he was sowing the
seeds of a spirit, which, in less than two hundred years, would
stagger the throne of his descendants, and shake his united kingdoms
to the centre. So far is it from the ordinary habits of mankind to
calculate the importance of events in their elementary principles,
that had the first colonists of our country ever intimated as a part
of their designs the project of founding a great and mighty nation,
the finger of scorn would have pointed them to the cells of bedlam
as an abode more suitable for hatching vain empires than the
solitude of a transatlantic desert.
These consequences, then so little foreseen, have unfolded
themselves, in all their grandeur, to the eyes of the present age.
It is a common amusement of speculative minds to contrast the
magnitude of the most important events with the minuteness of their
primeval causes, and the records of mankind are full of examples for
such contemplations. It is, however, a more profitable employment
to trace the constituent principles of future greatness in their
kernel; to detect in the acorn at our feet the germ of that majestic
oak, whose roots shoot down to the centre and whose branches aspire
to the skies. Let it be, then, our present occupation to inquire
and endeavor to ascertain the causes first put in operation at the
period of our commemoration, and already productive of such
magnificent effects; to examine with reiterated care and minute
attention the characters of those men who gave the first impulse to
a new series of events in the history of the world; to applaud and
emulate those qualities of their minds which we shall find deserving
of our admiration; to recognize with candor those features which
forbid approbation or even require censure, and, finally, to lay
alike their frailties and their perfections to our own hearts,
either as warning or as example.
Of the various European settlements upon this continent, which have
finally merged in one independent nation, the first establishments
were made at various times, by several nations, and under the
influence of different motives. In many instances, the conviction of
religious obligation formed one and a powerful inducement of the
adventures; but in none, excepting the settlement at Plymouth, did
they constitute the sole and exclusive actuating cause. Worldly
interest and commercial speculation entered largely into the views
of other settlers, but the commands of conscience were the only
stimulus to the emigrants from Leyden. Previous to their expedition
hither, they had endured a long banishment from their native
country. Under every species of discouragement, they undertook the
vogage; they performed it in spite of numerous and almost
insuperable obstacles; they arrived upon a wilderness bound with
frost and hoary with snow, without the boundaries of their charter,
outcasts from all human society, and coasted five weeks together, in
the dead of winter, on this tempestuous shore, exposed at once to
the fury of the elements, to the arrows of the native savage, and to
the impending horrors of famine.
Courage and perseverance have a magical talisman, before which
difficulties disappear and obstacles vanish into air. These
qualities have ever been displayed in their mightiest perfection, as
attendants in the retinue of strong passions. From the first
discovery of the Western Hemisphere by Columbus until the settlement
of Virginia which immediately preceded that of Plymouth, the various
adventurers from the ancient world had exhibited upon innumerable
occasions that ardor of enterprise and that stubbornness of pursuit
which set all danger at defiance, and chained the violence of nature
at their feet. But they were all instigated by personal interests.
Avarice and ambition had tuned their souls to that pitch of exaltation.
Selfish passions were the parents of their heroism. It was reserved
for the first settlers of New England to perform achievements
equally arduous, to trample down obstructions equally formidable, to
dispel dangers equally terrific, under the single inspiration of
conscience. To them even liberty herself was but a subordinate and
secondary consideration. They claimed exemption from the mandates
of human authority, as militating with their subjection to a
superior power. Before the voice of heaven they silenced even the
calls of their country.
Yet, while so deeply impressed with the sense of religious
obligation, they felt, in all its energy, the force of that tender
tie which binds the heart of every virtuous man to his native
land. It was to renew that connection with their country which had
been severed by their compulsory expatriation, that they resolved to
face all the hazards of a perilous navigation and all the labors of
a toilsome distant settlement. Under the mild protection of the
Batavian government, they enjoyed already that freedom of religious
worship, for which they had resigned so many comforts and enjoyments
at home; but their hearts panted for a restoration to the bosom of
their country. Invited and urged by the open-hearted and truly
benevolent people who had given them an asylum from the persecution
of their own kindred to form their settlement within the territories
then under their jurisdiction, the love of their country
predominated over every influence save that of conscience alone, and
they preferred the precarious chance of relaxation from the bigoted
rigor of the English government to the certain liberality and
alluring offers of the Hollanders. Observe, my countrymen, the
generous patriotism, the cordial union of soul, the conscious yet
unaffected vigor which beam in their application to the British
monarch:--
"They were well weaned from the delicate milk of their mother
country, and inured to the difficulties of a strange land. They were
knit together in a strict and sacred bond, to take care of the good
of each other and of the whole. It was not with them as with other
men, whom small things could discourage, or small discontents cause
to wish themselves again at home."
Children of these exalted Pilgrims! Is there one among you who can
hear the simple and pathetic energy of these expressions without
tenderness and admiration? Venerated shades of our forefathers! No,
ye were, indeed, not ordinary men! That country which had ejected
you so cruelly from her bosom you still delighted to contemplate in
the character of an affectionate and beloved mother. The sacred bond
which knit you together was indissoluble while you lived; and oh,
may it be to your descendants the example and the pledge of harmony
to the latest period of time! The difficulties and dangers, which so
often had defeated attempts of similar establishments, were unable
to subdue souls tempered like yours. You heard the rigid
interdictions; you saw the menacing forms of toil and danger,
forbidding your access to this land of promise; but you heard
without dismay; you saw and disdained retreat. Firm and undaunted in
the confidence of that sacred bond; conscious of the purity, and
convinced of the importance of your motives, you put your trust in
the protecting shield of Providence, and smiled defiance at the
combining terrors of human malice and of elemental strife. These, in
the accomplishment of your undertaking, you were summoned to
encounter in their most hideous forms; these you met with that
fortitude, and combatted with that perseverance, which you had
promised in their anticipation; these you completely vanquished in
establishing the foundations of New England, and the day which we
now commemorate is the perpetual memorial of your triumph.
It were an occupation peculiarly pleasing to cull from our early
historians, and exhibit before you every detail of this transaction;
to carry you in imagination on board their bark at the first moment
of her arrival in the bay; to accompany Carver, Winslow, Bradford,
and Standish, in all their excursions upon the desolate coast; to
follow them into every rivulet and creek where they endeavored to
find a firm footing, and to fix, with a pause of delight and
exultation, the instant when the first of these heroic adventurers
alighted on the spot where you, their descendants, now enjoy the
glorious and happy reward of their labors. But in this grateful
task, your former orators, on this anniversary, have anticipated all
that the most ardent industry could collect, and gratified all that
the most inquisitive curiosity could desire. To you, my friends,
every occurrence of that momentous period is already familiar. A
transient allusion to a few characteristic instances, which mark the
peculiar history of the Plymouth settlers, may properly supply the
place of a narrative, which, to this auditory, must be superfluous.
One of these remarkable incidents is the execution of that
instrument of government by which they formed themselves into a body
politic, the day after their arrival upon the coast, and previous to
their first landing. This is, perhaps, the only instance in human
history of that positive, original social compact, which speculative
philosophers have imagined as the only legitimate source of
government. Here was a unanimous and personal assent, by all the
individuals of the community, to the association by which they
became a nation. It was the result of circumstances and discussions
which had occurred during their passage from Europe, and is a full
demonstration that the nature of civil government, abstracted from
the political institutions of their native country, had been an
object of their serious meditation. The settlers of all the former
European colonies had contented themselves with the powers conferred
upon them by their respective charters, without looking beyond the
seal of the royal parchment for the measure of their rights and the
rule of their duties. The founders of Plymouth had been impelled by
the peculiarities of their situation to examine the subject with
deeper and more comprehensive research. After twelve years of
banishment from the land of their first allegiance, during which
they had been under an adoptive and temporary subjection to another
sovereign, they must naturally have been led to reflect upon the
relative rights and duties of allegiance and subjection. They had
resided in a city, the seat of a university, where the polemical and
political controversies of the time were pursued with uncommon
fervor. In this period they had witnessed the deadly struggle
between the two parties, into which the people of the United
Provinces, after their separation from the crown of Spain, had
divided themselves. The contest embraced within its compass not only
theological doctrines, but political principles, and Maurice and
Barnevelt were the temporal leaders of the same rival factions, of
which Episcopius and Polyander were the ecclesiastical champions.
That the investigation of the fundamental principles of government
was deeply implicated in these dissensions is evident from the
immortal work of Grotius, upon the rights of war and peace, which
undoubtedly originated from them. Grotius himself had been a most
distinguished actor and sufferer in those important scenes of
internal convulsion, and his work was first published very shortly
after the departure of our forefathers from Leyden. It is well
known that in the course of the contest Mr. Robinson more than once
appeared, with credit to himself, as a public disputant against
Episcopius; and from the manner in which the fact is related by
Governor Bradford, it is apparent that the whole English Church at
Leyden took a zealous interest in the religious part of the
controversy. As strangers in the land, it is presumable that they
wisely and honorably avoided entangling themselves in the political
contentions involved with it. Yet the theoretic principles, as they
were drawn into discussion, could not fail to arrest their
attention, and must have assisted them to form accurate ideas
concerning the origin and extent of authority among men, independent
of positive institutions. The importance of these circumstances
will not be duly weighed without taking into consideration the state
of opinion then prevalent in England. The general principles of
government were there little understood and less examined. The
whole substance of human authority was centred in the simple
doctrine of royal prerogative, the origin of which was always traced
in theory to divine institution. Twenty years later, the subject
was more industriously sifted, and for half a century became one of
the principal topics of controversy between the ablest and most
enlightened men in the nation. The instrument of voluntary
association executed on board the Mayflower testifies that the
parties to it had anticipated the improvement of their nation.
Another incident, from which we may derive occasion for important
reflections, was the attempt of these original settlers to establish
among them that community of goods and of labor, which fanciful
politicians, from the days of Plato to those of Rousseau, have
recommended as the fundamental law of a perfect republic. This
theory results, it must be acknowledged, from principles of
reasoning most flattering to the human character. If industry,
frugality, and disinterested integrity were alike the virtues of
all, there would, apparently, be more of the social spirit, in
making all property a common stock, and giving to each individual a
proportional title to the wealth of the whole. Such is the basis
upon which Plato forbids, in his Republic, the division of property.
Such is the system upon which Rousseau pronounces the first man who
enclosed a field with a fence, and, said, "This is mine," a traitor
to the human species. A wiser, and more useful philosophy, however,
directs us to consider man according to the nature in which he was
formed; subject to infirmities, which no wisdom can remedy; to
weaknesses, which no institution can strengthen; to vices, which no
legislation can correct. Hence, it becomes obvious that separate
property is the natural and indisputable right of separate exertion;
that community of goods without community of toil is oppressive and
unjust; that it counteracts the laws of nature, which prescribe that
he only who sows the seed shall reap the harvest; that it
discourages all energy, by destroying its rewards; and makes the
most virtuous and active members of society the slaves and drudges
of the worst. Such was the issue of this experiment among our
forefathers, and the same event demonstrated the error of the system
in the elder settlement of Virginia. Let us cherish that spirit of
harmony which prompted our forefathers to make the attempt, under
circumstances more favorable to its success than, perhaps, ever
occurred upon earth. Let us no less admire the candor with which
they relinquished it, upon discovering its irremediable inefficacy.
To found principles of government upon too advantageous an estimate
of the human character is an error of inexperience, the source of
which is so amiable that it is impossible to censure it with
severity. We have seen the same mistake, committed in our own age,
and upon a larger theatre. Happily for our ancestors, their
situation allowed them to repair it before its effects had proved
destructive. They had no pride of vain philosophy to support, no
perfidious rage of faction to glut, by persevering in their mistakes
until they should be extinguished in torrents of blood.
As the attempt to establish among themselves the community of goods
was a seal of that sacred bond which knit them so closely together,
so the conduct they observed towards the natives of the country
displays their steadfast adherence to the rules of justice and their
faithful attachment to those of benevolence and charity.
No European settlement ever formed upon this continent has been more
distinguished for undeviating kindness and equity towards the
savages. There are, indeed, moralists who have questioned the right
of the Europeans to intrude upon the possessions of the aboriginals
in any case, and under any limitations whatsoever. But have they
maturely considered the whole subject? The Indian right of
possession itself stands, with regard to the greatest part of the
country, upon a questionable foundation. Their cultivated fields;
their constructed habitations; a space of ample sufficiency for
their subsistence, and whatever they had annexed to themselves by
personal labor, was undoubtedly, by the laws of nature, theirs. But
what is the right of a huntsman to the forest of a thousand miles
over which he has accidentally ranged in quest of prey? Shall the
liberal bounties of Providence to the race of man be monopolized by
one of ten thousand for whom they were created? Shall the exuberant
bosom of the common mother, amply adequate to the nourishment of
millions, be claimed exclusively by a few hundreds of her offspring?
Shall the lordly savage not only disdain the virtues and enjoyments
of civilization himself, but shall he control the civilization of a
world? Shall he forbid the wilderness to blossom like a rose?
Shall he forbid the oaks of the forest to fall before the ax of
industry, and to rise again, transformed into the habitations of
ease and elegance? Shall he doom an immense region of the globe to
perpetual desolation, and to hear the howlings of the tiger and the
wolf silence forever the voice of human gladness? Shall the fields
and the valleys, which a beneficent God has formed to teem with the
life of innumerable multitudes, be condemned to everlasting
barrenness? Shall the mighty rivers, poured out by the hand of
nature, as channels of communication between numerous nations, roll
their waters in sullen silence and eternal solitude to the deep?
Have hundreds of commodious harbors, a thousand leagues of coast,
and a boundless ocean, been spread in the front of this land, and
shall every purpose of utility to which they could apply be
prohibited by the tenant of the woods? No, generous philanthropists!
Heaven has not been thus inconsistent in the works of its hands.
Heaven has not thus placed at irreconcilable strife its moral laws
with its physical creation. The Pilgrims of Plymouth obtained their
right of possession to the territory on which they settled, by
titles as fair and unequivocal as any human property can be held.
By their voluntary association they recognized their allegiance to
the government of Britain, and in process of time received whatever
powers and authorities could be conferred upon them by a charter
from their sovereign. The spot on which they fixed had belonged to
an Indian tribe, totally extirpated by that devouring pestilence
which had swept the country shortly before their arrival. The
territory, thus free from all exclusive possession, they might have
taken by the natural right of occupancy. Desirous, however, of
giving ample satisfaction to every pretense of prior right, by
formal and solemn conventions with the chiefs of the neighboring
tribes, they acquired the further security of a purchase. At their
hands the children of the desert had no cause of complaint. On the
great day of retribution, what thousands, what millions of the
American race will appear at the bar of judgment to arraign their
European invading conquerors! Let us humbly hope that the fathers
of the Plymouth Colony will then appear in the whiteness of
innocence. Let us indulge in the belief that they will not only be
free from all accusation of injustice to these unfortunate sons of
nature, but that the testimonials of their acts of kindness and
benevolence towards them will plead the cause of their virtues, as
they are now authenticated by the record of history upon earth.
Religious discord has lost her sting; the cumbrous weapons of
theological warfare are antiquated; the field of politics supplies
the alchemists of our times with materials of more fatal explosion,
and the butchers of mankind no longer travel to another world for
instruments of cruelty and destruction. Our age is too enlightened
to contend upon topics which concern only the interests of eternity;
the men who hold in proper contempt all controversies about trifles,
except such as inflame their own passions, have made it a
commonplace censure against your ancestors, that their zeal was
enkindled by subjects of trivial importance; and that however
aggrieved by the intolerance of others, they were alike intolerant
themselves. Against these objections, your candid judgment will not
require an unqualified justification; but your respect and gratitude
for the founders of the State may boldly claim an ample apology. The
original grounds of their separation from the Church of England were
not objects of a magnitude to dissolve the bonds of communion, much
less those of charity, between Christian brethren of the same
essential principles. Some of them, however, were not inconsiderable,
and numerous inducements concurred to give them an extraordinary
interest in their eyes. When that portentous system of abuses, the
Papal dominion, was overturned, a great variety of religious sects
arose in its stead in the several countries, which for many
centuries before had been screwed beneath its subjection. The
fabric of the reformation, first undertaken in England upon a
contracted basis, by a capricious and sanguinary tyrant, had been
successively overthrown and restored, renewed and altered, according
to the varying humors and principles of four successive monarchs.
To ascertain the precise point of division between the genuine
institutions of Christianity and the corruptions accumulated upon
them in the progress of fifteen centuries, was found a task of
extreme difficulty throughout the Christian world.
Men of the profoundest learning, of the sublimest genius, and of the
purest integrity, after devoting their lives to the research,
finally differed in their ideas upon many great points, both of
doctrine and discipline. The main question, it was admitted on all
hands, most intimately concerned the highest interests of man, both
temporal and eternal. Can we wonder that men who felt their
happiness here and their hopes of hereafter, their worldly welfare
and the kingdom of heaven at stake, should sometimes attach an
importance beyond their intrinsic weight to collateral points of
controversy, connected with the all-involving object of the
reformation? The changes in the forms and principles of religious
worship were introduced and regulated in England by the hand of
public authority. But that hand had not been uniform or steady in
its operations. During the persecutions inflicted in the interval
of Popish restoration under the reign of Mary, upon all who favored
the reformation, many of the most zealous reformers had been
compelled to fly their country. While residing on the continent of
Europe, they had adopted the principles of the most complete and
rigorous reformation, as taught and established by Calvin. On
returning afterwards to their native country, they were dissatisfied
with the partial reformation, at which, as they conceived, the
English establishment had rested; and claiming the privilege of
private conscience, upon which alone any departure from the Church
of Rome could be justified, they insisted upon the right of adhering
to the system of their own preference, and, of course, upon that of
nonconformity to the establishment prescribed by the royal
authority. The only means used to convince them of error and
reclaim them from dissent was force, and force served but to confirm
the opposition it was meant to suppress. By driving the founders of
the Plymouth Colony into exile, it constrained them to absolute
separation from the Church of England; and by the refusal afterwards
to allow them a positive toleration, even in this American
wilderness, the council of James I. rendered that separation
irreconcilable. Viewing their religious liberties here, as held
only by sufferance, yet bound to them by all the ties of conviction,
and by all their sufferings for them, could they forbear to look
upon every dissenter among themselves with a jealous eye? Within
two years after their landing, they beheld a rival settlement
attempted in their immediate neighborhood; and not long after, the
laws of self-preservation compelled them to break up a nest of
revelers, who boasted of protection from the mother country, and who
had recurred to the easy but pernicious resource of feeding their
wanton idleness, by furnishing the savages with the means, the
skill, and the instruments of European destruction. Toleration, in
that instance, would have been self-murder, and many other examples
might be alleged, in which their necessary measures of self-defense
have been exaggerated into cruelty, and their most indispensable
precautions distorted into persecution. Yet shall we not pretend
that they were exempt from the common laws of mortality, or entirely
free from all the errors of their age. Their zeal might sometimes
be too ardent, but it was always sincere. At this day, religious
indulgence is one of our clearest duties, because it is one of our
undisputed rights. While we rejoice that the principles of genuine
Christianity have so far triumphed over the prejudices of a former
generation, let us fervently hope for the day when it will prove
equally victorious over the malignant passions of our own.
In thus calling your attention to some of the peculiar features in
the principles, the character, and the history of our forefathers,
it is as wide from my design, as I know it would be from your
approbation, to adorn their memory with a chaplet plucked from the
domain of others. The occasion and the day are more peculiarly
devoted to them, and let it never be dishonored with a contracted
and exclusive spirit. Our affections as citizens embrace the whole
extent of the Union, and the names of Raleigh, Smith, Winthrop,
Calvert, Penn, and Oglethorpe, excite in our minds recollections
equally pleasing and gratitude equally fervent with those of Carver
and Bradford. Two centuries have not yet elapsed since the first
European foot touched the soil which now constitutes the American
Union. Two centuries more and our numbers must exceed those of
Europe itself. The destinies of this empire, as they appear in
prospect before us, disdain the powers of human calculation. Yet,
as the original founder of the Roman state is said once to have
lifted upon his shoulders the fame and fortunes of all his
posterity, so let us never forget that the glory and greatness of
all our descendants is in our hands. Preserve in all their purity,
refine, if possible, from all their alloy, those virtues which we
this day commemorate as the ornament of our forefathers. Adhere to
them with inflexible resolution, as to the horns of the altar;
instill them with unwearied perseverance into the minds of your
children; bind your souls and theirs to the national Union as the
chords of life are centred in the heart, and you shall soar with
rapid and steady wing to the summit of human glory. Nearly a
century ago, one of those rare minds to whom it is given to discern
future greatness in its seminal principles upon contemplating the
situation of this continent, pronounced, in a vein of poetic
inspiration, "Westward the star of empire takes its way." Let us
unite in ardent supplication to the Founder of nations and the
Builder of worlds, that what then was prophecy may continue
unfolding into history,--that the dearest hopes of the human race
may not be extinguished in disappointment, and that the last may
prove the noblest empire of time.
LAFAYETTE (Delivered in Congress, December 31st, 1834)
On the sixth of September, 1757, Lafayette was born. The kings of
Prance and Britain were seated upon their thrones by virtue of the
principle of hereditary succession, variously modified and blended
with different forms of religious faith, and they were waging war
against each other, and exhausting the blood and treasure of their
people for causes in which neither of the nations had any beneficial
or lawful interest.
In this war the father of Lafayette fell in the cause of his king
but not of his country. He was an officer of an invading army, the
instrument of his sovereign's wanton ambition and lust of conquest.
The people of the electorate of Hanover had done no wrong to him or
to his country. When his son came to an age capable of
understanding the irreparable loss that he had suffered, and to
reflect upon the causes of his father's fate, there was no drop of
consolation mingled in the cup from the consideration that he had
died for his country. And when the youthful mind was awakened to
meditation upon the rights of mankind, the principles of freedom,
and theories of government, it cannot be difficult to perceive in
the illustrations of his own family records the source of that
aversion to hereditary rule, perhaps the most distinguishing feature
of his own political opinions and to which he adhered through all
the vicissitudes of his life....
Lafayette was born a subject of the most absolute and most splendid
monarchy of Europe, and in the highest rank of her proud and
chivalrous nobility. He had been educated at a college of the
University of Paris, founded by the royal munificence of Louis XIV.,
or Cardinal Richelieu. Left an orphan in early childhood, with the
inheritance of a princely fortune, he had been married, at sixteen
years of age, to a daughter of the house of Noailles, the most
distinguished family of the kingdom, scarcely deemed in public
consideration inferior to that which wore the crown. He came into
active life, at the change from boy to man, a husband and a father,
in the full enjoyment of everything that avarice could covet, with a
certain prospect before him of all that ambition could crave. Happy
in his domestic affections, incapable, from the benignity of his
nature, of envy, hatred, or revenge, a life of "ignoble ease and
indolent repose" seemed to be that which nature and fortune had
combined to prepare before him. To men of ordinary mold this
condition would have led to a life of luxurious apathy and sensual
indulgence. Such was the life into which, from the operation of the
same causes, Louis XV. had sunk, with his household and court, while
Lafayette was rising to manhood surrounded by the contamination of
their example. Had his natural endowments been even of the higher
and nobler order of such as adhere to virtue, even in the lap of
prosperity, and in the bosom of temptation, he might have lived and
died a pattern of the nobility of France, to be classed, in
aftertimes, with the Turennes and the Montausiers of the age of
Louis XIV., or with the Villars or the Lamoignons of the age
immediately preceding his own.
But as, in the firmament of heaven that rolls over our heads, there
is, among the stars of the first magnitude, one so pre-eminent in
splendor as, in the opinion of astronomers, to constitute a class by
itself, so in the fourteen hundred years of the French monarchy,
among the multitudes of great and mighty men which it has evolved,
the name of Lafayette stands unrivaled in the solitude of glory.
In entering upon the threshold of life, a career was to open before
him. He had the option of the court and the camp. An office was
tendered to him in the household of the King's brother, the Count de
Provence, since successively a royal exile and a reinstated king.
The servitude and inaction of a court had no charms for him;
he preferred a commission in the army, and, at the time of the
Declaration of Independence, was a captain of dragoons in garrison
at Metz.
There, at an entertainment given by his relative, the Marechal de
Broglie, the commandant of the place, to the Duke of Gloucester,
brother to the British king, and then a transient traveler through
that part of France, he learns, as an incident of intelligence
received that morning by the English Prince from London, that the
congress of rebels at Philadelphia had issued a Declaration of
Independence. A conversation ensues upon the causes which have
contributed to produce this event, and upon the consequences which
may be expected to flow from it. The imagination of Lafayette has
caught across the Atlantic tide the spark emitted from the
Declaration of Independence; his heart has kindled at the shock,
and, before he slumbers upon his pillow, he has resolved to devote
his life and fortune to the cause.
You have before you the cause and the man. The self-devotion of
Lafayette was twofold. First to the people, maintaining a bold and
seemingly desperate struggle against oppression, and for national
existence. Secondly, and chiefly, to the principles of their
declaration, which then first unfurled before his eyes the
consecrated standard of human rights. To that standard, without an
instant of hesitation, he repaired. Where it would lead him, it is
scarcely probable that he himself then foresaw. It was then
identical with the Stars and Stripes of the American Union, floating
to the breeze from the Hall of Independence, at Philadelphia. Nor
sordid avarice, nor vulgar ambition, could point his footsteps to
the pathway leading to that banner. To the love of ease or pleasure
nothing could be more repulsive. Something may be allowed to the
beatings of the youthful breast, which make ambition virtue, and
something to the spirit of military adventure, imbibed from his
profession, and which he felt in common with many others. France,
Germany, Poland, furnished to the armies of this Union, in our
revolutionary struggle, no inconsiderable number of officers of high
rank and distinguished merit. The names of Pulaski and De Kalb are
numbered among the martyrs of our freedom, and their ashes repose in
our soil side by side with the canonized bones of Warren and of
Montgomery. To the virtues of Lafayette, a more protracted career
and happier earthly destinies were reserved. To the moral principle
of political action, the sacrifices of no other man were comparable
to his. Youth, health, fortune; the favor of his king; the
enjoyment of ease and pleasure; even the choicest blessings of
domestic felicity--he gave them all for toil and danger in a
distant land, and an almost hopeless cause; but it was the cause of
justice, and of the rights of human kind. ...
Pronounce him one of the first men of his age, and you have not yet
done him justice. Try him by that test to which he sought in vain to
stimulate the vulgar and selfish spirit of Napoleon; class him among
the men who, to compare and seat themselves, must take in the
compass of all ages; turn back your eyes upon the records of time,
summon from the creation of the world to this day the mighty dead of
every age and every clime--and where, among the race of merely
mortal men, shall one be found, who, as the benefactor of his kind,
shall claim to take precedence of Lafayette?
There have doubtless been, in all ages, men whose discoveries or
inventions, in the world of matter or of mind, have opened new
avenues to the dominion of man over the material creation; have
increased his means or his faculties of enjoyment; have raised him
in nearer approximation to that higher and happier condition, the
object of his hopes and aspirations in his present state of existence.
Lafayette discovered no new principle of politics or of morals. He
invented nothing in science. He disclosed no new phenomenon in the
laws of nature. Born and educated in the highest order of feudal
nobility, under the most absolute monarchy of Europe, in possession
of an affluent fortune, and master of himself and of all his
capabilities, at the moment of attaining manhood the principle of
republican justice and of social equality took possession of his
heart and mind, as if by inspiration from above. He devoted
himself, his life, his fortune, his hereditary honors, his towering
ambition, his splendid hopes, all to the cause of liberty. He came
to another hemisphere to defend her. He became one of the most
effective champions of our independence; but, that once achieved, he
returned to his own country, and thenceforward took no part in the
controversies which have divided us. In the events of our
revolution, and in the forms of policy which we have adopted for the
establishment and perpetuation of our freedom, Lafayette found the
most perfect form of government. He wished to add nothing to it.
He would gladly have abstracted nothing from it. Instead of the
imaginary republic of Plato, or the Utopia of Sir Thomas Moore, he
took a practical existing model, in actual operation here, and never
attempted or wished more than to apply it faithfully to his own
country.
It was not given to Moses to enter the promised land; but he saw it
from the summit of Pisgah. It was not given to Lafayette to witness
the consummation of his wishes in the establishment of a republic
and the extinction of all hereditary rule in France. His principles
were in advance of the age and hemisphere in which he lived. A
Bourbon still reigns on the throne of France, and it is not for us
to scrutinize the title by which he reigns. The principles of
elective and hereditary power, blended in reluctant union in his
person, like the red and white roses of York and Lancaster, may
postpone to aftertime the last conflict to which they must
ultimately come. The life of the patriarch was not long enough for
the development of his whole political system. Its final
accomplishment is in the womb of time.
The anticipation of this event is the more certain, from the
consideration that all the principles for which Lafayette contended
were practical. He never indulged himself in wild and fanciful
speculations. The principle of hereditary power was, in his
opinion, the bane of all republican liberty in Europe. Unable to
extinguish it in the Revolution of 1830, so far as concerned the
chief magistracy of the nation, Lafayette had the satisfaction of
seeing it abolished with reference to the peerage. An hereditary
crown, stript of the support which it may derive from an hereditary
peerage, however compatible with Asiatic despotism, is an anomaly in
the history of the Christian world, and in the theory of free
government. There is no argument producible against the existence
of an hereditary peerage but applies with aggravated weight against
the transmission, from sire to son, of an hereditary crown. The
prejudices and passions of the people of France rejected the
principle of inherited power, in every station of public trust,
excepting the first and highest of them all; but there they clung to
it, as did the Israelites of old to the savory deities of Egypt.
This is not the time nor the place for a disquisition upon the
comparative merits, as a system of government, of a republic, and a
monarchy surrounded by republican institutions. Upon this subject
there is among us no diversity of opinion; and if it should take the
people of France another half century of internal and external war,
of dazzling and delusive glories; of unparalleled triumphs,
humiliating reverses, and bitter disappointments, to settle it to
their satisfaction, the ultimate result can only bring them to the
point where we have stood from the day of the Declaration of
Independence--to the point where Lafayette would have brought
them, and to which he looked as a consummation devoutly to be
wished.
Then, too, and then only, will be the time when the character of
Lafayette will be appreciated at its true value throughout the
civilized world. When the principle of hereditary dominion shall be
extinguished in all the institutions of France; when government
shall no longer be considered as property transmissible from sire to
son, but as a trust committed for a limited time, and then to return
to the people whence it came; as a burdensome duty to be discharged,
and not as a reward to be abused; when a claim, any claim, to
political power by inheritance shall, in the estimation of the whole
French people, be held as it now is by the whole people of the North
American Union--then will be the time for contemplating the
character of Lafayette, not merely in the events of his life, but in
the full development of his intellectual conceptions, of his fervent
aspirations, of the labors and perils and sacrifices of his long and
eventful career upon earth; and thenceforward, till the hour when
the trump of the Archangel shall sound to announce that Time shall
be no more, the name of Lafayette shall stand enrolled upon the
annals of our race, high on the list of the pure and disinterested
benefactors of mankind.
THE JUBILEE OF THE CONSTITUTION (Delivered at New York, April 30th, 1839)
Fellow-Citizens and Brethren, Associates of the New York Historical
Society:--
Would it be an unlicensed trespass of the imagination to conceive
that on the night preceding the day of which you now commemorate the
fiftieth anniversary--on the night preceding that thirtieth of
April, 1789, when from the balcony of your city hall the chancellor
of the State of New York administered to George Washington the
solemn oath faithfully to execute the office of President of the
United States, and to the best of his ability to preserve, protect,
and defend the Constitution of the United States--that in the
visions of the night the guardian angel of the Father of our country
had appeared before him, in the venerated form of his mother, and,
to cheer and encourage him in the performance of the momentous and
solemn duties that he was about to assume, had delivered to him a
suit of celestial armor--a helmet, consisting of the principles of
piety, of justice, of honor, of benevolence, with which from his
earliest infancy he had hitherto walked through life, in the
presence of all his brethren; a spear, studded with the self-evident
truths of the Declaration of Independence; a sword, the same with
which he had led the armies of his country through the war of
freedom to the summit of the triumphal arch of independence; a
corslet and cuishes of long experience and habitual intercourse in
peace and war with the world of mankind, his contemporaries of the
human race, in all their stages of civilization; and, last of all,
the Constitution of the United States, a shield, embossed by
heavenly hands with the future history of his country.
Yes, gentlemen, on that shield the Constitution of the United States
was sculptured (by forms unseen, and in characters then invisible to
mortal eye), the predestined and prophetic history of the one
confederated people of the North American Union.
They had been the settlers of thirteen separate and distinct English
colonies, along the margin of the shore of the North American
continent; contiguously situated, but chartered by adventurers of
characters variously diversified, including sectarians, religious
and political, of all the classes which for the two preceding
centuries had agitated and divided the people of the British islands
--and with them were intermingled the descendants of Hollanders,
Swedes, Germans, and French fugitives from the persecution of the
revoker of the Edict of Nantes.
In the bosoms of this people, thus heterogeneously composed, there
was burning, kindled at different furnaces, but all furnaces of
affliction, one clear, steady flame of liberty. Bold and daring
enterprise, stubborn endurance of privation, unflinching intrepidity
in facing danger, and inflexible adherence to conscientious
principle, had steeled to energetic and unyielding hardihood the
characters of the primitive settlers of all these colonies. Since
that time two or three generations of men had passed away, but they
had increased and multiplied with unexampled rapidity; and the land
itself had been the recent theatre of a ferocious and bloody
seven-years' war between the two most powerful and most civilized
nations of Europe contending for the possession of this continent.
Of that strife the victorious combatant had been Britain. She had
conquered the provinces of France. She had expelled her rival
totally from the continent, over which, bounding herself by the
Mississippi, she was thenceforth to hold divided empire only with
Spain. She had acquired undisputed control over the Indian tribes
still tenanting the forests unexplored by the European man. She had
established an uncontested monopoly of the commerce of all her
colonies. But forgetting all the warnings of preceding ages--
forgetting the lessons written in the blood of her own children,
through centuries of departed time, she undertook to tax the people
of the colonies without their consent.
Resistance, instantaneous, unconcerted, sympathetic, inflexible
resistance, like an electric shock, startled and roused the people
of all the English colonies on this continent.
This was the first signal of the North American Union, The struggle
was for chartered rights--for English liberties--for the cause
of Algernon Sidney and John Hampden--for trial by jury--the
Habeas Corpus and Magna Charta.
But the English lawyers had decided that Parliament was
omnipotent--and Parliament, in its omnipotence, instead of trial by
jury and the Habeas Corpus, enacted admiralty courts in England to
try Americans for offenses charged against them as committed in
America; instead of the privileges of Magna Charta, nullified the
charter itself of Massachusetts Bay; shut up the port of Boston;
sent armies and navies to keep the peace and teach the colonies that
John Hampden was a rebel and Algernon Sidney a traitor.
English liberties had failed them. From the omnipotence of
Parliament the Colonists appealed to the rights of man and the
omnipotence of the God of battles. Union! Union! was the instinctive
and simultaneous cry throughout the land. Their congress, assembled
at Philadelphia, once--twice--had petitioned the king; had
remonstrated to Parliament; had addressed the people of Britain, for
the rights of Englishmen--in vain. Fleets and armies, the blood of
Lexington, and the fires of Charlestown and Falmouth, had been the
answer to petition, remonstrance, and address. ...
The dissolution of allegiance to the British crown, the severance of
the colonies from the British empire, and their actual existence as
independent States, were definitively established in fact, by war
and peace. The independence of each separate State had never been
declared of right. It never existed in fact. Upon the principles of
the Declaration of Independence, the dissolution of the ties of
allegiance, the assumption of sovereign power, and the institution
of civil government, are all acts of transcendent authority, which
the people alone are competent to perform; and, accordingly, it is
in the name and by the authority of the people, that two of these
acts--the dissolution of allegiance, with the severance from the
British empire, and the declaration of the United Colonies, as free
and independent States, were performed by that instrument.
But there still remained the last and crowning act, which the people
of the Union alone were competent to perform--the institution of
civil government, for that compound nation, the United States of
America.
At this day it cannot but strike us as extraordinary, that it does
not appear to have occurred to any one member of that assembly,
which had laid down in terms so clear, so explicit, so unequivocal,
the foundation of all just government, in the imprescriptible rights
of man, and the transcendent sovereignty of the people, and who in
those principles had set forth their only personal vindication from
the charges of rebellion against their king, and of treason to their
country, that their last crowning act was still to be performed upon
the same principles. That is, the institution, by the people of the
United States, of a civil government, to guard and protect and
defend them all. On the contrary, that same assembly which issued
the Declaration of Independence, instead of continuing to act in the
name and by the authority of the good people of the United States,
had, immediately after the appointment of the committee to prepare
the Declaration, appointed another committee, of one member from
each colony, to prepare and digest the form of confederation to be
entered into between the colonies.
That committee reported on the twelfth of July, eight days after the
Declaration of Independence had been issued, a draft of articles of
confederation between the colonies. This draft was prepared by John
Dickinson, then a delegate from Pennsylvania, who voted against the
Declaration of Independence, and never signed it, having been
superseded by a new election of delegates from that State, eight
days after his draft was reported.
There was thus no congeniality of principle between the Declaration
of Independence and the articles of confederation. The foundation of
the former was a superintending Providence--the rights of man, and
the constituent revolutionary power of the people. That of the
latter was the sovereignty of organized power, and the independence
of the separate or dis-united States. The fabric of the Declaration
and that of the confederation were each consistent with its own
foundation, but they could not form one consistent, symmetrical
edifice. They were the productions of different minds and of adverse
passions; one, ascending for the foundation of human government to
the laws of nature and of God, written upon the heart of man; the
other, resting upon the basis of human institutions, and
prescriptive law, and colonial charter. The corner stone of the one
was right, that of the other was power. ...
Where, then, did each State get the sovereignty, freedom, and
independence, which the articles of confederation declare it
retains?--not from the whole people of the whole Union--not from
the Declaration of Independence--not from the people of the State
itself. It was assumed by agreement between the legislatures of the
several States, and their delegates in Congress, without authority
from or consultation of the people at all.
In the Declaration of Independence, the enacting and constituent
party dispensing and delegating sovereign power is the whole people
of the United Colonies. The recipient party, invested with power, is
the United Colonies, declared United States.
In the articles of confederation, this order of agency is inverted.
Each State is the constituent and enacting party, and the United
States in Congress assembled the recipient of delegated power--and
that power delegated with such a penurious and carking hand that it
had more the aspect of a revocation of the Declaration of
Independence than an instrument to carry it into effect.
None of these indispensably necessary powers were ever conferred by
the State legislatures upon the Congress of the federation; and well
was it that they never were. The system itself was radically
defective. Its incurable disease was an apostasy from the principles
of the Declaration of Independence. A substitution of separate State
sovereignties, in the place of the constituent sovereignty of the
people, was the basis of the Confederate Union.
In the Congress of the confederation, the master minds of James
Madison and Alexander Hamilton were constantly engaged through the
closing years of the Revolutionary War and those of peace which
immediately succeeded. That of John Jay was associated with them
shortly after the peace, in the capacity of secretary to the
Congress for foreign affairs. The incompetency of the articles of
confederation for the management of the affairs of the Union at home
and abroad was demonstrated to them by the painful and mortifying
experience of every day. Washington, though in retirement, was
brooding over the cruel injustice suffered by his associates in
arms, the warriors of the Revolution; over the prostration of the
public credit and the faith of the nation, in the neglect to provide
for the payment even of the interest upon the public debt; over the
disappointed hopes of the friends of freedom; in the language of the
address from Congress to the States of the eighteenth of April, 1783
--"the pride and boast of America, that the rights for which she
contended were the rights of human nature."
At his residence at Mount Vernon, in March 1785, the first idea was
started of a revisal of the articles of confederation, by an
organization, of means differing from that of a compact between the
State legislatures and their own delegates in Congress. A
convention of delegates from the State legislatures, independent of
the Congress itself, was the expedient which presented itself for
effecting the purpose, and an augmentation of the powers of Congress
for the regulation of commerce, as the object for which this
assembly was to be convened. In January 1786 the proposal was made
and adopted in the legislature of Virginia, and communicated to the
other State legislatures.
The convention was held at Annapolis, in September of that year. It
was attended by delegates from only five of the central States, who,
on comparing their restricted powers with the glaring and
universally acknowledged defects of the confederation reported only
a recommendation for the assemblage of another convention of
delegates to meet at Philadelphia, in May 1787, from all the States,
and with enlarged powers.
The Constitution of the United States was the work of this
convention. But in its construction the convention immediately
perceived that they must retrace their steps, and fall back from a
league of friendship between sovereign States to the constituent
sovereignty of the people; from power to right--from the
irresponsible despotism of State sovereignty to the self-evident
truths of the Declaration of Independence. In that instrument, the
right to institute and to alter governments among men was ascribed
exclusively to the people--the ends of government were declared to
be to secure the natural rights of man; and that when the government
degenerates from the promotion to the destruction of that end, the
right and the duty accrues to the people to dissolve this degenerate
government and to institute another. The signers of the Declaration
further averred, that the one people of the United Colonies were
then precisely in that situation--with a government degenerated
into tyranny, and called upon by the laws of nature and of nature's
God to dissolve that government and to institute another. Then, in
the name and by the authority of the good people of the colonies,
they pronounced the dissolution of their allegiance to the king, and
their eternal separation from the nation of Great Britain--and
declared the United Colonies independent States. And here as the
representatives of the one people they had stopped. They did not
require the confirmation of this act, for the power to make the
declaration had already been conferred upon them by the people,
delegating the power, indeed, separately in the separate colonies,
not by colonial authority, but by the spontaneous revolutionary
movement of the people in them all.
From the day of that Declaration, the constituent power of the
people had never been called into action. A confederacy had been
substituted in the place of a government, and State sovereignty had
usurped the constituent sovereignty of the people.
The convention assembled at Philadelphia had themselves no direct
authority from the people. Their authority was all derived from the
State legislatures. But they had the articles of confederation
before them, and they saw and felt the wretched condition into which
they had brought the whole people, and that the Union itself was in
the agonies of death. They soon perceived that the indispensably
needed powers were such as no State government, no combination of
them, was by the principles of the Declaration of Independence
competent to bestow. They could emanate only from the people. A
highly respectable portion of the assembly, still clinging to the
confederacy of States, proposed, as a substitute for the
Constitution, a mere revival of the articles of confederation, with
a grant of additional powers to the Congress. Their plan was
respectfully and thoroughly discussed, but the want of a government
and of the sanction of the people to the delegation of powers
happily prevailed. A constitution for the people, and the
distribution of legislative, executive, and judicial powers was
prepared. It announced itself as the work of the people themselves;
and as this was unquestionably a power assumed by the convention,
not delegated to them by the people, they religiously confined it to
a simple power to propose, and carefully provided that it should be
no more than a proposal until sanctioned by the confederation
Congress, by the State legislatures, and by the people of the
several States, in conventions specially assembled, by authority of
their legislatures, for the single purpose of examining and passing
upon it.
And thus was consummated the work commenced by the Declaration of
Independence--a work in which the people of the North American
Union, acting under the deepest sense of responsibility to the
Supreme Ruler of the universe, had achieved the most transcendent
act of power that social man in his mortal condition can perform--
even that of dissolving the ties of allegiance by which he is bound
to his country; of renouncing that country itself; of demolishing
its government; of instituting another government; and of making for
himself another country in its stead.
And on that day, of which you now commemorate the fiftieth
anniversary,--on that thirtieth day of April, 1789,--was this
mighty revolution, not only in the affairs of our own country,
but in the principles of government over civilized man, accomplished.
The revolution itself was a work of thirteen years--and had never
been completed until that day. The Declaration of Independence and
the Constitution of the United States are parts of one consistent
whole, founded upon one and the same theory of government, then new
in practice, though not as a theory, for it had been working itself
into the mind of man for many ages, and had been especially
expounded in the writings of Locke, though it had never before been
adopted by a great nation in practice.
There are yet, even at this day, many speculative objections to this
theory. Even in our own country, there are still philosophers who
deny the principles asserted in the Declaration, as self-evident
truths--who deny the natural equality and inalienable rights of man
--who deny that the people are the only legitimate source of power
--who deny that all just powers of government are derived from the
consent of the governed. Neither your time, nor perphaps the
cheerful nature of this occasion, permit me here to enter upon the
examination of this anti-revolutionary theory, which arrays State
sovereignty against the constituent sovereignty of the people, and
distorts the Constitution of the United States into a league of
friendship between confederate corporations, I speak to matters of
fact. There is the Declaration of Independence, and there is the
Constitution of the United States--let them speak for themselves.
The grossly immoral and dishonest doctrine of despotic State
sovereignty, the exclusive judge of its own obligations, and
responsible to no power on earth or in heaven, for the violation of
them, is not there. The Declaration says, it is not in me. The
Constitution says, it is not in me.
SAMUEL ADAMS (1723-1803)
Samuel Adams, called by his contemporaries, "the Father of the
American Revolution," drew up in 1764 the instructions of the people
of Boston to their representatives in the Massachusetts general
assembly, containing what is said to be the first official denial of
the right of the British Parliament to tax the Colonists.
Deeply religious by nature, having what Everett calls "a most
angelic voice," studying sacred music as an avocation, and
exhibiting through life the fineness of nerve and sensitiveness of
temperament which gave him his early disposition to escape the
storms of life by a career in the pulpit, circumstances, or rather
his sense of fitness, dominating his physical weakness, imposed on
him the work of leading in what results have shown to be the
greatest revolution of history. So sensitive, physically, that he
had "a tremulous motion of the head when speaking," his intellectual
force was such that he easily became a leader of popular opposition
to royal authority in New England. Unlike Jefferson in being a
fluent public speaker, he resembled him in being the intellectual
heir of Sidney and Locke. He showed very early in life the bent
which afterwards forced him, as it did the naturally timid and
retiring Jefferson, to take the leadership of the uneducated masses
of the people against the wealth, the culture, and the conservatism
of the colonial aristocracy.
After passing through the Lovell School he graduated at Harvard
College, and on proposing a thesis for his second degree, as college
custom required, he defended the proposition that "it is lawful to
resist the supreme authority, if the commonwealth cannot otherwise
be preserved." Like questions had been debated during the Middle
Ages from the time returning Crusaders brought back with them copies
of Aristotle and other great Greek philosophers whose authority was
still reverenced at Byzantium and Bagdad when London and Paris knew
nothing of them. Out of the denial of one set of schoolmen that a
divine right to rule, greater than that derived from the people,
could exist in kings, grew the political controversy which preceded
the English revolution against the Stuarts. Our revolution grew out
of the English as the French grew out of ours, and in putting on his
seal Cromwell's motto, "Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God,"
Jefferson, the Virginian, illustrated the same intellectual
heredity which Samuel Adams, the New Englander, showed in asserting
the right of the people composing the Commonwealth to resist the
supreme authority when in their judgment its exercise had become
prejudicial to their rights or their interests.
From 1764 when he was chosen to present the denial made by the
people of Boston of the English Parliament's right to tax them,
until he joined Jefferson in forcing on the then unprepared mind of
the public the idea of a complete and final separation from the
"Mother Country," his aggressive denunciations of the English
government's attempts at absolutism made him so hated by the English
administration and its colonial representatives that, with John
Hancock, he was specially exempted from General Gage's amnesty
proclamation of June 1775, as "having committed offenses of too
flagitious a nature to admit of any other consideration than that of
condign punishment."
Joining with John Adams, Franklin, and Jefferson in forcing issues
for complete separation from England and for the formal Declaration
of Independence, Samuel Adams was himself the author of the
celebrated circular letter addressed by the assembly of
Massachusetts to the speakers of the several assemblies in other
colonies. In 1774 he was chosen a member of the Continental
Congress, where he took a prominent part in preventing the
possibility of compromise with England. In 1794 he succeeded Hancock
as governor of Massachusetts, retiring in 1797 because of "the
increasing infirmities of age."
Like many other statesmen of his time he lived the greater part of
his life in poverty, but his only son, dying before him, left him a
property which supported him in his old age.
It is said that his great oration on American Independence,
delivered at Philadelphia in August 1776, and published here, is the
only complete address of his which has come down to us. It was
translated into French and published in Paris, and it is believed
that Napoleon borrowed from it the phrase, "A Nation of
Shopkeepers," to characterize the English.
AMERICAN INDEPENDENCE
Countrymen and Brethren:--
I would gladly have declined an honor to which I find myself
unequal. I have not the calmness and impartiality which the
infinite importance of this occasion demands. I will not deny the
charge of my enemies, that resentment for the accumulated injuries
of our country, and an ardor for her glory, rising to enthusiasm,
may deprive me of that accuracy of judgment and expression which men
of cooler passions may possess. Let me beseech you, then, to hear
me with caution, to examine your prejudice, and to correct the
mistakes into which I may be hurried by my zeal.
Truth loves an appeal to the common sense of mankind. Your
unperverted understandings can best determine on subjects of a
practical nature. The positions and plans which are said to be above
the comprehension of the multitude may be always suspected to be
visionary and fruitless. He who made all men hath made the truths
necessary to human happiness obvious to all.
Our forefathers threw off the yoke of Popery in religion; for you is
reserved the honor of leveling the popery of politics. They opened
the Bible to all, and maintained the capacity of every man to judge
for himself in religion. Are we sufficient for the comprehension of
the sublimest spiritual truths, and unequal to material and temporal
ones?
Heaven hath trusted us with the management of things for eternity,
and man denies us ability to judge of the present, or to know from
our feelings the experience that will make us happy. "You can
discern," they say, "objects distant and remote, but cannot perceive
those within your grasp. Let us have the distribution of present
goods, and cut out and manage as you please the interests of
futurity." This day, I trust, the reign of political protestantism
will commence. We have explored the temple of royalty, and found
that the idol we have bowed down to has eyes which see not, ears
that hear not our prayers, and a heart like the nether millstone. We
have this day restored the Sovereign to whom alone men ought to be
obedient. He reigns in Heaven, and with a propitious eye beholds his
subjects assuming that freedom of thought and dignity of
self-direction which he bestowed on them. From the rising to the
setting sun, may his kingdom come!
Having been a slave to the influence of opinion early acquired, and
distinctions generally received, I am ever inclined not to despise
but pity those who are yet in darkness. But to the eye of reason
what can be more clear than that all men have an equal right to
happiness? Nature made no other distinction than that of higher and
lower degrees of power of mind and body. But what mysterious
distribution of character has the craft of statesmen, more fatal
than priestcraft, introduced?
According to their doctrine, the offspring of perhaps the lewd
embraces of a successful invader shall, from generation to
generation, arrogate the right of lavishing on their pleasures a
proportion of the fruits of the earth, more than sufficient to
supply the wants of thousands of their fellow-creatures; claim
authority to manage them like beasts of burthen, and, without
superior industry, capacity, or virtue, nay, though disgraceful to
humanity by their ignorance, intemperance, and brutality, shall be
deemed best calculated to frame laws and to consult for the welfare
of society.
Were the talents and virtues which heaven has bestowed on men given
merely to make them more obedient drudges, to be sacrificed to the
follies and ambition of a few? Or, were not the noble gifts so
equally dispensed with a divine purpose and law, that they should as
nearly as possible be equally exerted, and the blessings of
Providence be equally enjoyed by all? Away, then, with those absurd
systems which to gratify the pride of a few debase the greater part
of our species below the order of men. What an affront to the King
of the universe, to maintain that the happiness of a monster, sunk
in debauchery and spreading desolation and murder among men, of a
Caligula, a Nero, or a Charles, is more precious in his sight than
that of millions of his suppliant creatures, who do justice, love
mercy, and walk humbly with their God! No, in the judgment of heaven
there is no other superiority among men than a superiority in wisdom
and virtue. And can we have a safer model in forming ours? The
Deity, then, has not given any order or family of men authority over
others; and if any men have given it, they only could give it for
themselves. Our forefathers, 'tis said, consented to be subject to
the laws of Great Britain. I will not, at present, dispute it, nor
mark out the limits and conditions of their submission; but will it
be denied that they contracted to pay obedience and to be under the
control of Great Britain because it appeared to them most beneficial
in their then present circumstances and situations? We, my
countrymen, have the same right to consult and provide for our
happiness which they had to promote theirs. If they had a view to
posterity in their contracts, it must have been to advance the
felicity of their descendants. If they erred in their expectations
and prospects, we can never be condemned for a conduct which they
would have recommended had they foreseen our present condition.
Ye darkeners of counsel, who would make the property, lives and
religion of millions depend on the evasive interpretations of musty
parchments; who would send us to antiquated charters of uncertain
and contradictory meaning, to prove that the present generation are
not bound to be victims to cruel and unforgiving despotism, tell us
whether our pious and generous ancestors bequeathed to us the
miserable privilege of having the rewards of our honesty, industry,
the fruits of those fields which they purchased and bled for,
wrested from us at the will of men over whom we have no check. Did
they contract for us that, with folded arms, we should expect that
justice and mercy from brutal and inflamed invaders which have been
denied to our supplications at the foot of the throne? Were we to
hear our character as a people ridiculed with indifference? Did they
promise for us that our meekness and patience should be insulted;
our coasts harassed, our towns demolished and plundered, and our
wives and offspring exposed to nakedness, hunger, and death, without
our feeling the resentment of men, and exerting those powers of
self-preservation which God has given us? No man had once a greater
veneration for Englishmen than I entertained. They were dear to me
as branches of the same parental trunk, and partakers of the same
religion and laws; I still view with respect the remains of the
constitution as I would a lifeless body, which had once been
animated by a great and heroic soul. But when I am aroused by the
din of arms; when I behold legions of foreign assassins, paid by
Englishmen to imbrue their hands in our blood; when I tread over the
uncoffined bodies of my countrymen, neighbors, and friends; when I
see the locks of a venerable father torn by savage hands, and a
feeble mother, clasping her infants to her bosom, and on her knees
imploring their lives from her own slaves, whom Englishmen have
allured to treachery and murder; when I behold my country, once the
seat of industry, peace, and plenty, changed by Englishmen to a
theatre of blood and misery, Heaven forgive me, if I cannot root out
those passions which it has implanted in my bosom, and detest
submission to a people who have either ceased to be human, or have
not virtue enough to feel their own wretchedness and servitude!
Men who content themselves with the semblance of truth, and a
display of words, talk much of our obligations to Great Britain for
protection. Had she a single eye to our advantage? A nation of
shopkeepers are very seldom so disinterested. Let us not be so
amused with words; the extension of her commerce was her object.
When she defended our coasts, she fought for her customers, and
convoyed our ships loaded with wealth, which we had acquired for her
by our industry. She has treated us as beasts of burthen, whom the
lordly masters cherish that they may carry a greater load. Let us
inquire also against whom she has protected us? Against her own
enemies with whom we had no quarrel, or only on her account, and
against whom we always readily exerted our wealth and strength when
they were required. Were these colonies backward in giving
assistance to Great Britain, when they were called upon in 1739 to
aid the expedition against Carthagena? They at that time sent three
thousand men to join the British army, although the war commenced
without their consent. But the last war, 'tis said, was purely
American. This is a vulgar error, which, like many others, has
gained credit by being confidently repeated. The dispute between
the courts of Great Britain and France related to the limits of
Canada and Nova Scotia. The controverted territory was not claimed
by any in the colonies, but by the crown of Great Britain. It was
therefore their own quarrel. The infringement of a right which
England had, by the treaty of Utrecht, of trading in the Indian
country of Ohio, was another cause of the war. The French seized
large quantities of British manufacture and took possession of a
fort which a company of British merchants and factors had erected
for the security of their commerce. The war was therefore waged in
defense of lands claimed by the crown, and for the protection of
British property. The French at that time had no quarrel with
America, and, as appears by letters sent from their commander-in-chief,
to some of the colonies, wished to remain in peace with us. The
part, therefore, which we then took, and the miseries to which we
exposed ourselves, ought to be charged to our affection to Britain.
These colonies granted more than their proportion to the support of
the war. They raised, clothed, and maintained nearly twenty-five
thousand men, and so sensible were the people of England of our
great exertions, that a message was annually sent to the House of
Commons purporting, "that his Majesty, being highly satisfied with
the zeal and vigor with which his faithful subjects in North America
had exerted themselves in defense of his Majesty's just rights and
possessions, recommend it to the House to take the same into
consideration, and enable him to give them a proper compensation."
But what purpose can arguments of this kind answer? Did the
protection we received annul our rights as men, and lay us under an
obligation of being miserable?
Who among you, my countrymen, that is a father, would claim
authority to make your child a slave because you had nourished him
in infancy?
'Tis a strange species of generosity which requires a return
infinitely more valuable than anything it could have bestowed that
demands as a reward for a defense of our property a surrender of
those inestimable privileges, to the arbitrary will of vindictive
tyrants, which alone give value to that very property.
Political right and public happiness are different words for the
same idea. They who wander into metaphysical labyrinths, or have
recourse to original contracts, to determine the rights of men,
either impose on themselves or mean to delude others. Public utility
is the only certain criterion. It is a test which brings disputes to
a speedy decision, and makes its appeal to the feelings of
mankind. The force of truth has obliged men to use arguments drawn
from this principle who were combating it, in practice and
speculation. The advocates for a despotic government and
nonresistance to the magistrate employ reasons in favor of their
systems drawn from a consideration of their tendency to promote
public happiness.
The Author of Nature directs all his operations to the production of
the greatest good, and has made human virtue to consist in a
disposition and conduct which tends to the common felicity of his
creatures. An abridgement of the natural freedom of men, by the
institutions of political societies, is vindicable only on this
foot. How absurd, then, is it to draw arguments from the nature of
civil society for the annihilation of those very ends which society
was intended to procure! Men associate for their mutual advantage.
Hence, the good and happiness of the members, that is, the majority
of the members, of any State, is the great standard by which
everything relating to that State must finally be determined; and
though it may be supposed that a body of people may be bound by a
voluntary resignation (which they have been so infatuated as to
make) of all their interests to a single person, or to a few, it can
never be conceived that the resignation is obligatory to their
posterity; because it is manifestly contrary to the good of the
whole that it should be so.
These are the sentiments of the wisest and most virtuous champions
of freedom. Attend to a portion on this subject from a book in our
own defense, written, I had almost said, by the pen of inspiration.
"I lay no stress," says he, "on charters; they derive their rights
from a higher source. It is inconsistent with common sense to
imagine that any people would ever think of settling in a distant
country on any such condition, or that the people from whom they
withdrew should forever be masters of their property, and have power
to subject them to any modes of government they pleased. And had
there been expressed stipulations to this purpose in all the
charters of the colonies, they would, in my opinion, be no more
bound by them, than if it had been stipulated with them that they
should go naked, or expose themselves to the incursions of wolves
and tigers."
Such are the opinions of every virtuous and enlightened patriot in
Great Britain. Their petition to heaven is, "That there may be one
free country left upon earth, to which they may fly, when venality,
luxury, and vice shall have completed the ruin of liberty there."
Courage, then, my countrymen, our contest is not only whether we
ourselves shall be free, but whether there shall be left to mankind
an asylum on earth for civil and religious liberty. Dismissing,
therefore, the justice of our cause, as incontestable, the only
question is, What is best for us to pursue in our present
circumstances?
The doctrine of dependence on Great Britain is, I believe, generally
exploded; but as I would attend to the honest weakness of the
simplest of men, you will pardon me if I offer a few words on that
subject.
We are now on this continent, to the astonishment of the world,
three millions of souls united in one cause. We have large armies,
well disciplined and appointed, with commanders inferior to none in
military skill, and superior in activity and zeal. We are furnished
with arsenals and stores beyond our most sanguine expectations, and
foreign nations are waiting to crown our success by their alliances.
There are instances of, I would say, an almost astonishing
Providence in our favor; our success has staggered our enemies, and
almost given faith to infidels; so we may truly say it is not our
own arm which has saved us.
The hand of heaven appears to have led us on to be, perhaps humble
instruments and means in the great Providential dispensation which
is completing. We have fled from the political Sodom; let us not
look back, lest we perish and become a monument of infamy and
derision to the world. For can we ever expect more unanimity and a
better preparation for defense; more infatuation of counsel among
our enemies, and more valor and zeal among ourselves? The same force
and resistance which are sufficient to procure us our liberties will
secure us a glorious independence and support us in the dignity of
free, imperial States. We cannot suppose that our opposition has
made a corrupt and dissipated nation more friendly to America, or
created in them a greater respect for the rights of mankind. We can
therefore expect a restoration and establishment of our privileges,
and a compensation for the injuries we have received from their want
of power, from their fears, and not from their virtues. The
unanimity and valor which will effect an honorable peace can render
a future contest for our liberties unnecessary. He who has strength
to chain down the wolf is a madman if he let him loose without
drawing his teeth and paring his nails.
From the day on which an accommodation takes place between England
and America, on any other terms than as independent States, I shall
date the ruin of this country. A politic minister will study to
lull us into security, by granting us the full extent of our
petitions. The warm sunshine of influence would melt down the
virtue, which the violence of the storm rendered more firm and
unyielding. In a state of tranquillity, wealth, and luxury, our
descendants would forget the arts of war and the noble activity and
zeal which made their ancestors invincible. Every art of corruption
would be employed to loosen the bond of union which renders our
resistance formidable. When the spirit of liberty which now
animates our hearts and gives success to our arms is extinct, our
numbers will accelerate our ruin and render us easier victims to
tyranny. Ye abandoned minions of an infatuated ministry, if
peradventure any should yet remain among us, remember that a Warren
and Montgomery are numbered among the dead. Contemplate the mangled
bodies of your countrymen, and then say, What should be the reward
of such sacrifices? Bid us and our posterity bow the knee,
supplicate the friendship, and plough, and sow, and reap, to glut
the avarice of the men who have let loose on us the dogs of war to
riot in our blood and hunt us from the face of the earth? If ye
love wealth better than liberty, the tranquillity of servitude than
the animating contest of freedom,--go from us in peace. We ask not
your counsels or arms. Crouch down and lick the hands which feed
you. May your chains sit lightly upon you, and may posterity forget
that ye were our countrymen!
To unite the supremacy of Great Britain and the liberty of America
is utterly impossible. So vast a continent, and of such a distance
from the seat of empire, will every day grow more unmanageable. The
motion of so unwieldy a body cannot be directed with any dispatch
and uniformity without committing to the Parliament of Great Britain
powers inconsistent with our freedom. The authority and force which
would be absolutely necessary for the preservation of the peace and
good order of this continent would put all our valuable rights
within the reach of that nation.
As the administration of government requires firmer and more
numerous supports in proportion to its extent, the burdens imposed
on us would be excessive, and we should have the melancholy prospect
of their increasing on our posterity. The scale of officers, from
the rapacious and needy commissioner to the haughty governor, and
from the governor, with his hungry train, to perhaps a licentious
and prodigal viceroy, must be upheld by you and your children. The
fleets and armies which will be employed to silence your murmurs and
complaints must be supported by the fruits of your industry.
And yet with all this enlargement of the expense and powers of
government, the administration of it at such a distance, and over so
extensive a territory, must necessarily fail of putting the laws
into vigorous execution, removing private oppressions, and forming
plans for the advancement of agriculture and commerce, and
preserving the vast empire in any tolerable peace and security. If
our posterity retain any spark of patriotism, they can never tamely
submit to such burthens. This country will be made the field of
bloody contention till it gain that independence for which nature
formed it. It is, therefore, injustice and cruelty to our
offspring, and would stamp us with the character of baseness and
cowardice, to leave the salvation of this country to be worked out
by them with accumulated difficulty and danger.
Prejudice, I confess, may warp our judgments. Let us hear the
decision of Englishmen on this subject, who cannot be suspected of
partiality. "The Americans," they say, "are but little short of half
our number. To this number they have grown from a small body of
original settlers by a very rapid increase. The probability is that
they will go on to increase, and that in fifty or sixty years they
will be double our number, and form a mighty empire, consisting of a
variety of States, all equal or superior to ourselves in all the
arts and accomplishments which give dignity and happiness to human
life. In that period will they be still bound to acknowledge that
supremacy over them which we now claim? Can there be any person who
will assert this, or whose mind does not revolt at the idea of a
vast continent holding all that is valuable to it at the discretion
of a handful of people on the other side of the Atlantic? But if at
that period this would be unreasonable, what makes it otherwise now?
Draw the line if you can. But there is still a greater difficulty."
Britain is now, I will suppose, the seat of liberty and virtue, and
its legislature consists of a body of able and independent men, who
govern with wisdom and justice. The time may come when all will be
reversed; when its excellent constitution of government will be
subverted; when, pressed by debts and taxes, it will be greedy to
draw to itself an increase of revenue from every distant province,
in order to ease its own burdens; when the influence of the crown,
strengthened by luxury and a universal profligacy of manners, will
have tainted every heart, broken down every fence of liberty, and
rendered us a nation of tame and contented vassals; when a general
election will be nothing but a general auction of boroughs, and when
the Parliament, the grand council of the nation, and once the
faithful guardian of the State, and a terror to evil ministers, will
be degenerated into a body of sycophants, dependent and venal,
always ready to confirm any measures, and little more than a public
court for registering royal edicts. Such, it is possible, may, some
time or other, be the state of Great Britain. What will, at that
period, be the duty of the colonies? Will they be still bound to
unconditional submission? Must they always continue an appendage to
our government and follow it implicitly through every change that
can happen to it? Wretched condition, indeed, of millions of
freemen as good as ourselves! Will you say that we now govern
equitably, and that there is no danger of such revolution? Would to
God that this were true! But you will not always say the same. Who
shall judge whether we govern equitably or not? Can you give the
colonies any security that such a period will never come? No. THE
PERIOD, COUNTRYMEN, IS ALREADY COME! The calamities were at our
door. The rod of oppression was raised over us. We were roused
from our slumbers, and may we never sink into repose until we can
convey a clear and undisputed inheritance to our posterity! This
day we are called upon to give a glorious example of what the wisest
and best of men were rejoiced to view, only in speculation. This
day presents the world with the most august spectacle that its
annals ever unfolded,--millions of freemen, deliberately and
voluntarily forming themselves into a society for their common
defense and common happiness. Immortal spirits of Hampden, Locke,
and Sidney, will it not add to your benevolent joys to behold your
posterity rising to the dignity of men, and evincing to the world
the reality and expediency of your systems, and in the actual
enjoyment of that equal liberty, which you were happy, when on
earth, in delineating and recommending to mankind?
Other nations have received their laws from conquerors; some are
indebted for a constitution to the suffering of their ancestors
through revolving centuries. The people of this country, alone, have
formally and deliberately chosen a government for themselves, and
with open and uninfluenced consent bound themselves into a social
compact. Here no man proclaims his birth or wealth as a title to
honorable distinction, or to sanctify ignorance and vice with the
name of hereditary authority. He who has most zeal and ability to
promote public felicity, let him be the servant of the public. This
is the only line of distinction drawn by nature. Leave the bird of
night to the obscurity for which nature intended him, and expect
only from the eagle to brush the clouds with his wings and look
boldly in the face of the sun.
Some who would persuade us that they have tender feelings for future
generations, while they are insensible to the happiness of the
present, are perpetually foreboding a train of dissensions under our
popular system. Such men's reasoning amounts to this: Give up all
that is valuable to Great Britain and then you will have no
inducements to quarrel among yourselves; or, suffer yourselves to be
chained down by your enemies that you may not be able to fight with
your friends.
This is an insult on your virtue as well as your common sense. Your
unanimity this day and through the course of the war is a decisive
refutation of such invidious predictions. Our enemies have already
had evidence that our present constitution contains in it the
justice and ardor of freedom and the wisdom and vigor of the most
absolute system. When the law is the will of the people, it will be
uniform and coherent; but fluctuation, contradiction, and
inconsistency of councils must be expected under those governments
where every revolution in the ministry of a court produces one in
the State--such being the folly and pride of all ministers, that
they ever pursue measures directly opposite to those of their
predecessors.
We shall neither be exposed to the necessary convulsions of elective
monarchies, nor to the want of wisdom, fortitude, and virtue, to
which hereditary succession is liable. In your hands it will be to
perpetuate a prudent, active, and just legislature, and which will
never expire until you yourselves loose the virtues which give it
existence.
And, brethren and fellow-countrymen, if it was ever granted to
mortals to trace the designs of Providence, and interpret its
manifestations in favor of their cause, we may, with humility of
soul, cry out, "Not unto us, not unto us, but to thy Name be the
praise!" The confusion of the devices among our enemies, and the
rage of the elements against them, have done almost as much towards
our success as either our councils or our arms.
The time at which this attempt on our liberty was made, when we were
ripened into maturity, had acquired a knowledge of war, and were
free from the incursions of enemies in this country; the gradual
advances of our oppressors enabling us to prepare for our defense;
the unusual fertility of our lands and clemency of the seasons; the
success which at first attended our feeble arms, producing unanimity
among our friends and reducing our internal foes to acquiescence--
these are all strong and palpable marks and assurances that
Providence is yet gracious unto Zion, that it will turn away the
captivity of Jacob.
Our glorious reformers when they broke through the fetters of
superstition effected more than could be expected from an age so
darkened. But they left much to be done by their posterity. They
lopped off, indeed, some of the branches of Popery, but they left
the root and stock when they left us under the domination of human
systems and decisions, usurping the infallibility which can be
attributed to Revelation alone. They dethroned one usurper only to
raise up another; they refused allegiance to the Pope only to place
the civil magistrate in the throne of Christ, vested with authority
to enact laws and inflict penalties in his kingdom. And if we now
cast our eyes over the nations of the earth, we shall find that,
instead of possessing the pure religion of the Gospel, they may be
divided either into infidels, who deny the truth; or politicians who
make religion a stalking horse for their ambition; or professors,
who walk in the trammels of orthodoxy, and are more attentive to
traditions and ordinances of men than to the oracles of truth.
The civil magistrate has everywhere contaminated religion by making
it an engine of policy; and freedom of thought and the right of
private judgment, in matters of conscience, driven from every other
corner of the earth, direct their course to this happy country as
their last asylum. Let us cherish the noble guests, and shelter them
under the wings of a universal toleration! Be this the seat of
unbounded religious freedom. She will bring with her in her train,
industry, wisdom, and commerce. She thrives most when left to shoot
forth in her natural luxuriance, and asks from human policy only not
to be checked in her growth by artificial encouragements.
Thus, by the beneficence of Providence, we shall behold our empire
arising, founded on justice and the voluntary consent of the people,
and giving full scope to the exercise of those faculties and rights
which most ennoble our species. Besides the advantages of liberty
and the most equal constitution, Heaven has given us a country with
every variety of climate and soil, pouring forth in abundance
whatever is necessary for the support, comfort, and strength of a
nation. Within our own borders we possess all the means of
sustenance, defense, and commerce; at the same time, these
advantages are so distributed among the different States of this
continent, as if nature had in view to proclaim to us: Be united
among yourselves and you will want nothing from the rest of the
world.
The more northern States most amply supply us with every necessary,
and many of the luxuries of life; with iron, timber, and masts for
ships of commerce or of war; with flax for the manufacture of linen,
and seed either for oil or exportation.
So abundant are our harvests, that almost every part raises more
than double the quantity of grain requisite for the support of the
inhabitants. From Georgia and the Carolinas we have, as well for our
own wants as for the purpose of supplying the wants of other powers,
indigo, rice, hemp, naval stores, and lumber.
Virginia and Maryland teem with wheat, Indian corn, and tobacco.
Every nation whose harvest is precarious, or whose lands yield not
those commodities which we cultivate, will gladly exchange their
superfluities and manufactures for ours.
We have already received many and large cargoes of clothing,
military stores, etc., from our commerce with foreign powers, and,
in spite of the efforts of the boasted navy of England, we shall
continue to profit by this connection.
The want of our naval stores has already increased the price of
these articles to a great height, especially in Britain. Without our
lumber, it will be impossible for those haughty islanders to convey
the products of the West Indies to their own ports; for a while they
may with difficulty effect it, but, without our assistance, their
resources soon must fail. Indeed, the West India Islands appear as
the necessary appendages to this our empire. They must owe their
support to it, and ere long, I doubt not, some of them will, from
necessity, wish to enjoy the benefit of our protection.
These natural advantages will enable us to remain independent of the
world, or make it the interest of European powers to court our
alliance, and aid in protecting us against the invasion of others.
What argument, therefore, do we want to show the equity of our
conduct; or motive of interest to recommend it to our prudence?
Nature points out the path, and our enemies have obliged us to
pursue it.
If there is any man so base or so weak as to prefer a dependence on
Great Britain to the dignity and happiness of living a member of a
free and independent nation, let me tell him that necessity now
demands what the generous principle of patriotism should have
dictated.
We have no other alternative than independence, or the most
ignominious and galling servitude. The legions of our enemies
thicken on our plains; desolation and death mark their bloody
career; whilst the mangled corpses of our countrymen seem to cry out
to us as a voice from heaven:--
"Will you permit our posterity to groan under the galling chains of
our murderers? Has our blood been expended in vain? Is the only
benefit which our constancy till death has obtained for our country,
that it should be sunk into a deeper and more ignominious vassalage?
Recollect who are the men that demand your submission, to whose
decrees you are invited to pay obedience. Men who, unmindful of
their relation to you as brethren; of your long implicit submission
to their laws; of the sacrifice which you and your forefathers made
of your natural advantages for commerce to their avarice; formed a
deliberate plan to wrest from you the small pittance of property
which they had permitted you to acquire. Remember that the men who
wish to rule over you are they who, in pursuit of this plan of
despotism, annulled the sacred contracts which they had made with
your ancestors; conveyed into your cities a mercenary soldiery to
compel you to submission by insult and murder; who called your
patience cowardice, your piety hypocrisy."
Countrymen, the men who now invite you to surrender your rights into
their hands are the men who have let loose the merciless savages to
riot in the blood of their brethren; who have dared to establish
Popery triumphant in our land; who have taught treachery to your
slaves, and courted them to assassinate your wives and children.
These are the men to whom we are exhorted to sacrifice the blessings
which Providence holds out to us; the happiness, the dignity, of
uncontrolled freedom and independence.
Let not your generous indignation be directed against any among us
who may advise so absurd and maddening a measure. Their number is
but few, and daily decreases; and the spirit which can render them
patient of slavery will render them contemptible enemies.
Our Union is now complete; our constitution composed, established,
and approved. You are now the guardians of your own liberties. We
may justly address you, as the _decemviri_ did the Romans, and say,
"Nothing that we propose can pass into a law without your consent.
Be yourselves, O Americans, the authors of those laws on which your
happiness depends."
You have now in the field armies sufficient to repel the whole force
of your enemies and their base and mercenary auxiliaries. The
hearts of your soldiers beat high with the spirit of freedom; they
are animated with the justice of their cause, and while they grasp
their swords can look up to Heaven for assistance. Your adversaries
are composed of wretches who laugh at the rights of humanity, who
turn religion into derision, and would, for higher wages, direct
their swords against their leaders or their country. Go on, then,
in your generous enterprise with gratitude to Heaven for past
success, and confidence of it in the future. For my own part, I ask
no greater blessing than to share with you the common danger and
common glory. If I have a wish dearer to my soul than that my ashes
may be mingled with those of a Warren and Montgomery, it is that
these American States may never cease to be free and independent.
AELRED
(1109-1166)
Saint Aelred, Ealred, or Ethelred. was abbot of the Cistercian
monastery at Rievaulx, Yorkshire, in the twelfth century. Thirty-two
of his sermons, collected and published by Richard Gibbon, remain as
examples of the pulpit eloquence of his age; but not very much is
remembered of Aelred himself except that he was virtuous enough to
be canonized, and was held in high estimation as a preacher during
the Middle Ages. He died in 1166.
His command of language is extraordinary, and he is remarkable for
the cumulative power with which he adds clause to clause and
sentence to sentence, in working towards a climax.
A FAREWELL
It is time that I should begin the journey to which the law of our
order compels me, desire incites me, and affection calls me. But
how, even for so short a time, can I be separated from my beloved
ones? Separated, I say, in body, and not in spirit; and I know that
in affection and spirit I shall be so much the more present by how
much in body I am the more absent. I speak after the manner of men
because of the infirmity of my flesh; my wish is, that I may lay
down among you the tabernacle of my flesh, that I may breathe forth
my spirit in your hands, that ye may close the eyes of your father,
and that all my bones should be buried in your sight! Pray,
therefore, O my beloved ones, that the Lord may grant me the desire
of my soul. Call to mind, dearest brethren, that it is written of
the Lord Jesus, when he was about to remove his presence from his
Disciples, that he, being assembled together with them, commanded
them that they should not depart from Jerusalem. Following,
therefore, his example, since, after our sweet banquet, we have now
risen from the table, I, who in a little while am about to go away,
command you, beseech you, warn you, not to depart from Jerusalem.
For Jerusalem signifies peace. Therefore, we commend peace to you,
we enjoin peace to you. Now, Christ himself, our Peace, who hath
united us, keep you in the unity of the spirit and in the bond of
peace; to whose protection and consolation I commend you under the
wings of the Holy Ghost; that he may return you to me, and me to you
in peace and with safety. Approach now, dearest sons, and in sign of
the peace and love which I have commended to you, kiss your father;
and let us all pray together that the Lord may make our way
prosperous, and grant us when we return to find you in the same
peace, who liveth and reigneth one God, through all ages of ages.
Amen.
A SERMON AFTER ABSENCE
Behold, I have returned, my beloved sons, my joy and my crown in the
Lord! Behold! I have returned after many labors, after a dangerous
journey; I am returned to you, I am returned to your love. This day
is the day of exultation and joy, which, when I was in a foreign
land, when I was struggling with the winds and with the sea, I so
long desired to behold; and the Lord hath heard the desire of the
poor. O love, how sweetly thou inflamest those that are absent!
How deliciously thou feedest those that are present; and yet dost
not satisfy the hungry till thou makest Jerusalem to have peace and
fillest it with the flour of wheat! This is the peace which, as you
remember, I commended to you when the law of our order compelled me
for a time to be separated from you; the peace which, now I have
returned, I find (Thanks be to God!) among you; the peace of Christ,
which, with a certain foretaste of love, feeds you in the way that
shall satisfy you with the plentitude of the same love in your
country. Well, beloved brethren, all that I am, all that I have,
all that I know, I offer to your profit, I devote to your advantage.
Use me as you will; spare not my labor if it can in any way serve to
your benefit. Let us return, therefore, if you please, or rather
because you please, to the work which we have intermitted; and let
us examine the Holy Ghost enduing us with the light of truth, the
heavenly treasures which holy Isaiah has laid up under the guise of
parables, when he writes that parable which the people, freed from
his tyranny, shall take up against the king of Babylon. "And it
shall come to pass in the day that the Lord shall give thee rest
from thy sorrow, and from thy fear, and from the hard bondage
wherein thou wast made to serve, that thou shalt take up this
parable against the king of Babylon." Let us, therefore, understand
the parable as a parable. Not imagining that it was spoken against
Nebuchadnezzar, the prince of that earthly Babylon, but rather
against him who is from the North, the prince of confusion. ... If
any one of us, then, who was once set in the confusion of vices, and
oppressed by the yoke of iniquity, now rejoices that he rests from
his labors, and is without confusion for that which is past, and has
cast off the yoke of that worst of slaveries, let him take up this
parable against the king of Babylon. There is labor in vice, there
is rest in virtue; there is confusion in lust, there is security in
chastity; there is servitude in covetousness, there is liberty in
charity. Now, there is a labor in vice, and labor for vice, and
labor against vice. A labor in vice, when, for the sake of
fulfilling our evil desires, the ancient enemy inflicts hard labor
upon us. There is a labor for vice, when any one is either
afflicted against his will, for the evil which he has done, or of
his will is troubled by the labor of penance. There is a labor
against vice, when he that is converted to God is troubled with
divers temptations. There is also a confusion in vice, when a man,
distracted by most evil passions, is not ruled by reason, but
hurried along confusedly by the tumult of vices; a confusion for
vice, when a man is found out and convicted of any crime, and is
therefore confounded, or when a man repenting and confessing what he
has done is purified by healthful confusion and confession; and
there is a confusion against vice, when a man, converted to God,
resists the temptation from which he suffers, by the recollection of
former confusion.
Wonder not if I have kept you longer to-day than my wont is, because
desirous of you, after so long a hunger, I could not be easily
satiated with your presence. Think not, indeed, that even now I am
satiated; I leave off speaking because I am weary, not because I am
satisfied. But I shall be satisfied when the glory of Christ shall
appear, in whom I now embrace you with delight, you, with whom I
hope that I shall be happily found in him, to whom is honor and
glory to ages of ages. Amen.
ON MANLINESS
Fortitude comes next, which is necessary in temptation, since
perfection of sanctity cannot be so uninterruptedly maintained in
this life that its serenity will be disturbed by no temptations. But
as our Lord God seems to us, in times when everything appears
peaceful and tranquil, to be merciful and loving and the giver of
joy, thus when he exposes us either to the temptations of the flesh,
or to the suggestions of demons, or when he afflicts us with the
troubles, or wears us out with the persecutions of this world, he
seems, as it were, a hard and angry master. And happy is he who
becomes valiant in this his anger, now resisting, now fighting, now
flying, so as to be found neither infirm through consenting, nor
weak through despairing. Therefore, brethren, whoever is not found
valiant in his anger cannot exult in his glory. If we have passed
through fire and water, so that neither did the fire consume us, nor
the water drown us, whose is the glory? Is it ours, so that we
should exult in it as if it belonged to us? God forbid! How many
exult, brethren, when they are praised by men, taking the glory of
the gifts of God as if it were their own and not exulting in the
honor of Christ, who, while they seek that which is their own and
not the things of Jesus Christ, both lose that which is their own
and do not gain that which is Christ's! He then exults in Christ's
glory, who seeks not his glory but Christ's, and he understands
that, in ourselves, there is nothing of which we can boast, since we
have nothing that is our own. And this is the way in which, in
individual men, the City of Confusion is overthrown, when chastity
expels luxury, fortitude overthrows temptations, humility excludes
vanity. Furthermore, we have sanctification from the faith and
sacraments of Christ, fortitude from the love of Christ, exultation
in the hope of the promises of Christ. Let us each do what we can,
that faith may sanctify us, love strengthen us, and hope make us
joyful in Christ Jesus our Lord, to whom be honor and glory forever
and forever. Amen.
AESCHINES (389-314 B.C.)
Professor R. C. Jebe says of Aeschines, the rival of Demosthenes for
supremacy at Athens, that when the Rhodians asked him to teach them
oratory, he replied that he did not know it himself. He took pride
in being looked upon as a representative of natural oratorical
genius who had had little help from the traditions of the schools.
"If, however, Aeschines was no rhetorical artist," writes Doctor
Jebb, "he brought to public speaking the twofold training of the
actor and the scribe. He had a magnificent voice under perfect
musical control. 'He compares me to the sirens,' says Aeschines of
his rival."
First known as an actor, playing "tritagonist" in the tragedies of
Sophocles and the other great Athenian dramatists, Aeschines was
afterwards clerk to one of the minor officials at Athens; then
secretary to Aristophon and Eubulos, well-known public men, and
later still secretary of the _ekklesia_ or assembly.
The greatest event of his life was his contest with Demosthenes 'De
Corona' (Over the Crown). When Ktesiphon proposed that Athens should
bestow a wreath of gold on Demosthenes for his public services,
Aechines, after the bill proposing it had come before the assembly,
challenged it and gave notice of his intention to proceed against
Ktesiphon for proposing an unconstitutional measure. One of the
allegations in support of its unconstitutionally was that "to record
a bill describing Demosthenes as a public benefactor was to deposit
a lying document among the public archives." The issues were thus
joined between Aeschines and Demosthenes for one of the most
celebrated forensic contests in history. Losing the case Aeschines
went into banishment. He died at Samos, B.C. 314, in his
seventy-fifth year. He is generally ranked next to Demosthenes among
Greek orators. For the following from the oration of Aeschines, the
reader is under obligations to Professor Jebb's admirable translation.
AGAINST CROWNING DEMOSTHENES (Against Ktesiphon)
Our days have not fallen on the common chances of mortal life. We
have been set to bequeath a story of marvels to posterity. Is not
the king of Persia, he who cut through Athos, and bridged the
Hellespont, he who demands earth and water from the Greeks, he who
in his letters presumes to style himself lord of all men from the
sunrise to the sunset, is he not struggling at this hour, no longer
for authority over others, but for his own life? Do you not see the
men who delivered the Delphian temple invested not only with that
glory but with the leadership against Persia? While Thebes--
Thebes, our neighbor city--has been in one day swept from the face
of Greece--justly it may be in so far as her general policy was
erroneous, yet in consequence of a folly which was no accident, but
the judgment of heaven. The unfortunate Lacedaemonians, though they
did but touch this affair in its first phase by the occupation of
the temple,--they who once claimed the leadership of Greece,--
are now to be sent to Alexander in Asia to give hostages, to parade
their disasters, and to hear their own and their country's doom from
his lips, when they have been judged by the clemency of the master
they provoked. Our city, the common asylum of the Greeks, from
which, of old, embassies used to come from all Greece to obtain
deliverance for their several cities at our hands, is now battling,
no more for the leadership of Greece, but for the ground on which it
stands. And these things have befallen us since Demosthenes took
the direction of our policy. The poet Hesiod will interpret such a
case. There is a passage meant to educate democracies and to
counsel cities generally, in which he warns us not to accept
dishonest leaders. I will recite the lines myself, the reason, I
think, for our learning the maxims of the poets in boyhood being
that we may use them as men:--
"Oft hath the bad man been the city's bane;
Oft hath his sin brought to the sinless pain:
Oft hath all-seeing Heaven sore vexed the town
With dearth and death and brought the people down;
Cast down their walls and their most valiant slain,
And on the seas made all their navies vain!"
Strip these lines of their poetic garb, look at them closely, and I
think you will say these are no mere verses of Hesiod--that they are
a prophecy of the administration of Demosthenes, for by the agency
of that administration our ships, our armies, our cities have been
swept from the earth. ... "O yes," it will be replied, "but then he
is a friend of the constitution." If, indeed, you have a regard
only to his delicacy you will be deceived as you were before, but
not if you look at his character and at the facts. I will help you
to estimate the characteristics which ought to be found in a friend
of the constitution; in a sober-minded citizen. I will oppose to
them the character that may be looked for in an unprincipled
revolutionist. Then you shall draw your comparison and consider on
which part he stands--not in his language, remember, but in his
life. Now all, I think, will allow that these attributes should
belong to a friend of the constitution: First, that he should be of
free descent by both parents so that the disadvantage of birth may
not embitter him against those laws which preserve the democracy.
Second, that he should be able to show that some benefit has been
done to the people by his ancestors; or, at the worst, that there
had been no enmity between them which would prompt him to revenge
the misfortunes of his fathers on the State. Third, he should be
virtuous and temperate in his private life, so that no profligate
expense may lead him into taking bribes to the hurt of the people.
Next, he should be sagacious and able to speak--since our ideal is
that the best course should be chosen by the intelligence and then
commended to his hearers by the trained eloquence of the orator,
--though, if we cannot have both, sagacity must needs take rank
before eloquence. Lastly, he must have a stout heart or he may play
the country false in the crisis of danger or of war. The friend of
oligarchy must be the opposite of all this. I need not repeat the
points. Now, consider: How does Demosthenes answer to these
conditions?
[After accusing Demosthenes of being by parentage half a Scythian,
Greek in nothing but language, the orator proceeds: ]--
In his private life, what is he? The tetrarch sank to rise a
pettifogger, a spendthrift, ruined by his own follies. Then having
got a bad name in this trade, too, by showing his speeches to the
other side, he bounded on the stage of public life, where his
profits out of the city were as enormous as his savings were small.
Now, however, the flood of royal gold has floated his extravagance.
But not even this will suffice. No wealth could ever hold out long
against vice. In a word, he draws his livelihood not from his own
resources but from your dangers. What, however, are his
qualifications in respect to sagacity and to power of speech? A
clever speaker, an evil liver! And what is the result to Athens?
The speeches are fair; the deeds are vile! Then as to courage I
have a word to say. If he denied his cowardice or if you were not
aware of it, the topic might have called for discussion, but since
he himself admits in the assemblies and you know it, it remains only
to remind you of the laws on the subject. Solon, our ancient
lawgiver, thought the coward should be liable to the same penalties
as the man who refuses to serve or who has quitted his post.
Cowardice, like other offenses, is indictable.
Some of you will, perhaps, ask in amazement: Is a man to be indicted
for his temperament? He is. And why? In order that every one of
us fearing the penalties of the law more than the enemy may be the
better champion of his country. Accordingly, the lawgiver excludes
alike the man who declines service, the coward, and the deserter of
his post, from the lustral limits in the market place, and suffers
no such person to receive a wreath of honor or to enter places of
public worship. But you, Ktesiphon, exhort us to set a crown on the
head to which the laws refuse it. You by your private edict call a
forbidden guest into the forefront of our solemn festival, and
invite into the temple of Dionysos that dastard by whom all temples
have been betrayed. ... Remember then, Athenians, that the city
whose fate rests with you is no alien city, but your own. Give the
prizes of ambition by merit, not by chance. Reserve your rewards
for those whose manhood is truer, whose characters are worthier.
Look at each other and judge not only with your ears but with your
eyes who of your number are likely to support Demosthenes. His
young companions in the chase or the gymnasium? No, by the Olympian
Zeus! He has not spent his life in hunting or in any healthful
exercise, but in cultivating rhetoric to be used against men of
property. Think of his boastfulness when he claims by his embassy
to have snatched Byzantium out of the hands of Philip, to have
thrown the Acharnians into revolt, to have astonished the Thebans
with his harangue! He thinks that you have reached the point of
fatuity at which you can be made to believe even this--as if your
citizen were the deity of persuasion instead of a pettifogging
mortal! And when at the end of his speech, he calls as his
advocates those who shared his bribes, imagine that you see upon
this platform where I now speak before you, an array drawn up to
confront their profligacy--the benefactors of Athens: Solon, who set
in order the Democracy by his glorious laws, the philosopher, the
good legislator, entreating you with the gravity which so well
became him never to set the rhetoric of Demosthenes above your oaths
and above the laws; Aristides, who assessed the tribute of the
Confederacy, and whose daughters after his death were dowered by the
State--indignant at the contumely threatened to justice and
asking: Are you not ashamed? When Arthmios of Zeleia brought
Persian gold to Greece and visited Athens, our fathers well-nigh put
him to death, though he was our public guest, and proclaimed him
expelled from Athens and from all territory that the Athenians rule;
while Demosthenes, who has not brought us Persian gold but has taken
bribes for himself and has kept them to this day, is about to
receive a golden wreath from you! And Themistokles, and they who
died at Marathon and Plataea, aye, and the very graves of our
forefathers--do you not think they will utter a voice of
lamentation, if he who covenants with barbarians to work against
Greece shall be--crowned!
FREDERICK A. AIKEN (1810-1878)
In defending the unpopular cause of the British soldiers who were
engaged in the Boston Massacre, John Adams said:--
"May it please your honor and you, gentlemen of the jury, I am for
the prisoner at the bar, and shall apologize for it only in the
words of the Marquis of Beccaria: 'If I can but be the instrument of
preserving one life, his blessings and tears of transport shall be a
sufficient compensation to me for the contempt of all mankind.'"
Something of the same idea inspires the fine opening of Aiken's
defense of Mrs. Surratt. It lacks the sinewy assertiveness of
Adams's terse and almost defiant apology for doing his duty as a
lawyer in spite of public opinion, but it justifies itself and the
plea it introduces.
Until within the recent past, political antagonisms have been too
strong to allow fair consideration for such orations as that of
Aiken at the Surratt trial. But this is no longer the case. It can
now be considered on its merits as an oration, without the
assumption that it is necessary in connection with it to pass on the
evidence behind it.
The assassins of President Lincoln were tried by military commission
under the War Department's order of May 6th, 1865. The prosecution
was conducted by Brigadier-General Joseph Holt, as judge
advocate-general, with Brevet-Colonel H. L. Burnett, of Indiana, and
Hon. John A. Bingham, of Ohio, assisting him. The attorneys for the
defense were Reverdy Johnson, of Maryland; Thomas Ewing, of Kansas;
W. E. Doster, of Pennsylvania; Frederick A. Aiken, of the District
of Columbia; Walter S. Cox, John W. Clampit, and F. Stone, of
Maryland. The fault of the Adams oration in the case of the Boston
Massacre is one of excessive severity of logic. Aiken errs in the
direction of excessive ornament, but, considering the importance of
the occasion and the great stress on all engaged in the trial as
well as on the public, the florid style may have served better than
the force of severe logic could have done.
DEFENSE OF MRS. MARY E. SURRATT
For the lawyer as well as the soldier, there is an equally pleasant
duty--an equally imperative command. That duty is to shelter the
innocent from injustice and wrong, to protect the weak from
oppression, and to rally at all times and all occasions, when
necessity demands it, to the special defense of those whom nature,
custom, or circumstance may have placed in dependence upon our
strength, honor, and cherishing regard. That command emanates and
reaches each class from the same authoritative and omnipotent
source. It comes from a superior whose right to command none dare
question, and none dare disobey. In this command there is nothing of
that _lex_ _talionis_ which nearly two thousand years ago nailed to the
cross its Divine Author.
"Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you,
do ye even so unto them; for this is the law and the prophets."
God has not only given us life, but he has filled the world with
everything to make life desirable; and when we sit down to determine
the taking away of that which we did not give, and which, when
taken away, we cannot restore, we consider a subject the most solemn
and momentous within the range of human thought and human action.
Profoundly impressed with the innocence of our client, we enter upon
the last duty in her case with the heartfelt prayer that her
honorable judges may enjoy the satisfaction of not having a single
doubt left on their minds in granting her an acquittal, either as to
the testimony affecting her, or by the surrounding circumstances of
the case.
The first point that naturally arises in the presentation of the
defense of our client is that which concerns the plea that has been
made to the jurisdiction of the commission to try her--a plea
which by no means implies anything against the intelligence,
fairness, or integrity of the brilliant and distinguished officers
who compose the court, but merely touches the question of the right
of this tribunal, under the authority by which it is convoked. This
branch of her case is left to depend upon the argument already
submitted by her senior counsel, the _grande_ _decus_ _columenque_
of his profession, and which is exhaustive of the subject on which
it treats. Therefore, in proceeding to the discussion of the merits
of the case against her, the jurisdiction of the court, for the sake
of argument, may be taken as conceded.
But, if it be granted that the jurisdiction is complete, the next
preliminary inquiry naturally is as to the principles of evidence by
which the great mass of accumulated facts is to be analyzed and
weighed in the scales of justice and made to bias the minds of her
judges; and it may be here laid down as a _concessum_ in the case,
that we are here in this forum, constrained and concluded by the
same process, in this regard, that would bind and control us in any
other court of civil origin having jurisdiction over a crime such as
is here charged. For it is asserted in all the books that
court-martial must proceed, so far as the acceptance and the
analysis of evidence is concerned, upon precisely those reasonable
rules of evidence which time and experience, _ab_ _antiquo_, surviving
many ages of judicial wisdom, have unalterably fixed as unerring
guides in the administration of the criminal law. Upon this conceded
proposition it is necessary to consume time by the multiplication of
references. We are content with two brief citations from works of
acknowledged authority.
In Greenleaf it is laid down:--
"That courts-martial are bound, in general, to observe the rules of
the law of evidence by which the courts of criminal jurisdiction are
governed." (3 Greenleaf, section 467.)
This covers all the great general principles of evidence, the points
of difference being wholly as to minor matters. And it is also
affirmed in Benet:--
"That it has been laid down as an indisputable principle, that
whenever a legislative act erects a new jurisdiction, without
prescribing any particular rules of evidence to it, the common law
will supply its own rules, from which it will not allow such
newly-erected court to depart. The rules of evidence, then, that
obtain in the criminal courts of the country must be the guides for
the courts-martial; the end sought for being the truth, these rules
laid down for the attainment of that end must be intrinsically the
same in both cases. These rules constitute the law of evidence, and
involve the quality, admissibility, and effect of evidence and its
application to the purposes of truth." (Benet, pp. 226, 327.)
Therefore, all the facts that tend against the accused, and all
those that mate for her, are to be weighed and are to operate upon
her conviction or acquittal precisely as they would in a court of
law. If they present a case such as would there convict her she may
be found guilty here; and if, on the other hand, the rules of law
upon these facts would raise any presumption or create any doubt, or
force any conclusions that would acquit her in a court of law, then
she must be discharged, upon the same principles by the commission.
This is a point which, in our judgment, we cannot too strongly
impress upon the minds of her judges. The extraordinary character
of the crime--the assassination that removed from us the President
of the United States--makes it most desirable that the findings of
this tribunal shall be so well founded in reason as to satisfy and
secure public confidence, and approval; for many of the most
material objects of the prosecution, and some of the most important
ends of justice, will be defeated and frustrated if convictions and
acquittals, and more especially the former, shall be adjudged upon
the grounds that are notoriously insufficient.
Such a course of action would have a tendency to draw sympathy and
support to the parties thus adjudged guilty, and would rob the
result of this investigation of the wholesome support of
professional and public opinion. The jurisdiction of the
commission, for example, is a matter that has already provoked
considerable criticism and much warm disapproval; but in the case of
persons clearly found to be guilty, the public mind would easily
overlook any doubts that might exist as to the regularity of the
court in the just sentence that would overtake acknowledged
criminals. Thus, if Booth himself and a party of men clearly
proved, by ocular evidence or confession, to have aided him, were
here tried and condemned, and, as a consequence, executed, not much
stress, we think, would be laid by many upon the irregularity of the
mode by which they should reach that just death which all good
citizens would affirm to be their deserts. But the case is far
different when it affects persons who are only suspected, or against
whom the evidence is weak and imperfect; for, if citizens may be
arraigned and convicted for so grievous an offense as this upon
insufficient evidence, every one will feel his own personal safety
involved, and the tendency would be to intensify public feelings
against the whole process of the trial. It would be felt and argued
that they had been condemned upon evidence that would not have
convicted them in a civil court, and that they had been deprived,
therefore, of the advantage, which they would have had for their
defense. Reproach and contumely upon the government would be the
natural result, and the first occasion would arise in all history
for such demonstrations as would be sure to follow the condemnation
of mere citizens, and particularly of a woman, upon evidence on
which an acquittal would follow in a civil court. It is, therefore,
not only a matter of the highest concern to the accused themselves,
as a question of personal and private right, but also of great
importance upon considerations of general public utility and policy,
that the results of this trial, as affecting each of the accused,
among them Mrs. Surratt, shall be rigidly held within the bounds and
limitations that would control in the premises, if the parties were
on trial in a civil court upon an indictment equivalent to the
charges and specifications here. Conceding, as we have said, the
jurisdiction for the purpose of this branch of the argument, we hold
to the principle first enunciated as the one great, all-important,
and controlling rule that is to guide the commission in the findings
they are now about to make. In order to apply this principle to the
case of our client, we do not propose to range through the general
rules of evidence with a view to seeing how they square with the
facts as proven against her. In the examination of the evidence in
detail, many of these must from necessity be briefly alluded to; but
there is only one of them to which we propose in this place to
advert specifically, and that is the principle that may be justly
said to lie at the foundation of all the criminal law--a principle
so just, that it seems to have sprung from the brain of Wisdom
herself, and so undoubted and universal as to stand upon the
recognition of all the times and all the mighty intellects through
and by which the common law has been built up. We allude, of
course, to that principle which declares that "every man is held to
be innocent until he shall be proven guilty"--a principle so
natural that it has fastened itself upon the common reason of
mankind, and been immemorially adopted as a cardinal doctrine in all
courts of justice worthy of the name. It is by reason of this great
underlying legal tenet that we are in possession of the rule of law,
administered by all the courts, which, in mere technical expression,
may be termed "the presumption of innocence in favor of the accused."
And it is from hence that we derive that further application of the
general principle, which has also become a rule of law, and of
universal application wherever the common law is respected (and with
which we have more particularly to deal), by which it is affirmed,
in common language, that in any prosecution for crime "the accused
must be acquitted where there is a reasonable doubt of his guilt."
We hardly think it necessary to adduce authorities for this position
before any tribunal. In a civil court we certainly should waive the
citations, for the principle as stated would be assumed by any civil
judge and would, indeed, be the starting point for any investigation
whatever. Though a maxim so common and conceded, it is fortified by
the authority of all the great lights of the law. Before reference
is made to them, however, we wish to impress upon the minds of the
court another and important rule to which we shall have occasion to
refer:--
"The evidence in support of a conspiracy is generally
circumstantial" (Russell on Crimes, Vol. ii., 698.)
In regard to circumstantial evidence, all the best and ablest
writers, ancient and modern, agree in treating it as wholly inferior
in cogency, force, and effect, to direct evidence. And now for the
rule that must guide the jury in all cases of reasonable doubt:--
"If evidence leave reasonable ground for doubt, the conclusion
cannot be morally certain, however great may be the preponderance of
probability in its favor." (Wills on Circumstantial Evidence. Law
Library, Vol. xli.)
"The burden of proof in every criminal case is on the government to
prove all the material allegations in the indictment; and if, on the
whole evidence, the jury have a reasonable doubt whether the
defendant is guilty of the crime charged, they are bound to acquit
him. If the evidence lead to a reasonable doubt, that doubt will
avail in favor of the prisoner." (1 Greenleaf, section 34--Note.)
Perhaps one of the best and clearest definitions of the meaning of a
"reasonable doubt" is found in an opinion given in Dr. Webster's
case by the learned and accurate Chief-Justice of Massachusetts. He
said;--
"The evidence must establish the truth of the fact to a reasonable
and moral certainty; a certainty that convinces and directs the
understanding and satisfies the reason and judgment of those who are
bound to act conscientiously upon it." (Commonwealth versus
Webster, 5 Cush., 320.)
Far back in the early history of English jurisprudence we find that
it was considered a most serious abuse of the common law, "that
justices and their officers, who kill people by false judgment, be
not destroyed as other murderers, which King Alfred caused to be
done, who caused forty-four justices in one year to be hanged for
their false judgment. He hanged Freburne because he judged Harpin to
die, whereas the jury were in doubt of their verdict; for in
doubtful cases we ought rather to save than to condemn."
The spirit of the Roman law partook of the same care and caution in
the condemnation of those charged with crime. The maxim was:--
"_Satius_ _est_ _impunitum_ _relinqui_ _facinus_ _nocentis_, _quam_
_innocentem_ _damnare_."
That there may be no mistake concerning the fact that this
commission is bound as a jury by these rules, the same as juries in
civil courts, we again quote from Benet:--
"It is in the province of the court (court-martial) to decide all
questions on the admissibility of evidence. Whether there is any
evidence is a question for the court as judges, but whether the
evidence is sufficient is a question for the court as jury to
determine, and this rule applies to the admissibility of every kind
of evidence, written as well as oral." (Benet, pp. 225, 226.)
These citations may be indefinitely multiplied, for this principle
is as true in the law as any physical fact in the exact sciences.
It is not contended, indeed, that any degree of doubt must be of a
reasonable nature, so as to overset the moral evidence of guilt.
A mere possibility of innocence will not suffice, for, upon human
testimony, no case is free from possible innocence. Even the more
direct evidence of crime may be possibly mistaken. But the doubt
required by the law must be consonant with reason and of such a
nature that in analogous circumstances it would affect the action of
a reasonable creature concerning his own affairs. We may make the
nature of such a doubt clearer to the court by alluding to a very
common rule in the application of the general principle in certain
cases, and the rule will readily appeal to the judgment of the court
as a remarkable and singularly beautiful example of the inexorable
logic with which the law applies its own unfailing reason.
Thus, in case of conspiracy, and some others, where many persons are
charged with joint crime, and where the evidence against most of
them must, of necessity, be circumstantial, the plea of "reasonable
doubt" becomes peculiarly valuable to the separate accused, and the
mode in which it is held it can best be applied is the test whether
the facts as proved, circumstantial, as supposed, can be made to
consist just as reasonably with a theory that is essentially
different from the theory of guilt.
If, therefore, in the developments of the whole facts of a
conspiracy, all the particular facts against a particular person can
be taken apart and shown to support a reasonable theory that
excludes the theory of guilt, it cannot be denied that the moral
proof of the latter is so shaken as to admit the rule concerning the
presumption of innocence. For surely no man should be made to
suffer because certain facts are proved against him, which are
consistent with guilt, when it can be shown that they are also, and
more reasonably, consistent with innocence. And, as touching the
conspiracy here charged, we suppose there are hundreds of innocent
persons, acquaintances of the actual assassin, against whom, on the
social rule of _noscitur_ _a_ _sociis_, mercifully set aside in law,
many facts might be elicited that would corroborate a suspicion of
participation in his crime; but it would be monstrous that they
should suffer from that theory when the same facts are rationally
explainable on other theories.
The distinguished assistant judge advocate, Mr. Bingham, who has
brought to the aid of the prosecution, in this trial, such ready and
trenchant astuteness in the law, has laid the following down as an
invariable rule, and it will pass into the books as such:--
"A party who conspires to do a crime may approach the most upright
man in the world with whom he had been, before the criminality was
known to the world, on terms of intimacy, and whose position in the
world was such that he might be on terms of intimacy with reputable
gentlemen. It is the misfortune of a man that is approached in that
way; it is not his crime, and it is not colorably his crime either."
This rule of construction, we humbly submit, in connection with the
question of doubt, has a direct and most weighty bearing upon the
case of our client. Some indication of the mode in which we propose
to apply it may be properly stated here. Now, in all the evidence,
there is not a shadow of direct and positive proof which connects
Mrs. Surratt with a participation in this conspiracy alleged, or
with any knowledge of it. Indeed, considering the active part she is
charged with taking, and the natural communicativeness of her sex,
the case is most singularly and wonderfully barren of even
circumstantial facts concerning her. But all there is, is
circumstantial. Nothing is proved against her except some few
detached facts and circumstances lying around the outer circle of
the alleged conspiracy, and by no means necessarily connected with
guilty intent or guilty knowledge.
It becomes our duty to see:--
1. What these facts are.
2. The character of the evidence in support of them, and of the
witnesses by whom they are said to be proven. And,
3. Whether they are consistent with a reasonable theory by which
guilt is excluded.
We assume, of course, as a matter that does not require argument,
that she has committed no crime at all, even if these facts be
proved, unless there is the necessary express or implied criminal
intent, for guilty knowledge and guilty intent are the constituent
elements, the principles of all crime. The intent and malice, too,
in her case, must be express, for the facts proved against her,
taken in themselves, are entirely and perfectly innocent, and are
not such as give rise to a necessary implication of malice. This
will not be denied. Thus, when one commits a violent homicide, the
law will presume the requisite malice; but when one only delivers a
message, which is an innocent act in itself, the guilty knowledge,
malice, and intent, that are absolutely necessary to make it criminal,
must be expressly proven before any criminal consequences can attach
to it. And, to quote:--
"Knowledge and intent, when material, must be shown by the
prosecutor." (Wharton's American Criminal Law, section 631.)
The intent to do a criminal act as defined by Bouvier implies and
means a preconceived purpose and resolve and determination to commit
the crime alleged. To quote again:--
"But the intent or guilty knowledge must be brought directly home to
the defendant." (Wharton's American Criminal Law, 635)
"When an act, in itself indifferent, becomes criminal, if done with
a particular intent, then the intent must be proved and found," (3
Greenleaf, section 13.)
In the light of these principles, let us examine the evidence as it
affects Mrs. Surratt. 1. What are the acts she has done? The
specification against her, in the general charge, is as follows;--
"And in further prosecution of the said conspiracy, Mary E. Surratt
did, at Washington City, and within the military department and
military lines aforesaid, on or before the sixth day of March,
A.D. 1865, and on divers other days and times between that day and
the twentieth of April, A.D. 1865, receive and entertain, harbor
and conceal, aid and assist, the said John Wilkes Booth, David
E. Herold, Lewis Payne, John H. Surratt, Michael O'Laughlin, George
A. Atzerodt, Samuel Arnold, and their confederates, with knowledge
of the murderous and traitorous conspiracy aforesaid, and with
intent to aid, abet, and assist them in the execution thereof, and
in escaping from justice after the murder of the said Abraham
Lincoln, as aforesaid."
The first striking fact proved is her acquaintance with John Wilkes
Booth--that he was an occasional visitor at her house. From the
evidence, if it can be relied on, it distinctly appears that this
acquaintance commenced the latter part of January, in the vicinage
of three months only before the assassination of the President, and,
with slight interruptions, it was continued down to the day of the
assassination of the President. Whether he was first invited to the
house and introduced to the family by Weichmann, John H. Surratt, or
some other person, the evidence does not disclose. When asked by the
judge advocate, "Whom did he call to see," the witness, Weichmann,
responded, "He generally called for Mr. Surratt--John H. Surratt--
and, in the absence of John H. Surratt, he would call for
Mrs. Surratt."
Before calling the attention of the commission to the next evidence
of importance against Mrs. Surratt, we desire to refresh the
recollection of the court as to the time and manner, and by whom,
according to the testimony of Lloyd, the carbines were first brought
to his (Lloyd's) house.
From the official record the following is taken:--
Question.--Will you state whether or not some five or six weeks
before the assassination of the President, any or all of these men
about whom I have inquired came to your house?
Answer.--They were there.
Q.--All three together?
A.--Yes; John H. Surratt, Herold, and Atzerodt were there together.
Q.--What did they bring to your house, and what did they do there?
A.--When they drove up there in the morning, John H. Surratt and
Atzerodt came first; they went from my house and went toward T. B.,
a post office kept about five miles below there. They had not been
gone more than half an hour when they returned with Herold; then the
three were together--Herold, Surratt, and Atzerodt.
Q.--What did they bring to your house?
A.--I saw nothing until they all three came into the bar-room, I
noticed one of the buggies--the one I supposed Herold was driving
or went down in--standing at the front gate. All three of them,
when they came into the bar-room, drank, I think, and then John
Surratt called me into the front parlor, and on the sofa were two
carbines, with ammunition. I think he told me they were carbines.
Q,--Anything besides the carbines and ammunition?
A,--There was also a rope and a monkey-wrench.
Q.--How long a rope?
A.--I cannot tell. It was a coil--a right smart bundle--probably
sixteen to twenty feet.
Q.--Were those articles left at your house?
A.--Yes, sir; Surratt asked me to take care of them, to conceal the
carbines. I told him that there was no place to conceal them, and I
did not wish to keep such things in the house.
Q.--You say that he asked you to conceal those articles for him?
A.--Yes, sir; he asked me to conceal them. I told him there was no
place to conceal them. He then carried me into a room that I had
never been in, which was just immediately above the store room, as
it were, in the back building of the house. I had never been in that
room previous to that time. He showed me where I could put them,
underneath the joists of the house--the joists of the second floor
of the main building. This little unfinished room will admit of
anything between the joists.
Q.--Were they put in that place?
A.--They were put in there according to his directions.
Q.--Were they concealed in that condition?
A.--Yes, sir: I put them in there. I stated to Colonel Wells
through mistake that Surratt put them there; but I put them in there
myself, I carried the arms up myself.
Q.--How much ammunition was there?
A.--One cartridge box.
Q.--For what purpose, and for how long, did he ask you to keep
these articles?
A.--I am very positive that he said that he would call for them in
a few days. He said that he just wanted them to stay for a few days
and he would call for them.
It also appears in evidence against Mrs. Surratt, if the testimony
is to be relied on, that on the Tuesday previous to the murder of
the President, the eleventh of April, she met John M. Lloyd, a
witness for the prosecution, at Uniontown, when, the following took
place:--
Question by the judge advocate:--Did she say anything to you in
regard to those carbines?
Answer.--When she first broached the subject to me, I did not know
what she had reference to; then she came out plainer, and I am quite
positive she asked me about the "shooting irons." I am quite
positive about that, but not altogether positive. I think she named
"shooting irons" or something to call my attention to those things,
for I had almost forgot about their being there. I told her that
they were hid away far back--that I was afraid that the house
would be searched, and they were shoved far back. She told me to get
them out ready; they would be wanted soon.
Q.--Was her question to you first, whether they were still there,
or what was it?
A.--Really, I cannot recollect the first question she put to me. I
could not do it to save my life.
On the afternoon of the fourteenth of April, at about half-past five
Lloyd again met Mrs. Surratt, at Surrattsville, at which time,
according to his version, she met him by the woodpile near the house
and told him to have those shooting irons ready that night as there
would be some parties calling for them, and that she gave him
something wrapped in a piece of paper, and asked him to get two
bottles of whisky ready also. This mesage to Mr. Lloyd is the
second item of importance against Mrs. Surratt, and in support of
the specification against her. The third and last fact that makes
against her in the minds of the court is the one narrated by Major
H. W. Smith, a witness for the prosecution, who states that while at
the house of Mrs. Surratt, on the night of the seventeenth of April,
assisting in making arrest of its inmates, the prisoner, Payne, came
in. He (Smith) stepped to the door of the parlor and said,
"Mrs. Surratt, will you step here a minute?" As Mrs. Surratt came
forward, he asked her this question, "Do you know this man?" She
replied, quoting the witness's language, "Before God, sir, I do not
know this man, and I have never seen him." An addition to this is
found in the testimony of the same witness, as he was drawn out by
the judge advocate. The witness repeats the language of
Mrs. Surratt, "Before God, sir, I do not know this man, and I have
never seen him, and did not hire him to dig a gutter for me." The
fact of the photographs and card of the State arms of Virginia have
ceased to be of the slightest importance, since the explanations
given in evidence concerning them, and need not be alluded to. If
there is any doubt as to whom they all belonged, reference to the
testimony of Misses Surratt and Fitzpatrick will settle it.
These three circumstances constitute the part played by the accused,
Mary E. Surratt, in this great conspiracy. They are the acts she
has done. They are all that two months of patient and unwearying
investigation, and the most thorough search for evidence that was
probably ever made, have been able to develop against her. The
acquaintance with Booth, the message to Lloyd, the nonrecognition of
Payne, constitute the sum total of her receiving, entertaining,
harboring and concealing, aiding and assisting those named as
conspirators and their confederates, with knowledge of the murderous
and traitorous conspiracy; and with intent to aid, abet, and assist
them in the execution thereof, and in escaping from justice. The
acts she has done, in and of themselves are perfectly innocent. Of
themselves they constitute no crime. They are what you or I or any
of us might have done. She received and entertained Booth, the
assassin, and so did a hundred others. She may have delivered a
message to Lloyd--so have a hundred others. She might have said
she did not know Payne--and who within the sound of my voice can
say they know him now? They are ordinary and commonplace
transactions, such as occur every day and to almost everybody. But
as all the case against her must consist in the guilty intent that
will be attempted to be connected with these facts, we now propose
to show that they are not so clearly proven as to free them from
great doubt, and, therefore, we will inquire:--
2. How are these acts proven? Solely by the testimony of Louis
J. Weichmann and John M. Lloyd. Here let us state that we have no
malice toward either of them, but if in the analysis of their
evidence we should seem to be severe, it is that error and duplicity
may be exposed and innocence protected.
We may start out with the proposition that a body of men banded
together for the consummation of an unlawful act against the
government, naturally would not disclose their purpose and hold
suspicious consultations concerning it in the presence continually
of an innocent party. In the light of this fair presumption let us
look at the acts of Weichmann, as disclosed by his own testimony.
Perhaps the most singular and astonishing fact that is made to
appear is his omnipresence and co-action with those declared to be
conspirators, and his professed and declared knowledge of all their
plans and purposes. His acquaintance with John H. Surratt commenced
in the fall of 1859, at St. Charles, Maryland. In January 1863 he
renewed his acquaintance with him in this city. On the first of
November, 1864, he took board and lodging with Mrs. Surratt at her
house, No. 541 H. Street, in this city. If this testimony is
correct, he was introduced to Booth on the fifteenth day of January,
1865. At this first, very first meeting, he was invited to Booth's
room at the National, where he drank wine and took cigars at Booth's
expense. After consultation about something in an outer passage
between Booth and the party alleged to be with him by Weichmann,
they all came into the room, and for the first time business was
proceeded with in his presence. After that he met Booth in
Mrs. Surratt's parlor and in his own room, and had conversations
with him. As near as Weichmann recollects, about three weeks after
his introduction he met the prisoner, Atzerodt, at Mrs. Surratt's.
(How Atzerodt was received at the house will be referred to.) About
the time that Booth played Pescara in the 'Apostate' at Ford's
Theatre, Weichmann attended the theatre in company with Surratt and
Atzerodt. At the theatre they were joined by Herold. John
T. Holohan, a gentleman not suspected of complicity in the great
tragedy, also joined the company at the theatre. After the play was
over, Surratt, Holohan, and himself went as far as the corner of
Tenth and E Streets, when Surratt, noticing that Atzerodt and Herold
were not with them, sent Weichmann back for them. He found them in
a restaurant with Booth, by whose invitation Weichmann took a drink.
After that the entire party went to Kloman's, on Seventh Street, and
had some oysters. The party there separated, Surratt, Weichmann,
and Holohan going home. In the month of March last the prisoner,
Payne, according to Weichmann, went to Mrs. Surratt's house and
inquired for John H. Surratt. "I, myself," says Weichmann, "went to
open the door, and he inquired for Mr. Surratt I told him
Mr. Surratt was not at home; but I would introduce him to the
family, and did introduce him to Mrs. Surratt--under the name of
Wood." What more? By Weichmann's request Payne remained in the
house all night. He had supper served him in the privacy of
Weichmann's own room. More than that, Weichmann went down into the
kitchen and got the supper and carried it up to him himself, and as
nearly as he recollects, it was about eight weeks previous to the
assassination; Payne remained as Weichmann's guest until the nest
morning, when he left on the early train for Baltimore. About three
weeks after that Payne called again. Says Weichmann, "I again went
to the door, and I again ushered him into the parlor." But he adds
that he had forgotten his name, and only recollected that he had
given the name of Wood on the former visit, when one of the ladies
called Payne by that name. He who had served supper to Payne in his
own room, and had spent a night with him, could not recollect for
three weeks the common name of "Wood," but recollects with such
distinctness and particularity scenes and incidents of much greater
age, and by which he is jeopardizing the lives of others. Payne
remained that time about three days, representing himself to the
family as a Baptist preacher; claiming that he had been in prison in
Baltimore for about a week; that he had taken the oath of allegiance
and was going to become a good loyal citizen. To Mrs. Surratt this
seemed eccentric, and she said "he was a great-looking Baptist
preacher." "They looked upon it as odd and laughed about it." It
seemed from Weichmann's testimony that he again shared his room with
Payne. Returning from his office one day, and finding a false
mustache on the table in his room, he took it and threw it into his
toilet box, and afterward put it with a box of paints into his
trunk. The mustache was subsequently found in Weichmann's baggage.
When Payne, according to Weichmann's testimony, inquired, "Where is
my mustache?" Weichmann said nothing, but "thought it rather queer
that a Baptist preacher should wear a false mustache." He says that
he did not want it about his room--"thought no honest person had any
reason to wear a false mustache," and as no "honest person" should
be in possession of it, he locked it up in his own trunk. Weichmann
professes throughout his testimony the greatest regard and
friendship for Mrs. Surratt and her son. Why did he not go to
Mrs. Surratt and communicate his suspicions at once? She, an
innocent and guileless woman, not knowing what was occurring in her
own house; he, the friend, coming into possession of important
facts, and not making them known to her, the head of the household,
but claiming now, since this overwhelming misfortune has fallen upon
Mrs. Surratt, that, while reposing in the very bosom of the family
as a friend and confidant, he was a spy and an informer, and, that,
we believe, is the best excuse the prosecution is able to make for
him. His account and explanation of the mustache would be treated
with contemptuous ridicule in a civil court.
But this is not all. Concede Weichmann's account of the mustache to
be true, and if it was not enough to rouse his suspicions that all
was not right, he states that, on the same day, he went to Surratt's
room and found Payne seated on the bed with Surratt, playing with
bowie knives, and surrounded with revolvers and spurs. Miss Honora
Fitzpatrick testifies that Weichmann was treated by Mrs. Surratt
"more like a son than a friend." Poor return for motherly care!
Guilty knowledge and participation in crime or in wild schemes for
the capture of the President would be a good excuse for not making
all this known to Mrs. Surratt. In speaking of the spurs and
pistols, Weichmann knew that there were just eight spurs and two
long navy revolvers. Bear in mind, we ask you, gentlemen of the
commission, that there is no evidence before you showing that
Mrs. Surratt knew anything about these things. It seems farther on,
about the nineteenth of March, that Weichmann went to the Herndon
House with Surratt to engage a room. He says that he afterwards
learned from Atzerodt that it was for Payne, but contradicts himself
in the same breath by stating that he inquired of Atzerodt if he
were going to see Payne at the Herndon House. His intimate
knowledge of Surratt's movements between Richmond and Washington,
fixing the dates of the trips with great exactitude; of Surratt's
bringing gold back; of Surratt's leaving on the evening of the third
of April for Canada, spending his last moments here with Weichmann;
of Surratt's telling Weichmann about his interview with Davis and
Benjamin--in all this knowledge concerning himself and his
associations with those named as conspirators he is no doubt
truthful, as far as his statements extend; but when he comes to
apply some of this knowledge to others, he at once shakes all faith
in his testimony bearing upon the accused.
"Do you remember," the question was asked him, "early in the month
of April, of Mrs. Surratt having sent for you and asking you to give
Mr. Booth notice that she wished to see him?"
Weichmann stated in his reply that she did, that it was on the
second of April, and that he found in Mr. Booth's room John
McCullough, the actor, when he delivered the message. One of two
things to which he swears in this statement cannot be true; 1. That
he met John McCullough in Booth's room, for we have McCullough's
sworn statement that at that time he was not in the city of
Washington, and if, when he delivered the message to Booth,
McCullough was in the room, it could not have been the second of
April.
ST. LAWRENCE HALL. MONTREAL, June 3. 1865.
I am an actor by profession, at present fulfilling an engagement at
Mr. Buckland's theatre, in this city. I arrived here on the twelfth
of May. I performed two engagements at Ford's Theatre in Washington,
during the past winter, the last one closing on Saturday evening,
twenty-fifth of March. I left Washington Sunday evening,
twenty-sixth of March, and have not been there since. I have no
recollection of meeting any person by the name of Weichmann.
--John McCullough.
Sworn to and before me, at the United States Consulate General's, in
Montreal, this third day of June, A.D. 1865.
C. H. POWERS, U. S. Vice Consul-General.
If he can be so mistaken about those facts, may he not be in regard
to that whole transaction? It is also proved by Weichmann that
before Mrs. Surratt started for the country, on the fourteenth of
April, Booth called; that he remained three or four minutes, and
then Weichmann and Mrs. Surratt started for the country.
All this comes out on his first examination in chief. The following
is also told in his first cross-examination: Mrs. Surratt keeps a
boarding house in this city, and was in the habit of renting out her
rooms, and that he was upon very intimate terms with Surratt; that
they occupied the same room; that when he and Mrs. Surratt went to
Surrattsville on the fourteenth, she took two packages, one of
papers, the contents of the other were not known. That persons have
been in the habit of going to Mrs. Surratt's and staying a day or
two; that Atzerodt stopped in the house only one night; that the
first time Payne came to the house he was dressed genteelly, like a
gentleman; that he heard both Mrs. Surratt and her daughter say that
they did not care about having Atzerodt brought to the house; and at
the conclusion, in swearing as to Mrs. Surratt's character, he said
it was exemplary and lady-like in every respect, and apparently, as
far as he could judge, she was all the time, from the first of
November up to the fourteenth of April, "doing her duties to God and
man." It also distinctly appears that Weichmann never had any
conversation with Mrs. Surratt touching any conspiracy. One thing
is apparent to our minds, and it is forced upon us, as it must be
upon every reasonable mind, that in order to have gained all this
knowledge Weichmann must have been within the inner circle of the
conspiracy. He knows too much for an innocent man, and the
conclusion is perfectly irresistible that if Mrs. Surratt had
knowledge of what was going on, and had been, with others, a
_particeps_ _criminis_ in the great conspiracy, she certainly would
have done more than she did or has been shown against her, and
Weichmann would have known it. How does her nonrecognition of
Payne, her acquaintance with Booth, and the delivery of the message
to Lloyd, compare with the long and startling array of facts proved
against Weichmann out of his own mouth? All the facts point
strongly to him as a co-conspirator.
Is there a word on record of conversation between Booth and
Mrs. Surratt? That they did converse together, we know; but if
anything treasonable had passed between them, would not the quick
ears of Weichmann have caught it, and would not he have recited it
to this court?
When Weichmann went, on Tuesday, the eleventh of April, to get
Booth's buggy, he was not asked by Mrs. Surratt to get ten
dollars. It was proffered by Booth, according to Weichmann, and
he took it. If Mrs. Surratt ever got money from Booth she paid
it back to him. It is not her character to be in anyone's debt.
There was no intimacy with Booth, as Mrs. Surratt has proved, but
only common acquaintance, and such as would warrant only occasional
calls on Booth's part, and only intimacy would have excused
Mrs. Surratt to herself in accepting such a favor, had it been made
known to her. Moreover, Miss Surratt has attested to remarks of her
brother, which prove that intimacy of Booth with his sister and
mother were not considered desirable by him.
The preceding facts are proven by statements made by Weichmann
during his first examination. But, as though the commission had not
sufficiently exposed the character of one of its chief witnesses in
the role of grand conspirator, Weichmann is recalled and further
attests to the genuineness of the following telegram:
NEW YORK, March 23d, 1865.--To WEICHMANN, Esq., 541 H St.--Tell John
telegraph number and street at once. [Signed] J. BOOTH.
What additional proof of confidential relations between Weichmann
and Booth could the court desire? If there was a conspiracy planned
and maintained among the persons named in the indictment, Weichmann
must have had entire knowledge of the same, else he had not been
admitted to that degree of knowledge to which he testifies; and in
such case, and in the alleged case of Mrs. Surratt's complicity,
Weichmann must have known the same by circumstances strong enough to
exclude doubt, and in comparison with which all present facts of
accusation would sink into insignificance.
We proceed to the notice and review of the second chief witness of
the prosecution against Mrs. Surratt, John M. Lloyd. He testifies
to the fact of a meeting with Mrs. Surratt at Uniontown on the
eleventh of April, 1865, and to a conversation having occurred
between Mrs. Surratt and himself in regard to which he states: "I am
quite positive she asked me about the 'shooting irons'; I am quite
positive about that, but not altogether positive. I think she named
shooting irons, or something to call my attention to those things,
for I had almost forgotten about their being there." Question.--
"Was her question to you first, whether they were there, or what was
it?" Answer.--"Really, I cannot recollect the first question she
put to me--I could not do it to save my life." The question was
asked Lloyd, During this conversation, was the word 'carbine'
mentioned? He answered, "No. She finally came out (but I cannot be
determined about it, that she said shooting irons), and asked me in
relation to them." The question was then asked, "Can you swear on
your oath, that Mrs. Surratt mentioned the words 'shooting irons'
to you at all?" A.--"I am very positive she did." Q. __ "Are you
certain?" A.--"I am very positive that she named shooting irons
on both occasions. Not so positive as to the first as I am about
the last."
Here comes in the plea of "reasonable doubt." If the witness himself
is not absolutely positive as to what occurred, and as to the
conversation that took place, how can the jury assume to act upon it
as they would upon a matter personally concerning themselves?
On this occasion of Mrs. Surratt's visit to Uniontown, three days
before the assassination, where she met Lloyd, and where this
conversation occurred between them, at a time when Lloyd was, by
presumption, sober and not intoxicated, he declares definitely
before the commission that he is unable to recollect the
conversation, or parts of it, with distinctness. But on the
fourteenth of April, and at a time when, as testified by his
sister-in-law, he was more than ordinarily affected by intoxicating
drink,--and Captain Gwynn, James Lusby, Knott, the barkeeper, and
others, corroborate the testimony as to his absolute inebriation--
he attests that he positively remembers that Mrs. Surratt said to
him, "'Mr. Lloyd, I want you to have those shooting irons
ready. That a person would call for them.' That was the language
she made use of, and she gave me this other thing to give to whoever
called."
In connection with the fact that Lloyd cannot swear positively that
Mrs. Surratt mentioned "shooting irons" to him at Uniontown, bear
in mind the fact that Weichmann sat in the buggy on the same seat
with Mrs. Surratt, and he swears that he heard nothing about
"shooting irons." Would not the quick ears of Weichmann have heard
the remark had it been made?
The gentlemen of the commission will please recollect that these
statements were rendered by a man addicted to excessive use of
intoxicating liquors; that he was even inordinately drunk at the
time referred to; that he had voluntarily complicated himself in the
concealment of the arms by John H. Surratt and his friends; that he
was in a state of maudlin terror when arrested and when forced to
confess; that for two days he maintained denial of all knowledge
that Booth and Herold had been at his house; and that at last, and
in the condition referred to, he was coerced by threats to confess,
and into a weak and common effort to exculpate himself by the
accusation of another and by statements of conversation already
cited. Notwithstanding his utter denial of all knowledge of Booth
and Herold having called at his house, it afterward appears, by his
own testimony, that immediately Herold commanded him (Lloyd) "For
God's sake, make haste and get those things," he comprehended what
"things" were indicated, without definition, and brought forth both
carbines and whisky. He testifies that John H. Surratt had told
him, when depositing the weapons in concealment in his house, that
they would soon be called for, but did not instruct him, it seems,
by whom they would be demanded.
All facts connecting Lloyd with the case tend to his implication and
guilt, and to prove that he adopted the _dernier_ _ressort_ of guilt--
accusation and inculpation of another. In case Lloyd were innocent
and Mrs. Surratt the guilty coadjutrix and messenger of the
conspirators, would not Lloyd have been able to cite so many open
and significant remarks and acts of Mrs. Surratt that he would not
have been obliged to recall, in all perversion and weakness of
uncertainty, deeds and speech so common and unmeaning as his
testimony includes?
It is upon these considerations that we feel ourselves safe and
reasonable in the position that there are facts and circumstances,
both external and internal, connected with the testimony of
Weichmann and Lloyd, which, if they do not destroy, do certainly
greatly shake their credibility, and which, under the rule that will
give Mrs. Surratt the benefit of all reasonable doubts, seem to
forbid that she should be convicted upon the unsupported evidence of
these two witnesses. But even admitting the facts to be proven as
above recited, it remains to be seen where is the guilty knowledge
of the contemplated assassination; and this brings us to the inquiry
whether these facts are not explainable so as to exclude guilt.
From one of the most respected of legal authorities the following is
taken:--
"Whenever, therefore, the evidence leaves it indifferent which of
several hypotheses is true, or merely establishes some finite
probability in favor of one hypothesis rather than another, such
evidence cannot amount to proof. The maxim of the law is that it is
better that ninety-nine offenders should escape than that one
innocent man should be condemned." (Starkie on Evidence.)
The acts of Mrs. Surratt must have been accompanied with criminal
intent in order to make them criminal. If any one supposes that any
such intent existed, the supposition comes alone from inference. If
disloyal acts and constant disloyal practices, if overt and open
action against the government, on her part, had been shown down to
the day of the murder of the President, it would do something toward
establishing the inference of criminal intent. On the other hand,
just the reverse is shown. The remarks here of the learned and
honorable judge advocate are peculiarly appropriate to this branch
of the discussion, and, with his authority, we waive all others.
"If the court please, I will make a single remark. I think the
testimony in this case has proved, what I believe history
sufficiently attests, how kindred to each other are the crimes of
treason against a nation and the assassination of its chief
magistrate. As I think of those crimes, the one seems to be, if not
the necessary consequence, certainly a logical sequence from the
other. The murder of the President of the United States, as alleged
and shown, was preeminently a political assassination. Disloyalty to
the government was its sole, its only inspiration. When, therefore,
we shall show, on the part of the accused, acts of intense
disloyalty, bearing arms in the field against that government, we
show, with him, the presence of an animus toward the government
which relieves this accusation of much, if not all, of its
improbability. And this course of proof is constantly resorted to in
criminal courts. I do not regard it as in the slightest degree a
departure from the usages of the profession in the administration of
public justice. The purpose is to show that the prisoner, in his
mind and course of life, was prepared for the commission of this
crime: that the tendencies of his life, as evidenced by open and
overt acts, lead and point to this crime, if not as a necessary,
certainly as a most probable, result, and it is with that view, and
that only, that the testimony is offered."
Is there anything in Mrs. Surratt's mind and course of life to show
that she was prepared for the commission of this crime? The
business transaction by Mrs. Surratt at Surrattsville, on the
fourteenth, clearly discloses her only purpose in making this visit.
Calvert's letters, the package of papers relating to the estate, the
business with Nothe, would be sufficiently clear to most minds, when
added to the fact that the other unknown package had been handed to
Mrs, Offutt; that, while at Surrattsville, she made an inquiry for,
or an allusion to, Mr. Lloyd, and was ready to return to Washington
when Lloyd drove up to the house. Does not this open wide the door
for the admission of the plea of "reasonable doubt"? Had she really
been engaged in assisting in the great crime, which makes an epoch
in our country's history, her only object and most anxious wish
would have been to see Lloyd. It was no ruse to transact important
business there to cover up what the uncharitable would call the real
business. Calvert's letter was received by her on the forenoon of
the fourteenth, and long before she saw Booth that day, or even
before Booth knew that the President would be at the theatre that
night, Mrs. Surratt had disclosed her intention to go to
Surrattsville, and had she been one moment earlier in her start she
would not have seen Booth at all. All these things furnish powerful
presumptions in favor of the theory that, if she delivered the
message at all, it was done innocently.
In regard to the nonrecognition of Payne, the third fact adduced by
the prosecution against Mrs. Surratt, we incline to the opinion
that, to all minds not forejudging, the testimony of Miss Anna
E. Surratt, and various friends and servants of Mrs. Surratt,
relative to physical causes, might fully explain and account for
such ocular remissness and failure. In times and on occasions of
casual meeting of intimate acquaintances on the street, and of
common need for domestic uses, the eyesight of Mrs. Surratt had
proved treacherous and failing. How much more liable to fail her
was her imperfect vision on an occasion of excitement and anxiety,
like the night of her arrest and the disturbance of her household by
military officers, and when the person with whom she was confronted
was transfigured by a disguise which varied from the one in which
she had previously met him, with all the wide difference between a
Baptist parson and an earth-soiled, uncouthly-dressed digger of
gutters! Anna E. Surratt, Emma Offutt, Anna Ward, Elize Holohan,
Honora Fitzpatrick, and a servant, attest to all the visual
incapacity of Mrs. Surratt, and the annoyance she experienced
therefrom in passing friends without recognition in the daytime, and
from inability to sew or read even on a dark day, as well as at
night. The priests of her church, and gentlemen who have been
friendly and neighborhood acquaintances of Mrs. Surratt for many
years, bear witness to her untarnished name, to her discreet and
Christian character, to the absence of all imputation of disloyalty,
to her character for patriotism. Friends and servants attest to her
voluntary and gratuitous beneficence to our soldiers stationed
near her; and, "in charges for high treason, it is pertinent to
inquire into the humanity of the prisoner toward those representing
the government," is the maxim of the law; and, in addition, we
invite your attention to the singular fact that of the two officers
who bore testimony in this matter, one asserts that the hall wherein
Payne sat was illuminated with a full head of gas; the other, that
the gaslight was purposely dimmed. The uncertainty of the witness
who gave the testimony relative to the coat of Payne may also be
called to your notice.
Should not this valuable testimony of loyal and moral character
shield a woman from the ready belief, on the part of judges who
judge her worthiness in every way, that during the few moments Booth
detained Mrs. Surratt from her carriage, already waiting, when he
approached and entered the house, she became so converted to
diabolical evil as to hail with ready assistance his terrible plot,
which must have been framed (if it were complete in his intent at
that hour, half-past two o'clock), since the hour of eleven that
day?
If any part of Lloyd's statements is true, and Mrs. Surratt did
verily bear to his or Mrs. Offutt's hands the field glass, enveloped
in paper, by the evidence itself we may believe she knew not the
nature of the contents of the package; and had she known, what evil
could she or any other have attached to a commission of so common a
nature? No evidence of individual or personal intimacy with Booth
has been adduced against Mrs. Surratt; no long and apparently
confidential interviews; no indications of a private comprehension
mutual between them; only the natural and not frequent custom on the
part of Booth--as any other associate of her son might and
doubtless did do--of inquiring through the mother, whom he would
request to see, of the son, who, he would learn, was absent from
home. No one has been found who could declare any appearance of the
nursing or mysteriously discussing of anything like conspiracy
within the walls of Mrs. Surratt's house. Even if the son of
Mrs. Surratt, from the significancies of associations, is to be
classed with the conspirators, if such a body existed, it is
monstrous to suppose that the son would weave a net of circumstantial
evidences around the dwelling of his widowed mother, were he never
so reckless and sin-determined; and that they (the mother and the
son) joined hands in such dreadful pact, is a thought more monstrous
still!
A mother and son associate in crime, and such a crime as this, which
half of the civilized world never saw matched in all its dreadful
bearings! Our judgments can have hardly recovered their unprejudiced
poise since the shock of the late horror, if we can contemplate with
credulity such a picture, conjured by the unjust spirits of
indiscriminate accusation and revenge. A crime which, in its public
magnitude, added to its private misery, would have driven even the
Atis-haunted heart of a Medici, a Borgia, or a Madame Bocarme to
wild confession before its accomplishment, and daunted even that
soul, of all the recorded world the most eager for novelty in
license, and most unshrinking in sin--the indurated soul of
Christina of Sweden; such a crime the profoundest plotters within
padded walls would scarcely dare whisper; the words forming the
expression of which, spoken aloud in the upper air, would convert
all listening boughs to aspens, and all glad sounds of nature to
shuddering wails. And this made known, even surmised, to a woman a
_materfamilias_ the good genius, the _placens_ _uxor_ of a home where
children had gathered all the influences of purity and the
reminiscences of innocence, where religion watched, and the Church
was minister and teacher!
Who--were circumstantial evidence strong and conclusive, such as
only time and the slow-weaving fates could elucidate and deny--who
will believe, when the mists of uncertainty which cloud the present
shall have dissolved, that a woman born and bred in respectability
and competence--a Christian mother, and a citizen who never
offended the laws of civil propriety; whose unfailing attention to
the most sacred duties of life has won for her the name of "a proper
Christian matron"; whose heart was ever warmed by charity; whose
door unbarred to the poor; and whose Penates had never cause to veil
their faces--who will believe that she could so suddenly and so
fully have learned the intricate arts of sin? A daughter of the
South, her life associations confirming her natal predilections, her
individual preferences inclined, without logic or question, to the
Southern people, but with no consciousness nor intent of disloyalty
to her government, and causing no exclusion from her friendship and
active favors of the people of the loyal North, nor repugnance in
the distribution among our Union soldiery of all needed comforts,
and on all occasions.
A strong but guileless-hearted woman, her maternal solicitude would
have been the first denouncer, even the abrupt betrayer of a plotted
crime in which one companion of her son could have been implicated,
had cognizance of such reached her. Her days would have been
agonized, and her nights sleepless, till she might have exposed and
counteracted that spirit of defiant hate which watched its moment of
vantage to wreak an immortal wrong--till she might have sought the
intercession and absolution of the Church, her refuge, in behalf of
those she loved. The brains which were bold and crafty and couchant
enough to dare the world's opprobrium in the conception of a scheme
which held as naught the lives of men in highest places, would never
have imparted it to the intelligence, nor sought the aid nor
sympathy, of any living woman who had not, like Lady Macbeth,
"unsexed herself"--not though she were wise and discreet as Maria
Theresa or the Castilian Isabella. This woman knew it not. This
woman, who, on the morning preceding that blackest day in our
country's annals, knelt in the performance of her most sincere and
sacred duty at the confessional, and received the mystic rite of the
Eucharist, knew it not. Not only would she have rejected it with
horror, but such a proposition, presented by the guest who had sat
at her hearth as the friend and convive of the son upon whose arm
and integrity her widowed womanhood relied for solace and
protection, would have roused her maternal wits to some sure cunning
which would have contravened the crime and sheltered her son from
the evil influences and miserable results of such companionship.
The mothers of Charles IX. and of Nero could harbor underneath their
terrible smiles schemes for the violent and unshriven deaths, or the
moral vitiation and decadence which would painfully and gradually
remove lives sprung from their own, were they obstacles to their
demoniac ambition. But they wrought their awful romances of crime in
lands where the sun of supreme civilization, through a gorgeous
evening of Sybaritic luxury, was sinking, with red tints of
revolution, into the night of anarchy and national caducity. In our
own young nation, strong in its morality, energy, freedom, and
simplicity, assassination can never be indigenous. Even among the
desperadoes and imported lazzaroni of our largest cities, it is
comparatively an infrequent cause of fear.
The daughters of women to whom, in their yet preserved abodes, the
noble mothers who adorned the days of our early independence are
vividly remembered realities and not haunting shades--the
descendants of earnest seekers for liberty, civil and religious, of
rare races, grown great in heroic endurance, in purity which comes
of trial borne, and in hope born of conscious right, whom the wheels
of fortune sent hither to transmit such virtues--the descendants
of these have no heart, no ear for the diabolisms born in hotbeds of
tyranny and intolerance. No descendant of these--no woman of this
temperate land--could have seen, much less joined, her son,
descending the sanguinary and irrepassable ways of treason and
murder to an ignominious death, or an expatriated and attainted
life, worse than the punishing wheel and bloody pool of the poets'
hell.
In our country, where reason and moderation so easily quench the
fires of insane hate, and where the vendetta is so easily overcome
by the sublime grace of forgiveness, no woman could have been found
so desperate as to sacrifice all spiritual, temporal, and social
good, self, offspring, fame, honor, and all the desiderata of life,
and time, and immortality, to the commission, or even countenance,
of such a deed of horror, as we have been compelled to contemplate
during the two months past.
In a Christian land, where all records and results of the world's
intellectual, civil, and moral advancement mold the human heart and
mind to highest impulses, the theory of old Helvetius is more
probable than desirable.
The natures of all born in equal station are not so widely varied as
to present extremes of vice and goodness, but by the effects of rarest
and severest experience. Beautiful fairies and terrible gnomes do not
stand by each infant's cradle, sowing the nascent mind with tenderest
graces or vilest errors. The slow attrition of vicious associations
and law-defying indulgences, or the sudden impetus of some terribly
multiplied and social disaster, must have worn away the susceptibility
of conscience and self-respect, or dashed the mind from the height of
these down to the depths of despair and recklessness, before one of
ordinary life could take counsel with violence and crime. In no such
manner was the life of our client marked. It was the parallel of
nearly all the competent masses. Surrounded by the scenes of her
earliest recollections, independent in her condition she was satisfied
with the _mundus_ of her daily pursuits, and the maintenance of her own
and children's status in society and her Church.
Remember your wives, mothers, sisters, and gentle friends whose
graces, purity, and careful affection, ornament and cherish and
strengthen your lives. Not widely different from their natures and
spheres have been the nature and sphere of the woman who sits in the
prisoner's dock to-day, mourning with the heart of Alcestis her
children and her lot; by whose desolated hearthstone a solitary
daughter wastes her uncomforted life away in tears and prayers and
vigils for the dawn of hope; and this wretchedness and unpitied
despair have closed like a shadow around one of earth's common
pictures of domestic peace and social comfort, destroyed by the one
sole cause--suspicion fastened and fed upon the facts of
acquaintance and mere fortuitous intercourse with that man in whose
name so many miseries gather, the assassin of the President.
Since the days when Christian teachings first elevated woman to her
present free, refined, and refining position, man's power and
honoring regard have been the palladium of her sex.
Let no stain of injustice, eager for a sacrifice to revenge, rest
upon the reputation of the men of our country and time!
This woman, who, widowed of her natural protectors, who, in
helplessness and painfully severe imprisonment, in sickness and in
grief ineffable, sues for mercy and justice from your hands, may
leave a legacy of blessings, sweet as fruition-hastening showers,
for those you love and care for, in return for the happiness of fame
and home restored, though life be abbreviated and darkened through
this world by the miseries of this unmerited and woeful trial. But
long and chilling is the shade which just retribution, slow creeping
on, _ped_ _claudo_, casts around the fate of him whose heart is
merciless to his fellows bowed low in misfortune.
ALBERTUS MAGNUS (1205-1280)
Albert the Great (Albertus Magnus), teacher of St. Thomas Aquinas,
was one of the most celebrated orators and theologians of the Church
in the thirteenth century. He was born at Lauingen on the Danube in
1205 (according to some in 1193), and, becoming a Dominican at the
age of twenty-nine, he taught in various German cities with
continually increasing celebrity, until finally the Pope called him
to preach in Rome. In 1260 he was made Bishop of Ratisbon, but after
three years resigned the bishopric and returned to his work in the
ranks of the clergy. While teaching at Cologne he suddenly lost his
memory, probably as a result of his excessive studies. He died
November 15th, 1280. He was placed on the calendar of saints in
1615. His works, collected by Peter Jammy, and published at Lyons in
1651, make twenty-one volumes, folio.
THE MEANING OF THE CRUCIFIXION
It was surrounded by the thick wreath of thorns even to the tender
brain. Whence in the Prophet,--the people hath surrounded me with
the thorns of sin. And why was this, save that thine own head might
not suffer--thine own conscience might not be wounded? His eyes
grew dark in death; and those lights, which give light to the world,
were for a time extinguished. And when they were clouded, there was
darkness over all the earth, and with them the two great lights of
the firmament were moved, to the end that thine eyes might be turned
away, lest they should behold vanity; or, if they chance to behold
it, might for his sake condemn it. Those ears, which in heaven
unceasingly hear "Holy, Holy, Holy," vouchsafed on earth to be
filled with: "Thou hast a devil,--Crucify him, Crucify him!" to
the intent that thine ears might not be deaf to the cry of the poor,
nor, open to idle tales, should readily receive the poison of
detraction or of adulation. That fair face of him that was fairer
than the children of men, yea, than thousands of angels, was
bedaubed with spitting, afflicted with blows, given up to mockery,
to the end that thy face might be enlightened, and, being
enlightened, might be strengthened, so that it might be said of
thee, "His countenance is no more changed." That mouth, which
teaches angels and instructs men "which spake and it was done," was
fed with gall and vinegar, that thy mouth might speak the truth, and
might be opened to the praise of the Lord; and it was silent, lest
thou shouldst lightly lend thy tongue to the expression of anger.
Those hands, which stretched abroad the heavens, were stretched out
on the cross and pierced with most bitter nails; as saith Isaiah, "I
have stretched forth my hands all the day to an unbelieving people."
And David, "They pierced my hands and my feet; I may tell all my
bones." And Saint Jerome says, "We may, in the stretching forth of
his hands, understand the liberality of the giver, who denieth
nothing to them that ask lovingly; who restored health to the leper
that requested it of him; enlightened him that was blind from his
birth; fed the hungry multitude in the wilderness." And again he
says, "The stretched-out hands denote the kindness of the parent,
who desires to receive his children to his breast." And thus let thy
hands be so stretched out to the poor that thou mayest be able to
say, "My soul is always in my hand." For that which is held in the
hand is not easily forgotten. So he may be said to call his soul to
memory, who carries it, as it were, in his hands through the good
opinion that men conceive of it. His hands were fixed, that they may
instruct thee to hold back thy hands, with the nails of fear, from
unlawful or harmful works.
That glorious breast, in which are hidden all the treasures of
wisdom and knowledge, is pierced with the lance of a soldier, to the
end that thy heart might be cleansed from evil thoughts, and being
cleansed might be sanctified, and being sanctified might be
preserved. The feet, whose footstool the Prophets commanded to be
sanctified, were bitterly nailed to the cross, lest thy feet should
sustain evil, or be swift to shed blood; but, running in the way of
the Lord, stable in his path, and fixed in his road, might not turn
aside to the right hand nor to the left. "What could have been done
more?"
Why did Christ bow his head on the cross? To teach us that by
humility we must enter into Heaven. Also, to show that we must rest
from our own work. Also, that he might comply with the petition,
"Let him kiss me with the kisses of his mouth"; also that he might
ask permission of his bride to leave her. Of great virtue is the
memory of the Lord's passion, which, if it be firmly held in the
mind, every cloud of error and sin is dispersed. Whence the blessed
Bernard says: "Always having Christ, and him crucified, in the
heart."
THE BLESSED DEAD
They who die in the Lord are blessed, on account of two things which
immediately follow. For they enter into most sweet rest, and enjoy
most delicate refreshment. Concerning their rest it immediately
follows. "Even so saith the spirit" (that is, says the gloss, the
whole Trinity), for they rest from their labors. "And it is a
pleasant bed on which they take their rest, who, as is aforesaid,
die in the Lord." For this bed is none other than the sweet
consolation of the Creator. Of this consolation he speaks himself by
the Prophet Isaiah: "As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I
comfort you, and ye shall be comforted in Jerusalem." Of the
second,--that is, the delicate refreshment of those that die in
Christ,--it is immediately subjoined, and their works do follow
them. For every virtue which a man has practiced by good works in
this world will bring a special cup of recompense, and offer it to
the soul that has entered into rest. Thus, purity of body and mind
will bring one cup, justice another, which also is to be said
concerning truth, love, gentleness, humility, and the other
virtues. Of this holy refreshment it is written in Isaiah: "Kings
shall be thy nursing fathers, and queens thy nursing mothers." By
kings we understand the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, who, in
inseparable unity, possess the kingdom of heaven; by queens, the
virtues are expressed, which, as has been said, receive the cups of
refreshment from the storehouse of the Trinity, and offer them to
the happy souls. Pray, therefore, dearly beloved, to the Lord, that
he would so grant us to live according to his will, that we may die
in him, and may evermore be comforted and refreshed by him.
ETHAN ALLEN
Ethan Allen of New York, a descendant of the Revolutionary hero
made famous by the capture of Ticonderoga, has never been a
professional public speaker, but from time to time, when stirred by
some cause which appealed to him strongly, he has shown great power
as an orator. His address of 1861, delivered in New York city, is
here republished from a contemporaneous report, preserved among the
papers of Mr. Enos Clarke. It was described in the newspapers of the
day as "thrilling eloquence," and perhaps it is the best expression
extant of the almost inconceivable excitement of the opening months
of the war.
In 1872 Mr. Alien joined the Liberal Republicans and made earnest
pleas for reconciliation with the South. In 1897 he took a prominent
part in supporting the Cubans in their struggle for independence.
A CALL TO ARMS (Delivered in New York city in 1861)
Fellow-Citizens:--
Once more the country is aroused by a call to arms. It is now
nearly a century ago that our fathers assembled in mass meetings in
this city to devise ways and means for this very flag which to-day
we give to the winds of heaven, bearing defiance from every star.
Fired, then, with the same spirit of freedom that kindles on this
spot to-day, for the time throwing aside the habiliments of peace,
our fathers armed themselves for vengeance and for war. The history
of that war, read it in the hearts of the American people; the
trials and struggles of that war, mark them in the teardrops which
the very allusion brings to every eye; the blessings from that war,
count them in the temples of industry and trade that arise
everywhere around us; the wisdom of that war, and the honor and the
perpetuity of its triumphs, behold the one in our unexampled
prosperity as a nation, and the other in the impulses that, like an
electric flash, bind heart to heart, throughout this vast
assemblage, in the firm resolve that, cost what it may, rebellion
shall go down. Again, the American people are assembled in mass
meetings throughout the nation, while the States once more rock in
the throes of revolution. Once more the cry to arms reverberates
throughout the land; but this time we war against domestic foes.
Treason has raised its black flag near the tomb of Washington, and
the Union of our States hangs her fate upon the bayonet and the
sword. Accursed be the hand that would not seize the bayonet;
withered the arm that would not wield the sword in such a cause!
Everything that the American citizen holds dear hangs upon the issue
of this contest. Our national honor and reputation demand that
rebellion shall not triumph on our soil. In the name of our heroic
dead, in the name of our numberless victories, in the name of our
thousand peaceful triumphs, our Union shall and must be preserved!
Our peaceful triumphs? These are the victories we should be jealous
to guard. Let others recount their martial glories; they shall be
eclipsed by the charity and the grace of the triumphs which have
been won in peace. "Peace hath her victories not less renowned than
war," and the hard-earned fruits of these victories rebellion shall
not take from us. Our peaceful triumphs? Who shall enumerate their
value to the millions yet unborn? What nation in so short a time
has seen so many? On the land and on the sea, in the realms of
science and in the world of art, we have everywhere gathered our
honors and won our garlands. Upon the altars of the States they yet
lie, fresh from gathering, while their happy influence fills the
land. Of the importance and value of our thousand peaceful triumphs
time will permit me to mention only one. It is now just two years
ago when up the waters of the Potomac sailed the representatives of
an empire till then shut out from intercourse with all Christian
nations. In the Eastern seas there lay an empire of islands which
had hitherto enjoyed no recognition in the Christian world other
than its name upon the map. No history, as far as we know,
illuminated it; no ancient time-marks told of its advancement, step
by step, in the march of improvement. There it has rested for
thousands of years, wrapped in the mysteries of its own
exclusiveness--gloomy, dark, peculiar. It has been supposed to
possess great powers; and vague rumors have attributed to it arts to
us unknown. Against nearly all the world, for thousands of years
Japan has obstinately shut her doors; the wealth of the Christian
world could not tempt her cupidity; the wonders of the Christian
world could not excite her curiosity. There she lay, sullen and
alone, the phenomenon of nations. England and France and the other
powerful governments of Europe have at various times tried to
conquer this Oriental exclusiveness, but the Portuguese only partly
succeeded, while all the rest have signally failed. At length we,
bearing at our masthead the glorious old Stars and Stripes, approach
the mysterious portals and seek an entrance. Not with cannon and
the implements of death do we demand admission, but, appreciating
the saying of Euripides, that
"Resistless eloquence shall open
The gates that steel exclude,"
we peacefully appeal to that sense of justice which is the "touch of
nature that makes the whole world kin," and behold! the
interdiction is removed; the doors of the mysterious empire fly
open, and a new garland is added to our commercial conquests! Who
shall set limits to the gain that shall follow this one victory of
peace, if our government shall be perpetuated so as to gather it for
the generations? Who shall say that in an unbroken, undivided
union, the opening of the empire of Japan shall not accomplish for
the present era all that the Reformation, the art of printing,
steam, and the telegraph have done within the last three hundred
years? New avenues of wealth are thrown open; new fields are to be
occupied; arts new to us, perhaps, are to be studied; and science,
doubtless, has revelations to make us, from that arcana of nations,
equal to anything we have ever learned before. Fifty millions of
people are to be enlightened; the printing press is yet to catch the
daily thought and stamp it on the page; the magnetic wire must yet
tremble along her highways, and Niphon yet tremble to her very
centre at each heart-beat of our ocean steamers, as they sweep
through her waters and thunder round her island homes. All hail,
all hail, to these children of the morning; all hail, all hail, to
the Great Republic of the West that calls them into life! From
every age that has passed there comes a song of praise for the
treaty that has been consummated. The buried masters of three
thousand years start again to life and march in solemn and grand
procession before the eyes of the new-found empire. Homer with his
songs, Greece with her arts, Rome with her legions, and America with
her heroes, all come to us with the freshness and novelty of the
newly born. Wipe off the mold that time has gathered upon their
tombs, and let them all come forth and answer, at the summons of a
new-born nation that calls them again to life!
Tell to these strangers the story of the resurrection. Clutching in
their hands their dripping blades, the warriors recount their
conquests, and joined at last in harmonious brotherhood, Copernicus,
with bony fingers pointing upward, tells to Confucius his story of
the stars!
Fellow-citizens, I have recounted but one of our many peaceful
triumphs. Shall all these hopes of the future, shall all these
peaceful victories of our people, shall all these struggles of the
past be swept away by the dissolution of this Union and the
destruction of the government? Forbid it, Almighty God! Rather
perish a thousand times the cause of the rebellion, and over the
ruins of slavery let peace once more resume her sway, and let the
cannon's lips grow cold. _Delenda_ _est_ _Carthago_, said the old
Roman patriot, when gloom settled upon his State. The rebellion
must go down in the same spirit, say we all to-day. Down with
party, sect, and class, and up with a sentiment of unanimity when
our country calls to arms! New England leads us in the contest.
The legions of Vermont are now _en_ _route_ for the field. Again,
she can say with truth that "the bones of her sons lie mingling and
bleaching with the soil of every State from Maine to Georgia, and
there they will lie forever." New York must not be behind the Old
Bay State which led a year ago. In the spirit world, Warren calls
to Hamilton, and Hamilton calls back to Warren, that hand in hand
their mortal children go on together to fame, to victory, or to the
grave. Where the ranks are full, let us catch an inspiration from
the past, and with it upon us go forth to conflict. Go call the
roll on Saratoga, Bunker Hill, and Yorktown, that the sheeted dead
may rise as witnesses, and tell your legions of the effort to
dissolve their Union, and there receive their answer. Mad with
frenzy, burning with indignation at the thought, all ablaze for
vengeance upon the traitors, such shall be the fury and impetuosity
of the onset that all opposition shall be swept away before them, as
the pigmy yields to the avalanche that comes tumbling, rumbling,
thundering from its Alpine home! Let us gather at the tomb of
Washington and invoke his immortal spirit to direct us in the
combat. Rising again incarnate from the tomb, in one hand he holds
that same old flag, blackened and begrimed with the smoke of a
seven-years' war, and with the other hand be points us to the foe.
Up and at them! Let immortal energy strengthen our arms, and
infernal fury thrill us to the soul. One blow,--deep, effectual,
and forever,--one crushing blow upon the rebellion, in the name of
God, Washington, and the Republic!
FISHER AMES (1758-1808)
Fisher Ames is easily first among the New England Federalist orators
of the first quarter of a century of the Republic. He was greatly,
sometimes extravagantly, admired by his contemporaries, and his
addresses are studied as models by eminent public speakers of our
own day. Dr. Charles Caldwell in his autobiography calls Ames "one
of the most splendid rhetoricians of his age." . . . "Two of his
speeches," writes Doctor Caldwell, "that on Jay's Treaty and that
usually called his Tomahawk speech, because it included some
resplendent passages on Indian massacre, were the most brilliant and
fascinating specimens of eloquence I have ever heard, though I have
listened to some of the most eloquent speakers in the British
Parliament,--among others to Wilberforce and Mackintosh,
Plunkett, Brougham, and Canning. Doctor Priestly who was familiar
with the oratory of Pitt the father, and Pitt the son, as also with
that of Burke and Fox, made to myself the acknowledgment that the
speech of Ames on the British treaty was 'the most bewitching piece
of eloquence' to which he had ever listened."
Ames was born at Dedham, Massachusetts, on April 9th, 1758. His
father, Nathaniel Ames, a physician, had the "honorable family
standing" which was so important in the life of most of the
colonies. He had scientific tendencies and published an
"Astronomical Diary," or nautical almanac, which was in considerable
vogue. The son, however, developed at the early age of six years a
fondness for classical literature, which led him to undertake to
master Latin. He made such progress that he was admitted to Harvard
when but twelve years old. While there, it "was observed that he
coveted the glory of eloquence," showing his fondness for oratory
not merely in the usual debating society declamation, but by the
study of classical models and of such great English poets as
Shakespeare and Milton. To this, no doubt correctly, has been
attributed his great command of language and his fertility in
illustration. After graduating from Harvard in 1774, he studied law
in Boston, served in the Massachusetts legislature, in the
convention for ratifying the Federal constitution, and in the first
Congress elected under the constitution. After retiring, be was
called in 1804 to the presidency of Harvard. He declined the honor,
however, on account of diffidence and failing health. His death
occurred on the fourth of July, 1808, in the fiftieth year of his age.
After the treaty with Great Britain (Jay's), concluded in 1794, had
been ratified and proclaimed by the President, he communicated it to
the House of Representatives, "in order that the necessary
appropriations might be made to carry it into effect." The speech
on the Treaty, delivered by Ames, was on a resolution in favor of
making the appropriations thus called for, the House being in
committee of the whole April 28th, 1796.
ON THE BRITISH TREATY
(Delivered in the House of Representatives, April 28, 1796)
Mr. Chairman:--
I entertain the hope, perhaps a rash one, that my strength will hold
me out to speak a few minutes.
In my judgment, a right decision will depend more on the temper and
manner with which we may prevail upon ourselves to contemplate the
subject than upon the development of any profound political
principles, or any remarkable skill in the application of them. If
we could succeed to neutralize our inclinations, we should find less
difficulty than we have to apprehend in surmounting all our
objections.
The suggestion, a few days ago, that the House manifested symptoms
of heat and irritation, was made and retorted as if the charge ought
to create surprise, and would convey reproach. Let us be more just
to ourselves and to the occasion. Let us not affect to deny the
existence and the intrusion of some portion of prejudice and feeling
into the debate, when, from the very structure of our nature, we
ought to anticipate the circumstance as a probability, and when we
are admonished by the evidence of our senses that it is the fact.
How can we make professions for ourselves, and offer exhortations to
the House, that no influence should be felt but that of duty, and no
guide respected but that of the understanding, while the peal to
rally every passion of man is continually ringing in our ears?
Our understandings have been addressed, it is true, and with ability
and effect; but, I demand, has any corner of the heart been left
unexplored? It has been ransacked to find auxiliary arguments, and,
when that attempt failed, to awaken the sensibilities that would
require none. Every prejudice and feeling has been summoned to
listen to some peculiar style of address; and yet we seem to believe
and to consider as an affront a doubt that we are strangers to any
influence but that of unbiased reason.
It would be strange that a subject which has aroused in turn all the
passions of the country should be discussed without the interference
of any of our own. We are men, and, therefore, not exempt from those
passions; as citizens and representatives we feel the interests that
must excite them. The hazard of great interests cannot fail to
agitate strong passions. We are not disinterested; it is impossible
we should be dispassionate. The warmth of such feelings may becloud
the judgment, and, for a time, pervert the understanding. But the
public sensibility, and our own, has sharpened the spirit of
inquiry, and given an animation to the debate. The public attention
has been quickened to mark the progress of the discussion, and its
judgment, often hasty and erroneous on first impressions, has become
solid and enlightened at last. Our result will, I hope, on that
account, be the safer and more mature, as well as more accordant
with that of the nation. The only constant agents in political
affairs are the passions of men. Shall we complain of our nature--
shall we say that man ought to have been made otherwise? It is right
already, because he, from whom we derive our nature, ordained it so;
and because thus made and thus acting, the cause of truth and the
public good is the more surely promoted.
But an attempt has been made to produce an influence of a nature
more stubborn and more unfriendly to truth. It is very unfairly
pretended, that the constitutional right of this house is at stake,
and to be asserted and preserved only by a vote in the negative. We
hear it said that this is a struggle for liberty, a manly resistance
against the design to nullify this assembly and to make it a cipher
in the government; that the President and Senate, the numerous
meetings in the cities, and the influence of the general alarm of
the country, are the agents and instruments of a scheme of coercion
and terror, to force the treaty down our throats, though we loathe
it, and in spite of the clearest convictions of duty and conscience.
It is necessary to pause here and inquire whether suggestions of
this kind be not unfair in their very texture and fabric, and
pernicious in all their influences. They oppose an obstacle in the
path of inquiry, not simply discouraging, but absolutely
insurmountable. They will not yield to argument; for as they were
not reasoned up, they cannot be reasoned down. They are higher than
a Chinese wall in truth's way, and built of materials that are
indestructible. While this remains, it is vain to argue; it is vain
to say to this mountain, Be thou cast into the sea. For, I ask of
the men of knowledge of the world whether they would not hold him
for a blockhead that should hope to prevail in an argument whose
scope and object is to mortify the self-love of the expected
proselyte? I ask, further, when such attempts have been made, have
they not failed of success? The indignant heart repels a conviction
that is believed to debase it.
The self-love of an individual is not warmer in its sense, nor more
constant in its action, than what is called in French, _l'esprit_
_du_ _corps_, or the self-love of an assembly; that jealous
affection which a body of men is always found to bear towards its
own prerogatives and power. I will not condemn this passion. Why
should we urge an unmeaning censure or yield to groundless fears
that truth and duty will be abandoned, because men in a public
assembly are still men, and feel that _esprit_ _du_ _corps_ which is
one of the laws of their nature? Still less should we despond or
complain, if we reflect that this very spirit is a guardian instinct
that watches over the life of this assembly. It cherishes the
principle of self-preservation, and without its existence, and its
existence with all the strength we see it possess, the privileges of
the representatives of the people, and mediately the liberties of
the people, would not be guarded, as they are, with a vigilance that
never sleeps and an unrelaxed constancy and courage. If the
consequences, most unfairly attributed to the vote in the
affirmative, were not chimerical, and worse, for they are deceptive,
I should think it a reproach to be found even moderate in my zeal to
assert the constitutional powers of this assembly; and whenever they
shall be in real danger, the present occasion affords proof that
there will be no want of advocates and champions.
Indeed, so prompt are these feelings, and, when once roused, so
difficult to pacify, that if we could prove the alarm was
groundless, the prejudice against the appropriations may remain on
the mind, and it may even pass for an act of prudence and duty to
negative a measure which was lately believed by ourselves, and may
hereafter be misconceived by others, to encroach upon the powers of
the House. Principles that bear a remote affinity with usurpation
on those powers will be rejected, not merely as errors, but as
wrongs. Our sensibilities will shrink from a post where it is
possible they may be wounded, and be inflamed by the slightest
suspicion of an assault.
While these prepossessions remain, all argument is useless. It may
be heard with the ceremony of attention, and lavish its own
resources, and the patience it wearies, to no manner of purpose. The
ears may be open; but the mind will remain locked up, and every pass
to the understanding guarded.
Unless, therefore, this jealous and repulsive fear for the rights of
the House can be allayed, I will not ask a hearing.
I cannot press this topic too far; I cannot address myself with too
much emphasis to the magnanimity and candor of those who sit here,
to suspect their own feelings, and, while they do, to examine the
grounds of their alarm. I repeat it, we must conquer our persuasion
that this body has an interest in one side of the question more than
the other, before we attempt to surmount our objections. On most
subjects, and solemn ones too, perhaps in the most solemn of all, we
form our creed more from inclination than evidence.
Let me expostulate with gentlemen to admit, if it be only by way of
supposition, and for a moment, that it is barely possible they have
yielded too suddenly to their alarms for the powers of this House;
that the addresses which have been made with such variety of forms
and with so great dexterity in some of them, to all that is
prejudice and passion in the heart, are either the effects or the
instruments of artifice and deception, and then let them see the
subject once more in its singleness and simplicity.
It will be impossible, on taking a fair review of the subject, to
justify the passionate appeals that have been made to us to struggle
for our liberties and rights, and the solemn exhortations to reject
the proposition, said to be concealed in that on your table, to
surrender them forever. In spite of this mock solemnity, I demand,
if the House will not concur in the measure to execute the treaty,
what other course shall we take? How many ways of proceeding lie
open before us?
In the nature of things there are but three; we are either to make
the treaty, to observe it, or break it. It would be absurd to say
we will do neither. If I may repeat a phrase already much abused,
we are under coercion to do one of them; and we have no power, by
the exercise of our discretion, to prevent the consequences of a
choice.
By refusing to act, we choose. The treaty will be broken and fall to
the ground. Where is the fitness, then, of replying to those who
urge upon the House the topics of duty and policy that they attempt
to force the treaty down, and to compel this assembly to renounce
its discretion, and to degrade itself to the rank of a blind and
passive instrument in the hands of the treaty-making power? In case
we reject the appropriation, we do not secure any greater liberty of
action; we gain no safer shelter than before from the consequences
of the decision. Indeed, they are not to be evaded. It is neither
just nor manly to complain that the treaty-making power has produced
this coercion to act. It is not the act or the despotism of that
power--it is the nature of things that compels. Shall we, dreading
to become the blind instruments of power, yield ourselves the
blinder dupes of mere sounds of imposture? Yet that word, that empty
word, coercion, has given scope to an eloquence that, one would
imagine, could not be tired and did not choose to be quieted.
Let us examine still more in detail the alternatives that are before
us, and we shall scarcely fail to see, in still stronger lights, the
futility of our apprehensions for the power and liberty of the
House.
If, as some have suggested, the thing called a treaty is
incomplete,--if it has no binding force or obligation,--the first
question is, Will this House complete the instrument, and, by
concurring, impart to it that force which it wants?
The doctrine has been avowed that the treaty, though formally
ratified by the executive power of both nations, though published as
a law for our own by the President's proclamation, is still a mere
proposition submitted to this assembly, no way distinguishable, in
point of authority or obligation, from a motion for leave to bring
in a bill, or any other original act of ordinary legislation. This
doctrine, so novel in our country, yet so dear to many, precisely
for the reason that, in the contention for power, victory is always
dear, is obviously repugnant to the very terms as well as the fair
interpretation of our own resolutions (Mr. Blount's). We declare
that the treaty-making power is exclusively vested in the President
and Senate, and not in this House. Need I say that we fly in the
face of that resolution when we pretend that the acts of that power
are not valid until we have concurred in them? It would be
nonsense, or worse, to use the language of the most glaring
contradiction, and to claim a share in a power which we at the same
time disdain as exclusively vested in other departments.
What can be more strange than to say that the compacts of the
President and Senate with foreign nations are treaties, without our
agency, and yet those compacts want all power and obligation, until
they are sanctioned by our concurrence? It is not my design, in this
place, if at all, to go into the discussion of this part of the
subject. I will, at least for the present, take it for granted, that
this monstrous opinion stands in little need of remark, and if it
does, lies almost out of the reach of refutation.
But, say those who hide the absurdity under the cover of ambiguous
phrases, Have we no discretion? And if we have, are we not to make
use of it in judging of the expediency or inexpediency of the
treaty? Our resolution claims that privilege, and we cannot
surrender it without equal inconsistency and breach of duty.
If there be any inconsistency in the case, it lies, not in making
the appropriations for the treaty, but in the resolution itself
(Mr. Blount's). Let us examine it more nearly. A treaty is a bargain
between nations, binding in good faith; and what makes a bargain?
The assent of the contracting parties. We allow that the treaty
power is not in this House; this House has no share in contracting,
and is not a party; of consequence, the President and Senate alone
may make a treaty that is binding in good faith. We claim, however,
say the gentlemen, a right to judge of the expediency of treaties;
that is the constitutional province of our discretion. Be it
so. What follows? Treaties, when adjudged by us to be inexpedient,
fall to the ground, and the public faith is not hurt. This,
incredible and extravagant as it may seem, is asserted. The amount
of it, in plainer language, is this--the President and Senate are to
make national bargains, and this House has nothing to do in making
them. But bad bargains do not bind this House, and, of inevitable
consequence, do not bind the nation. When a national bargain, called
a treaty, is made, its binding force does not depend upon the
making, but upon our opinion that it is good. . . .
To expatiate on the value of public faith may pass with some men for
declamation--to such men I have nothing to say. To others I will
urge, Can any circumstance mark upon a people more turpitude and
debasement? Can anything tend more to make men think themselves
mean, or degrade to a lower point their estimation of virtue and
their standard of action?
It would not merely demoralize mankind; it tends to break all the
ligaments of society, to dissolve that mysterious charm which
attracts individuals to the nation, and to inspire in its stead a
repulsive sense of shame and disgust.
What is patriotism? Is it a narrow affection for the spot where a
man was born? Are the very clods where we tread entitled to this
ardent preference because they are greener? No, sir; this is not the
character of the virtue, and it soars higher for its object. It is
an extended self-love, mingling with all the enjoyments of life, and
twisting itself with the minutest filaments of the heart. It is thus
we obey the laws of society, because they are the laws of virtue. In
their authority we see, not the array of force and terror, but the
venerable image of our country's honor. Every good citizen makes
that honor his own, and cherishes it not only as precious, but as
sacred. He is willing to risk his life in its defense, and is
conscious that he gains protection while he gives it. For what
rights of a citizen will be deemed inviolable when a State renounces
the principles that constitute their security? Or, if his life
should not be invaded, what would its enjoyments be in a country
odious in the eyes of strangers and dishonored in his own? Could he
look with affection and veneration to such a country as his parent?
The sense of having one would die within him; he would blush for his
patriotism, if he retained any, and justly, for it would be a
vice. He would be a banished man in his native land.
I see no exception to the respect that is paid among nations to the
law of good faith. If there are cases in this enlightened period
when it is violated, there are none when it is decried. It is the
philosophy of politics, the religion of governments. It is observed
by barbarians--a whiff of tobacco smoke, or a string of beads,
gives not merely binding force, but sanctity to treaties. Even in
Algiers a truce may be bought for money; but, when ratified, even
Algiers is too wise, or too just, to disown and annul its
obligation. Thus, we see neither the ignorance of savages nor the
principles of an association for piracy and rapine, permit a nation
to despise its engagements. If, sir, there could be a resurrection
from the foot of the gallows, if the victims of justice could live
again, collect together and form a society, they would, however
loath, soon find themselves obliged to make justice, that justice
under which they fell, the fundamental law of their state. They
would perceive it was their interest to make others respect, and
they would therefore soon pay some respect themselves to the
obligations of good faith.
It is painful, I hope it is superfluous, to make even the
supposition, that America should furnish the occasion of this
opprobrium. No, let me not even imagine that a republican
government, sprung as our own is, from a people enlightened and
uncorrupted, a government whose origin is right, and whose daily
discipline is duty, can, upon solemn debate, make its option to be
faithless--can dare to act what despots dare not avow, what our
own example evinces, the states of Barbary are unsuspected of. No,
let me rather make the supposition that Great Britain refuses to
execute the treaty, after we have done everything to carry it into
effect. Is there any language of reproach pungent enough to express
your commentary on the fact? What would you say, or rather what
would you not say? Would you not tell them, wherever an Englishman
might travel, shame would stick to him--he would disown his country.
You would exclaim, England, proud of your wealth, and arrogant in
the possession of power--blush for these distinctions, which
become the vehicles of your dishonor. Such a nation might truly say
to corruption, Thou art my father, and to the worm, Thou art my
mother and my sister. We should say of such a race of men, their
name is a heavier burden than their debt.
I can scarcely persuade myself to believe that the consideration I
have suggested requires the aid of any auxiliary. But,
unfortunately, auxiliary arguments are at hand. Five millions of
dollars, and probably more, on the score of spoliations committed on
our commerce, depend upon the treaty. The treaty offers the only
prospect of indemnity. Such redress is promised as the merchants
place some confidence in. Will you interpose and frustrate that
hope, leaving to many families nothing but beggary and despair? It
is a smooth proceeding to take a vote in this body; it takes less
than half an hour to call the yeas and nays and reject the treaty.
But what is the effect of it? What, but this? The very men
formerly so loud for redress, such fierce champions that even to ask
for justice was too mean and too slow, now turn their capricious
fury upon the sufferers and say by their vote, to them and their
families, No longer eat bread; petitioners, go home and starve; we
can not satisfy your wrongs and our resentments.
Will you pay the sufferers out of the treasury? No. The answer was
given two years ago, and appears on our journals. Will you give them
letters of marque and reprisal to pay themselves by force? No; that
is war. Besides, it would be an opportunity for those who have
already lost much to lose more. Will you go to war to avenge their
injury? If you do, the war will leave you no money to indemnify
them. If it should be unsuccessful, you will aggravate existing
evils; if successful, your enemy will have no treasure left to give
our merchants; the first losses will be confounded with much
greater, and be forgotten. At the end of a war there must be a
negotiation, which is the very point we have already gained; and why
relinquish it? And who will be confident that the terms of the
negotiation, after a desolating war, would be more acceptable to
another House of Representatives than the treaty before us? Members
and opinions may be so changed that the treaty would then be
rejected for being what the present majority say it should be.
Whether we shall go on making treaties and refusing to execute them,
I know not. Of this I am certain, it will be very difficult to
exercise the treaty-making power on the new principles, with much
reputation or advantage to the country.
The refusal of the posts (inevitable if we reject the treaty) is a
measure too decisive in its nature to be neutral in its
consequences. From great causes we are to look for great effects. A
plain and obvious one will be the price of the western lands will
fall. Settlers will not choose to fix their habitation on a field of
battle. Those who talk so much of the interest of the United States
should calculate how deeply it will be affected by rejecting the
treaty; how vast a tract of wild land will almost cease to be
property. The loss, let it be observed, will fall upon a fund
expressly devoted to sink the national debt. What, then, are we
called upon to do? However the form of the vote and the
protestations of many may disguise the proceeding, our resolution is
in substance, and it deserves to wear the title of a resolution to
prevent the sale of the western lands and the discharge of the
public debt.
Will the tendency to Indian hostilities be contested by any one?
Experience gives the answer. The frontiers were scourged with war
till the negotiation with Great Britain was far advanced, and then
the state of hostility ceased. Perhaps the public agents of both
nations are innocent of fomenting the Indian war, and perhaps they
are not. We ought not, however, to expect that neighboring nations,
highly irritated against each other, will neglect the friendship of
the savages; the traders will gain an influence and will abuse it;
and who is ignorant that their passions are easily raised, and
hardly restrained from violence? Their situation will oblige them to
choose between this country and Great Britain, in case the treaty
should be rejected. They will not be our friends, and at the same
time the friends of our enemies.
But am I reduced to the necessity of proving this point? Certainly
the very men who charged the Indian war on the detention of the
posts, will call for no other proofs than the recital of their own
speeches. It is remembered with what emphasis, with what acrimony,
they expatiated on the burden of taxes, and the drain of blood and
treasure into the western country, in consequence of Britain's
holding the posts. Until the posts are restored, they exclaimed, the
treasury and the frontiers must bleed.
If any, against all these proofs, should maintain that the peace
with the Indians will be stable without the posts, to them I will
urge another reply. From arguments calculated to produce conviction,
I will appeal directly to the hearts of those who hear me, and ask
whether it is not already planted there. I resort especially to the
convictions of the western gentlemen, whether, supposing no posts
and no treaty, the settlers will remain in security. Can they take
it upon them to say that an Indian peace, under these circumstances,
will prove firm? No, sir; it will not be peace, but a sword; it will
be no better than a lure to draw victims within the reach of the
tomahawk.
On this theme, my emotions are unutterable. If I could find words
for them--if my powers bore any proportion to my zeal--I would
swell my voice to such a note of remonstrance, it should reach every
log house beyond the mountains, I would say to the inhabitants, Wake
from your false security; your cruel dangers, your more cruel
apprehensions, are soon to be renewed; the wounds, yet unhealed, are
to be torn open again; in the daytime, your path through the woods
will be ambushed; the darkness of midnight will glitter with the
blaze of your dwellings. You are a father--the blood of your sons
shall fatten your corn-field; you are a mother--the war-whoop shall
wake the sleep of the cradle.
On this subject you need not suspect any deception on your feelings.
It is a spectacle of horror which can not be overdrawn. If you have
nature in your hearts, it will speak a language compared with which
all I have said or can say will be poor and frigid.
Will it be whispered that the treaty has made a new champion for the
protection of the frontiers? It is known that my voice as well as
vote has been uniformly given in conformity with the ideas I have
expressed. Protection is the right of the frontiers; it is our duty
to give it.
Who will accuse me of wandering out of the subject? Who will say
that I exaggerate the tendencies of our measures? Will any one
answer by a sneer, that all this is idle preaching? Will any one
deny that we are bound, and I would hope to good purpose, by the
most solemn sanctions of duty, for the vote we give? Are despots
alone to be approached for unfeeling indifference to the tears and
blood of their subjects? Are republicans unresponsible? Have the
principles, on which you ground the reproach upon cabinets and
kings, no practical influence, no binding force? Are they merely
themes of idle declamation, introduced to decorate the morality of a
newspaper essay, or to furnish pretty topics of harangue from the
windows of that state house? I trust it is neither too presumptuous
nor too late to ask, Can you put the dearest interest of society at
risk without guilt, and without remorse?
It is vain to offer as an excuse, that public men are not to be
reproached for the evils that may happen to ensue from their
measures. This is very true, where they are unforeseen or
inevitable. Those I have depicted are not unforeseen; they are so
far from inevitable, we are going to bring them into being by our
vote. We choose the consequences, and become as justly answerable
for them as for the measure that we know will produce them.
By rejecting the posts, we light the savage fires--we bind the
victims. This day we undertake to render account to the widows and
orphans whom our decision will make, to the wretches that will be
roasted at the stake, to our country, and I do not deem it too
serious to say, to conscience and to God. We are answerable, and if
duty be anything more than a word of imposture, if conscience be not
a bugbear, we are preparing to make ourselves as wretched as our
country.
There is no mistake in this case; there can be none. Experience has
already been the prophet of events, and the cries of our future
victims have already reached us. The western inhabitants are not a
silent and uncomplaining sacrifice. The voice of humanity issues
from the shade of their wilderness. It exclaims, that while one hand
is held up to reject this treaty, the other grasps a tomahawk. It
summons our imagination to the scenes that will open. It is no great
effort to the imagination to conceive that events so near are
already begun. I can fancy that I listen to the yells of savage
vengeance and the shrieks of torture. Already they seem to sigh in
the west wind--already they mingle with every echo from the
mountains.
It is not the part of prudence to be inattentive to the tendencies
of measures. Where there is any ground to fear that these will be
pernicious, wisdom and duty forbid that we should underrate them. If
we reject the treaty, will our peace be as safe as if we executed it
with good faith? I do honor to the intrepid spirit of those who say
it will. It was formerly understood to constitute the excellence of
a man's faith to believe without evidence and against it.
But as opinions on this article are changed, and we are called to
act for our country, it becomes us to explore the dangers that will
attend its peace, and to avoid them if we can.
Few of us here, and fewer still in proportion of our constituents,
will doubt that, by rejecting, all those dangers will be
aggravated. . . .
ST. ANSELM (1032-1109)
St. Anselm, who has been called the acutest thinker and profoundest
theologian of his day, was born in Piedmont about 1032. Educated
under the celebrated Lanfranc, he went to England in 1093 and became
Archbishop of Canterbury. He was banished by William Rufus as a
result of a conflict between royal and ecclesiastical prerogative.
He died in 1109. Neale calls him the last of the great fathers
except St. Bernard, and adds that "he probably possessed the
greatest genius of all except St. Augustine."
The sermon here given, the third of the sixteen extant, is given
entire from Neale's translation. It is one of the best examples of
the Middle-Age style of interpreting all Scripture as metaphor and
parable. It contains, moreover, a number of striking passages, such
as, "It is a proof of great virtue to struggle with happiness."
THE SEA OP LIFE
"And straightway Jesus constrained his disciples to get into a ship,
and to go before him to the other side, while he sent the multitude
away." (Matt, xiv, 22.)
In this section, according to its mystical interpretation, we have a
summary description of the state of the Church, from the coming of
the Savior to the end of the world. For the Lord constrained his
Disciples to get into a ship, when he committed the Church to the
government of the Apostles and their followers. And thus to go
before him unto the other side,--that is, to bear onwards towards
the haven of the celestial country, before he himself should
entirely depart from the world. For, with his elect, and on account
of his elect, he ever remains here until the consummation of all
things; and he is preceded to the other side of the sea of this
world by those who daily pass hence to the Land of the Living. And
when he shall have sent all that are his to that place, then,
leaving the multitude of the reprobate, and no longer warning them
to be converted, but giving them over to perdition, he will depart
hence that he may be with his elect alone in the kingdom.
Whence it is added, "while he sent the multitude away." For in the
end of the world he will "send away the multitude" of his enemies,
that they may then be hurried by the Devil to everlasting
vdamnation. "And when he had sent the multitude away, he went up in a
mountain to pray." He will not send away the multitude of the
Gentiles till the end of the world; but he did dismiss the multitude
of the Jewish people at the time when, as saith Isaiah, "He
commanded his clouds that they should rain no rain upon it"; that
is, he commanded his Apostles that they should preach no longer to
the Jews, but should go to the Gentiles. Thus, therefore, he sent
away that multitude, and "went up into a mountain"; that is, to the
height of the celestial kingdom, of which it had been written, "Who
shall ascend into the hill of the Lord, or who shall rise up in his
holy place?" For a mountain is a height, and what is higher than
heaven? There the Lord ascended. And he ascended alone, "for no man
hath ascended up into heaven save he that came down from heaven,
even the Son of Man which is in heaven." And even when he shall come
at the end of the world, and shall have collected all of us, his
members, together, and shall have raised us into heaven, he will
also ascend alone, because Christ, the head, is one with his
body. But now the Head alone ascends,--the Mediator of God and man
--the man Christ Jesus. And he goes up to pray, because he went to
the Father to intercede for us. "For Christ is not entered into
holy places made with hands, which are figures of the true, but into
heaven itself, now to appear in the presence of God for us."
It follows: "And when the evening was come, he was there alone."
This signifies the nearness of the end of the world, concerning
which John also speaks: "Little children, it is the last time."
Therefore it is said that, "when the evening was come, he was there
alone," because, when the world was drawing to its end, he by
himself, as the true high priest, entered into the holy of holies,
and is there at the right hand of God, and also maketh intercession
for us. But while he prays on the mountain, the ship is tossed with
waves in the deep. For, since the billows arise, the ship may be
tossed; but since Christ prays, it cannot be overwhelmed. ...
We may notice, also, that this commotion of the waves, and tottering
or half-sinking of Peter, takes place even in our time, according to
the spiritual sense daily. For every man's own besetting sin is the
tempest. You love God; you walk upon the sea; the swellings of this
world are under your feet. You love the world; it swallows you up;
its wont is to devour, not to bear up, its lovers. But when your
heart fluctuates with the desire of sin, call on the divinity of
Christ, that you may conquer that desire. You think that the wind is
then contrary when the adversity of this world rises against you,
and not also when its prosperity fawns upon you. For when wars, when
tumults, when famine, when pestilence comes, when any private
calamity happens even to individual men, then the wind is thought
adverse, and then it is held right to call upon God; but when the
world smiles with temporal felicity, then, forsooth, the wind is not
contrary. Do not, by such tokens as these, judge of the tranquillity
of the time; but judge of it by your own temptations. See if you are
tranquil within yourself; see if no internal tempest is overwhelming
you. It is a proof of great virtue to struggle with happiness, so
that it shall not seduce, corrupt, subvert. Learn to trample on this
world; remember to trust in Christ. And if your foot be moved,--if
you totter,--if there be some temptations that you cannot
overcome,--if you begin to sink, cry out to Jesus, Lord, save
me. In Peter, therefore, the common condition of all of us is to be
considered; so that, if the wind of temptation endeavor to upset us
in any matter, or its billows to swallow us up, we may cry to
Christ. He shall stretch forth his hand, and preserve us from the
deep.
It follows: "And when he was come into the ship, the wind ceased."
In the last day he shall ascend into the ship of the Church, because
then he shall sit upon the throne of his glory; which throne may not
unfitly be understood of the Church. For he who by faith and good
works now and always dwells in the Church shall then, by the
manifestation of his glory, enter into it. And then the wind shall
cease, because evil spirits shall no more have the power of sending
forth against it the flames of temptation or the commotions of
troubles; for then all things shall be at peace and at rest.
It follows: "Then they that were with him in the ship came and
worshipped him, saying, Of a truth thou art the Son of God." They
who remain faithfully in the Church amidst the tempests of
temptations will approach to him with joy, and, entering into his
kingdom with him, will worship him; and, praising him perpetually,
will affirm him of a truth to be the Son of God. Then, also, that
will happen which is written concerning the elect raised from death:
"All flesh shall come and shall worship before my face," saith the
Lord. And again: "Blessed are they that dwell in thy house; they
will always be praising thee." For him, whom with their heart they
believe unto righteousness, and with their mouth confess to
salvation, him they shall see with their heart to light, and with
their mouth shall praise to glory, when they behold how ineffably he
is begotten of the Father, with whom he liveth and reigneth, in the
unity of the Holy Ghost, God to all ages of ages. Amen.
THOMAS ARNOLD (1795-1842)
Doctor Thomas Arnold, the celebrated head master of Rugby was born
June 13th, 1795, at West Cowes, in the Isle of Wight, where his
father, William Arnold, was a Collector of Customs. After several
years at Winchester school, he went to Oxford where in 1815 he was
elected a fellow of Oriel College. His intellectual bent showed at
Oxford, on the one hand, in fondness for Aristotle and Thucydides,
and on the other in what one of his friends has described as "an
earnest, penetrating, and honest examination of Christianity." As a
result of this honesty and earnestness, he became and remains a
great force wherever English is spoken. Elected head master of Rugby
in December 1827, and remaining in charge of that school for nearly
fourteen years, he almost revolutionized and did much to civilize
the English system of public education. When he left Rugby, in
December 1841, it was to go to Oxford as professor of Modern
History, but his death, June 12th, 1842, left him remembered by the
English-speaking world as "Arnold of Rugby." He left five volumes of
sermons, an edition of 'Thucydides,' a 'History of Rome' in three
volumes, and other works, but his greatest celebrity has been given
him by the enthusiastic love which his manly Christian character
inspired in his pupils and acquaintances, furnishing as it did the
master motive of 'Tom Brown at Rugby,' a book which is likely to
hold the place it has taken next to 'Robinson Crusoe' among English
classics for the young.
The sermon here republished from the text given in 'Simons's Sermons
of Great Preachers,' is an illustration of the eloquence which
appeals to the mind of others, not through musical and beautiful
language so much as through deep thought and compact expression.
THE REALITIES OF LIFE AND DEATH
"God is not the God of the dead, but of the living."--Matt. xxii. 32
We hear these words as a part of our Lord's answer to the Sadducees;
and, as their question was put in evident profaneness, and the
answer to it is one which to our minds is quite obvious and natural,
so we are apt to think that in this particular story there is less
than usual that particularly concerns us. But it so happens, that
our Lord, in answering the Sadducees, has brought in one of the most
universal and most solemn of all truths,--which is indeed implied
in many parts of the Old Testament, but which the Gospel has
revealed to us in all its fullness,--the truth contained in the
words of the text, that "God is not the God of the dead, but of the
living."
I would wish to unfold a little what is contained in these words,
which we often hear even, perhaps, without quite understanding them;
and many times oftener without fully entering into them. And we may
take them, first, in their first part, where they say that "God is
not the God of the dead."
The word "dead," we know, is constantly used in Scripture in a
double sense, as meaning those who are dead spiritually, as well as
those who are dead naturally. And, in either sense, the words are
alike applicable: "God is not the God of the dead."
God's not being the God of the dead signifies two things: that they
who are without him are dead, as well as that they who are dead are
also without him. So far as our knowledge goes respecting inferior
animals, they appear to be examples of this truth. They appear to
us to have no knowledge of God; and we are not told that they have
any other life than the short one of which our senses inform us. I
am well aware that our ignorance of their condition is so great that
we may not dare to say anything of them positively; there may be a
hundred things true respecting them which we neither know nor
imagine. I would only say that, according to that most imperfect
light in which we see them, the two points of which I have been
speaking appear to meet in them: we believe that they have no
consciousness of God, and we believe that they will die. And so
far, therefore, they afford an example of the agreement, if I may so
speak, between these two points; and were intended, perhaps, to be
to our view a continual image of it. But we had far better speak of
ourselves. And here, too, it is the case that "God is not the God
of the dead." If we are without him we are dead; and if we are dead
we are without him: in other words, the two ideas of death and
absence from God are in fact synonymous.
Thus, in the account given of the fall of man, the sentence of death
and of being cast out of Eden go together; and if any one compares
the description of the second Eden in the Revelation, and recollects
how especially it is there said, that God dwells in the midst of it,
and is its light by day and night, he will see that the banishment
from the first Eden means a banishment from the presence of God.
And thus, in the day that Adam sinned, he died; for he was cast out
of Eden immediately, however long he may have moved about afterwards
upon the earth where God was not. And how very strong to the same
point are the words of Hezekiah's prayer, "The grave cannot praise
thee, Death cannot celebrate thee; they that go down into the pit
cannot hope for thy truth"; words which express completely the
feeling that God is not the God of the dead. This, too, appears to
be the sense generally of the expression used in various parts of
the Old Testament, "Thou shalt surely die." It is, no doubt, left
purposely obscure; nor are we ever told, in so many words, all that
is meant by death; but, surely, it always implies a separation from
God, and the being--whatever the notion may extend to--the being
dead to him. Thus, when David had committed his great sin, and had
expressed his repentance for it, Nathan tells him, "The Lord also
hath put away thy sin; thou shalt not die": which means, most
expressively, thou shalt not die to God. In one sense David died,
as all men die; nor was he by any means freed from the punishment of
his sin: he was not, in that sense, forgiven; but he was allowed
still to regard God as his God; and, therefore, his punishments were
but fatherly chastisements from God's hand, designed for his profit,
that he might be partaker of God's holiness. And thus, although
Saul was sentenced to lose his kingdom, and although he was killed
with his sons on Mount Gilboa, yet I do not think that we find the
sentence passed upon him, "Thou shalt surely die;" and, therefore,
we have no right to say that God had ceased to be his God, although
he visited him with severe chastisements, and would not allow him to
hand down to his sons the crown of Israel. Observe, also, the
language of the eighteenth chapter of Ezekiel, where the expressions
occur so often, "He shall surely live," and "He shall surely die."
We have no right to refer these to a mere extension on the one hand,
or a cutting short on the other, of the term of earthly existence.
The promise of living long in the land, or, as in Hezekiah's case,
of adding to his days fifteen years, is very different from the full
and unreserved blessing, "Thou shalt surely live." And we know,
undoubtedly, that both the good and the bad to whom Ezekiel spoke
died alike the natural death of the body. But the peculiar force of
the promise, and of the threat, was, in the one case, Thou shalt
belong to God; in the other, Thou shalt cease to belong to him;
although the veil was not yet drawn up which concealed the full
import of those terms, "belonging to God," and "ceasing to belong to
him": nay, can we venture to affirm that it is fully drawn aside
even now?
I have dwelt on this at some length, because it really seems to
place the common state of the minds of too many amongst us in a
light which is exceedingly awful; for if it be true, as I think the
Scripture implies, that to be dead, and to be without God, are
precisely the same thing, then can it be denied that the symptoms of
death are strongly marked upon many of us? Are there not many who
never think of God or care about his service? Are there not many who
live, to all appearances, as unconscious of his existence as we
fancy the inferior animals to be? And is it not quite clear, that to
such persons, God cannot be said to be their God? He may be the God
of heaven and earth, the God of the universe, the God of Christ's
Church; but he is not their God, for they feel to have nothing at
all to do with him; and, therefore, as he is not their God, they
are, and must be, according to the Scripture, reckoned among the
dead.
But God is the God "of the living." That is, as before, all who are
alive, live unto him; all who live unto him are alive. "God said, I
am the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob;"
and, therefore, says our Lord, "Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob are
not and cannot be dead." They cannot be dead because God owns them;
he is not ashamed to be called their God; therefore, they are not
cast out from him; therefore, by necessity, they live. Wonderful,
indeed, is the truth here implied, in exact agreement, as we have
seen, with the general language of Scripture; that, as she who but
touched the hem of Christ's garment was, in a moment, relieved from
her infirmity, so great was the virtue which went out from him; so
they who are not cast out from God, but have anything: whatever to
do with him, feel the virtue of his gracious presence penetrating
their whole nature; because he lives, they must live also.
Behold, then, life and death set before us; not remote (if a few
years be, indeed, to be called remote), but even now present before
us; even now suffered or enjoyed. Even now we are alive unto God or
dead unto God; and, as we are either the one or the other, so we
are, in the highest possible sense of the terms, alive or dead. In
the highest possible sense of the terms; but who can tell what that
highest possible sense of the terms is? So much has, indeed, been
revealed to us, that we know now that death means a conscious and
perpetual death, as life means a conscious and perpetual life. But
greatly, indeed, do we deceive ourselves, if we fancy that, by
having thus much told us, we have also risen to the infinite
heights, or descended to the infinite depths, contained in those
little words, life and death. They are far higher, and far deeper,
than ever thought or fancy of man has reached to. But, even on the
first edge of either, at the visible beginnings of that infinite
ascent or descent, there is surely something which may give us a
foretaste of what is beyond. Even to us in this mortal state, even
to you advanced but so short a way on your very earthly journey,
life and death have a meaning: to be dead unto God or to be alive to
him, are things perceptibly different.
For, let me ask of those who think least of God, who are most
separate from him, and most without him, whether there is not now
actually, perceptibly, in their state, something of the coldness,
the loneliness, the fearfulness of death? I do not ask them whether
they are made unhappy by the fear of God's anger; of course they are
not: for they who fear God are not dead to him, nor he to them. The
thought of him gives them no disquiet at all; this is the very point
we start from. But I would ask them whether they know what it is to
feel God's blessing, For instance: we all of us have our troubles of
some sort or other, our disappointments, if not our sorrows. In
these troubles, in these disappointments,--I care not how small they
may be,--have they known what it is to feel that God's hand is over
them; that these little annoyances are but his fatherly correction;
that he is all the time loving us, and supporting us? In seasons of
joy, such as they taste very often, have they known what it is to
feel that they are tasting the kindness of their heavenly Father,
that their good things come from his hand, and are but an infinitely
slight foretaste of his love? Sickness, danger,--I know that they
come to many of us but rarely; but if we have known them, or at
least sickness, even in its lighter form, if not in its graver,--
have we felt what it is to know that we are in our Father's hands,
that he is with us, and will be with us to the end; that nothing can
hurt those whom he loves? Surely, then, if we have never tasted
anything of this: if in trouble, or in joy, or in sickness, we are
left wholly to ourselves, to bear as we can, and enjoy as we can; if
there is no voice that ever speaks out of the heights and the depths
around us, to give any answer to our own; if we are thus left to
ourselves in this vast world,--there is in this a coldness and a
loneliness; and whenever we come to be, of necessity, driven to be
with our own hearts alone, the coldness and the loneliness must be
felt. But consider that the things which we see around us cannot
remain with us, nor we with them. The coldness and loneliness of the
world, without God, must be felt more and more as life wears on: in
every change of our own state, in every separation from or loss of a
friend, in every more sensible weakness of our own bodies, in every
additional experience of the uncertainty of our own counsels,--the
deathlike feeling will come upon us more and more strongly: we shall
gain more of that fearful knowledge which tells us that "God is not
the God of the dead."
And so, also, the blessed knowledge that he is the God "of the
living" grows upon those who are truly alive. Surely he "is not far
from every one of us." No occasion of life fails to remind those who
live unto him, that he is their God, and that they are his children.
On light occasions or on grave ones, in sorrow and in joy, still the
warmth of his love is spread, as it were, all through the atmosphere
of their lives: they for ever feel his blessing. And if it fills
them with joy unspeakable even now, when they so often feel how
little they deserve it; if they delight still in being with God, and
in living to him, let them be sure that they have in themselves the
unerring witness of life eternal:--God is the God of the living,
and all who are with him must live.
Hard it is, I well know, to bring this home, in any degree, to the
minds of those who are dead: for it is of the very nature of the
dead that they can hear no words of life. But it has happened that,
even whilst writing what I have just been uttering to you, the news
reached me that one, who two months ago was one of your number, who
this very half-year has shared in all the business and amusements of
this place, is passed already into that state where the meanings of
the terms life and death are become fully revealed. He knows what
it is to live unto God and what it is to die to him. Those things
which are to us unfathomable mysteries, are to him all plain: and
yet but two months ago he might have thought himself as far from
attaining this knowledge as any of us can do. Wherefore it is
clear, that these things, life and death, may hurry their lesson
upon us sooner than we deem of, sooner than we are prepared to
receive it. And that were indeed awful, if, being dead to God, and
yet little feeling it, because of the enjoyments of our worldly life
these enjoyments were of a sudden to be struck away from us, and we
should find then that to be dead to God is death indeed, a death
from which there is no waking and in which there is no sleeping
forever.
CHESTER ALAN ARTHUR (1830-1886)
If "Eloquence consists in saying all that is necessary and no more."
President Arthur's inaugural address is one of its best examples. He
was placed in a position of the gravest difficulty. He had been
nominated for Vice-President as a representative of the "Stalwart"
Republicans when that element of the party had been defeated in
National convention by the element then described as "Half-Breeds."
After the assassination of President Garfield by the "paranoiac"
Guiteau, the country waited with breathless interest to hear what
the Vice-President would say in taking the Presidency. With a tact
which amounted to genius, which never failed him during his
administration, which in its results showed itself equivalent to the
highest statesmanship, Mr. Arthur, a man to whom his opponents had
been unwilling to concede more than mediocre abilities, rose to the
occasion, disarmed factional oppositions, mitigated the animosity of
partisanship, and during his administration did more than had been
done before him to re-unite the sections divided by Civil War.
He was born in Fairfield, Vermont, October 5th, 1830. His father,
Rev. William Arthur, a Baptist clergyman, born in Ireland, gave him
a good education, sending him to Union College where he graduated in
1848. After teaching school in Vermont, he studied law and began
practice in New York city. Entering politics as a Henry Clay Whig,
and casting his first vote in 1852 for Winfield Scott, he was active
as a Republican in the Fremont campaign of 1856 and from that time
until elected to the Vice-Presidency took that strong interest in
public affairs which led his opponents to class him as a
"professional politician." During the Civil War he was
inspector-general and quarter-master general of New York troops. In
1871 President Grant appointed him collector of the port of New York
and he held the office until July 1878. when he was suspended by
President Hayes. Taking an active part in the movement to nominate
General Grant for the Presidency to succeed Mr. Hayes. he attended
the Republican convention of 1880, and after the defeat of the Grant
forces, he was nominated as their representative for the
Vice-Presidency. He died suddenly in New York city, November 18th,
1886, having won for himself during his administration as President
the good-will of so many of his political opponents that the future
historian will probably study his administration as that during
which the most notable changes of the decade were made from the
politics of the Civil War period.
INAUGURAL ADDRESS (Delivered September 22d, 1881)
For the fourth time in the history of the Republic its chief
magistrate has been removed by death. All hearts are filled with
grief and horror at the hideous crime which has darkened our land,
and the memory of the murdered President, his protracted sufferings,
his unyielding fortitude, the example and achievements of his life
and the pathos of his death will forever illumine the pages of our
history.
For the fourth time, the officer elected by the people and ordained
by the constitution to fill a vacancy so created, is called to
assume the executive chair. The wisdom of our fathers, foreseeing
even the most dire possibilities, made sure that the government
should never be imperiled because of the uncertainty of human
life. Men may die but the fabric of our free institutions remains
unshaken. No higher or more assuring proof could exist of the
strength and permanence of popular government than the fact that
though the chosen of the people be struck down, his constitutional
successor is peacefully installed without shock or strain except
that of the sorrow which mourns the bereavement. All the noble
aspirations of my lamented predecessor, which found expression
during his life, the measures devised and suggested during his brief
administration to correct abuses, to enforce economy, to advance
prosperity, to promote the general welfare, to insure domestic
security and maintain friendly and honorable relations with the
nations of the earth, will be garnered in the hearts of the people
and it will be my earnest endeavor to profit and to see that the
nation shall profit by his example and experience.
Prosperity blesses our country. Our fiscal policy as fixed by law
is well-grounded and generally approved. No threatening issue mars
our foreign intercourse and the wisdom, integrity, and thrift of our
people may be trusted to continue undisturbed the present career of
peace, tranquillity, and welfare. The gloom and anxiety which have
enshrouded the country must make repose especially welcome now. No
demand for speedy legislation has been heard; no adequate occasion
is apparent for an unusual session of Congress. The constitution
defines the functions and powers of the executive as clearly as
those of either of the other two departments of the government, and
he must answer for the just exercise of the discretion it permits
and the performance of the duties it imposes. Summoned to these
high duties and responsibilities, and profoundly conscious of their
magnitude and gravity, I assume the trust imposed by the
constitution, relying for aid on divine guidance and on the virtue,
patriotism, and intelligence of the American people.
ATHANASIUS (298-373)
Athanasius, patriarch of Alexandria, owes his great celebrity
chiefly to the controversy with the Arians, in which for half a
century he was at the head of the orthodox party in the Church. He
was born at Alexandria in the year 298, and was ordained a priest at
the age of twenty-one. He accompanied his bishop, Alexander, to the
Council of Nice in 325, and when under thirty years old succeeded to
the bishopric, on the death of Alexander, His success in the Arian
controversy was not achieved without cost, since, as an incident of
it, he spent twenty years in banishment. His admirers credit him
with "a deep mind, invincible courage, and living faith," but as his
orations and discourses were largely controversial, the interest
which now attaches to them is chiefly historical. The following was
preached from the seventh and eighth verses of the Forty-Fifth
Psalm.
THE DIVINITY OF CHRIST
Behold, O ye Arians, and acknowledge hence the truth. The Psalmist
speaks of us all as fellows or partakers of the Lord, but were he
one of things which come out of nothing and of things generated he
himself had been one of those who partake. But since he hymned him
as the eternal God, saying, "Thy throne, O God, is forever and
ever," and has declared that all other things partake of him, what
conclusion must we draw, but that he is distinct from generated
things, and he only the Father's veritable word, radiance, and
wisdom, which all things generate partake, being sanctified by him
in the Spirit? And, therefore, he is here "anointed," not that he
may become God, for he was so even before; nor that he may become
king, for he had the kingdom eternally, existing as God's image, as
the sacred oracle shows; but in our behalf is this written, as
before. For the Israelitish kings, upon their being anointed, then
became kings, not being so before, as David, as Ezekias, as Josias,
and the rest; but the Savior, on the contrary, being God, and ever
ruling in the Father's kingdom, and being himself the Dispenser of
the Holy Ghost, nevertheless is here said to be anointed, that, as
before, being said as man to be anointed with the Spirit, he might
provide for us more, not only exaltation and resurrection, but the
indwelling and intimacy of the Spirit. And signifying this, the Lord
himself hath said by his own mouth, in the Gospel according to
John: "I have sent them into the world, and for their sakes do I
sanctify myself, that they may be sanctified in the truth." In
saying this, he has shown that he is not the sanctified, but the
Sanctifier; for he is not sanctified by other, but himself
sanctifies himself, that we may be sanctified in the truth. He who
sanctifies himself is Lord of sanctification. How, then, does this
take place? What does he mean but this? "I, being the Father's Word,
I give to myself, when become man, the Spirit; and myself, become
man, do I sanctify in him, that henceforth in me, who am truth (for
'Thy Word is Truth'), all may be sanctified."
If, then, for our sake, he sanctifies himself, and does this when he
becomes man, it is very plain that the Spirit's descent on him in
Jordan was a descent upon us, because of his bearing our body. And
it did not take place for promotion to the Word, but again for our
sanctification, that we might share his anointing, and of us it
might be said, Know ye not that ye are God's temple, and the Spirit
of God dwelleth in you? For when the Lord, as man, was washed in
Jordan, it was we who were washed in him and by him. And when he
received the Spirit, we it was who, by him, were made recipients of
it. And, moreover, for this reason, not as Aaron, or David, or the
rest, was he anointed with oil, but in another way, above all his
fellows, "with the oil of gladness," which he himself interprets to
be the Spirit, saying by the prophet, "The Spirit of the Lord is
upon me, because the Lord hath anointed me"; as also the Apostle has
said, "How God anointed him with the Holy Ghost." When, then, were
these things spoken of him, but when he came in the flesh, and was
baptized in Jordan, and the spirit descended on him? And, indeed,
the Lord himself said, "The Spirit shall take of mine," and "I will
send him"; and to his Disciples, "Receive ye the Holy Ghost." And,
notwithstanding, he who, as the word and radiance of the Father,
gives to others, now is said to be sanctified, because now he has
become Man, and the Body that is sanctified is his. From him, then,
we have begun to receive the unction and the seal, John saying, "And
ye have an unction from the Holy One"; and the Apostle, "And ye were
sealed with the Holy Spirit of promise." Therefore, because of us,
and for us, are these words. What advance, then, of promotion, and
reward of virtue, or generally of conduct, is proved from this in
our Lord's instance? For if he was not God, and then had become
God--if, not being king, he was preferred to the kingdom, your
reasoning would have had some faint plausibility. But if he is God,
and the throne of his kingdom is everlasting, in what way could God
advance? Or what was there wanting to him who was sitting on his
Father's throne? And if, as the Lord himself has said, the Spirit
is his, and takes of his, and he sends it, it is not the Word,
considered as the Word and Wisdom, who is anointed with the Spirit,
which he himself gives, but the flesh assumed by him, which is
anointed in him and by him; that the sanctification coming to the
Lord as man, may come to all men from him. For, not of itself,
saith he, doth the Spirit speak, but the word is he who gives it to
the worthy. For this is like the passage considered above; for, as
the Apostle hath written, "Who, existing in form of God, thought it
not robbery to be equal with God, but humbled himself, and took a
servant's form," so David celebrates the Lord, as the everlasting
God and king, but sent to us, and assuming our body, which is
mortal. For this is his meaning in the Psalm, "All thy garments
smell of myrrh, aloes, and cassia"; and it is represented by
Nicodemus's and by Mary's company, when he came, bringing a mixture
of myrrh and aloes, about an hundred pounds weight; and they took
the spices which they had prepared for the burial of the Lord's
body.
What advancement, then, was it to the Immortal to have assumed the
mortal? Or what promotion is it to the Everlasting to have put on
the temporal? What reward can be great to the Everlasting God and
King, in the bosom of the Father? See ye not, that this, too, was
done and written because of us and for us, that us who are mortal
and temporal, the Lord, become man, might mate immortal, and bring
into the everlasting kingdom of heaven? Blush ye not, speaking lies
against the divine oracles? For when our Lord Jesus Christ had been
among us, we, indeed, were promoted, as rescued from sin; but he is
the same, nor did he alter when he became man (to repeat what I have
said), but, as has been written, "The word of God abideth forever."
Surely as, before his becoming man, he, the Word, dispensed to the
saints the Spirit as his own; so also, when made man, be sanctifies
all by the Spirit, and says to his Disciples, "Receive ye the Holy
Ghost." And he gave to Moses and the other seventy; and through him
David prayed to the Father, saying, "Take not thy Holy Spirit from
me." On the other hand, when made man, he said, "I will send to you
the Paraclete, the Spirit of Truth"; and he sent him, he, the Word
of God, as being faithful.
Therefore "Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever,"
remaining unalterable, and at once gives and receives, giving as
God's Word, receiving as man. It is not the Word then, viewed as the
Word, that is promoted,--for he had all things and has had them
always,--but men, who have in him and through him their origin of
receiving them. For, when he is now said to be anointed in a human
respect, we it is who in him are anointed; since also, when he is
baptized, we it is who in him are baptized. But on all these things
the Savior throws much light, when he says to the Father, "And the
glory which thou gavest me, I have given to them, that they may be
one, even as we are one." Because of us, then, he asked for glory,
and the words occur, "took" and "gave" and "highly exalted," that we
might take, and to us might be given, and we might be exalted, in
him; as also for us he sanctifies himself, that we might be
sanctified in him.
But if they take advantage of the word "wherefore," as connected
with the passage in the Psalm, "Wherefore God, even thy God, hath
anointed thee," for their own purposes, let these novices in
Scripture and masters in irreligion know that, as before, the word
"wherefore" does not imply reward of virtue or conduct in the Word,
but the reason why he came down to us, and of the Spirit's
anointing, which took place in him for our sakes. For he says not,
"Wherefore he anointed thee in order to thy being God or King or Son
or Word,"--for so he was before, and is forever, as has been
shown,--but rather, "Since thou art God and king, therefore thou
wast anointed, since none but thou couldst unite man to the Holy
Ghost, thou the image of the Father, in which we were made in the
beginning; for thine is even the Spirit," For the nature of things
generate could give no warranty for this, angels having
transgressed, and men disobeyed. Wherefore there was need of God;
and the Word is God; that those who had become under a curse, he
himself might set free. If then he was of nothing, he would not
have been the Christ or Anointed, being one among others and having
fellowship as the rest. But, whereas he is God, as being the Son of
God, and is everlasting King, and exists as radiance and expression
of the Father, wherefore fitly is he the expected Christ, whom the
Father announces to mankind, by revelation to his holy prophets;
that as through him we have come to be, so also in him all men might
be redeemed from their sins, and by him all things might be ruled.
And this is the cause of the anointing which took place in him, and
of the incarnate presence of the Word; which the Psalmist
foreseeing, celebrates, first his Godhead and kingdom, which is the
Father's, in these tones, "Thy throne, O God, is forever and ever; a
sceptre of righteousness is the sceptre of thy kingdom"; then
announces his descent to us thus: "Wherefore God, even thy God, hath
anointed thee with the oil of gladness above thy fellows."
SAINT AUGUSTINE (354-430)
Saint Augustine who is always classed as one of the four great Latin
fathers is generally conceded to be chief among them in natural
strength of intellect. Saint Jerome, who excelled him in knowledge
of classical literature, is his inferior in intellectual acuteness;
and certainly no other theologian of the earlier ages of the Church
has done so much as has Saint Augustine to influence the thought of
its strongest minds.
Augustine (Aurelius Augustinus) was a Numidian by birth. He had a
Christian mother, whose devotion resulted in his conversion, as well
as in that of his father, who seems to have been a man of liberal
mind, aware of the value of literary education. Augustine was well
versed in the Latin classics. The extent of his knowledge of Greek
literature has been questioned, but it is conceded that he knew the
language, at least well enough for purposes of comparative study of
the Scripture text.
As a young man, his ideas of morality, as we know from his
'Confessions,' were not severe. He was not extraordinarily
licentious, but he had the introspective sensitiveness which seems
to characterize great genius wherever it is found, and in his later
life he looked with acute pain on the follies of his youth.
Becoming a Christian at the age of twenty-three, he was ordained a
priest four years later, and in 395 became Bishop of Hippo. Of his
literary works, his book 'The City of God' is accounted his masterpiece,
though it is not so generally read as his 'Confessions.' The sermon
on the Lord's Prayer here given as an illustration of his style in
the pulpit, is from his 'Homilies on the New Testament,' as
translated in Parker's 'Library of the Fathers.'
THE LORD'S PRAYER
The order established for your edification requires that ye learn
first what to believe, and afterwards what to ask. For so saith the
Apostle, "Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be
saved." This testimony blessed Paul cited out of the Prophet; for by
the Prophet were those times foretold, when all men should call upon
God; "Whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be
saved." And he added, "How then shall they call on him in whom they
have not believed? And how shall they believe in him of whom they
have not heard? Or how shall they hear without a preacher? Or how
shall they preach except they be sent?" Therefore were preachers
sent. They preached Christ. As they preached, the people heard; by
hearing they believed, and by believing called upon him. Because
then it was most rightly and most truly said, "How shall they call
on him in whom they have not believed?" therefore have ye first
learned what to believe: and to-day have learned to call on him in
whom ye have believed.
The Son of God, our Lord Jesus Christ, hath taught us a prayer; and
though he be the Lord himself, as ye have heard and repeated in the
Creed, the Only Son of God, yet he would not be alone. He is the
Only Son, and yet would not be alone; he hath vouchsafed to have
brethren. For to whom doth he say, "Say, Our Father, which art in
heaven?" Whom did he wish us to call our father, save his own
father? Did he grudge us this? Parents sometimes when they have
gotten one, or two, or three children, fear to give birth to any
more, lest they reduce the rest to beggary. But because the
inheritance which he promised us is such as many may possess, and no
one be straitened, therefore hath he called into his brotherhood the
peoples of the nations; and the only son hath numberless brethren,
who say, "Our Father, which art in heaven." So said they who have
been before us; and so shall say those who will come after us. See
how many brethren the only son hath in his grace, sharing his
inheritance with those for whom he suffered death. We had a father
and mother on earth, that we might be born to labors and to death;
but we have found other parents, God our father and the Church our
mother, by whom we are born unto life eternal. Let us then consider,
beloved, whose children we have begun to be; and let us live so as
becomes those who have such a father. See, how that our Creator hath
condescended to be our Father.
We have heard whom we ought to call upon, and with what hope of an
eternal inheritance we have begun to have a father in heaven; let us
now hear what we must ask of him. Of such a father what shall we
ask? Do we not ask rain of him, to-day, and yesterday, and the day
before? This is no great thing to have asked of such a father, and
yet ye see with what sighings, and with what great desire we ask for
rain, when death is feared,--when that is feared which none can
escape. For sooner or later every man must die, and we groan, and
pray, and travail in pain, and cry to God, that we may die a little
later, How much more ought we to cry to him, that we may come to
that place where we shall never die!
Therefore it is said, "Hallowed be thy name." This we also ask of
him that his name may be hallowed in us; for holy is it always. And
how is his name hallowed in us, except while it makes us holy? For
once we were not holy, and we are made holy by his name; but he is
always holy, and his name always holy. It is for ourselves, not for
God, that we pray. For we do not wish well to God, to whom no ill
can ever happen. But we wish what is good for ourselves, that his
holy name may be hallowed, that that which is always holy, may be
hallowed in us.
"Thy kingdom come." Come it surely will, whether we ask or no.
Indeed, God hath an eternal kingdom. For when did he not reign?
When did he begin to reign? For his kingdom hath no beginning,
neither shall it have any end. But that ye may know that in this
prayer also we pray for ourselves, and not for God (For we do not
say, "Thy kingdom come," as though we were asking that God may
reign); we shall be ourselves his kingdom, if believing in him we
make progress in this faith. All the faithful, redeemed by the
blood of his only son, will be his kingdom. And this his kingdom
will come, when the resurrection of the dead shall have taken place;
for then he will come himself. And when the dead are risen, he will
divide them, as he himself saith, "and he shall set some on the
right hand, and some on the left." To those who shall be on the
right hand he will say, "Come, ye blessed of my Father, receive the
kingdom." This is what we wish and pray for when we say, "Thy
kingdom come"; that it may come to us. For if we shall be reprobates,
that kingdom shall come to others, but not to us. But if we shall
be of that number, who belong to the members of his only-begotten
son, his kingdom will come to us, and will not tarry. For are there
as many ages yet remaining as have already passed away? The Apostle
John hath said, "My little children, it is the last hour." But it
is a long hour proportioned to this long day; and see how many years
this last hour lasteth. But, nevertheless, be ye as those who
watch, and so sleep, and rise again, and reign. Let us watch now,
let us sleep in death; at the end we shall rise again, and shall
reign without end.
"Thy will be done as in heaven, so in earth." The third thing we
pray for is, that his will may be done as in heaven so in earth.
And in this, too, we wish well for ourselves. For the will of God
must necessarily be done. It is the will of God that the good
should reign, and the wicked be damned. Is it possible that this
will should not be done? But what good do we wish for ourselves,
when we say, "Thy will be done as in heaven, so in earth?" Give
ear. For this petition may be understood in many ways, and many
things are to be in our thoughts in this petition, when we pray God,
"Thy will be done as in heaven, so in earth." As thy angels offend
thee not, so may we also not offend thee. Again, how is "Thy will
be done as in heaven, so in earth," understood? All the holy
Patriarchs, all the Prophets, all the Apostles, all the spiritual
are, as it were, God's heaven; and we in comparison of them are
earth. "Thy will be done in heaven, so in earth"; as in them, so in
us also. Again, "Thy will be done as in heaven, so in earth"; the
Church of God is heaven, his enemies are earth. So we wish well for
our enemies, that they too may believe and become Christians, and so
the will of God be done as in heaven, so also in earth. Again, "Thy
will be done as in heaven, so in earth." Our spirit is heaven, and
the flesh earth. As our spirit is renewed by believing, so may our
flesh be renewed by rising again; and "the will of God be done as in
heaven, so in earth." Again, our mind whereby we see truth, and
delight in this truth, is heaven; as, "I delight in the law of God,
after the inward man." What is the earth? "I see another law in my
members, warring against the law of my mind?" When this strife
shall have passed away, and a full concord be brought about of the
flesh and spirit, the will of God will be done as in heaven, so also
in earth. When we repeat this petition, let us think of all these
things, and ask them all of the Father. Now all these things which
we have mentioned, these three petitions, beloved, have respect to
the life eternal. For if the name of our God is sanctified in us,
it will be for eternity. If his kingdom come, where we shall live
forever, it will be for eternity. If his will be done as in heaven,
so in earth, in all the ways which I have explained, it will be for
eternity.
There remain now the petitions for this life of our pilgrimage;
therefore follows, "Give us this day our daily bread." Give us
eternal things, give us things temporal. Thou hast promised a
kingdom, deny us not the means of subsistence. Thou wilt give
everlasting glory with thyself hereafter, give us in this earth
temporal support. Therefore is it day by day, and to-day, that is,
in this present time. For when this life shall have passed away,
shall we ask for daily bread then? For then it will not be called
day by day, but to-day. Now it is called day by day, when one day
passes away, and another day succeeds. Will it be called day by day
when there will be one eternal day? This petition for daily bread
is doubtless to be understood in two ways, both for the necessary
supply of our bodily food, and for the necessities of our spiritual
support. There is a necessary supply of bodily food, for the
preservation of our daily life, without which we cannot live. This
is food and clothing, but the whole is understood in a part. When
we ask for bread, we thereby understand all things. There is a
spiritual food, also, which the faithful know, which ye, too, will
know when ye shall receive it at the altar of God. This also is
"daily bread," necessary only for this life. For shall we receive
the Eucharist when we shall have come to Christ himself, and begun
to reign with him forever? So then the Eucharist is our daily
bread; but let us in such wise receive it, that we be not refreshed
in our bodies only, but in our souls. For the virtue which is
apprehended there, is unity, that gathered together into his body,
and made his members, we may be what we receive. Then will it be,
indeed, our daily bread. Again, what I am handling before you now
is "daily bread"; and the daily lessons which ye hear in church are
daily bread, and the hymns ye hear and repeat are daily bread. For
all these arc necessary in our state of pilgrimage. But when we
shall have got to heaven, shall we hear the Word, we who shall see
the Word himself, and hear the Word himself, and eat and drink him
as the angels do now? Do the angels need books, and interpreters,
and readers? Surely not. They read in seeing, for the truth itself
they see, and are abundantly satisfied from that fountain, from
which we obtain some few drops. Therefore has it been said touching
our daily bread, that this petition is necessary for us in this
life.
"Forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors." Is this necessary
except in this life? For in the other we shall have no debts. For
what are debts, but sins? See, ye are on the point of being
baptized, then all your sins will be blotted out, none whatever will
remain. Whatever evil ye have ever done, in deed, or word, or
desire, or thought, all will be blotted out. And yet if in the life
which is after baptism there were security from sin, we should not
learn such a prayer as this, "Forgive us our debts." Only let us by
all means do what comes next, "As we forgive our debtors." Do ye
then, who are about to enter in to receive a plenary and entire
remission of your debts, do ye above all things see that ye have
nothing in your hearts against any other, so as to come forth from
baptism secure, as it were, free and discharged of all debts, and
then begin to purpose to avenge yourselves on your enemies, who in
time past have done you wrong. Forgive, as ye are forgiven. God can
do no one wrong, and yet he forgiveth who oweth nothing. How then
ought he to forgive who is himself forgiven, when he forgiveth all
who oweth nothing that can be forgiven him?
"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." Will this
again be necessary in the life to come? "Lead us not into
temptation," will not be said except where there can be temptation.
We read in the book of holy Job, "Is not the life of man upon earth
a temptation?" What, then, do we pray for? Hear what. The Apostle
James saith, "Let no man say when he is tempted, I am tempted of
God." He spoke of those evil temptations whereby men are deceived,
and brought under the yoke of the devil. This is the kind of
temptation he spoke of. For there is another sort of temptation
which is called a proving; of this kind of temptation it is written,
"The Lord your God tempteth [proveth] you to know whether ye love
him." What means "to know"? "To make you know," for he knoweth
already. With that kind of temptation whereby we are deceived and
seduced, God tempteth no man. But undoubtedly in his deep and
hidden judgment he abandons some. And when he hath abandoned them,
the tempter finds his opportunity. For he finds in him no
resistance against his power, but forthwith presents himself to him
as his possessor, if God abandon him. Therefore, that he may not
abandon us, do we say, "Lead us not into temptation." "For every one
is tempted," says the same Apostle James, "when he is drawn away of
his own lust and enticed. Then lust, when it hath conceived,
bringeth forth sin; and sin, when it is finished, bringeth forth
death." What, then, has he hereby taught us? To fight against our
lusts. For ye are about to put away your sins in holy baptism; but
lusts will still remain, wherewith ye must fight after that ye are
regenerate. For a conflict with your own selves still remains. Let
no enemy from without be feared; conquer thine own self, and the
whole world is conquered. What can any tempter from without, whether
the devil or the devil's minister, do against thee? Whosoever sets
the hope of gain before thee to seduce thee, let him only find no
covetousness in thee; and what can he who would tempt thee by gain
effect? Whereas, if covetousness be found in thee, thou takest fire
at the sight of gain, and art taken by the bait of this corrupt
food. But if we find no covetousness in thee, the trap remains
spread in vain. Or should the tempter set before thee some woman of
surpassing beauty; if chastity be within, iniquity from without is
overcome. Therefore, that he may not take thee with the bait of a
strange woman's beauty, fight with thine own lust within; thou hast
no sensible perception of thine enemy, but of thine own
concupiscence thou hast. Thou dost not see the devil, but the object
that engageth thee thou dost see. Get the mastery then over that of
which thou art sensible within. Fight valiantly, for he who hath
regenerated thee is thy judge; he hath arranged the lists, he is
making ready the crown. But because thou wilt without doubt be
conquered, if thou have not him to aid thee, if he abandon thee,
therefore dost thou say in the prayer, "Lead us not into
temptation." The judge's wrath hath given over some to their own
lusts; and the Apostle says, "God gave them over to the lusts of
their hearts." How did he give them up? Not by forcing, but by
forsaking them.
"Deliver us from evil," may belong to the same sentence. Therefore,
that thou mayst understand it to be all one sentence, it runs thus,
"Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." Therefore,
he added "but," to show that all this belongs to one sentence, "Lead
us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil." How is this? I
will propose them singly. "Lead us not into temptation, but deliver
us from evil." By delivering us from evil, he leadeth us not into
temptation; by not leading us into temptation, he delivereth us from
evil.
And, truly, it is a great temptation, dearly beloved, it is a great
temptation in this life, when that in us is the subject of
temptation whereby we attain pardon if, in any of our temptations,
we have fallen. It is a frightful temptation when that is taken from
us whereby we may be healed from the wounds of other temptations. I
know that ye have not yet understood me. Give me your attention,
that ye may understand. Suppose, avarice tempts a man, and he is
conquered in any single temptation (for sometimes even a good
wrestler and fighter may get roughly handled): avarice, then, has
got the better of a man, good wrestler though he be, and he has done
some avaricious act. Or there has been a passing lust; it has not
brought the man to fornication, nor reached unto adultery--for when
this does take place, the man must at all events be kept back from
the criminal act. But he "hath seen a woman to lust after her"; he
has let his thoughts dwell on her with more pleasure than was right;
he has admitted the attack; excellent combatant though he be, he has
been wounded, but he has not consented to it; he has beaten back the
motion of his lust, has chastised it with the bitterness of grief,
he has beaten it back; and has prevailed. Still, in the very fact
that he had slipped, has he ground for saying, "Forgive us our
debts." And so of all other temptations, it is a hard matter that in
them all there should not be occasion for saying, "Forgive us our
debts." What, then, is that frightful temptation which I have
mentioned, that grievous, that tremendous temptation, which must be
avoided with all our strength, with all our resolution; what is it?
When we go about to avenge ourselves. Anger is kindled, and the man
bums to be avenged. O frightful temptation! Thou art losing that,
whereby thou hadst to attain pardon for other faults. If thou hadst
committed any sin as to other senses, and other lusts, hence
mightest thou have had thy cure, in that thou mightest say, "Forgive
us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors." But whoso instigateth
thee to take vengeance will lose for thee the power thou hadst to
say, "As we also forgive our debtors." When that power is lost, all
sins will be retained; nothing at all is remitted.
Our Lord and Master, and Savior, knowing this dangerous temptation
in this life, when he taught us six or seven petitions in this
prayer, took none of them for himself to treat of, and to commend to
us with greater earnestness, than this one. Have we not said, "Our
Father, which art in heaven," and the rest which follows? Why after
the conclusion of the prayer, did he not enlarge upon it to us,
either as to what he had laid down in the beginning, or concluded
with at the end, or placed in the middle? For why said he not, if
the name of God be not hallowed in you, or if ye have no part in the
kingdom of God, or if the will of God be not done in you, as in
heaven, or if God guard you not, that ye enter not into temptation;
why none of all these? but what saith he? "Verily I say unto you,
that if ye forgive men their trespasses," in reference to that
petition, "Forgive us our debts, as we also forgive our debtors."
Having passed over all the other petitions which he taught us, this
he taught us with an especial force. There was no need of insisting
so much upon those sins in which if a man offend, he may know the
means whereby he may be cured; need of it there was with regard to
that sin in which, if thou sin, there is no means whereby the rest
can be cured. For this thou oughtest to be ever saying, "Forgive us
our debts." What debts? There is no lack of them, for we are but
men; I have talked somewhat more than I ought, have said something I
ought not, have laughed more than I ought, have eaten more than I
ought, have listened with pleasure to what I ought not, have drunk
more than I ought, have seen with pleasure what I ought not, have
thought with pleasure on what I ought not; "Forgive us our debts, as
we also forgive our debtors." This if thou hast lost, thou art lost
thyself.
Take heed, my brethren, my sons, sons of God, take heed, I beseech
you, in that I am saying to you. Fight to the uttermost of your
powers with your own hearts. And if ye shall see your anger making a
stand against you, pray to God against it, that God may make thee
conqueror of thyself, that God may make thee conqueror, I say, not
of thine enemy without, but of thine own soul within. For he will
give thee his present help, and will do it. He would rather that we
ask this of him, than rain. For ye see, beloved, how many petitions
the Lord Christ hath taught us; and there is scarce found among them
one which speaks of daily bread, that all our thoughts may be molded
after the life to come. For what can we fear that he will not give
us, who hath promised and said, "Seek ye first the kingdom of God
and his righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you;
for your Father knoweth that ye have need of these things before ye
ask him." "Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness,
and all these things shall be added unto you." For many have been
tried even with hunger, and have been found gold, and have not been
forsaken by God. They would have perished with hunger, if the daily
inward bread were to leave their heart. After this let us chiefly
hunger. For, "Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after
righteousness, for they shall be filled." But he can in mercy look
upon our infirmity, and see us, as it is said, "Remember that we are
dust." He who from the dust made and quickened man, for that his
work of clay's sake, gave his only son to death. Who can explain,
who can worthily so much as conceive, how much he loveth us?
FRANCIS BACON (1561-1626)
Francis Bacon, Baron Verulam and Viscount St. Albans, is called by
one of his contemporaries, "the eloquentest man in England." Perhaps
those who read his legal arguments before the Star Chamber may not
see this eloquence so fully exemplified in them as in his
incomparable essays; but wherever he speaks, it is Francis Bacon
speaking. It is doubtful if any other man ever lived who has even
approached him in the power of controlling his own and subsequent
times by purely intellectual means. Until his time, Aristotle had no
rival in the domain of pure intellect Since he lived, the higher
mind of the world has owned his mastery and has shown the results of
the inspiration of his intellectual daring in following, regardless
of consequences, the "inductive method," the determination to make
truth fruitful through experiment, which has resulted in the
scientific accomplishments of the modern world. Lucretius writes of
the pleasure of knowing truth as like that a man on shore in a storm
has in seeing the struggles of those who are about to be
shipwrecked:--
"'Tis sweet when the seas are roughened by violent winds to view on
land the toils of others; not that there is pleasure in seeing
others in distress, but because man is glad to know himself
secure. It is pleasant, too, to look with no share of peril on the
mighty contests of war; but nothing is sweeter than to reach those
calm, undisturbed temples, raised by the wisdom of philosophers,
whence thou mayst look down on poor, mistaken mortals, wandering up
and down in life's devious ways."--(Lucretius ii 1, translated by
Ramage.)
"Suave mari magno turbantibus aequora ventis,
E terra magnum altcrius spectare laborem;
Non quia vexari quenquam est jucunda voluptas,
Sed quibus ipse malis careas, quia cernere suave est," etc.
Perhaps the spirit of the ancient learning was never so well
expressed elsewhere as in these lines. In what may be called a plea
for the possibilities of the nineteenth and twentieth centuries
Bacon answered it.
"Is there any such happiness for a man's mind to be raised above the
confusion of things where he may have the prospect of the order of
nature and error of man? But is this view of delight only and not of
discovery--of contentment, and not of benefit? Shall he not as well
discern the riches of Nature's warehouse as the beauties of her
shop? Is truth ever barren? Shall he not be able thereby to produce
worthy effects and to endow the life of man with infinite
commodities?"
Among the "infinite commodities" already developed from the thought
flowing into and out of the mind which framed these sublime
sentences are the steam engine, the electric motor, the discoveries
of the microscope in the treatment of disease, the wonders of
chemistry, working out practical results to alleviate human misery,
and to increase steadily from year to year, and from century to
century, the sum of human comfort. Looking forward to this, Bacon
worked for it until his whole life became a manifestation of his
master-thought. It may be said with literal truth that he died of
it, for the cold which brought him his death resulted from his
rashness in leaving his carriage, when sick, to experiment on the
arrest of putrefaction by freezing. The idea came to him. It was
winter and the ground was covered with snow. He was feeble, but he
left his carriage to stuff snow into the carcass of a chicken he had
procured for the experiment. The experiment succeeded, and
centuries later, as a result of it, England is fed with the meat of
America and Australia, But Bacon died after it, leaving behind him
ideas which stamp him as the greatest and brightest, whether or not
he was also "the meanest of mankind." On this latter point, he may
speak for himself, as he does thus in the volume 'State Trials' from
which his speech on Dueling, before the Star Chamber, here used, is
extracted:--
(Howell's, Vol. ii.): "Upon advised consideration of the charge,
descending into my own conscience and calling my memory to account,
as far as I am able, I do plainly and ingenuously confess that I am
guilty of corruption, and do renounce all defense and put myself
upon the grace and mercy of your lordships. ... To the nineteenth
article, _vis._, 'That in the cause between Reynell and Peacock, he
received from Reynell two hundred pounds and a diamond ring worth
four or five hundred pounds,' I confess and declare that on my first
coming to the Seal when I was at Whitehall, my servant Hunt
delivered me two hundred pounds from Sir George Reynell, my near
ally, to be bestowed upon furniture of my house, adding further that
he had received divers former favors from me. And this was, as I
verily think, before any suit was begun. The ring was received
certainly _pendente_ _lite_, and though it was at New Year's tide it was
too great a value for a New Year's gift, though, I take it, nothing
near the value mentioned in the article."
That while Lord Chancellor of England he took gifts intended to
corrupt justice, he confessed to his shame, but he does not seem to
have been wholly able to decide whether in doing so he broke faith
with those who wished to corrupt him, or with the kingdom and
constitution of England he represented, against their desire to
purchase justice. He seems to have believed that though his conduct
was corrupt, his decisions were honest. He says, indeed, that in
spite of his bribe-taking, "he never had bribe or reward in his eye
or thought when he pronounced any sentence or order."
This cannot be admitted in excuse even for Bacon, but his moral
weakness, if it obscure for the time the splendor of his intellect,
died with him, while his genius, marvelously radiant above that of
any other of the last ten centuries, still illuminates the path of
every pioneer of progress.
His address to the Star Chamber on Dueling was delivered in the
proceedings against Mr. William Priest for writing and sending a
challenge, and Mr. Richard Wright for carrying it, January 26th,
1615, Bacon being then the King's attorney-general. The text is from
T. B. Howell's 'State Trials,' London 1816.
SPEECH AGAINST DUELING
My Lords, I thought it fit for my place, and for these times, to
bring to hearing before your lordships some cause touching private
duels, to see if this court can do any good to tame and reclaim that
evil, which seems unbridled. And I could have wished that I had met
with some greater persons, as a subject for your censure; both
because it had been more worthy of this presence, and also the
better to have shown the resolution I myself have to proceed without
respect of persons in this business. But finding this cause on foot
in my predecessor's time, I thought to lose no time in a mischief
that groweth every day; and besides, it passes not amiss sometimes
in government, that the greater sort be admonished by an example
made in the meaner, and the dog to be eaten before the lion. Nay, I
should think, my lords, that men of birth and quality will leave the
practice, when it begins to be vilified, and come so low as to
barber-surgeons and butchers, and such base mechanical persons. And
for the greatness of this presence, in which I take much comfort,
both as I consider it in itself, and much more in respect it is by
his Majesty's direction, I will supply the meanness of the
particular cause, by handling of the general point; to the end that
by the occasion of this present cause, both my purpose of
prosecution against duels and the opinion of the court, without
which I am nothing, for the censure of them may appear, and thereby
offenders in that kind may read their own case, and know what they
are to expect; which may serve for a warning until example may be
made in some greater person, which I doubt the times will but too
soon afford.
Therefore, before I come to the particular, whereof your lordships
are now to judge, I think the time best spent to speak somewhat (1)
of the nature and greatness of this mischief; (2) of the causes and
remedies; (3) of the justice of the law of England, which some stick
not to think defective in this matter; (4) of the capacity of this
court, where certainly the remedy of this mischief is best to be
found; (5) touching mine own purpose and resolution, wherein I shall
humbly crave your lordships' aid and assistance.
For the mischief itself, it may please your lordships to take into
your consideration that, when revenge is once extorted out of the
magistrate's hands, contrary to God's ordinance, _mihi_ _vindicta_,
_ego_ _retribuam_, and every man shall bear the sword, not to
defend, but to assail, and private men begin once to presume to give
law to themselves and to right their own wrongs, no man can foresee
the danger and inconveniences that may arise and multiply thereupon.
It may cause sudden storms in court, to the disturbance of his
Majesty and unsafety of his person. It may grow from quarrels to
bandying, and from bandying to trooping, and so to tumult and
commotion; from particular persons to dissension of families and
alliances; yea, to national quarrels, according to the infinite
variety of accidents, which fall not under foresight. So that the
State by this means shall be like to a distempered and imperfect
body, continually subject to inflammations and convulsions.
Besides, certainly both in divinity and in policy, offenses of
presumption are the greatest. Other offenses yield and consent to
the law that it is good, not daring to make defense, or to justify
themselves; but this offense expressly gives the law an affront, as
if there were two laws, one a kind of gown law and the other a law
of reputation, as they term it. So that Paul's and Westminster, the
pulpit and the courts of justice, must give place to the law, as the
King speaketh in his proclamation, of ordinary tables, and such
reverend assemblies; the Yearbooks, and statute books must give
place to some French and Italian pamphlets, which handle the
doctrines of duels, which, if they be in the right, _transeamus_
_ad_ _illa_, let us receive them, and not keep the people in
conflict and distraction between two laws. Again, my lords, it is a
miserable effect, when young men full of towardness and hope, such
as the poets call "_Aurorae_ _filii_," sons of the morning, in whom
the expectation and comfort of their friends consisteth, shall be
cast away and destroyed in such a vain manner. But much more it is
to be deplored when so much noble and genteel blood should be spilt
upon such follies, as, if it were adventured in the field in service
of the King and realm, were able to make the fortune of a day and
change the future of a kingdom. So your lordships see what a
desperate evil this is; it troubleth peace; it disfurnisheth war; it
bringeth calamity upon private men, peril upon the State, and
contempt upon the law.
Touching the causes of it: the first motive, no doubt, is a false
and erroneous imagination of honor and credit; and therefore the
King, in his last proclamation, doth most aptly and excellently call
them bewitching duels. For, if one judge of it truly, it is no
better than a sorcery that enchanteth the spirits of young men, that
bear great minds with a false show, _species_ _falsa_; and a kind of
satanical illusion and apparition of honor against religion, against
law, against moral virtue, and against the precedents and examples
of the best times and valiantest nations; as I shall tell you by and
by, when I shall show you that the law of England is not alone in
this point. But then the seed of this mischief being such, it is
nourished by vain discourses and green and unripe conceits, which,
nevertheless, have so prevailed as though a man were staid and
sober-minded and a right believer touching the vanity and
unlawfulness of these duels; yet the stream of vulgar opinion is
such, as it imposeth a necessity upon men of value to conform
themselves, or else there is no living or looking upon men's faces;
so that we have not to do, in this case, so much with particular
persons as with unsound and depraved opinions, like the dominations
and spirits of the air which the Scripture speaketh of. Hereunto
may be added that men have almost lost the true notion and
understanding of fortitude and valor. For fortitude distinguisheth
of the grounds of quarrels whether they be just; and not only so,
but whether they be worthy; and setteth a better price upon men's
lives than to bestow them idly. Nay, it is weakness and disesteem
of a man's self, to put a man's life upon such ledger performances.
A man's life is not to be trifled away; it is to be offered up and
sacrificed to honorable services, public merits, good causes, and
noble adventures. It is in expense of blood as it is in expense of
money. It is no liberality to make a profusion of money upon every
vain occasion; nor no more is it fortitude to make effusion of
blood, except the cause be of worth. And thus much for the cause of
this evil.
For the remedies. I hope some great and noble person will put his
hand to this plough, and I wish that my labors of this day may be
but forerunners to the work of a higher and better hand. But yet to
deliver my opinion as may be proper for this time and place, there
be four things that I have thought on, as the most effectual for the
repressing of this depraved custom of particular combats.
The first is, that there do appear and be declared a constant and
settled resolution in the State to abolish it. For this is a thing,
my lords, must go down at once or not at all; for then every
particular man will think himself acquitted in his reputation, when
he sees that the State takes it to heart, as an insult against the
King's power and authority, and thereupon hath absolutely resolved
to master it; like unto that which we set down in express words in
the edict of Charles IX. of France, touching duels, that the King
himself took upon him the honor of all that took themselves grieved
or interested for not having performed the combat. So must the State
do in this business; and in my conscience there is none that is but
of a reasonable sober disposition, be he never so valiant, except it
be some furious person that is like a firework, but will be glad of
it, when he shall see the law and rule of State disinterest him of a
vain and unnecessary hazard.
Secondly, care must be taken that this evil be no more cockered, nor
the humor of it fed; wherein I humbly pray your lordships, that I
may speak my mind freely, and yet be understood aright. The
proceedings of the great and noble commissioners martial I honor and
reverence much, and of them I speak not in any sort. But I say the
compounding of quarrels, which is otherwise in use by private
noblemen and gentlemen, is so punctual, and hath such reference and
respect unto the received conceits, what is beforehand, and what is
behindhand, and I cannot tell what, as without all question it doth,
in a fashion, countenance and authorize this practice of duels as if
it had in it somewhat of right.
Thirdly, I must acknowledge that I learned out of the King's last
proclamation, the most prudent and best applied remedy for this
offense, if it shall please his Majesty to use it, that the wit of
man can devise. This offense, my lords, is grounded upon a false
conceit of honor; and therefore it would be punished in the same
kind, in _eo_ _quis_ _rectissime_ _plectitur_, _in_ _quo_ _peccat_.
The fountain of honor is the King and his aspect, and the access to
his person continueth honor in life, and to be banished from his
presence is one of the greatest eclipses of honor that can be. If
his Majesty shall be pleased that when this court shall censure any
of these offenses in persons of eminent quality, to add this out of
his own power and discipline, that these persons shall be banished
and excluded from his court for certain years, and the courts of his
queen and prince, I think there is no man that hath any good blood
in him will commit an act that shall cast him into that darkness
that he may not behold his sovereign's face.
Lastly, and that which more properly concerneth this court. We see,
my lords, the root of this offense is stubborn; for it despiseth
death, which is the utmost of punishments; and it were a just but a
miserable severity to execute the law without all remission or
mercy, where the case proveth capital. And yet the late severity in
France was more, where by a kind of martial law, established by
ordinance of the King and Parliament, the party that had slain
another was presently had to the gibbet, insomuch as gentlemen of
great quality were hanged, their wounds bleeding, lest a natural
death should prevent the example of justice. But, my lords, the
course which we shall take is of far greater lenity, and yet of no
less efficacy; which is to punish, in this court, all the middle
acts and proceedings which tend to the duel, which I will enumerate
to you anon, and so to hew and vex the root in the branches, which,
no doubt, in the end will kill the root, and yet prevent the
extremity of law.
Now for the law of England, I see it excepted to, though ignorantly,
in two points. The one, that it should make no difference between
an insidious and foul murder, and the killing of a man upon fair
terms, as they now call it. The other, that the law hath not
provided sufficient punishment and reparations for contumely of
words, as the lie, and the like. But these are no better than
childish novelties against the divine law, and against all laws in
effect, and against the examples of all the bravest and most
virtuous nations of the world.
For first, for the law of God, there is never to be found any
difference made in homicide, but between homicide voluntary and
involuntary, which we term misadventure. And for the case of
misadventure itself, there were cities of refuge; so that the
offender was put to his flight, and that flight was subject to
accident, whether the revenger of blood should overtake him before
he had gotten sanctuary or no. It is true that our law hath made a
more subtle distinction between the will inflamed and the will
advised, between manslaughter in heat and murder upon prepensed
malice or cold blood, as the soldiers call it; an indulgence not
unfit for a choleric and warlike nation; for it is true, _ira_
_furor_ _brevis_, a man in fury is not himself. This privilege of
passion the ancient Roman law restrained, but to a case; that was,
if the husband took the adulterer in the manner. To that rage and
provocation only it gave way, that a homicide was justifiable. But
for a difference to be made in killing and destroying man, upon a
forethought purpose, between foul and fair, and, as it were, between
single murder and vied murder, it is but a monstrous child of this
latter age, and there is no shadow of it in any law, divine or
human. Only it is true, I find in the Scripture that Cain enticed
his brother into the field and slew him treacherously; but Lamech
vaunted of his manhood, that he would kill a young man, and if it
were to his hurt; so as I see no difference between an insidious
murder and a braving or presumptuous murder, but the difference
between Cain and Lamech. As for examples in civil states, all
memory doth consent, that Graecia and Rome were the most valiant and
generous nations of the world; and that, which is more to be noted,
they were free estates, and not under a monarchy; whereby a man
would think it a great deal the more reason that particular persons
should have righted themselves. And yet they had not this practice
of duels, nor anything that bare show thereof; and sure they would
have had it, if there had been any virtue in it. Nay, as he saith,
"_Fas_ _est_ _et_ _ab_ _hoste_ _doceri_" It is memorable, that which
is reported by a counsel or ambassador of the emperor, touching the
censure of the Turks of these duels. There was a combat of this
kind performed by two persons of quality of the Turks, wherein one
of them was slain, and the other party was converted before the
council of bashaws. The manner of the reprehension was in these
words: "How durst you undertake to fight one with the other? Are
there not Christians enough to kill? Did you not know that whether
of you shall be slain, the loss would be the great seignor's?" So,
as we may see, the most warlike nations, whether generous or
barbarous, have ever despised this wherein now men glory.
It is true, my lords, that I find combats of two natures authorized,
how justly I will not dispute as to the latter of them. The one,
when upon the approaches of armies in the face one of the other,
particular persons have made challenges for trial of valors in the
field upon the public quarrel. This the Romans called "_pugna_
_per_ _provocationem_." And this was never, but either between the
generals themselves, who were absolute, or between particulars by
license of the generals; never upon private authority. So you see
David asked leave when he fought with Goliath; and Joab, when the
armies were met, gave leave, and said "Let the young man play before
us." And of this kind was that famous example in the wars of
Naples, between twelve Spaniards and twelve Italians, where the
Italians bore away the victory; besides other infinite like examples
worthy and laudable, sometimes by singles, sometimes by numbers.
The second combat is a judicial trial of right, where the right is
obscure, introduced by the Goths and the northern nations, but more
anciently entertained in Spain. And this yet remains in some cases
as a divine lot of battle, though controverted by divines, touching
the lawfulness of it; so that a wise writer saith: "_Taliter_
_pugnantes_ _videntur_ _tentare_ _Deum_, _quia_ _hoc_ _volunt_ _ut_
_Deus_ _ostendat_ _et_ _faciat_ _miraculum_, _ut_ _justam_ _causam_
_habens_ _victor_ _efficiatur_, _quod_ _saepe_ _contra_ _accidit_."
But whosoever it be, this kind of fight taketh its warrant from law.
Nay, the French themselves, whence this folly seemeth chiefly to
have flown, never had it but only in practice and toleration, and
never as authorized by law; and yet now of late they have been fain
to purge their folly with extreme rigor, in so much as many
gentlemen left between death and life in the duels, as I spake
before, were hastened to hanging with their wounds bleeding. For
the State found it had been neglected so long, as nothing could be
thought cruelty which tended to the putting of it down. As for the
second defect, pretended in our law, that it hath provided no remedy
for lies and fillips, it may receive like answer. It would have
been thought a madness amongst the ancient lawgivers to have set a
punishment upon the lie given, which in effect is but a word of
denial, a negative of another's saying. Any lawgiver, if he had
been asked the question, would have made Solon's answer: That he had
not ordained any punishment for it, because he never imagined the
world would have been so fantastical as to take it so highly. The
civilians dispute whether an action of injury lie for it, and rather
resolve the contrary. And Francis I. of France, who first set on
and stamped this disgrace so deep, is taxed by the judgment of all
wise writers for beginning the vanity of it; for it was he, that
when he had himself given the lie and defy to the Emperor, to make
it current in the world, said in a solemn assembly, "that he was no
honest man that would bear the lie," which was the fountain of this
new learning.
As for the words of approach and contumely, whereof the lie was
esteemed none, it is not credible, but that the orations themselves
are extant, what extreme and exquisite reproaches were tossed up and
down in the Senate of Rome and the places of assembly, and the like
in Graecia, and yet no man took himself fouled by them, but took
them but for breath, and the style of an enemy, and either despised
them or returned them, but no blood was spilt about them.
So of every touch or light blow of the person, they are not in
themselves considerable, save that they have got them upon the stamp
of a disgrace, which maketh these light things pass for great
matters. The law of England and all laws hold these degrees of
injury to the person, slander, battery, mayhem, death; and if there
be extraordinary circumstances of despite and contumely, as in case
of libels and bastinadoes and the like, this court taketh them in
hand and punisheth them exemplarily. But for this apprehension of a
disgrace that a fillip to the person should be a mortal wound to the
reputation, it were good that men did hearken unto the saying of
Gonsalvo, the great and famous commander, that was wont to say a
gentleman's honor should be _de_ _tela_ _crassiore_, of a good
strong warp or web, that every little thing should not catch in it;
when as now it seems they are but of cobweb-lawn or such light
stuff, which certainly is weakness, and not true greatness of mind,
but like a sick man's body, that is so tender that it feels
everything. And so much in maintenance and demonstration of the
wisdom and justice of the law of the land.
For the capacity of this court, I take this to be a ground
infallible, that wheresoever an offense is capital, or matter of
felony, though it be not acted, there the combination or practice
tending to the offense is punishable in this court as high
misdemeanor. So practice to imprison, though it took no effect;
waylaying to murder, though it took no effect; and the like; have
been adjudged heinous misdemeanors punishable in this court. Nay,
inceptions and preparations in inferior crimes, that are not
capital, as suborning and preparing of witnesses that were never
deposed, or deposed nothing material, have likewise been censured in
this court, as appeareth by the decree in Garnon's case.
Why, then, the major proposition being such, the minor cannot be
denied, for every appointment of the field is but combination and
plotting of murder. Let them gild it how they list, they shall never
have fairer terms of me in a place of justice. Then the conclusion
followeth, that it is a case fit for the censure of the court. And
of this there be precedents in the very point of challenge. It was
the case of Wharton, plaintiff, against Ellekar and Acklam,
defendants, where Acklam, being a follower of Ellekar's, was
censured for carrying a challenge from Ellekar to Wharton, though
the challenge was not put in writing, but delivered only by word of
message; and there are words in the decree, that such challenges are
to the subversion of government. These things are well known, and
therefore I needed not so much to have insisted upon them, but that
in this case I would be thought not to innovate anything of my own
head, but to follow the former precedents of the court, though I
mean to do it more thoroughly, because the time requires it more.
Therefore now to come to that which concerneth my part, I say that
by the favor of the king and the court, I will prosecute in this
court in the cases following: If any man shall appoint the field,
though the fight be not acted or performed. If any man shall send
any challenge in writing, or any message of challenge. If any man
carry or deliver any writing or message of challenge. If any man
shall accept to be second in a challenge of either side. If any man
shall depart the realm, with intention and agreement to perform the
fight beyond the seas. If any man shall revive a quarrel by any
scandalous bruits or writings, contrary to former proclamation
published by his Majesty in that behalf.
Nay I hear there be some counsel learned of duels, that tell voting
men when they are beforehand, and when they are otherwise and
thereby incense and incite them to the duel, and make an art of
it. I hope I shall meet with some of them too; and I am sure, my
lords, this course of preventing duels, in nipping them in the bud,
is fuller of clemency and providence than the suffering them to go
on, and hanging men with their wounds bleeding, as they did in
France.
To conclude, I have some petitions to make first to your lordship,
my lord chancellor, that in case I be advertised of a purpose in any
to go beyond the sea to fight, I may have granted his Majesty's writ
of _ne_ _exeat_ _regnum_ to stop him, for this giant bestrideth the
sea, and I would take and snare him by the foot on this side; for
the combination and plotting is on this side, though it should be
acted beyond the sea. And your lordship said notably the last time
I made a motion in this business, that a man may be as well _fur_
_de_ _se_ as _felo_ _de_ _se_, if he steal out of the realm for a
bad purpose. As for the satisfying of the words of the writ, no man
will doubt but he does _machinari_ _contra_ _coronam_, as the words
of the writ be, seeking to murder a subject; for that is ever
_contra_ _coronam_ _et_ _dignitatem_. I have also a suit to your
lordships all in general, that for justice's sake, and for true
honor's sake, honor of religion, law, and the King our master,
against this fond and false disguise or puppetry of honor. I may,
in my prosecution, which, it is like enough, may sometimes stir
coals, which I esteem not for my particular, but as it may hinder
the good service, I may, I say, be countenanced and assisted from
your lordships. Lastly, I have a petition to the nobles and
gentlemen of England, that they would learn to esteem themselves at
a just price. _Non_ _hos_ _quaesitim_ _munus_ _in_ _usus_--their
blood is not to be spilt like water or a vile thing; therefore, that
they would rest persuaded there cannot be a form of honor, except it
be upon a worthy matter. But this, _ipsi_ _viderunt_, I am resolved.
JAMES BARBOUR (1775-1842)
Senator James Barbour's speech on the treaty-making power, made in
the United States Senate in January 1816, is one of the ablest and
most concise presentations of the Virginia view of the Federal
constitution represented by Madison before he came under Jefferson's
influence. The speech itself, here reproduced from Benton's
'Debates,' sufficiently explains all that is of permanent importance
in the question presented to the Senate, If, under the Federal
constitution, it was necessary after the ratification of a treaty to
specially repeal laws in conflict with it, then such laws and
"municipal regulations" as remained unrepealed by special act would
be in force in spite of the treaty. Arguing against this as it
affected the treaty-making power of the Senate from which the House
of Representatives was excluded by the constitution, Senator Barbour
declared the treaty-making power supreme over commerce, and
incidentally asserted that unless there is such a supremacy lodged
somewhere in the government, the condition would be as anomalous as
that of Christendom when it had three Popes.
Mr. Barbour was born in 1775 and educated for the bar. He served in
the Virginia legislature, was twice governor of the State, and twice
elected to represent it in the United States Senate. He was
Secretary of War in 1825 under John Quincy Adams, who sent him as
minister to England--a post from which he was recalled by President
Jackson. He presided over the national convention which nominated
William Henry Harrison for the presidency, dying in 1842.
TREATIES AS SUPREME LAWS
Mr. President, as it seems to be the wish of the Senate to pass upon
this subject without debate, it adds to the reluctance I always feel
when compelled, even by a sense of duty, to intrude on their
attention. Yet, as I feel myself obliged, under the solemn
responsibility attached to the station I hold here, to vote against
the bill under consideration--as I think, also, it is but a due
respect to the other branch of the legislature, from whom it is my
misfortune to differ, and but an act of justice to myself to state
the grounds of my opinion, I must be pardoned for departing from the
course which seemed to be desired by the Senate.
In the exercise of this privilege, with a view to promote the wishes
of the Senate as far as a sense of duty will permit, I will confine
myself to a succinct view of the most prominent objections which lie
against its passage, rather than indulge in the extensive range of
which the subject is susceptible. Before I enter into the discussion
of the merits of the question, I beg leave to call the attention of
the Senate to the course which was adopted by us in relation to this
subject. A bill, brought in by the Committee on Foreign Relations,
passed the Senate unanimously, declaring that all laws in opposition
to the convention between the United States and Great Britain,
concluded on the third of July last, should be held as null and
void. The principle on which this body acted was, that the treaty,
upon the exchange of its ratification, did, of itself, repeal any
commercial regulation, incompatible with its provisions, existing in
our municipal code; it being by us believed at the time that such a
bill was not necessary, but by a declaratory act, it was supposed,
all doubts and difficulties, should any exist, might be
removed. This bill is sent to the House of Representatives, who,
without acting thereon, send us the one under consideration, but
differing materially from ours. Far from pretending an intimate
knowledge of the course of business pursued by the two houses, I do
not say that the mode adopted in this particular case is irregular,
but if it has not the sanction of precedent, it appears to me to be
wanting in that courtesy which should be perpetually cherished
between the two houses. It would have been more decorous to have
acted on our bill, to have agreed to it if it were approved, to
reject or amend it. In the latter case, upon its being returned to
the Senate, the views of the other body would have been contrasted
with our own, and we might then have regularly passed upon the
subject. A different course, however, has been adopted; and if a
regard to etiquette had been the only obstacle to my support to the
bill, it would have been readily given; for it is the substance, and
not the shadow, which weighs with me. The difference between the two
bills is rendered important by its involving a constitutional
question.
It is my misfortune, for such I certainly esteem it, to differ from
the other branch of the legislature on that question; were it a
difference of opinion on the expediency of a measure, it might
readily be obviated, as being entirely free, or at least I hope so,
from pride of opinion. My disposition is to meet, by mutual
concession, those with whom I am in the habit of acting; but when a
principle of the constitution is involved, concession and compromise
are out of the question. With one eye on the sacred charter of our
liberties, and the other on the solemn sanction under which I act
here, I surrender myself to the dictates of my best judgment (weak
enough God knows), and fearlessly pursue the course pointed out by
these guides. My regret is certainly greatly lessened by the
reflection that there is no difference of opinion with any one on
the propriety of executing the treaty with good faith--we differ
only as to the manner in which our common purpose shall be effected.
The difference between the friends of the bill, and those opposed to
it is, as I understand it, this: the former contend, that the law of
Congress, discriminating between American and British tonnage, is
not abrogated by the treaty, although its provisions conflict with
the treaty, but that to effect its repeal, the bill in question, a
mere echo of the treaty, must pass; the latter, among whom I wish to
be considered, on the contrary say, that the law above alluded to
was annulled upon the ratification of the treaty. I hope I have
succeeded in stating the question fairly, for that certainly was my
wish, and it is also my determination to discuss it in the same
spirit.
This, then, is the issue which is made up between the friends and
the opponents of the bill; and although in its practical effects I
cannot believe it would be of consequence which way it is decided,
yet, as the just interpretation of the constitution is the pivot on
which it turns, from that consideration alone the question becomes
an interesting one.
Fortunately for us we have a written constitution to recur to,
dictated with the utmost precision of which our language is
susceptible--it being the work of whatsoever of wisdom, of
experience, and of foresight, united America possessed.
To a just understanding of this instrument, it will be essential to
recur to the object of its adoption; in this there can be no
difference of opinion. The old band of union had been literally
dissolved in its own imbecility; to remedy this serious evil, an
increase of the powers of the general government was indispensable.
To draw the line of demarcation between the powers thus granted to
the general government, and those retained by the States, was the
primary and predominating object. In conformity with this view, we
find a general enumeration of the powers assigned the former, of
which Congress is made the depository; which powers, although
granted to Congress in the first instance, are, in the same
instrument, subsequently distributed among the other branches of the
government. Various examples might be adduced in support of this
position. The following for the present will suffice: Article i., section
i, of the constitution declares, that "all legislative powers herein
granted shall be vested in a Congress of the United States, which
shall consist of a Senate and House of Representatives." Yet we
find, by the seventh section of the same article, the President
invested with a large share of legislative power, and, in fact,
constituting an integral branch of the legislature; in addition to
this, I will here barely add, that the grant of the very power to
regulate the exercise of which gave birth to this bill, furnishes,
by the admission of the friends of the bill, another evidence of the
truth of this position, as I shall show hereafter; and, therefore,
to comprehend the true meaning of the constitution, an isolated view
of a particular clause or section will involve you in error, while a
comprehensive one, both of its spirit and letter, will conduct you
to a just result; when apparent collisions will be removed, and
vigor and effect will be given to every part of the instrument.
With this principle as our guide, I come directly to that part of
the constitution which recognizes the treaty-making power. In the
second clause, second section, second article, are the following
plain and emphatic words: "He [the President] shall have power, by
and with the advice and consent of the Senate, to make treaties,
provided two-thirds of the Senators present concur." Two
considerations here irresistibly present themselves--first, there
is no limitation to the exercise of the power, save such
restrictions as arise from the constitution, as to the subjects on
which it is to act; nor is there any participation of the power,
with any other branch of the government, in any way alluded to.
Am I borne out in this declaration by the clause referred to? That
I am, seems to me susceptible of demonstration. To the President
and Senate has been imparted the power of making treaties. Well,
what is a treaty? If a word have a known signification by the
common consent of mankind, and it be used without any qualification
in a law, constitution, or otherwise, the fair inference is that the
received import of such word is intended to be conveyed. If so, the
extent of the power intended to be granted admits of no difficulty.
It reaches to those acts of courtesy and kindness, which
philanthropy has established in the intercourse of nations, as well
as to treaties of commerce, of boundaries, and, in fine, to every
international subject whatsoever. This exposition is supported by
such unequivocal authority, that it is believed it will not be
questioned. I, therefore, infer that it will be readily yielded,
that in regard to the treaty, in aid of which this bill is
exhibited, the treaty-making power has not exceeded its just limits.
So far we have proceeded on sure ground; we now come to the pith of
the question. Is the legislative sanction necessary to give it
effect? I answer in the negative. Why? Because, by the second
clause of the sixth article of the constitution, it is declared that
all treaties made or which shall be made, under the authority of the
United States, shall be the supreme law of the land. If this clause
means anything, it is conclusive of the question.
If the treaty be a supreme law, then whatsoever municipal regulation
comes within its provisions must _ipso_ _facto_ be annulled--unless
gentlemen contend there can be at the same time two supreme laws,
emanating from the same authority, conflicting with each other, and
still both in full vigor and effect. This would indeed produce a
state of things without a parallel in human affairs, unless indeed
its like might be found in the history of the Popes. In one
instance, we are told, there were three at one time roaming over the
Christian world, all claiming infallibility, and denouncing their
anathemas against all who failed to yield implicit obedience to
their respective mandates, when to comply with the one was to
disobey the other. A result like this, so monstrous in its aspect,
excludes the interpretation which produces it. It is a safe course
in attempting to ascertain the meaning of a law or constitution to
connect different clauses (no matter how detached) upon the same
subject together. Let us do it in this case. The President shall
have power, by and with the advice and consent of the Senate, to
make treaties, which treaties shall be the supreme law of the
land. I seek to gain no surreptitious advantage from the word
supreme, because I frankly admit that it is used in the
Constitution, in relation to the laws and constitutions of the
States; but I appeal to it merely to ascertain the high authority
intended to be imparted by the framers of the constitution to a
ratified treaty. It is classed in point of dignity with the laws of
the United States. We ask for no superiority, but equality; and as
the last law made annuls a former one, where they conflict, so we
contend that a subsequent treaty, as in the present case, revokes a
former law in opposition thereto. But the other side contend that it
is inferior to the law in point of authority, which continues in
full force despite of a treaty, and to its repeal the assent of the
whole legislature is necessary. Our claims rest on the expressed
words of the constitution--the opposite on implication; and if the
latter be just, I cannot forbear to say that the framers of the
constitution would but ill deserve what I have heretofore thought a
just tribute to their meritorious services. If they really designed
to produce the effect contended for, instead of so declaring by a
positive provision, they have used a language which, to my mind,
operates conclusively against it. Under what clause of the
constitution is the right to exercise this power set up? The reply
is, the third clause of eighth section, first article--Congress
shall have power to regulate commerce with foreign nations, etc. I
immediately inquire to what extent does the authority of Congress,
in relation to commercial treaties, reach? Is the aid of the
legislature necessary in all cases whatsoever, to give effect to a
commercial treaty? It is readily admitted that it is not. That a
treaty, whose influence is extra territorial, becomes obligatory the
instant of its ratification. That, as the aid of the legislature is
not necessary to its execution, the legislature has no right to
interpose. It is then admitted that while a general power on the
subject of commerce is given to Congress, that yet important
commercial regulations may be adopted by treaty, without the
co-operation of the legislature, notwithstanding the generality of
the grant of power on commercial subjects to Congress. If it be true
that the President and Senate have, in their treaty-making power, an
exclusive control over part and not over the whole, I demand to know
at what point that exclusive control censes? In the clause relied
upon, there is no limitation. The fact is, sir, none exists. The
treaty-making power over commerce is supreme. No legislative
sanction is necessary, if the treaty be capable of self-execution,
and when a legislative sanction is necessary, as I shall more at
large hereafter show, such sanction, when given, adds nothing to the
validity of the treaty, but enables the proper authority to execute
it; and when the legislature do act in this regard, it in under such
obligation as the necessity of fulfilling a moral contract imposes.
If it be inquired of me what I understand by the clause in question,
in answer I refer to the principle with which I set out: that this
was a grant of power to the general government of which Congress was
in the first instance merely the depository, which power, had not a
portion thereof been transferred to another branch of the
government, would have been exclusively exercised by Congress, but
that a distribution of this power has been made by the constitution;
as a portion thereof has been given to the treaty-making power, and
that which is not transferred is left in the possession of
Congress. Hence, to Congress it is competent to act in this grant in
its proper character by establishing municipal regulations. The
President and the Senate, on the other hand, have the same power
within their sphere, that is, by a treaty or convention with a
foreign nation, to establish such regulations in regard to commerce,
as to them may seem friendly to the public interest. Thus each
department moves in its own proper orbit, nor do they come in
collision with each other. If they have exercised their respective
powers on the same subject, the last act, whether by the legislature
or the treaty-making power, abrogates a former one. The legislature
of the nation may, if a cause exist in their judgment sufficient to
justify it, abrogate a treaty, as has been done; so the President
and Senate by a treaty may abrogate a pre-existing law containing
interfering provisions, as has been done heretofore (without the
right being questioned), and as we say in the very case under
consideration. I will endeavor to make myself understood by
examples; Congress has power, under the clause in question, to lay
embargoes, to pass nonintercourse, or nonimportation, or
countervailing laws, and this power they have frequently
exercised. On the other hand, if the nation against whom one of
those laws is intended to operate is made sensible of her injustice
and tenders reparation, the President and Senate have power by
treaty to restore the amicable relations between the two nations,
and the law directing otherwise, upon the ratification of the
treaty, is forthwith annulled. Again, if Congress should be of
opinion that the offending nation had not complied with their
engagements, they might by law revoke the treaty, and place the
relation between the two nations upon such footing as they
approved. Where is the collision here? I see none. This view of the
subject presents an aspect as innocent as that which is produced
when a subsequent law repeals a former one. By this interpretation
you reconcile one part of the constitution with another, giving to
each a proper effect, a result always desirable, and in rules of
construction claiming a precedence to all others. Indeed, sir, I do
not see how the power in question could have been otherwise
arranged. The power which has been assigned to Congress was
indispensable; without it we should have been at the mercy of a
foreign government, who, knowing the incompetency of Congress to
act, would have subjected our commerce to the most injurious
regulations, as was actually the case before the adoption of the
constitution, when it was managed by the States, by whom no regular
system could be established; indeed, we all know this very subject
was among the most prominent of the causes which produced the
constitution. Had this state of things continued, no nation which
could profit by a contrary course would have treated. On the other
hand, had not a power been given to some branch of the government to
treat, whatever might have been the friendly dispositions of other
powers, or however desirous to reciprocate beneficial arrangements,
they could not, without a treaty-making power lodged somewhere, be
realized.
I therefore contend, that although to Congress a power is given in
the clause alluded to, to regulate commerce, yet this power is in
part, as I have before endeavored to show, given to the President
and Senate in their treaty-making capacity--the truth of which
position is admitted by the friends of the bill to a certain extent.
The fact is, that the only difference between us is to ascertain the
precise point where legislative aid is necessary to the execution of
the treaty, and where not. To fix this point is to settle the
question. After the most mature reflection which I have been able
to give this subject, my mind has been brought to the following
results; Whenever the President and Senate, within the acknowledged
range of their treaty-making power, ratify a treaty upon
extraterritorial subjects, then it is binding without any auxiliary
law. Again, if from the nature of the treaty self-executory, no
legislative aid is necessary. If on the contrary, the treaty from
its nature cannot be carried into effect but by the agency of the
legislature, that is, if some municipal regulation be necessary,
then the legislature must act not as participating in the
treaty-making power, but in its proper character as a legislative
body.
BARNAVE (1761-1793)
Antoine Pierre Joseph Marie Barnave was born at Grenoble, France, in
1761. He was the son of an advocate, who gave him a careful
education. His first work of a public character, a pamphlet against
the Feudal system, led to his election to the States-General in
1789. He advocated the Proclamation of the Rights of Man and
identified himself with those enthusiastic young Republicans of whom
Lafayette is the best type. The emancipation of the Jews from all
civil and religious disabilities and the abolition of slavery
throughout French territory owed much to his efforts. He also
opposed the Absolute Veto and led the fight for the sequestration of
the property of the Church. This course made him a popular idol and
in the early days of the Revolution he was the leader of the extreme
wing of the Republicans. When he saw, however, that mob law was
about to usurp the place of the Republican institutions for which he
had striven, he leaned towards the court and advocated the
sacrosanctity of the King's person. Denounced as a renegade, with
his life threatened and his influence lost, he retired to his native
province. In August 1792 he was impeached for correspondence with
the King, and on November 26th, 1793. he was guillotined. The
specimens of his eloquence here given were translated for this
Library from the Paris edition of his works, published in 1843.
REPRESENTATIVE DEMOCRACY AGAINST MAJORITY ABSOLUTISM
(Delivered in the National Assembly, August 11th, 1791)
It is not enough to desire to be free--one must know how to be
free. I shall speak briefly on this subject, for after the success
of our deliberations, I await with confidence the spirit and action
of this Assembly. I only wish to announce my opinions on a
question, the rejection of which would sooner or later mean the loss
of our liberties. This question leaves no doubt in the minds of
those who reflect on governments and are guided by impartial
judgments. Those who have combatted the committee have made a
fundamental error. They have confounded democratic government with
representative government; they have confounded the rights of the
people with the qualifications of an elector, which society
dispenses for its well understood interest. Where the government is
representative, where there exists an intermediary degree of
electors, society which elects them has essentially the right to
determine the conditions of their eligibility. There is one right
existing in our constitution, that of the active citizen, but the
function of an elector is not a right. I repeat, society has the
right to determine its conditions. Those who misunderstand the
nature as they do the advantages of representative government,
remind us of the governments of Athens and Sparta, ignoring the
differences that distinguish them from France, such as extent of
territory, population, etc. Do they forget that they interdicted
representative government? Have they forgotten that the
Lacedemonians had the right to vote in the assemblies only when they
held helots? And only by sacrifice of individual rights did the
Lacedemonians, Athenians, and Romans possess any democratic
governments! I ask those who remind us of them, if it is at such
government they would arrive? I ask those who profess here
metaphysical ideas, because they have no practical ideas, those who
envelop the question in clouds of theory, because they ignore
entirely the fundamental facts of a positive government--I ask is
it forgotten that the democracy of a portion of a people would exist
but by the entire enslavement of the other portion of the people? A
representative government has but one evil to fear, that of
corruption. That such a government shall be good, there must be
guaranteed the purity and incorruptibility of the electorate. This
body needs the union of three eminent guarantees. First, the light
of a fair education and broadened views. Second, an interest in
things, and still better if each had a particular and considerable
interest at stake to defend. Third, such condition of fortune as to
place the elector above attack from corruption.
These advantages I do not look for in the superior class of the
rich, for they undoubtedly have too many special and individual
interests, which they separate from the general interests. But if
it is true that we must not look for the qualifications of the pure
elector among the eminently rich, neither should I look for it among
those whose lack of fortune has prevented their enlightenment; among
such, unceasingly feeling the touches of want, corruption too easily
can find its means. It is, then, in the middle class that we find
the qualities and advantages I have cited. And, I ask, is it the
demand that they contribute five to ten francs that causes the
assertion that we would throw elections into the hands of the rich?
You have established the usage that the electors receive nothing; if
it were otherwise their great number would make an election most
expensive. From the instant that the voter has not means enough to
enable him to sacrifice a little time from his daily labor, one of
three things would occur. The voter would absent himself, or insist
on being paid by the State, else he would be rewarded by the one who
wanted to obtain his suffrage. This does not occur when a
comfortable condition is necessary to constitute an elector. As
soon as the government is established, when the constitution is
guaranteed, there is but a common interest for those who live on
their property, and those who toil honestly. Then can be
distinguished those who desire a stable government and those who
seek but revolution and change, since they increase in importance in
the midst of trouble as vermin in the midst of corruption.
If it is true, then, that under an established constitutional
government all its well-wishers have the same interest, the power of
the same must be placed in the hands of the enlightened who can have
no interest pressing on them, greater than the common interest of
all the citizens. Depart from these principles and you fall into the
abuses of representative government. You would have extreme poverty
in the electorate and extreme opulence in the legislature. You would
see soon in France what yon see now in England, the purchase of
voters in the boroughs not with money even, but with pots of
beer. Thus incontestably are elected many of their parliamentary
members. Good representation must not be sought in either extreme,
but in the middle class. The committee have thus placed it by making
it incumbent that the voter shall possess an accumulation the
equivalent of, say forty days of labor. This would unite the
qualities needed to make the elector exercise his privilege with an
interest in the same. It is necessary that he own from one hundred
and twenty to two hundred and forty livres, either in property or
chattels. I do not think it can seriously be said that this
qualification is fixed too high, unless we would introduce among our
electors men who would beg or seek improper recompense.
If you would have liberty subsist do not hesitate because of
specious arguments which will be presented to you by those who, if
they reflect, will recognize the purity of our intentions and the
resultant advantages of our plans. I add to what I have already
said that the system will diminish many existing inconveniences, and
the proposed law will not have its full effect for two years. They
tell us we are taking from the citizen a right which elevated him by
the only means through which he can acquire it. I reply that if it
was an honor the career which you will open for them will imprint
them with character greater and more in conformity with true
equality. Our opponents have not failed either to magnify the
inconveniences of changing the constitution. Nor do I desire its
change. For that reason we should not introduce imprudent
discussions to create the necessity of a national convention. In
one word, the advice and conclusions of the committee are the sole
guarantees for the prosperity and peaceable condition of the nation.
COMMERCIAL POLITICS
Commerce forms a numerous class, friends of external peace and
internal tranquillity, who attach themselves to the established
government.
It creates great fortunes, which in republics become the origin of
the most forceful aristocracies. As a rule commerce enriches the
cities and their inhabitants, and increases the laboring and
mechanical classes, in opening more opportunities for the
acquirement of riches. To an extent it fortifies the democratic
element in giving the people of the cities greater influence in the
government. It arrives at nearly the same result by impoverishing
the peasant and land owner, by the many new pleasures offered him
and by displaying to him the ostentation and voluptuousness of
luxury and ease. It tends to create bands of mercenaries rather
than those capable of worthy personal service. It introduces into
the nation luxury, ease, and avarice at the same time as labor.
The manners and morals of a commercial people are not the manners of
the merchant. He individually is economical, while the general mass
are prodigal. The individual merchant is conservative and moral,
while the general public are rendered dissolute.
The mixture of riches and pleasures which commerce produces joined
to freedom of manners, leads to excesses of all kinds, at the same
time that the nation may display the perfection of elegance and
taste that one noticed in Rome, mistress of the world or in France
before the Revolution. In Rome the wealth was the inflow of the
whole world, the product of the hardiest ambition, producing the
deterioration of the soldier and the indifference of the patrician.
In France the wealth was the accumulation of an immense commerce and
the varied labors of the most industrious nation on the earth
diverted by a brilliant and corrupt court, a profligate and
chivalrous nobility, and a rich and voluptuous capital.
Where a nation is exclusively commercial, it can make an immense
accumulation of riches without sensibly altering its manners. The
passion of the trader is avarice and the habit of continuous
labor. Left alone to his instincts he amasses riches to possess
them, without designing or knowing how to use them. Examples are
needed to conduct him to prodigality, ostentation, and moral
corruption. As a rule the merchant opposes the soldier. One desires
the accumulations of industry, the other of conquest. One makes of
power the means of getting riches, the other makes of riches the
means of getting power. One is disposed to be economical, a taste
due to his labor. The other is prodigal, the instinct of his
valor. In modern monarchies these two classes form the aristocracy
and the democracy. Commerce in certain republics forms an
aristocracy, or rather an "extra aristocracy in the democracy."
These are the directing forces of such democracies, with the
addition of two other governing powers, which have come in, the
clergy and the legal fraternity, who assist largely in shaping the
course of events.
ISAAC BARROW (1630-1677)
It is not often that a sermon, however eloquent it may be, becomes a
literary classic, as has happened to those preached by Barrow
against Evil Speaking. Literature--that which is expressed in
letters--has its own method, foreign to that of oratory--the art
of forcing one mind on another by word of mouth. Literature can
rely on suggestion, since it leaves those who do not comprehend at
once free to read over again what has attracted their attention
without compelling their understanding. All great literature relies
mostly on suggestion. This is the secret of Shakespeare's strength
in 'Hamlet,' as it is the purpose of Burke's in such speeches as
that at the trial of Hastings, to compel immediate comprehension by
crowding his meaning on the hearer in phalanxed sentences, moving to
the attack, rank on rank, so that the first are at once supported
and compelled by those which succeed them.
It is not easy to find the secret by virtue of which sermons that
made Barrow his reputation for eloquence escaped the fate of most
eloquent sermons so far as to find a place in the standard
"Libraries of English Classics," but it lies probably in their
compactness, clearness, and simplicity. Barrow taught Sir Isaac
Newton mathematics, and his style suggests the method of thought
which Newton illustrated in such great results.
Born in London in 1630, Barrow was educated at the Charterhouse
School, at Felstead, and at Cambridge. Belonging to a Royalist
family, under Cromwell, he left England after his graduation and
traveled abroad, studying the Greek fathers in Constantinople. After
the Restoration he became Lucasian professor of mathematics at
Cambridge and chaplain to Charles II., who called him the best
scholar in England. Celebrated for the length of his sermons, Barrow
had nevertheless a readiness at sharp repartee which made him
formidable on occasion. "I am yours, Doctor, to the knee-strings,"
said the Earl of Rochester, meeting him at court and seeking
amusement at his expense. "I am yours, my lord, to the shoe-tie,"
answered the Doctor, bowing still lower than the Earl had
done. "Yours, Doctor, to the ground," said Rochester. "Yours, ray
lord, to the centre of the earth," answered Barrow with another
bow. "Yours. Doctor, to the lowest pit of hell," said Rochester, as
he imagined, in conclusion. "There, my lord, I must leave you!" was
the immediate answer.
SLANDER
General declamations against vice and sin are indeed excellently
useful, as rousing men to consider and look about them; but they do
often want effect, because they only raise confused apprehensions of
things, and indeterminate propensions to action, which usually,
before men thoroughly perceive or resolve what they should practice,
do decay and vanish. As he that cries out "Fire!" doth stir up
people, and inspireth them with a kind of hovering tendency every
way, yet no man thence to purpose moveth until he be distinctly
informed where the mischief is; then do they, who apprehend
themselves concerned, run hastily to oppose it: so, till we
particularly discern where our offenses lie (till we distinctly know
the heinous nature and the mischievous consequences of them), we
scarce will effectually apply ourselves to correct them. Whence it
is requisite that men should be particularly acquainted with their
sins, and by proper arguments be dissuaded from them.
In order whereto I have now selected one sin to describe, and
dissuade from, being in nature as vile, and in practice as common,
as any other whatever that hath prevailed among men. It is slander,
a sin which in all times and places hath been epidemical and rife,
but which especially doth seem to reign and rage in our age and
country.
There are principles innate to men, which ever have, and ever will,
incline them to this offense. Eager appetites to secular and sensual
goods; violent passions, urging the prosecution of what men affect;
wrath and displeasure against those who stand in the way of
compassing their desires; emulation and envy towards those who
happen to succeed better, or to attain a greater share in such
things; excessive self-love; unaccountable malignity and vanity are
in some degrees connatural to all men, and ever prompt them to this
dealing, as appearing the most efficacious, compendious, and easy
way of satisfying such appetites, of promoting such designs, of
discharging such passions. Slander thence hath always been a
principal engine whereby covetous, ambitious, envious, ill-natured,
and vain persons have striven to supplant their competitors and
advance themselves; meaning thereby to procure, what they chiefly
prize and like, wealth, or dignity, or reputation, favor and power
in the court, respect and interest with the people.
But from especial causes our age peculiarly doth abound in this
practice; for, besides the common dispositions inclining thereto,
there are conceits newly coined, and greedily entertained by many,
which seem purposely leveled at the disparagement of piety, charity,
and justice, substituting interest in the room of conscience,
authorizing and commending for good and wise, all ways serving to
private advantage. There are implacable dissensions, fierce
animosities, and bitter zeals sprung up; there is an extreme
curiosity, niceness, and delicacy of judgment; there is a mighty
affectation of seeming wise and witty by any means; there is a great
unsettlement of mind, and corruption of manners, generally diffused
over people; from which sources it is no wonder that this flood hath
so overflown, that no banks can restrain it, no fences are able to
resist it; so that ordinary conversation is full of it, and no
demeanor can be secure from it.
If we do mark what is done in many (might I not say, in most?)
companies, what is it but one telling malicious stories of, or
fastening odious characters upon, another? What do men commonly
please themselves in so much as in carping and harshly censuring, in
defaming and abusing their neighbors? Is it not the sport and
divertisement of many to cast dirt in the faces of all they meet
with? to bespatter any man with foul imputations? Doth not in every
corner a Momus lurk, from the venom of whose spiteful or petulant
tongue no eminency of rank, dignity of place, or sacredness of
office, no innocence or integrity of life, no wisdom or
circumspection in behavior, no good-nature or benignity in dealing
and carriage, can protect any person? Do not men assume to
themselves a liberty of telling romances, and framing characters
concerning their neighbors, as freely as a poet doth about Hector or
Turnus, Thersites or Draucus? Do they not usurp a power of playing
with, or tossing about, of tearing in pieces their neighbor's good
name, as if it were the veriest toy in the world? Do not many having
a form of godliness (some of them demurely, others confidently, both
without any sense of, or remorse for, what they do) backbite their
brethren? Is it not grown so common a thing to asperse causelessly
that no man wonders at it, that few dislike, that scarce any detest
it? that most notorious calumniators are heard, not only with
patience, but with pleasure; yea, are even held in vogue and
reverence as men of a notable talent, and very serviceable to their
party? so that slander seemeth to have lost its nature and not to
be now an odious sin, but a fashionable humor, a way of pleasing
entertainment, a fine knack, or curious feat of policy; so that no
man at least taketh himself or others to be accountable for what is
said in this way? Is not, in fine, the case become such, that
whoever hath in him any love of truth, any sense of justice or
honesty, any spark of charity towards his brethren, shall hardly be
able to satisfy himself in the conversations he meeteth; but will be
tempted, with the holy prophet, to wish himself sequestered from
society, and cast into solitude; repeating those words of his, "Oh,
that I had in the wilderness a lodging-place of wayfaring men, that
I might leave my people, and go from them: for they are ... an
assembly of treacherous men, and they bend their tongues like their
bow for lies"? This he wished in an age so resembling ours, that I
fear the description with equal patness may suit both: "Take ye
heed" (said he then, and may we not advise the like now?) "every one
of his neighbor, and trust ye not in any brother: for every brother
will utterly supplant, and every neighbor will walk with
slanders. They will deceive every one his neighbor, and will not
speak the truth; they have taught their tongue to speak lies, and
weary themselves to commit iniquity."
Such being the state of things, obvious to experience, no discourse
may seem more needful, or more useful, than that which serveth to
correct or check this practice: which I shall endeavor to do (1) by
describing the nature, (2) by declaring the folly of it: or showing
it to be very true which the wise man here asserteth, "He that
uttereth slander is a fool." Which particulars I hope so to
prosecute, that any man shall be able easily to discern, and ready
heartily to detest this practice.
1. For explication of its nature, we may describe slander to be the
uttering false (or equivalent to false, morally false) speech
against our neighbor, in prejudice to his fame, his safety, his
welfare, or concernment in any kind, out of malignity, vanity,
rashness, ill-nature, or bad design. That which is in Holy
Scripture forbidden and reproved under several names and notions:
of bearing false witness, false accusation, railing censure,
sycophantry, talebearing, whispering, backbiting, supplanting,
taking up reproach: which terms some of them do signify the nature,
others denote the special kinds, others imply the manners, others
suggest the ends of this practice. But it seemeth most fully
intelligible by observing the several kinds and degrees thereof;
as also by reflecting on the divers ways and manners of practicing
it.
The principal kinds thereof I observe to be these:--
1. The grossest kind of slander is that which in the Decalogue is
called, bearing false testimony against our neighbor; that is,
flatly charging him with acts which he never committed, and is
nowise guilty of. As in the case of Naboth, when men were suborned
to say, "Naboth did blaspheme God and the king," and as was David's
case, when he thus complained, "False witnesses did rise up, they
laid to my charge things that I knew not of." This kind in the
highest way (that is, in judicial proceedings) is more rare; and of
all men, they who are detected to practice it are held most vile and
infamous, as being plainly the most pernicious and perilous
instruments of injustice, the most desperate enemies of all men's
right and safety that can be. But also out of the court there are
many knights-errant of the poet, whose business it is to run about
scattering false reports; sometimes loudly proclaiming them in open
companies, sometimes closely whispering them in dark corners; thus
infecting conversation with their poisonous breath: these no less
notoriously are guilty of this kind, as bearing always the same
malice and sometimes breeding as ill effects.
2. Another kind is, affixing scandalous names, injurious epithets,
and odious characters upon persons, which they deserve not. As when
Corah and his accomplices did accuse Moses of being ambitious,
unjust, and tyrannical; when the Pharisees called our Lord an
impostor, a blasphemer, a sorcerer, a glutton and wine-bibber, an
incendiary and perverter of the people, one that spake against
Caesar, and forbade to give tribute; when the Apostles were charged
with being pestilent, turbulent, factious, and seditious fellows.
This sort being very common, and thence in ordinary repute not so
bad, yet in just estimation may be judged even worse than the
former, as doing to our neighbor more heavy and more irreparable
wrong. For it imposeth on him really more blame, and that such
which he can hardly shake off; because the charge signifies habits
of evil, and includeth many acts; then, being general and
indefinite, can scarce be disproved. He, for instance, that calleth
a sober man drunkard doth impute to him many acts of such
intemperance (some really past, others probably future), and no
particular time or place being specified, how can a man clear
himself of that imputation, especially with those who are not
thoroughly acquainted with his conversation? So he that calleth a
man unjust, proud, perverse, hypocritical, doth load him with most
grievous faults, which it is not possible that the most innocent
person should discharge himself from.
3. Like to that kind is this: aspersing a man's actions with harsh
censures and foul terms, importing that they proceed from ill
principles, or tend to bad ends; so as it doth not or cannot
appear. Thus, when we say of him that is generously hospitable,
that he is profuse; of him that is prudently frugal, that he is
niggardly; of him that is cheerful and free in his conversation,
that he is vain or loose; of him that is serious and resolute in
a good way, that he is sullen or morose; of him that is
conspicuous and brisk in virtuous practice, that it is ambition
or ostentation which prompts him; of him that is close and
bashful in the like good way, that it is sneaking stupidity, or
want of spirit; of him that is reserved, that it is craft; of him
that is open, that it is simplicity in him; when we ascribe a
man's liberality and charity to vainglory or popularity; his
strictness of life, and constancy in devotion, to superstition,
or hypocrisy. When, I say, we pass such censures, or impose such
characters on the laudable or innocent practice of our neighbors,
we are indeed slanderers, imitating therein the great calumniator,
who thus did slander even God himself, imputing his prohibition of
the fruit unto envy towards men; "God," said he, "doth know that in
the day ye eat thereof, your eyes shall be opened, and ye shall be
as gods, knowing good and evil;" who thus did ascribe the steady
piety of Job, not to a conscientious love and fear of God, but to
policy and selfish design: "Doth Job fear God for naught?"
Whoever, indeed, pronounceth concerning his neighbor's intentions
otherwise than as they are evidently expressed by words, or
signified by overt actions, is a slanderer; because he pretendeth to
know, and dareth to aver, that which he nowise possibly can tell
whether it be true; because the heart is exempt from all
jurisdiction here, is only subject to the government and trial of
another world; because no man can judge concerning the truth of such
accusations, because no man can exempt or defend himself from them:
so that apparently such practice doth thwart all course of justice
and equity.
4. Another kind is, perverting a man's words or actions
disadvantageously by affected misconstruction. All words are
ambiguous, and capable of different senses, some fair, some more
foul; all actions have two handles, one that candor and charity
will, another that disingenuity and spite may lay hold on; and in
such cases to misapprehend is a calumnious procedure, arguing
malignant disposition and mischievous design. Thus, when two men
did witness that our Lord affirmed, he "could demolish the Temple,
and rear it again in three days"--although he did, indeed, speak
words to that purpose, meaning them in a figurative sense,
discernible enough to those who would candidly have minded his drift
and way of speaking:--yet they who crudely alleged them against
him are called false witnesses. "At last," saith the Gospel, "came
two false witnesses, and said, This fellow said, I am able to
destroy the temple," etc. Thus, also, when some certified of St
Stephen, as having said that "Jesus of Nazareth should destroy that
place, and change the customs that Moses delivered"; although
probably he did speak words near to that purpose, yet are those men
called false witnesses. "And," saith St. Luke, "they set up false
witnesses, which said, This man ceaseth not to speak blasphemous
words," etc. Which instances do plainly show, if we would avoid the
guilt of slander, how careful we should be to interpret fairly and
favorably the words and actions of our neighbor.
5. Another sort of this practice is, partial and lame representation
of men's discourse, or their practice, suppressing some part of the
truth in them, or concealing some circumstances about them which
might serve to explain, to excuse, or to extenuate them. In such a
manner easily, without uttering; any logical untruth, one may yet
grievously calumniate. Thus, suppose a man speaketh a thing upon
supposition, or with exception, or in way of objection, or merely
for disputation's sake, in order to the discussion or clearing of
truth; he that should report him asserting it absolutely,
unlimitedly, positively, and peremptorily, as his own settled
judgment, would notoriously calumniate. If one should be inveigled
by fraud, or driven by violence, or slip by chance into a bad place
or bad company, he that should so represent the gross of that
accident, as to breed an opinion of that person, that out of pure
disposition and design he did put himself there, doth slanderously
abuse that innocent person. The reporter in such cases must not
think to defend himself by pretending that he spake nothing false;
for such propositions, however true in logic, may justly be deemed
lies in morality, being uttered with a malicious and deceitful (that
is, with a calumnious) mind, being apt to impress false conceits and
to produce hurtful effects concerning our neighbor. There are
slanderous truths as well as slanderous falsehoods; when truth is
uttered with a deceitful heart, and to a base end, it becomes a lie.
"He that speaketh truth," saith the wise man, "showeth forth
righteousness, but a false witness deceit." Deceiving is the proper
work of slander; and truth abused to that end putteth on its nature,
and will engage into like guilt.
6, Another kind of calumny is, by instilling sly suggestions, which
although they do not downrightly assert falsehoods, yet they breed
sinister opinions in the hearers, especially in those who, from
weakness or credulity, from jealousy or prejudice, from negligence
or inadvertency, are prone to entertain them. This is done in many
ways: by propounding wily suppositions, shrewd insinuations, crafty
questions, and specious comparisons, intimating a possibility, or
inferring some likelihood of, and thence inducing to believe the
fact. "Doth not," saith this kind of slanderer, "his temper incline
him to do thus? may not his interest have swayed him thereto? had
he not fair opportunity and strong temptation to it? hath he not
acted so in like cases? Judge you, therefore, whether he did it
not." Thus the close slanderer argueth; and a weak or prejudiced
person is thereby so caught, that he presently is ready thence to
conclude the thing done. Again: "He doeth well," saith the
sycophant, "it is true; but why, and to what end? Is it not, as
most men do, out of ill design? may he not dissemble now? may he
not recoil hereafter? have not others made as fair a show? yet we
know what came of it." Thus do calumnious tongues pervert the
judgments of men to think ill of the most innocent, and meanly of
the worthiest actions. Even commendation itself is often used
calumniously, with intent to breed dislike and ill-will towards a
person commended in envious or jealous ears; or so as to give
passage to dispraises, and render the accusations following more
credible. Tis an artifice commonly observed to be much in use
there, where the finest tricks of supplanting are practiced, with
greatest effect; so that _pessimum_ _inimicorum_ _genus_,
_laudantes_; there is no more pestilent enemy than a malevolent
praiser. All these kinds of dealing, as they issue from the
principles of slander, and perform its work, so they deservedly bear
the guilt thereof.
7. A like kind is that of oblique and covert reflections; when a man
doth not directly or expressly charge his neighbor with faults,
but yet so speaketh that he is understood, or reasonably presumed
to do it. This is a very cunning and very mischievous way of
slandering; for therein the skulking calumniator keepeth a
reserve for himself, and cutteth off from the person concerned
the means of defense. If he goeth to clear himself from the
matter of such aspersions: "What need," saith this insidious
speaker, "of that? must I needs mean you? did I name you? why do
you then assume it to yourself? do you not prejudge yourself
guilty? I did not, but your own conscience, it seemeth, doth
accuse you. You are so jealous and suspicious, as persons
overwise or guilty use to be." So meaneth this serpent out of the
hedge securely and unavoidably to bite his neighbor, and is in
that respect more base and more hurtful than the most flat and
positive slanderer.
8. Another kind is that of magnifying and aggravating the faults of
others; raising any small miscarriage into a heinous crime, any
slender defect into an odious vice, and any common infirmity into
a strange enormity; turning a small "mote in the eye" of our
neighbor into a huge "beam," a little dimple in his face into a
monstrous wen. This is plainly slander, at least in degree, and
according to the surplusage whereby the censure doth exceed the
fault. As he that, upon the score of a small debt, doth extort a
great sum, is no less a thief, in regard to what amounts beyond
his due, than if without any pretense he had violently or
fraudulently seized on it, so he is a slanderer that, by
heightening faults or imperfections, doth charge his neighbor
with greater blame, or load him with more disgrace than he
deserves. 'Tis not only slander to pick a hole where there is
none, but to make that wider which is, so that it appeareth more
ugly, and cannot so easily be mended. For charity is wont to
extenuate faults, justice doth never exaggerate them. As no man
is exempt from some defects, or can live free from some
misdemeanors, so by this practice every man may be rendered very
odious and infamous.
9. Another kind of slander is, imputing to our neighbor's practice,
judgment, or profession, evil consequences (apt to render him
odious, or despicable) which have no dependence on them, or
connection with them. There do in every age occur disorders and
mishaps, springing from various complications of causes, working
some of them in a more open and discernible, others in a more secret
and subtle way (especially from Divine judgment and providence
checking or chastising sin); from such occurrences it is common to
snatch occasion and matter of calumny. Those who are disposed this
way are ready peremptorily to charge them upon whomsoever they
dislike or dissent from, although without any apparent cause, or
upon most frivolous and senseless pretenses; yea, often when reason
showeth quite the contrary, and they who are so charged are in just
esteem of all men the least obnoxious to such accusations. So,
usually, the best friends of mankind, those who most heartily wish
the peace and prosperity of the world and most earnestly to their
power strive to promote them, have all the disturbances and
disasters happening charged on them by those fiery vixens, who (in
pursuance of their base designs, or gratification of their wild
passions) really do themselves embroil things, and raise miserable
combustions in the world. So it is that they who have the
conscience to do mischief will have the confidence also to disavow
the blame and the iniquity, to lay the burden of it on those who are
most innocent. Thus, whereas nothing more disposeth men to live
orderly and peaceably, nothing more conduceth to the settlement and
safety of the public, nothing so much draweth blessings down from
heaven upon the commonwealth, as true religion, yet nothing hath
been more ordinary than to attribute all the miscarriages and
mischiefs that happened unto it; even those are laid at his door,
which plainly do arise from the contempt or neglect of it, being the
natural fruits or the just punishments of irreligion. King Ahab, by
forsaking God's commandments and following wicked superstitions, had
troubled Israel, drawing sore judgments and calamities thereon; yet
had he the heart and the face to charge those events on the great
assertor of piety, Elias: "Art thou he that troubleth Israel?" The
Jews by provocation of Divine justice had set themselves in a fair
way towards desolation and ruin; this event to come they had the
presumption to lay upon the faith of our Lord's doctrine. "If,"
said they, "we let him alone, all men will believe on him, and the
Romans shall come, and take away our place and nation," whereas, in
truth, a compliance with his directions and admonitions had been the
only means to prevent those presaged mischiefs. And, _si_ _Tibris_
_ascenderit_ _in_ _mania_, if any public calamity did appear, then
_Christianos_ _ad_ _leones_, Christians must be charged and
persecuted as the causes thereof. To them it was that Julian and
other pagans did impute all the discussions, confusions, and
devastations falling upon the Roman Empire. The sacking of Rome by
the Goths they cast upon Christianity; for the vindication of it
from which reproach St. Augustine did write those renowned books 'De
Civitate Dei.' So liable are the best and most innocent sort of men
to be calumniously accused in this manner.
Another practice (worthily bearing the guilt of slander) is, aiding
and being accessory thereto, by anywise furthering, cherishing,
abetting it. He that by crafty significations of ill-will doth
prompt the slanderer to vent his poison; he that by a willing
audience and attention doth readily suck it up, or who greedily
swalloweth it down by credulous approbation and assent; he that
pleasingly relisheth and smacketh at it, or expresseth a delightful
complacence therein; as he is a partner in the fact, so he is a
sharer in the guilt. There are not only slanderous throats, but
slanderous ears also; not only wicked inventions, which engender and
brood lies, but wicked assents, which hatch and foster them. Not
only the spiteful mother that conceiveth such spurious brats, but
the midwife that helpeth to bring them forth, the nurse that feedeth
them, the guardian that traineth them up to maturity, and setteth
them forth to live in the world; as they do really contribute to
their subsistence, so deservedly they partake in the blame due to
them, and must be responsible for the mischief they do.
BASIL THE GREAT (329-379)
Basil the Great, born at Caesarea in Cappadocia A. D. 329, was one
of the leading orators of the Christian Church in the fourth
century. He was a friend of the famous Gregory of Nazianzus, and
Gregory of Nyssa was his brother.
The spirit of his time was one of change. The foundations of the
Roman world were undermined. The old classical civilization of
beauty and order had reached its climax and reacted on itself; the
Greek worship of the graceful; the Roman love of the regular, the
strong, the martial, the magnificent, had failed to save the world
from a degradation which, under the degeneracy of the later Caesars,
had become indescribable. The early Christians, filled with a
profound conviction of the infernal origin of the corruption of the
decaying civilization they saw around them, were moved by such a
compelling desire to escape it as later times can never realize and
hardly imagine. Moved by this spirit, the earnest young men of the
time, educated as Basil was in the philosophy, the poetry, and the
science of the classical times, still felt that having this they
would lose everything unless they could escape the influences of the
world around them. They did not clearly discriminate between what
was within and without themselves. It was not clear to them whether
the corruption of an effete civilization was not the necessary
corruption of all human nature including their own. This doubt sent
men like Basil to the desert to attempt, by fasting and scourging,
to get such mastery over their bodies as to compel every rebellious
nerve and stubborn muscle to yield instant obedience to their
aspirations after a more than human perfection. If they never
attained their ideal; if we find them coming out of the desert, as
they sometimes did, to engage in controversies, often fierce and
unsaintly enough, we can see, nevertheless, how the deep emotions of
their struggle after a higher life made them the great orators they
were. Their language came from profound depths of feeling. Often
their very earnestness betrays them into what for later ages is
unintelligibility. Only antiquarians now can understand how deeply
the minds of the earlier centuries of the New Order, which saved
progress from going down into the bottomless pit of classical
decadence, were stirred by controversies over prepositions and
conjunctions. But if we remember that in all of it, the men who
are sometimes ridiculed as mere ascetics, mere pedants, were moved
by a profound sense of their duty to save a world so demoralized, so
shameless in the pursuit of everything sensual and base, that
nothing short of their sublime enthusiasm, their very madness of
contempt for the material and the sensual, could have saved it.
After studying in Constantinople and in Athens, the spirit of the
Reformers of his time took hold on Basil and, under the ascetic
impulse, he visited the hermits of Arabia and Asia Minor, hoping to
learn sanctity from them. He founded a convent in Pontus, which his
mother and sister entered. After his ordination as "Presbyter." he
was involved in the great Arian controversy, and the ability he
showed as a disputant probably had much to do with his promotion to
the bishopric of Caesarea. In meeting the responsibilities of that
office, his courage and eloquence made him famous. When threatened
by the Emperor Valens, he replied that having nothing but a few
books and his cloak, he did not fear confiscation of his goods; that
he could not be exiled, since the whole earth was the Lord's; that
torture and death would merely put an end to his labors and bring
him nearer to the God for whom he longed. He died at Caesarea
A. D. 379. Such men must be judged from their own standpoints. It is
worth much to understand them.
The sermon 'To the Fallen,' here used from Fish's translation, was
greatly admired by Fenelon, who calls it a masterpiece. It was
occasioned by a nun's breaking a vow of perpetual virginity.
ON A RECREANT NUN
It is time, now, to take up the exclamation of the Prophet: "O that
my head were waters, and mine eyes a fountain of tears, that I might
weep for the wounded of the daughter of my people!"--Jer. ix. i.
For, although they are wrapped in profound silence, and lie quite
stupefied by their calamity, and deprived, by their deadly wound,
even of the very sense of suffering, yet it does not become us to
withhold our tears over so sad a fall. For if Jeremiah deemed those
worthy of countless lamentations who had received bodily wounds in
battle, what shall we say when souls are involved in so great a
calamity? "Thy wounded," says the Prophet, "are not wounded with
the sword, and thy dead are not the dead of war." But my
lamentation is for grievous sin, the sting of the true death, and
for the fiery darts of the wicked, which have cruelly kindled a
flame in both body and soul. Well might the laws of God groan
within themselves, beholding such pollution on earth, those laws
which always utter their loud prohibition, saying in olden time,
"Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor's wife"; and in the Gospels,
"That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her, hath committed
adultery with her already in his heart." But now they behold the
very bride of the Lord--her of whom Christ is the head--
committing adultery without fear or shame. Yes, the very spirits of
departed saints may well groan, the zealous Phineas, that it is not
permitted to him now to snatch the spear and to punish the loathsome
sin with a summary corporeal vengeance; and John the Baptist, that
he cannot now leave the celestial abodes, as he once left the
wilderness, and hasten to rebuke the transgression, and if the
sacrifice were called for, to lay down his head sooner than abate
the severity of his reproof. Nay, let us rather say that, like
blessed Abel, John "being dead yet speaketh," and now lifts up his
voice with a yet louder cry than in the case of Herodias, saying,
"It is not lawful for thee to have her." For, although the body of
John, yielding to the inevitable sentence of God, has paid the debt
of nature, and his tongue is silent, yet "the word of God is not
bound." And he who, when the marriage covenant had been violated in
the case of a fellow-servant, was faithful even unto death with his
stern reproofs, what must he have felt if he had seen the holy
bride-chamber of the Lord thus wantonly outraged?
But as for thee, O thou who hast thus cast off the yoke of that
divine union, and deserted the undefiled chamber of the true King,
and shamefully fallen into this disgraceful and impious defilement,
since thou hast no way of evading this bitter charge, and no method
or artifice can avail to conceal thy fearful crime, thou boldly
hardenest thyself in guilt. And as he who has once fallen into the
abyss of crime becomes henceforth an impious despiser, so thou
deniest thy very covenant with the true bridegroom; alleging that
thou wast not a virgin, and hadst never taken the vow, although thou
hast both received and given many pledges of virginity. Remember
the good confession which thou hast made before God and angels and
men. Remember that venerable assembly, and the sacred choir of
virgins, and the congregation of the Lord, and the Church of the
saints. Remember thy aged grandmother in Christ, whose Christian
virtues still flourish in the vigor of youth; and thy mother in the
Lord, who vies with the former, and strives by new and unwonted
endeavors to dissolve the bands of custom; and thy sister likewise,
in some things their imitator, and in some aspiring to excel them,
and to surpass in the merits of virginity the attainments of her
progenitors, and both in word and deed diligently inviting thee, her
sister, as is meet, to the same competition. Remember these, and
the angelic company associated with them in the service of the Lord,
and the spiritual life though yet in the flesh, and the heavenly
converse upon earth. Remember the tranquil days and the luminous
nights, and the spiritual songs, and the melodious psalmody, and the
holy prayers, and the chaste and undefiled couch, and the progress
in virginal purity, and the temperate diet so helpful in preserving
thy virginity uncontaminated. And where is now that grave
deportment, and that modest mien, and that plain attire which so
become a virgin, and that beautiful blush of bashfulness, and that
comely paleness--the delicate bloom of abstinence and vigils, that
outshines every ruddier glow. How often in prayer that thou
mightest keep unspotted thy virginal purity hast thou poured forth
thy tears! How many letters hast thou indited to holy men,
imploring their prayers, not that thou mightest obtain these human
--nuptials, shall I call them? rather this dishonorable defilement
--but that thou mightest not fall away from the Lord Jesus? How
often hast thou received the gifts of the spouse! And why should I
mention also the honors accorded for his sake by those who are his
--the companionship of the virgins, journeyings with them, welcomes
from them, encomiums on virginity, blessings bestowed by virgins,
letters addressed to thee as to a virgin! But now, having been just
breathed upon by the aerial spirit that worketh in the children of
disobedience, thou hast denied all these, and hast bartered that
precious and enviable possession for a brief pleasure, which is
sweet to thy taste for a moment, but which afterward thou wilt find
bitterer than gall.
Besides all this, who can avoid exclaiming with grief, "How is Zion,
the faithful city, become an harlot!" Nay, does not the Lord
himself say to some who now walk in the spirit of Jeremiah, "Hast
thou seen what the virgin of Israel hath done unto me?" "I
betrothed her unto me in faith and purity, in righteousness and in
judgment, and in loving-kindness and in mercies," even as I promised
her by Hosea, the prophet. But she has loved strangers; and even
while I her husband lived, she has made herself an adulteress, and
has not feared to become the wife of another husband. And what
would the bride's guardian and conductor say, the divine and blessed
Paul? Both the ancient Apostle, and this modern one, under whose
auspices and instruction thou didst leave thy father's house, and
join thyself to the Lord? Would not each, filled with grief at the
great calamity, say, "The thing which I greatly feared has come upon
me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me," for "I espoused
you unto one husband, that I might present you as a chaste virgin to
Christ"; and I was always fearful, lest in some way as the serpent
beguiled Eve by his subtilty, so thy mind should sometime be
corrupted. And on this account I always endeavored, like a skillful
charmer, by innumerable incantations, to suppress the tumult of the
passions, and by a thousand safeguards to secure the bride of the
Lord, rehearsing again and again the manner of her who is unmarried,
how that she only "careth for the things of the Lord, that she may
be holy both in body and in spirit"; and I set forth the honor of
virginity, calling thee the temple of God, that I might add wings to
thy zeal, and help thee upward to Jesus; and I also had recourse to
the fear of evil, to prevent thee from falling, telling thee that
"if any man defile the temple of God, him shall God destroy." I
also added the assistance of my prayers, that, if possible, "thy
whole body, and soul, and spirit might be preserved blameless unto
the coming of our Lord Jesus Christ," But all this labor I have
spent in vain upon thee; and those sweet toils have ended in a
bitter disappointment; and now I must again groan over her of whom I
ought to have joy. For lo, thou hast been beguiled by the serpent
more bitterly than Eve; for not only has thy mind become defiled,
but with it thy very body also, and what is still more horrible--I
dread to say it, but I cannot suppress it; for it is as fire burning
and blazing in my bones, and I am dissolving in every part and
cannot endure it--thou hast taken the members of Christ, and made
them the members of a harlot. This is incomparably the greatest
evil of all. This is a new crime in the world, to which we may
apply the words of the Prophet, "Pass over the isles of Chittim, and
see; and send unto Kedar, and consider diligently, and see if there
be such a thing. Hath a nation changed their gods, which are yet no
gods?" For the virgin hath changed her glory, and now glories in
her shame. The heavens are astonished at this, and the earth
trembleth very exceedingly. Now, also, the Lord says, the virgin
hath committed two evils, she hath forsaken me, the true and holy
bridegroom of sanctified souls, and hath fled to an impious and
lawless polluter of the body, and corrupter of the soul. She hath
turned away from God her Savior, and hath yielded her members
servants to imparity and iniquity; she bath forgotten me, and gone
after her lover, by whom she shall not profit.
It were better for him that a millstone were hanged about his neck,
and he cast into the sea, than that he should cause one of the
Lord's virgins to offend. What impudent servant ever carried his
insane audacity so far as to fling himself upon the couch of his
lord? Or what robber has ever become so madly hardened as to lay
hands upon the very offerings devoted to God?--but here it is not
inanimate vessels, but living bodies, inhabited by souls made in the
image of God. Since the beginning of the world was any one ever
heard of, who dared, in the midst of a great city, in broad midday,
to deface the likeness of a king by inscribing upon it the forms of
filthy swine? He that despises human nuptials dies without mercy
under two or three witnesses; of how much sorer punishment, suppose
ye, shall he be thought worthy who hath trodden under foot the Son
of God, and defiled his espoused wife, and done despite to the
spirit of virginity? . . .
But, after all this, "shall they fall and not arise? shall he turn
away and not return?" Why hath the virgin turned away in so
shameless an apostasy?--and that, too, after having heard Christ,
the bridegroom, saying by Jeremiah, "And I said, after she had
lewdly done all these things, turn thou unto me. But she returned
not," "Is there no balm in Gilead? Is there no physician there?
Why, then, is not the health of the daughter of my people
recovered?" Truly thou mightest find in the Divine Scriptures many
remedies for such an evil--many medicines that recover from
perdition and restore to life; mysterious words about death and
resurrection, a dreadful judgment, and everlasting punishment; the
doctrines of repentance and remission of sins; those innumerable
examples of conversion--the piece of silver, the lost sheep, the
son that had devoured his living with harlots, that was lost and
found, that was dead and alive again. Let us use these remedies for
the evil; with these let us heal our souls. Think, too, of thy last
day (for thou art not to live always, more than others), of the
distress, and the anguish, as the hour of death draws nearer, of the
impending sentence of God, of the angels moving on rapid wing, of
the soul fearfully agitated by all these things, and bitterly
tormented by a guilty conscience, and clinging pitifully to the
things here below, and still under the inevitable necessity of
taking its departure. Picture to thy mind the final dissolution of
all that belongs to our present life, when the Son of Man shall come
in his glory, with his holy angels; for he "shall come, and shall
not keep silence," when he shall come to judge the living and the
dead, and to render to every man according to his work; when the
trumpet, with its loud and terrible echo, shall awaken those who
have slept from the beginning of the world, and they shall come
forth, they that have done good to the resurrection of the life, and
they that have done evil to the resurrection of damnation. Remember
the divine vision of Daniel, how he brings the judgment before our
eyes. "I beheld," says he, "till the thrones were placed, and the
Ancient of days did sit, whose garment was white as snow, and the
hair of his head like the pure wool; his throne was like the fiery
flame, and his wheels as burning fire. A fiery stream issued and
came forth from before him; thousand thousands ministered unto him,
and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him; the judgment
was set, and the books were opened," revealing all at once in the
hearing of all men and all angels, all things, whether good or bad,
open or secret, deeds, words, thoughts. What effect must all these
things have on those who have lived viciously? Where, then, shall
the soul, thus suddenly revealed in all the fullness of its shame in
the eyes of such a multitude of spectators--Oh, where shall it
hide itself? In what body can it endure those unbounded and
intolerable torments of the unquenchable fire, and the tortures of
the undying worm, and the dark and frightful abyss of hell, and the
bitter howlings, and woeful wailings, and weeping, and gnashing of
teeth; and all these dire woes without end? Deliverance from these
after death there is none; neither is there any device, nor
contrivance, for escaping these bitter torments. But now it is
possible to escape them. Now, then, while it is possible, let us
recover ourselves from our fall, let us not despair of restoration,
if we break loose from our vices. Jesus Christ came into the world
to save sinners. "Oh, come, let us worship and bow down," let us
weep before him. His word, calling us to repentance, lifts up its
voice and cries aloud, "Come unto me all ye that labor and are heavy
laden, and I will give you rest." There is, then, a way to be
saved, if we will Death has prevailed and swallowed us up; but be
assured, that God will wipe away every tear from the face of every
penitent. The Lord is faithful in all his words. He does not lie,
when he says, "Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be as
white as snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as
wool." The great Physician of souls is ready to heal thy disease;
he is the prompt Deliverer, not of thee alone, but of all who are in
bondage to sin. These are his words,--his sweet and life-giving
lips pronounced them,--"They that be whole need not a physician, but
they that are sick. I am not come to call the righteous, but
sinners to repentance." What excuse, then, remains to thee, or to
any one else, when he utters such language as this? The Lord is
willing to heal thy painful wound, and to enlighten thy darkness.
The Good Shepherd leaves the sheep who have not strayed, to seek for
thee. If thou give thyself up to him, he will not delay, he in his
mercy will not disdain to carry thee upon his own shoulders,
rejoicing that he has found his sheep which was lost. The Father
stands waiting thy return from thy wanderings. Only arise and come,
and whilst thou art yet a great way off he will run and fall upon
thy neck; and, purified at once by thy repentance, thou shalt be
enfolded in the embraces of his friendship. He will put the best
robe on thy soul, when it has put off the old man with his deeds; he
will put a ring on thy hands when they have been washed from the
blood of death; he will put shoes on thy feet, when they have turned
from the evil way to the path of the Gospel of peace; and he will
proclaim a day of joy and gladness to the whole family of both
angels and men, and will celebrate thy salvation with every form of
rejoicing. For he himself says, "Verily I say unto you, that joy
shall be in heaven before God over one sinner that repenteth." And
if any of those that stand by should seem to find fault, because
thou art so quickly received, the good Father himself will plead for
thee, saying, "It was meet that we should make merry and be glad;
for this my daughter was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and
is found."
RICHARD BAXTER (1615-1691)
Richard Baxter, author of 'The Saints' Everlasting Rest' and of
other works to the extent of sixty octavo volumes, was called by
Doddridge "the English Demosthenes." He was born November 12th.
1615, in Shropshire, England, and was admitted to orders in the
English Church in 1638. He refused, however, to take the oath of
"Submission to Archbishops. Bishops," etc., and established himself
as the pastor of a dissenting church in Kidderminster. He was twice
imprisoned for refusing to conform to the requirements of the
Established Church. He died in 1691. One of his critics says of
him:--
"The leading characteristics of Baxter are, eminent piety and vigor
of intellect, keenness of logic, burning power and plainness of
language, melting pathos, cloudless perspicuity, graceful
description, and a certain vehemence of feeling which brings home
his words with an irresistible force."
The sermon here extracted from was preached first at Kidderminster
and afterwards at London, and it is said it produced "a profound
sensation." As published entire, under the title 'Making Light of
Christ and Salvation,' it makes a considerable volume.
UNWILLINGNESS TO IMPROVE
Beloved hearers, the office that God bath called us to, is by
declaring the glory of his grace, to help under Christ to the saving
of men's souls, I hope you think not that I come hither to-day on
any other errand. The Lord knows I had not set a foot out of doors
but in hope to succeed in this work for your souls. I have
considered, and often considered, what is the matter that so many
thousands should perish when God hath done so much for their
salvation; and I find this that is mentioned in my text is the
cause. It is one of the wonders of the world, that when God hath so
loved the world as to send his Son, and Christ hath made a
satisfaction by his death sufficient for them all and offereth the
benefits of it so freely to them, even without money or price, that
yet the most of the world should perish; yea, the most of those
that are thus called by his word! Why, here is the reason, when
Christ hath done all this, men make light of it. God hath showed
that he is not unwilling; and Christ hath showed that he is not
unwilling that men should be restored to God's favor and be saved;
but men are actually unwilling themselves. God takes not pleasure
in the death of sinners, but rather that they return and live. But
men take such pleasure in sin that they will die before they will
return. The Lord Jesus was content to be their Physician, and hath
provided them a sufficient plaster of his own blood: but if men make
light of it, and will not apply it, what wonder if they perish after
all? The Scripture giveth us the reason of their perdition. This,
sad experience tells us, the most of the world is guilty of. It is
a most lamentable thing to see how most men do spend their care,
their time, their pains, for known vanities, while God and glory are
cast aside; that he who is all should seem to them as nothing, and
that which is nothing should seem to them as good as all; that God
should set mankind in such a race where heaven or hell is their
certain end, and that they should sit down, and loiter, or run after
the childish toys of the world, and so much forget the prize that
they should run for. Were it but possible for one of us to see the
whole of this business as the all-seeing God doth; to see at one
view both heaven and hell, which men are so near; and see what most
men in the world are minding, and what they are doing every day, it
would be the saddest sight that could be imagined. Oh how should we
marvel at their madness, and lament their self-delusion! Oh poor
distracted world! what is it you run after? and what is it that
you neglect? If God had never told them what they were sent into
the world to do, or whither they are going, or what was before them
in another world, then they had been excusable; but he hath told
them over and over, till they were weary of it. Had he left it
doubtful, there had been some excuse; but it is his sealed word, and
they profess to believe it, and would take it ill of us if we should
question whether they do believe it or not.
Beloved, I come not to accuse any of you particularly of this crime;
but seeing it is the commonest cause of men's destruction, I suppose
you will judge it the fittest matter for our inquiry, and deserving
our greatest care for the cure, To which end I shall, 1. Endeavor
the conviction of the guilty, 2. Shall give them such considerations
as may tend to humble and reform them. 3. I shall conclude with
such direction as may help them that are willing to escape the
destroying power of this sin. And for the first, consider:--
1. It is the case of most sinners to think themselves freest from
those sins that they are most enslaved to; and one reason why we
cannot reform them, is because we cannot convince them of their
guilt. It is the nature of sin so far to blind and befool the
sinner, that he knoweth not what he doth, but thinketh he is free
from it when it reigneth in him, or when he is committing it; it
bringeth men to be so much unacquainted with themselves that they
know not what they think, or what they mean and intend, nor what
they love or hate, much less what they are habituated and
disposed to. They are alive to sin, and dead to all the reason,
consideration, and resolution that should recover them, as if it
were only by their sinning that we must know they are alive. May
I hope that you that hear me to-day are but willing to know the
truth of your case, and then I shall be encouraged to proceed to
an inquiry. God will judge impartially; why should not we do so?
Let me, therefore, by these following questions, try whether none
of you are slighters of Christ and your own salvation. And follow
me, I beseech you, by putting them close to your own hearts, and
faithfully answering them.
1. Things that men highly value will be remembered; they will be
matter of their freest and sweetest thoughts. This is a known
case.
Do not those then make light of Christ and salvation that think of
them so seldom and coldly in comparison of other things? Follow thy
own heart, man, and observe what it daily runneth after; and then
judge whether it make not light of Christ.
We cannot persuade men to one hour's sober consideration what they
should do for an interest in Christ, or in thankfulness for his
love, and yet they will not believe that they make light of him.
2. Things that we highly value will be matter of our discourse; the
judgment and heart will command the tongue. Freely and
delightfully will our speech run after them. This also is a known
case.
Do not those men make light of Christ and salvation that shun the
mention of his name, unless it be in a vain or sinful use? Those
that love not the company where Christ and salvation is much talked
of, but think it troublesome, precise discourse; that had rather
hear some merry jests, or idle tales, or talk of their riches or
business in the world? When you may follow them from morning to
night, and scarce have a savory word of Christ; but, perhaps, some
slight and weary mention of him sometimes; judge whether these make
not light of Christ and salvation. How seriously do they talk of the
world and speak vanity! but how heartlessly do they make mention of
Christ and salvation!
3. The things that we highly value we would secure the possession
of, and, therefore, would take any convenient course to have all
doubts and fears about them well resolved. Do not those men then
make light of Christ and salvation that have lived twenty or
thirty years in uncertainty whether they have any part in these
or not, and yet never seek out for the right resolution of their
doubts? Are all that hear me this day certain they shall be
saved? Oh that they were! Oh, had you not made light of
salvation, you could not so easily bear such doubting of it; you
could not rest till you had made it sure, or done your best to
make it sure. Have you nobody to inquire of, that might help you
in such a work? Why, you have ministers that are purposely
appointed to that office. Have you gone to them, and told them
the doubtfulness of your case, and asked their help in the
judging of your condition? Alas, ministers may sit in their
studies from one year to another, before ten persons among a
thousand will come to them on such an errand! Do not these make
light of Christ and salvation? When the Gospel pierceth the heart
indeed, they cry out, "Men and brethren, what shall we do to be
saved?" Trembling and astonished, Paul cries out, "Lord, what
wilt thou have me to do?" And so did the convinced Jews to
Peter. But when hear we such questions?
4. The things that we value do deeply affect us, and some motions
will be in the heart according to our estimation of them. O sirs,
if men made not light of these things, what working would there be
in the hearts of all our hearers! What strange affections would it
raise in them to hear of the matters of the world to come! How
would their hearts melt before the power of the Gospel! What sorrow
would be wrought in the discovery of their sins! What astonishment
at the consideration of their misery! What unspeakable joy at the
glad tidings of salvation by the blood of Christ! What resolution
would be raised in them upon the discovery of their duty! Oh what
hearers should we have, if it were not for this sin! Whereas, now
we are liker to weary them, or preach them asleep with matters of
this unspeakable moment. We talk to them of Christ and salvation
till we make their heads ache; little would one think by their
careless carriage that they heard and regarded what we said, or
thought we spoke at all to them.
5. Our estimation of things will be seen in the diligence of our
endeavors. That which we highliest value, we shall think no pains
too great to obtain. Do not those men then make light of Christ
and salvation that think all too much that they do for them; that
murmur at his service, and think it too grievous for them to
endure? that ask of his service as Judas of the ointment, What
need this waste? Cannot men be saved without so much ado? This is
more ado than needs. For the world they will labor all the day,
and all their lives; but for Christ and salvation they are afraid
of doing too much. Let us preach to them as long as we will, we
cannot bring them to relish or resolve upon a life of holiness.
Follow them to their houses, and you shall not hear them read a
chapter, nor call upon God with their families once a day; nor will
they allow him that one day in seven which he hath separated to his
service. But pleasure, or worldly business, or idleness, must have a
part. And many of them are so far hardened as to reproach them that
will not be as mad as themselves. And is not Christ worth the
seeking? Is not everlasting salvation worth more than all this? Doth
not that soul make light of all these that thinks his ease more worth
than they? Let but common sense judge.
6. That which we most highly value, we think we cannot buy too dear:
Christ and salvation are freely given, and yet the most of men go
without them because they cannot enjoy the world and them together.
They are called but to part with that which would hinder them from
Christ, and they will not do it. They are called but to give God
his own, and to resign all to his will, and let go the profits and
pleasures of this world when they must let go either Christ or them,
and they will not. They think this too dear a bargain, and say they
cannot spare these things; they must hold their credit with men;
they must look to their estates: how shall they live else? They
must have their pleasure, whatsoever becomes of Christ and
salvation: as if they could live without Christ better than without
these: as if they were afraid of being losers by Christ or could
make a saving match by losing their souls to gain the world. Christ
hath told us over and over that if we will not forsake all for him
we cannot be his disciples. Far are these men from forsaking all,
and yet will needs think that they are his disciples indeed.
7. That which men highly esteem, they would help their friends to as
well as themselves. Do not those men make light of Christ and
salvation that can take so much care to leave their children
portions in the world, and do so little to help them to heaven?
that provide outward necessaries so carefully for their families,
but do so little to the saving of their souls? Their neglected
children and friends will witness that either Christ, or their
children's souls, or both, were made light of.
8. That which men highly esteem, they will so diligently seek after
that you may see it in the success, if it be a matter within
their reach. You may see how many make light of Christ, by the
little knowledge they have of him, and the little communion with
him, and communication from him; and the little, yea, none of his
special grace in them. Alas! how many ministers can speak it to
the sorrow of their hearts, that many of their people know almost
nothing of Christ, though they hear of him daily! Nor know they
what they must do to be saved: if we ask them an account of these
things, they answer as if they understood not what we say to
them, and tell us they are no scholars, and therefore think they
are excusable for their ignorance. Oh if these men had not made
light of Christ and their salvation, but had bestowed but half as
much pains to know and enjoy him as they have done to understand
the matters of their trades and callings in the world, they would
not have been so ignorant as they are: they make light of these
things, and therefore will not be at the pains to study or learn
them. When men that can learn the hardest trade in a few years
have not learned a catechism, nor how to understand their creed,
under twenty or thirty years' preaching, nor can abide to be
questioned about such things, doth not this show that they have
slighted them in their hearts? How will these despisers of Christ
and salvation be able one day to look him in the face, and to
give an account of these neglects?
JAMES A. BAYARD (1767-1815)
During the first decade of the nineteenth century, a most important
formative period of American history, James A. Bayard was the
recognized leader of the Federalists in the Senate. They had lost
the presidential election of 1800, and their party had been so
completely disorganized by the defeat that they never recovered from
it, nor won, as a party, another victory. Defeat, however, did not
prevent them from making a stubborn fight for principle--from
filing, as it were, an appeal from the first to the third quarter of
the century. In this James A. Bayard was their special advocate and
representative. The pleas he made in his celebrated speech on the
Judiciary, delivered in the House of Representatives, and in similar
speeches in the Senate, defined as they had not been defined before,
the views of that body of Conservatives whose refusal to accept the
defeat of 1800 as anything more than an ephemeral incident, led to
the far-reaching results achieved by other parties which their ideas
brought into existence. It was said of Bayard, as their
representative and leader, that "he was distinguished for the depth
of his knowledge, the solidity of his reasoning, and the perspicuity
of his illustration." He was called "the Goliath of Federalism,"
and "the high priest of the constitution," by the opponents of
"Jacobinism." as Federalists often termed Jeffersonian democracy.
Mr. Bayard was born in Philadelphia, July 28th, 1767. His father,
Dr. James A. Bayard, claimed his descent from the celebrated
"Chevalier" Bayard,--a fact which greatly influenced the son as it
has others of the family who have succeeded him in public life.
Thus when offered the French mission James A. Bayard declined it,
fearing that it might involve the suspicion of a bargain. "My
ambitions," he wrote in a letter to a relative, "shall never be
gratified at the expense of a suspicion. I shall never lose sight
of the motto of the great original of our name."
After preparing for the bar. Bayard settled in Delaware and in 1796
that State elected him to the lower house of Congress, promoting him
in 1804 to the Senate and re-electing him at the expiration of his
first term. In 1813, President Madison appointed him one of the
Commissioners to conclude the treaty of peace with England.
After the success of that mission, he was appointed minister to
Russia, but declined saying that he had "no wish to serve the
administration except when his services were necessary for the
public good." He died in August 1815.
His speeches show a strong and comprehensive grasp of facts, a power
to present them in logical sequence, and an apprehension of
principle which is not often seen in public speeches. They were
addressed, however, only to the few who will take the pains to do
severe and connected thinking and they are never likely to become
extensively popular.
THE FEDERAL JUDICIARY
(Delivered on the Judiciary Bill, in the House of Representatives,
on the Nineteenth of February, 1802)
Mr. Chairman:--
I must be allowed to express my surprise at the course pursued by
the honorable gentleman from Virginia, Mr. Giles, in the remarks
which be has made on the subject before us. I had expected that he
would have adopted a different line of conduct. I had expected it
as well from that sentiment of magnanimity which ought to have been
inspired by a sense of the high ground he holds on the floor of this
House, as from the professions of a desire to conciliate, which he
has so repeatedly made during the session. We have been invited to
bury the hatchet, and brighten the chain of peace. We were disposed
to meet on middle-ground. We had assurances from the gentleman that
he would abstain from reflections on the past, and that his only
wish was that we might unite in future in promoting the welfare of
our common country. We confided in the gentleman's sincerity, and
cherished the hope, that if the divisions of party were not banished
from the House, its spirit would be rendered less intemperate. Such
were our impressions, when the mask was suddenly thrown aside, and
we saw the torch of discord lighted and blazing before our eyes.
Every effort has been made to revive the animosities of the House
and inflame the passions of the nation. I am at no loss to perceive
why this course has been pursued. The gentleman has been unwilling
to rely upon the strength of his subject, and has, therefore,
determined to make the measure a party question. He has probably
secured success, but would it not have been more honorable and more
commendable to have left the decision of a great constitutional
question to the understanding, and not to the prejudices of the
House? It was my ardent wish to discuss the subject with calmness
and deliberation, and I did intend to avoid every topic which could
awaken the sensibility of party. This was my temper and design when
I took my seat yesterday. It is a course at present we are no
longer at liberty to pursue. The gentleman has wandered far, very
far, from the points of the debate, and has extended his
animadversions to all the prominent measures of the former
administrations. In following him through his preliminary
observations, I necessarily lose sight of the bill upon your table.
The gentleman commenced his strictures with the philosophic
observation, that it was the fate of mankind to hold different
opinions as to the form of government which was preferable; that
some were attached to the monarchical, while others thought the
republican more eligible. This, as an abstract remark, is certainly
true, and could have furnished no ground of offense, if it had not
evidently appeared that an allusion was designed to be made to the
parties in this country. Does the gentleman suppose that we have a
less lively recollection than himself, of the oath which we have
taken to support the constitution; that we are less sensible of the
spirit of our government, or less devoted to the wishes of our
constituents? Whatever impression it might be the intention of the
gentleman to make, he does not believe that there exists in the
country an anti-republican party. He will not venture to assert
such an opinion on the floor of this House. That there may be a few
individuals having a preference for monarchy is not improbable; but
will the gentleman from Virginia, or any other gentleman, affirm in
his place, that there is a party in the country who wish to
establish monarchy? Insinuations of this sort belong not to the
legislature of the Union. Their place is an election ground, or an
alehouse. Within these walls they are lost; abroad, they have had
an effect, and I fear are still capable of abusing popular
credulity.
We were next told of the parties which have existed, divided by the
opposite views of promoting executive power and guarding the rights
of the people. The gentleman did not tell us in plain language, but
he wished it to be understood, that he and his friends were the
guardians of the people's rights, and that we were the advocates of
executive power.
I know that this is the distinction of party which some gentlemen
have been anxious to establish; but it is not the ground on which we
divide. I am satisfied with the constitutional powers of the
executive, and never wished nor attempted to increase them; and I do
not believe, that gentlemen on the other side of the House ever had
a serious apprehension of danger from an increase of executive
authority. No, sir, our views, as to the powers which do and ought
to belong to the general and State governments, are the true sources
of our divisions. I co-operate with the party to which I am
attached, because I believe their true object and end is an honest
and efficient support of the general government, in the exercise of
the legitimate powers of the constitution.
I pray to God I may be mistaken in the opinion I entertain as to the
designs of gentlemen to whom I am opposed. Those designs I believe
hostile to the powers of this government. State pride extinguishes a
national sentiment. Whatever power is taken from this government is
given to the States.
The ruins of this government aggrandize the States. There are
States which are too proud to be controlled; whose sense of
greatness and resource renders them indifferent to our protection,
and induces a belief that if no general government existed, their
influence would be more extensive, and their importance more
conspicuous. There are gentlemen who make no secret of an extreme
point of depression, to which the government is to be sunk. To that
point we are rapidly progressing. But I would beg gentlemen to
remember that human affairs are not to be arrested in their course,
at artificial points. The impulse now given may be accelerated by
causes at present out of view. And when those, who now design well,
wish to stop, they may find their powers unable to resist the
torrent. It is not true, that we ever wished to give a dangerous
strength to executive power. While the government was in our hands,
it was our duty to maintain its constitutional balance, by
preserving the energies of each branch. There never was an attempt
to vary the relation of its powers. The struggle was to maintain
the constitutional powers of the executive. The wild principles of
French liberty were scattered through the country. We had our
Jacobins and disorganizes. They saw no difference between a king
and a president, and as the people of France had put down their
King, they thought the people of America ought to put down their
President. They, who considered the constitution as securing all
the principles of rational and practicable liberty, who were
unwilling to embark upon the tempestuous sea of revolution in
pursuit of visionary schemes, were denounced as monarchists. A line
was drawn between the government and the people, and the friends of
the government were marked as the enemies of the people. I hope,
however, that the government and the people are now the same; and I
pray to God, that what has been frequently remarked, may not, in
this case, be discovered to be true that they, who have the name of
the people the most often in their mouths, have their true interests
the most seldom at their hearts.
The honorable gentleman from Virginia wandered to the very confines
of the federal administration, in search of materials the most
inflammable and most capable of kindling the passions of his
party. ...
I did suppose, sir, that this business was at an end; and I did
imagine, that as gentlemen had accomplished their object, they would
have been satisfied. But as the subject is again renewed, we must be
allowed to justify our conduct. I know not what the gentleman calls
an expression of the public will. There were two candidates for the
office of President, who were presented to the House of
Representatives with equal suffrages. The constitution gave us the
right and made it our duty to elect that one of the two whom we
thought preferable. A public man is to notice the public will as
constitutionally expressed. The gentleman from Virginia, and many
others, may have had their preference; but that preference of the
public will not appear by its constitutional expression. Sir, I am
not certain that either of those candidates had a majority of the
country in his favor. Excluding the State of South Carolina, the
country was equally divided. We know that parties in that State were
nearly equally balanced, and the claims of both the candidates were
supported by no other scrutiny into the public will than our
official return of votes. Those votes are very imperfect evidence of
the true will of a majority of the nation. They resulted from
political intrigue and artificial arrangement.
When we look at the votes, we must suppose that every man in
Virginia voted the same way. These votes are received as a correct
expression of the public will. And yet we know that if the votes of
that State were apportioned according to the several voices of the
people, that at least seven out of twenty-one would have been
opposed to the successful candidate. It was the suppression of the
will of one-third of Virginia, which enables gentlemen now to say
that the present chief magistrate is the man of the people. I
consider that as the public will, which is expressed by
constitutional organs. To that will I bow and submit. The public
will, thus manifested, gave to the House of Representatives the
choice of the two men for President. Neither of them was the man
whom I wished to make President; but my election was confined by the
constitution to one of the two, and I gave my vote to the one whom I
thought was the greater and better man. That vote I repeated, and
in that vote I should have persisted, had I not been driven from it
by imperious necessity. The prospect ceased of the vote being
effectual, and the alternative only remained of taking one man for
President, or having no President at all. I chose, as I then
thought, the lesser evil.
From the scene in this House, the gentleman carried us to one in the
Senate. I should blush, sir, for the honor of the country, could I
suppose that the law, designed to be repealed, owed its support in
that body to the motives which have been indicated. The charge
designed to be conveyed, not only deeply implicates the integrity of
individuals of the Senate, but of the person who was then the chief
magistrate. The gentleman, going beyond all precedent, has mentioned
the names of members of that body, to whom commissions issued for
offices not created by the bill before them, but which that bill, by
the promotions it afforded, was likely to render vacant. He has
considered the scandal of the transaction as aggravated by the
issuing of commissions for offices not actually vacant, upon the
bare presumption that they would become vacant by the incumbents
accepting commissions for higher offices which were issued in their
favor. The gentleman has particularly dwelt upon the indecent
appearance of the business, from two commissions being held by
different persons at the same time for the same office.
I beg that it will be understood that I mean to give no opinion as
to the regularity of granting a commission for a judicial office,
upon the probability of a vacancy before it is actually vacant; but
I shall be allowed to say that so much doubt attends the point, that
an innocent mistake might be made on the subject. I believe, sir,
it has been the practice to consider the acceptance of an office as
relating to the date of the commission. The officer is allowed his
salary from that date, upon the principle that the commission is a
grant of the office, and the title commences with the date of the
grant. This principle is certainly liable to abuse, but where there
was a suspicion of abuse I presume the government would depart from
it. Admitting the office to pass by the commission, and the
acceptance to relate to its date, it then does not appear very
incorrect, in the case of a commission for the office of a circuit
judge, granted to a district judge, as the acceptance of the
commission for the former office relates to the date of the
commission, to consider the latter office as vacant from the same
time. The offices are incompatible. You cannot suppose the same
person in both offices at the same time. From the moment,
therefore, that you consider the office of circuit judge as filled
by a person who holds the commission of district judge, you must
consider the office of district judge as vacated. The grant is
contingent. If the contingency happen, the office vests from the
date of the commission; if the contingency does not happen, the
grant is void. If this reasoning be sound, it was not irregular, in
the late administration, after granting a commission to a district
judge, for the place of a circuit judge, to make a grant of the
office of the district judge, upon the contingency of his accepting
the office of circuit judge.
The legislative power of the government is not absolute, but
limited. If it be doubtful whether the legislature can do what the
constitution does not explicitly authorize, yet there can be no
question, that they cannot do what the constitution expressly
prohibits. To maintain, therefore, the constitution, the judges are
a check upon the legislature. The doctrine, I know, is denied, and
it is, therefore, incumbent upon me to show that it is sound. It
was once thought by gentlemen, who now deny the principle, that the
safety of the citizen and of the States rested upon the power of the
judges to declare an unconstitutional law void. How vain is a paper
restriction if it confers neither power nor right. Of what
importance is it to say, Congress are prohibited from doing certain
acts, if no legitimate authority exists in the country to decide
whether an act done is a prohibited act? Do gentlemen perceive the
consequences which would follow from establishing the principle,
that Congress have the exclusive right to decide upon their own
powers? This principle admitted, does any constitution remain?
Does not the power of the legislature become absolute and
omnipotent? Can you talk to them of transgressing their powers,
when no one has a right to judge of those powers but themselves?
They do what is not authorized, they do what is inhibited, nay, at
every step, they trample the constitution under foot; yet their acts
are lawful and binding, and it is treason to resist them. How ill,
sir, do the doctrines and professions of these gentlemen agree.
They tell us they are friendly to the existence of the States; that
they are the friends of federative, but the enemies of a
consolidated general government, and yet, sir, to accomplish a
paltry object, they are willing to settle a principle which, beyond
all doubt, would eventually plant a consolidated government, with
unlimited power, upon the ruins of the State governments.
Nothing can be more absurd than to contend that there is a practical
restraint upon a political body, who are answerable to none but
themselves for the violation of the restraint, and who can derive,
from the very act of violation, undeniable justification of their
conduct.
If, Mr. Chairman, you mean to have a constitution, you must discover
a power to which the acknowledged right is attached of pronouncing
the invalidity of the acts of the legislature, which contravened the
instrument.
Does the power reside in the States? Has the legislature of a State
a right to declare an act of Congress void? This would be erring
upon the opposite extreme. It would be placing the general
government at the feet of the State governments. It would be
allowing one member of the Union to control all the rest. It would
inevitably lead to civil dissension and a dissolution of the general
government. Will it be pretended that the State courts have the
exclusive right of deciding upon the validity of our laws?
I admit they have the right to declare an act of Congress void. But
this right they enjoy in practice, and it ever essentially must
exist, subject to the revision and control of the courts of the
United States. If the State courts definitely possessed the right
of declaring the invalidity of the laws of this government, it would
bring us in subjection to the States. The judges of those courts,
being bound by the laws of the State, if a State declared an act of
Congress unconstitutional, the law of the State would oblige its
courts to determine the law invalid. This principle would also
destroy the uniformity of obligation upon all the States, which
should attend every law of this government. If a law were declared
void in one State, it would exempt the citizens of that State from
its operation, whilst obedience was yielded to it in the other
States. I go further, and say, if the States or State courts had a
final power of annulling the acts of this government, its miserable
and precarious existence would not be worth the trouble of a moment
to preserve. It would endure but a short time, as a subject of
derision, and, wasting into an empty shadow, would quickly vanish
from our sight.
Let me now ask, if the power to decide upon the validity of our laws
resides with the people. Gentlemen cannot deny this right to the
people. I admit they possess it. But if, at the same time, it does
not belong to the courts of the United States, where does it lead
the people? It leads them to the gallows. Let us suppose that
Congress, forgetful of the limits of their authority, pass an
unconstitutional law. They lay a direct tax upon one State and
impose none upon the others. The people of the State taxed contest
the validity of the law. They forcibly resist its execution. They
are brought by the executive authority before the courts upon
charges of treason. The law is unconstitutional, the people have
done right, but the court are bound by the law, and obliged to
pronounce upon them the sentence which it inflicts. Deny to the
courts of the United States the power of judging upon the
constitutionality of our laws, and it is vain to talk of its
existing elsewhere. The infractors of the laws are brought before
these courts, and if the courts are implicitly bound, the invalidity
of the laws can be no defense. There is, however, Mr. Chairman,
still a stronger ground of argument upon this subject. I shall
select one or two cases to illustrate it. Congress are prohibited
from passing a bill of attainder; it is also declared in the
constitution, that "no attainder of treason shall work corruption of
blood or forfeiture, except during the life of the party attainted."
Let us suppose that Congress pass a bill of attainder, or they
enact, that any one attainted of treason shall forfeit, to the use
of the United States, all the estate which he held in any lands or
tenements.
The party attainted is seized and brought before a federal court,
and an award of execution passed against him. He opens the
constitution and points to this line, "no bill of attainder or _ex_
_post_ _facto_ law shall be passed." The attorney for the United
States reads the bill of attainder.
The courts are bound to decide, but they have only the alternative
of pronouncing the law or the constitution invalid. It is left to
them only to say that the law vacates the constitution, or the
constitution voids the law. So, in the other case stated, the heir
after the death of his ancestor, brings his ejectment in one of the
courts of the United States to recover his inheritance. The law by
which it is confiscated is shown. The constitution gave no power to
pass such a law. On the contrary, it expressly denied it to the
government. The title of the heir is rested on the constitution, the
title of the government on the law. The effect of one destroys the
effect of the other; the court must determine which is effectual.
There are many other cases, Mr. Chairman, of a similar nature to
which I might allude. There is the case of the privilege of
_habeas_ _corpus_, which cannot be suspended but in times of
rebellion or invasion. Suppose a law prohibiting the issue of the
writ at a moment of profound peace! If, in such case, the writ were
demanded of a court, could they say, it is true the legislature were
restrained from passing the law suspending the privilege of this
writ, at such a time as that which now exists, but their mighty
power has broken the bonds of the constitution, and fettered the
authority of the court? I am not, sir, disposed to vaunt, but
standing on this ground, I throw the gauntlet to any champion upon
the other side. I call upon them to maintain, that, in a collision
between a law and the constitution, the judges are bound to support
the law, and annul the constitution. Can the gentlemen relieve
themselves from this dilemma? Will they say, though a judge has no
power to pronounce a law void, he has a power to declare the
constitution invalid?
The doctrine for which I am contending, is not only clearly
inferable from the plain language of the constitution, but by law
has been expressly declared and established in practice since the
existence of the government.
The second section of the third article of the constitution
expressly extends the judicial power to all cases arising under the
constitution, laws, etc. The provision in the second clause of the
sixth article leaves nothing to doubt. "This constitution and the
laws of the United States, which shall be made in pursuance thereof
etc., shall be the supreme law of the land." The constitution is
absolutely the supreme law. Not so the acts of the legislature!
Such only are the law of the land as are made in pursuance of the
constitution.
I beg the indulgence of the committee one moment, while I read the
following provision from the twenty-fifth section of the judicial
act of the year 1789: "A final judgment or decree in any suit in the
highest court of law or equity of a state, in which a decision in
the suit could be had, where is drawn in question the validity of a
treaty or statute of, or an authority exercised under, the United
States, and the decision is against their validity, etc., may be
re-examined and reversed or affirmed in the Supreme Court of the
United States, upon a writ of error." Thus, as early as the year
1789, among the first acts of the government, the legislature
explicitly recognized the right of a State court to declare a
treaty, a statute, and an authority exercised under the United
States, void, subject to the revision of the Supreme Court of the
United States; and it has expressly given the final power to the
Supreme Court to affirm a judgment which is against the validity,
either of a treaty, statute, or an authority of the government.
I humbly trust, Mr. Chairman, that I have given abundant proofs from
the nature of our government, from the language of the constitution,
and from legislative acknowledgment, that the judges of our courts
have the power to judge and determine upon the constitutionality of
our laws.
Let me now suppose that, in our frame of government, the judges are
a check upon the legislature; that the constitution is deposited in
their keeping. Will you say afterwards that their existence depends
upon the legislature? That the body whom they are to check has the
power to destroy them? Will you say that the constitution may be
taken out of their hands by a power the most to be distrusted,
because the only power which could violate it with impunity? Can
anything be more absurd than to admit that the judges are a check
upon the legislature, and yet to contend that they exist at the will
of the legislature? A check must necessarily imply a power
commensurate to its end. The political body, designed to check
another, must be independent of it, otherwise there can be no check.
What check can there be when the power designed to be checked can
annihilate the body which is to restrain?
I go further, Mr. Chairman, and take a stronger ground. I say, in
the nature of things, the dependence of the judges upon the
legislature, and their right to declare the acts of the legislature
void, are repugnant, and cannot exist together. The doctrine, sir,
supposes two rights--first, the right of the legislature to
destroy the office of the judge, and the right of the judge to
vacate the act of the legislature. You have a right to abolish by a
law the offices of the judges of the circuit courts; they have a
right to declare the law void. It unavoidably follows, in the
exercise of these rights, either that you destroy their rights, or
that they destroy yours. This doctrine is not a harmless absurdity,
it is a most dangerous heresy. It is a doctrine which cannot be
practiced without producing not discord only, but bloodshed. If you
pass the bill upon your table, the judges have a constitutional
right to declare it void. I hope they will have courage to exercise
that right; and if, sir, I am called upon to take my side, standing
acquitted in ray conscience, and before my God, of all motives but
the support of the constitution of my country, I shall not tremble
at the consequences.
The constitution may have its enemies, but I know that it has also
its friends. I beg gentlemen to pause, before they take this rash
step. There are many, very many, who believe, if you strike this
blow, you inflict a mortal wound on the constitution. There are many
now willing to spill their blood to defend that constitution. Are
gentlemen disposed to risk the consequences? Sir, I mean no threats,
I have no expectation of appalling the stout hearts of my
adversaries; but if gentlemen are regardless of themselves, let them
consider their wives and children, their neighbors and their
friends. Will they risk civil dissension, will they hazard the
welfare, will they jeopardize the peace of the country, to save a
paltry sum of money, less than thirty thousand dollars?
Mr. Chairman, I am confident that the friends of this measure are
not apprised of the nature of its operation, nor sensible of the
mischievous consequences which are likely to attend it. Sir, the
morals of your people, the peace of the country, the stability of
the government, rest upon the maintenance of the independence of the
judiciary. It is not of half the importance in England, that the
judges should be independent of the crown, as it is with us that
they should be independent of the legislature. Am I asked, would
you render the judges superior to the legislature? I answer, no,
but co-ordinate. Would you render them independent of the
legislature? I answer, yes, independent of every power on earth,
while they behave themselves well. The essential interests, the
permanent welfare of society, require this independence; not, sir,
on account of the judge; that is a small consideration, but on
account of those between whom he is to decide. You calculate on the
weaknesses of human nature, and you suffer the judge to be dependent
on no one, lest he should be partial to those on whom he depends.
Justice does not exist where partiality prevails. A dependent judge
cannot be impartial. Independence is, therefore, essential to the
purity of your judicial tribunals.
Let it be remembered, that no power is so sensibly felt by society,
as that of the judiciary. The life and property of every man is
liable to be in the hands of the judges. Is it not our great
interest to place our judges upon such high ground that no fear can
intimidate, no hope seduce them? The present measure humbles them
in the dust, it prostrates them at the feet of faction, it renders
them the tools of every dominant party. It is this effect which I
deprecate, it is this consequence which I deeply deplore. What does
reason, what does argument avail, when party spirit presides?
Subject your bench to the influence of this spirit, and justice bids
a final adieu to your tribunals. We are asked, sir, if the judges
are to be independent of the people? The question presents a false
and delusive view. We are all the people. We are, and as long as
we enjoy our freedom, we shall be divided into parties. The true
question is, shall the judiciary be permanent, or fluctuate with the
tide of public opinion? I beg, I implore gentlemen to consider the
magnitude and value of the principle which they are about to
annihilate. If your judges are independent of political changes,
they may have their preferences, but they will not enter into the
spirit of party. But let their existence depend upon the support of
the power of a certain set of men, and they cannot be impartial.
Justice will be trodden under foot. Your courts will lose all
public confidence and respect.
The judges will be supported by their partisans, who, in their turn,
will expect impunity for the wrongs and violence they commit. The
spirit of party will be inflamed to madness: and the moment is not
far off, when this fair country is to be desolated by a civil war.
Do not say that you render the judges dependent only on the people
You make them dependent on your President. This is his measure.
The same tide of public opinion which changes a President will
change the majorities in the branches of the legislature The
legislature will be the instrument of his ambition, and he will have
the courts as the instruments of his vengeance. He uses the
legislature to remove the judges, that he may appoint creatures of
his own. In effect, the powers of the government will be
concentrated in the hands of one man, who will dare to act with more
boldness, because he will be sheltered from responsibility. The
independence of the judiciary was the felicity of our constitution.
It was this principle which was to curb the fury of party on sudden
changes. The first movements of power gained by a struggle are the
most vindictive and intemperate. Raised above the storm it was the
judiciary which was to control the fiery zeal, and to quell the
fierce passions of a victorious faction.
We are standing on the brink of that revolutionary torrent, which
deluged in blood one of the fairest countries of Europe.
France had her national assembly, more numerous than, and equally
popular with, our own. She had her tribunals of justice, and her
juries. But the legislature and her courts were but the instruments
of her destruction. Acts of proscription and sentences of banishment
and death were passed in the cabinet of a tyrant. Prostrate your
judges at the feet of party, and you break down the mounds which
defend you from this torrent.
I am done. I should have thanked my God for greater power to resist
a measure so destructive to the peace and happiness of the
country. My feeble efforts can avail nothing. But it was my duty to
make them. The meditated blow is mortal, and from the moment it is
struck, we may bid a final adieu to the constitution.
COMMERCE AND NAVAL POWER (United States Senate, February 12th, 1810)
God has decided that the people of this country should be commercial
people. You read that decree in the seacoast of seventeen hundred
miles which he has given you; in the numerous navigable waters which
penetrate the interior of the country; in the various ports and
harbors scattered alone your shores; in your fisheries; in the
redundant productions of your soil; and, more than all, in the
enterprising and adventurous spirit of your people. It is no more a
question whether the people of this country shall be allowed to
plough the ocean, than it is whether they shall be permitted to
plough the land. It is not in the power of this government, nor
would it be if it were as strong as the most despotic upon the
earth, to subdue the commercial spirit, or to destroy the commercial
habits of the country. Young as we are, our tonnage and commerce
surpass those of every nation upon the globe but one, and if
not wasted by the deprivations to which they were exposed by their
defenseless situation, and the more ruinous restrictions to which
this government subjected them, it would require not many more years
to have made them the greatest in the world. Is this immense wealth
always to be exposed as a prey to the rapacity of freebooters? Why
will you protect your citizens and their property upon land, and
leave them defenseless upon the ocean? As your mercantile property
increases, the prize becomes more tempting to the cupidity of
foreign nations. In the course of things, the ruins and aggressions
which you have experienced will multiply, nor will they be
restrained while we have no appearance of a naval force.
I have always been in favor of a naval establishment--not from the
unworthy motives attributed by the gentleman from Georgia to a
former administration, in order to increase patronage, but from a
profound conviction that the safety of the Union and the prosperity
of the nation depended greatly upon its commerce, which never could
be securely enjoyed without the protection of naval power. I offer,
sir, abundant proof for the satisfaction of the liberal mind of that
gentleman, that patronage was not formerly a motive in voting an
increase in the navy, when I give now the same vote, when surely I
and my friends have nothing to hope, and for myself, I thank God,
nothing to wish from the patronage it may confer.
You must and will have a navy; but it is not to be created in a day,
nor is it to be expected that, in its infancy, it will be able to
cope, foot to foot with the full-grown vigor of the navy of
England. But we are even now capable of maintaining a naval force
formidable enough to threaten the British commerce, and to render
this nation an object of more respect and consideration.
In another point of view, the protection of commerce has become more
indispensable. The discovery is completely made, that it is from
commerce that the revenue is to be drawn which is to support this
government, A direct tax, a stamp act, a carriage tax, and an
excise, have been tried; and I believe, sir, after the lesson which
experience has given on the subject, no set of men in power will
ever repeat them again, for all they are likely to produce. The
burden must be pretty light upon the people of this country, or the
rider is in great danger. You may be allowed to sell your back lands
for some time longer, but the permanent fund for the support of this
government is the imports.
If the people were willing to part with commerce, can the government
dispense with it? But when it belongs equally to the interest of the
people and of the government to encourage and protect it, will you
not spare a few of those dollars which it brings into your treasury,
to defend and protect it?
In relation to the increase of a permanent military force, a free
people cannot cherish too great a jealousy. An army may wrest the
power from the hands of the people, and deprive them of their
liberty. It becomes us, therefore, to be extremely cautious how we
augment it. But a navy of any magnitude can never threaten us with
the same danger. Upon land, at this time, we have nothing--and
probably, at any future time, we shall have but little--to fear
from any foreign power. It is upon the ocean we meet them; it is
there our collisions arise; it is there we are most feeble, most
vulnerable, and most exposed; it is there by consequence, that our
safety and prosperity must require an augmented force.
THOMAS F. BAYARD (1828-1898)
In 1876, when the country was in imminent danger of the renewal of
civil war as a result of the contested presidential election, the
conservative element of the Democratic party, advised by Mr. Tilden
himself, determined to avoid anything which might result in extreme
measures. The masses of the people were excited as they had not
been since the close of the Civil War, and the great majority of the
Democrats of the country were undoubtedly opposed to making
concessions. Thomas F. Bayard, who took the lead in the Senate as
the representative of the moderate policy favored by Mr. Tilden, met
the reproaches sure to be visited in such cases on the peacemaker.
Nevertheless, he advocated the Electoral Commission as a method of
settling the contest, and his speech in supporting it, without doubt
one of the best as it was certainly the most important of his life,
paved the way for the final adoption of the bill. It is no more
than justice to say that the speech is worthy of the dignity of that
great occasion.
Mr. Bayard inherited the equable temperament shown by his father and
his grandfather. He was a warm-hearted man with a long memory for
services done him, but he had a faculty of containing himself which
few men exercise to the degree that he exercised it habitually, both
in his public and private life. The habit was so strong, in fact,
that he indulged only on rare occasions that emotion which is
necessary for the highest success as an orator. The calmness of his
thought shows itself in logic which, while it may invite confidence,
does not compel admiration. When he is moved, however, the freedom
of his utterances from exaggeration and from that tendency to rant
which mars many orations makes such periods as those with which he
closes his speech on the Electoral Bill models of expression for all
who wish to realize the highest possibilities of cumulative force.
The son of one United States Senator, James A. Bayard, of Delaware,
and the grandson of another, Mr. Bayard represented well the family
tradition of integrity. Born in 1828, he succeeded to his father's
place in the Senate when forty-one years of age, and remained in the
public service until within a short time of his death. He was
Secretary of State under the first Cleveland administration and
ambassador to England under the second. In the convention which
nominated Mr. Cleveland in 1884, Mr. Bayard, who had been strongly
supported for the Democratic presidential nomination in 1880, was so
close to the presidency at the beginning of the balloting that his
managers confidently expected his success. He became much attached
to President Cleveland, and in 1896 he took a course on the
financial issue then uppermost, which alienated many of his friends,
as far as friends could be alienated by the political action of a
man whose public and private life were so full of dignity,
simplicity, and the qualities which result from habitual good faith.
Mr. Bayard survived almost into the twentieth century as a last
representative of the colonial gentlemen who debated the Federal
Constitution. Supposed to be cold and unapproachable, he was really
warm in his friendships, with a memory which never allowed an act of
service done him to escape it. Few better men have had anything to
do with the politics of the second half of the century. He died in
1898.
W. V. B.
A PLEA FOR CONCILIATION IN 1876
("Counting the Electoral Votes," United States Senate, January 24th,
1877)
Mr. President, I might have been content as a friend of this measure
to allow it to go before the Senate and the country unaccompanied by
any remarks of mine had it not been the pleasure of the Senate to
assign me as one of the minority in this Chamber to a place upon the
select committee appointed for the purpose of reporting a bill
intended to meet the exigencies of the hour in relation to the
electoral votes. There is for every man in a matter of such gravity
his own measure of responsibility, and that measure I desire to
assume. Nothing less important than the decision, into whose hands
the entire executive power of this government shall be vested in the
next four years, is embraced in the provisions of this bill. The
election for President and Vice-President has been held, but as to
the results of that election the two great political parties of the
country stand opposed in serious controversy. Each party claims
success for its candidate and insists that he and he alone shall be
declared by the two houses of Congress entitled to exercise the
executive power of this government for the next four years. The
canvass was prolonged and unprecedented in its excitement and even
bitterness. The period of advocacy of either candidate has passed,
and the time for judgment has almost come. How shall we who purpose
to make laws for others do better than to exhibit our own reverence
for law and set the example here of subordination to the spirit of
law?
It cannot be disguised that an issue has been sought, if not
actually raised, in this country, between a settlement of this great
question by sheer force and arbitrary exercise of power or by the
peaceful, orderly, permanent methods of law and reason. Ours is, as
we are wont to boast, a government of laws, and not of will; and we
must not permit it to pass away from us by changing its nature.
"O, yet a nobler task awaits thy hand,
For what can war but endless war still breed?"
By this measure now before the Senate it is proposed to have a
peaceful conquest over partisan animosity and lawless action, to
procure a settlement grounded on reason and justice, and not upon
force. Therefore, it is meant to lift this great question of
determining who has been lawfully elected President and
Vice-President of these United States out of the possibility of
popular broils and tumult, and elevate it with all dignity to the
higher atmosphere of legal and judicial decision. In such a spirit I
desire to approach the consideration of the subject and shall seek
to deal with it at least worthily, with a sense of public duty
unobstructed, I trust, by prejudice or party animosity. The truth of
Lord Bacon's aphorism that "great empire and little minds go ill
together," should warn us now against the obtrusion of narrow or
technical views in adjusting such a question and at such a time in
our country's history.
Mr. President, from the very commencement of the attempt to form the
government under which we live, the apportionment of power in the
executive branch and the means of choosing the chief magistrate have
been the subject of the greatest difficulty. Those who founded this
government and preceded us in its control had felt the hand of
kingly power, and it was from the abuse of executive power that they
dreaded the worst results. Therefore it was that when the
Constitution came to be framed that was the point upon which they
met and upon which they parted, less able to agree than upon almost
all others combined. A glance at the history of the convention that
met at Philadelphia on the fourteenth of May, 1787, but did not
organize until the twenty-fifth day of the same month, will show
that three days after the convention assembled two plans of a
Constitution were presented, respectively, by Mr. Edmund Randolph,
of Virginia, and Mr. Charles Pinckney, of South Carolina. The first
proposed the election of the executive by the legislature, as the
two houses were then termed, for a term of seven years, with
ineligibility for re-election. The other proposed an election, but
left the power to elect or the term of office in blank. Both of
these features in the schemes proposed came up early for
consideration, and, as I have said before, as the grave and able
minds of that day approached this subject they were unable to agree,
and accordingly, from time to time, the question was postponed and
no advance whatever made in the settlement of the question. Indeed,
so vital and wide was the difference that each attempt made during
the course of the five months in which that convention was assembled
only seemed to result in renewed failure. So it stood until the
fourth day of September had arrived. The labors of the convention
by that time had resulted in the framing of a Constitution, wise and
good and fairly balanced, calculated to preserve power sufficient in
the government, and yet leaving that individual freedom and liberty
essential for the protection of the States and their citizens. Then
it was that this question, so long postponed, came up for
consideration and had to be decided. As it was decided then, it
appears in the Constitution as submitted to the States in 1787; but
an amendment of the second article was proposed in 1804, which,
meeting the approval of the States, became part of the Constitution.
I must be pardoned if I repeat something of what has preceded in
this debate, by way of citation from the Constitution of the United
States, in order that we may find there our warrant for the present
measure. There were difficulties of which these fathers of our
government were thoroughly conscious. The very difficulties that
surround the question to-day are suggested in the debates of 1800,
in which the history of double returns is foretold by Mr. Pinckney
in his objections to the measure then before the Senate. The very
title of that act, "A Bill Prescribing a Mode of Deciding Disputed
Elections of President and Vice-President of the United States,"
will show the difficulties which they then perceived and of which
they felt the future was to be so full. They made the attempt in
1800 to meet those difficulties. They did not succeed. Again and
again the question came before them. In 1824 a second attempt was
made at legislation. It met the approval of the Senate. It seemed
to meet the approval of the Committee on the Judiciary of the House,
by whom it was reported without amendment, but never was acted upon
in that body, and failed to become a law. This all shows to us that
there has been a postponement from generation to generation of a
subject of great difficulty that we of to-day are called upon to
meet under circumstances of peculiar and additional disadvantage;
for while in the convention of 1787 there was a difference arising
from interest, from all the infinite variances of prejudice and
opinion upon subjects of local, geographical, and pecuniary
interests, and making mutual concessions and patriotic considerations
necessary at all times, yet they were spared the most dangerous
of all feelings under which our country has suffered of late; for,
amid all the perturbing causes to interfere with and distract their
counsels, partisan animosity was at least unknown. There was in that
day no such thing as political party in the United States:--
"Then none were for a party,
But all were for the State."
Political parties were formed afterward and have grown in strength
since, and to-day the troubles that afflict our country chiefly may
be said to arise from the dangerous excess of party feeling in our
councils.
But I propose to refer to the condition of the law and the
Constitution as we now find it. The second article of the first
section of the Constitution provides for the vesting of the
executive power in the President and also for the election of a
Vice-President. First it provides that "each State" shall, through
its legislature, appoint the number of electors to which it is
entitled, which shall be the number of its Representatives in
Congress and its Senators combined. The power there is to the State
to appoint. The grant is as complete and perfect that the State
shall have that power as is another clause of the Constitution
giving to "each State" the power to be represented by the Senators
in this branch of Congress. There is given to the electors
prescribed duties, which I will read:--
The electors shall meet in their respective States and vote by
ballot for President and Vice-President, one of whom, at least,
shall not be an inhabitant of the same State with themselves: they
shall name in their ballots the person voted for as President, and
in distinct ballots the person voted for as Vice-President, and they
shall make distinct lists of all persons voted for as President, and
of all persons voted for as Vice-President, and of the number of
votes for each; which lists they shall sign and certify, and
transmit sealed to the seat of government of the United States,
directed to the President of the Senate. The President of the Senate
shall, in the presence of the Senate and House of Representatives,
open all the certificates, and the votes shall then be counted.
Then follows the duty and power of Congress in connection with this
subject to determine the time of choosing the electors and the day
on which they shall give their votes, which day shall be the same
throughout the United States. The next clause provides for the
qualifications of the candidates for the presidency and
vice-presidency. The next clause gives power to the Congress of the
United States to provide for filling the office of President and
Vice-President in the event of the death, resignation, or inability
of the incumbents to vest the powers and duties of the said office.
The other clause empowers Congress thus to designate a temporary
President. The other clauses simply relate to the compensation of
the President and the oath he shall take to perform the duties of
the office. Connected with that delegation of power is to be
considered the eighth section of the first article which gives to
the Congress of the United States power "to make all laws which
shall be necessary and proper for carrying into execution the
foregoing powers, and all other powers vested by this Constitution
in the government of the United States, or in any department or
officer thereof."
It will be observed, so far, that the Constitution has provided the
power but has not provided the regulations for carrying that power
into effect. The Supreme Court of the United States sixty-odd years
ago defined so well the character of that power and the method of
its use that I will quote it from the first volume of _Wheaton's
Reports, page 326:_
Leaving it to the legislature from time to time to adopt its own
means to effectuate, legitimate, and mold and model the exercise of
its powers as its own wisdom and public interest should require.
In less than four years, in March 1792, after the first Congress had
assembled there was legislation upon this subject, carrying into
execution the power vested by this second article of the
Constitution in a manner which will leave no doubt of what the men
of that day believed was competent and proper. Here let me advert
to that authority which must ever attach to the contemporaneous
exposition of historical events. The men who sat in the Congress of
1792 had many of them been members of the convention that framed the
Federal Constitution. All were its contemporaries and closely were
they considering with master-minds the consequences of that work.
Not only may we gather from the manner in which they treated this
subject when they legislated upon it in 1792 what were their views
of the powers of Congress on the subject of where the power was
lodged and what was the proper measure of its exercise, but we can
gather equally well from the inchoate and imperfect legislation of
1800 what those men also thought of their power over this subject,
because, although differing as to details, there were certain
conceded facts as to jurisdiction quite as emphatically expressed as
if their propositions had been enacted into law. Likewise in 1824
the same instruction is afforded. If we find the Senate of the
United States without division pass bills which, although not passed
by the co-ordinate branch of Congress, are received by them and
reported back from the proper committees after examination and
without amendment to the committee of the whole House, we may learn
with equal authority what was conceded by those houses as to the
question of power over the subject. In a compilation made at the
present session by order of the House Committee, co-ordinate with
the Senate Committee, will be found at page 129 a debate containing
expressions by the leading men of both parties in 1857 of the
lawfulness of the exercise of the legislative power of Congress over
this subject. I venture to read here from the remarks of
Mr. Hunter, of Virginia, one of the most respected and conservative
minds of his day in the Congress of the United States:--
The Constitution evidently contemplated a provision to be made by
law to regulate the details and the mode of counting the votes for
President and Vice-President of the United States. The President of
the Senate shall, in the presence of the Senate and House of
Representatives, open all the certificates, and the votes shall then
be counted. By whom, and how to be counted, the Constitution does
not say. But Congress has power to make all laws which shall be
necessary and proper for carrying into execution the foregoing
powers, and all other powers vested by this Constitution in the
government of the United States, or in any department or officer
thereof. Congress, therefore, has the power to regulate by law the
details of the mode in which the votes are to be counted. As yet,
no such law has been found necessary. The cases, happily, have been
rare in which difficulties have occurred in the count of the
electoral votes. All difficulties of this sort have been managed
heretofore by the consent of the two houses--a consent either
implied at the time or declared by joint resolutions adopted by the
houses on the recommendation of the joint committee which is usually
raised to prescribe the mode in which the count is to be made. In
the absence of law, the will of the two houses thus declared has
prescribed the rule under which the President of the Senate and the
tellers have acted. It was by this authority, as I understand it,
that the President of the Senate acted yesterday. The joint
resolution of the two bouses prescribed the mode in which the
tellers were to make the count and also required him to declare the
result, which he did. It was under the authority, therefore, and by
the direction of the two houses that he acted. The resolutions by
which the authority was given were according to unbroken usage and
established precedent.
Mr. President, the debate from which I have read took place in 1857
and was long and able, the question there arising upon the proposed
rejection of the vote of the State of Wisconsin, because of the
delay of a single day in the meeting of the electors. A violent
snowstorm having prevented the election on the third of December, it
was held on the fourth, which was clearly in violation of the law of
Congress passed in pursuance of the Constitution requiring that the
votes for the electors should be cast on the same day throughout the
Union. That debate will disclose the fact that the danger then
became more and more realized of leaving this question unsettled as
to who should determine whether the electoral votes of a State
should be received or rejected when the two houses of Congress
should differ upon that subject. There was no arbiter between
them. This new-fangled idea of the present hour, that the presiding
officer of the Senate should decide that question between the two
disagreeing houses, had not yet been discovered in the fertility of
political invention, or born perhaps of party necessity. The
question has challenged all along through our country's history
the ablest minds of the country; but at last we have reached a point
when under increased difficulties we are bound to settle it. It arose
in 1817 in the case of the State of Indiana, the question being
whether Indiana was a State in the Union at the time of the casting
of her vote. The two houses disagreed upon that subject; but by a
joint resolution, which clearly assumed the power of controlling the
subject, as the vote of Indiana did not if cast either way control
the election, the difficulty was tided over by an arrangement for
that time and that occasion only. In 1820 the case of the State of
Missouri arose and contained the same question. There again came the
difficulty when the genius and patriotism of Henry Clay were brought
into requisition and a joint resolution introduced by him and
adopted by both houses was productive of a satisfactory solution for
the time being. The remedy was merely palliative; the permanent
character of the difficulty was confessed and the fact that it was
only a postponement to men of a future generation of a question
still unsettled.
It is not necessary, and would be fatiguing to the Senate and to
myself, to give anything like a sketch of the debate which followed,
of the able and eminent men on both sides who considered the
question, arriving, however, at one admitted conclusion, that the
remedy was needed and that it did lie in the law-making power of the
government to furnish it.
Thus, Mr. President, the unbroken line of precedent, the history of
the usage of this government from 1789 at the first election of
President and Vice-President until 1873, when the last count of
electoral votes was made for the same offices, exhibits this fact,
that the control of the count of the electoral votes, the
ascertainment and declaration of the persons who were elected
President and Vice-President, has been under the co-ordinate power
of the two houses of Congress, and under no other power at any time
or in any instance. The claim is now gravely made for the first
time, in 1877, that in the event of disagreement of the two houses
the power to count the electoral votes and decide upon their
validity under the Constitution and law is vested in a single
individual, an appointee of one of the houses of Congress, the
presiding officer of the Senate. In the event of a disagreement
between the two houses, we are now told, he is to assume the power,
in his sole discretion, to count the vote, to ascertain and declare
what persons have been elected; and this, too, in the face of an act
of Congress, passed in 1792, unrepealed, always recognized, followed
in every election from the time it was passed until the present day.
Section 5 of the act of 1792 declares:--
That Congress shall be in session on the second Wednesday in
February 1793, and on the second Wednesday in February succeeding
every meeting of the electors; and the said certificates, or so many
of them as shall have been received, shall then be opened, the votes
counted, and the persons who shall fill the offices of President and
Vice-President ascertained and declared agreeably to the
Constitution.
Let it be noted that the words "President of the Senate" nowhere
occur in the section.
But we are now told that though "Congress shall be in session," that
though these two great bodies duly organized, each with its
presiding officer, accompanied by all its other officers, shall meet
to perform the duty of ascertaining and declaring the true result of
the action of the electoral colleges and what persons are entitled
to these high executive offices, in case they shall not agree in
their decisions there shall be interposed the power of the presiding
officer of one of the houses to control the judgment of either and
become the arbiter between them. Why, Mr. President, how such a
claim can be supposed to rest upon authority is more than I can
imagine. It is against all history. It is against the meaning of
laws. It is not consistent with the language of the Constitution.
It is in the clearest violation of the whole scheme of this popular
government of ours, that one man should assume a power in regard to
which the convention hung for months undecided, and carefully and
grudgingly bestowing that power even when they finally disposed of
it. Why, sir, a short review of history will clearly show how it
was that the presiding officer of the Senate became even the
custodian of the certificates of the electors.
On the fourth of September, 1787, when approaching the close of
their labors, the convention discovered that they must remove this
obstacle, and they must come to an agreement in regard to the
deposit of this grave power. When they were scrupulously
considering that no undue grant of power should be made to either
branch of Congress, and when no one dreamed of putting it in the
power of a single hand, the proposition was made by Hon. Mr. Brearly,
from a committee of eleven, of alterations in the former schemes of
the convention, which embraced this subject. It provided:--
5. Each State shall appoint, in such manner as its legislature may
direct a number of electors equal to the whole number of Senators
and Members of the House of Representatives to which the State may
be entitled in the legislature.
6. The electors shall meet in their respective States and vote by
ballot for two persons, one of whom at least shall not be an
inhabitant of the same State with themselves; and they shall make
a list of all the persons voted for, and of the number of votes
for each, which list they shall sign and certify, and transmit
sealed to the seat of the general government, directed to the
President of the Senate.
7. The President of the Senate shall, in that house, open all the
certificates; and the votes shall be then and there counted. The
person having the greatest number of votes shall be the
President, if such number shall be a majority of the whole number
of the electors appointed; and if there be more than one who have
such majority and have an equal number of votes, then the Senate
shall choose by ballot one of them for President; but if no
person have a majority, then from the five highest on the list
the Senate shall choose by ballot the President. And in every
case after the choice of the President the person having the
greatest number of votes shall be Vice-President. But if there
should remain two or more who shall equal votes, the Senate shall
choose from them the Vice-President. (See 'Madison Papers.' page
506. etc.)
Here we discover the reason why the President of the Senate was made
the custodian of these certificates. It was because in that plan of
the Constitution the Senate was to count the votes alone; the House
was not to be present; and in case there was a tie or failure to
find a majority the Senate was to elect the President and
Vice-President. The presiding officer of the body that was to count
the votes alone, of the body that alone was to elect the President
in default of a majority--the presiding officer of that body was
naturally the proper person to hold the certificates until the
Senate should do its duty. It might as well be said that because
certificates and papers of various kinds are directed to the
President of this Senate to be laid before the Senate that he should
have the control to enact those propositions into law, as to say
that because the certificates of these votes were handed to him he
should have the right to count them and ascertain and declare what
persons had been chosen President and Vice-President of the United
States.
But the scheme reported by Mr. Brearly met with no favor. In the
first place, it was moved and seconded to insert the words "in the
presence of the Senate and House of Representatives" after the word
"counted." That was passed in the affirmative. Next it was moved to
strike out the words "the Senate shall immediately choose by ballot"
and insert the words "and House of Representatives shall immediately
choose by ballot one of them for President, and the members of each
State shall have one vote," and this was adopted by ten States in
the affirmative to one State in the negative.
Then came another motion to agree to the following paragraph, giving
to the Senate the right to choose the Vice-President in case of the
failure to find a majority, which was agreed to by the convention;
so that the amendment as agreed to read as follows:--
The President of the Senate, in the presence of the Senate and House
of Representatives, shall open all the certificates, and the votes
shall then be counted. The person having the greatest number of
votes shall be President, if such number be a majority of the whole
number of electors appointed: and if there be more than one who have
such majority, and have an equal number of votes, then the House of
Representatives shall immediately choose by ballot one of them for
President, the representation from each State having one vote; but
if no person have a majority, then from the five highest on the list
the House of Representatives shall in like manner choose by ballot
the President.
And then follows that if there should remain two candidates voted
for as Vice-President having an equal vote the Senate shall choose
from them the Vice-President. Mr. President, is it not clear that
the Constitution directed that the certificates should be deposited
with the presiding officer of that body which was alone to count the
votes and elect both the President and Vice-President in case there
was a failure to find a majority of the whole number of electors
appointed? There is a maxim of the law, that where the reason ceases
the law itself ceases. It is not only a maxim of common law, but
equally of common sense. The history of the manner in which and the
reason for which the certificates were forwarded to the President of
the Senate completely explains why he was chosen as the depositary
and just what connection he had with and power over those
certificates. After the power had been vested in the House of
Representatives to ballot for the President, voting by States, after
the presence of the House of Representatives was made equally
necessary before the count could begin or proceed at all, the
President of the Senate was still left as the officer designated to
receive the votes. Why? Because the Senate is a continuing body,
because the Senate always has a quorum. Divided into three classes,
there never is a day or a time when a quorum of the Senate of the
United States is not elected and cannot be summoned to perform its
functions under the Constitution. Therefore you had the officer of a
continuing body, and as the body over which he presided and by whom
he is chosen was one of the two co-ordinate bodies to perform the
great function of counting the votes and of ascertaining and
declaring the result of the electoral vote, he was left in charge of
the certificates.
You also find in the sixth section of the act of 1792 that Congress
exercised its regulating power and declared "that in case there
shall be no President of the Senate at the seat of government on the
arrival of the persons intrusted with the lists of votes of the
electors, then such persons shall deliver the lists of votes in
their custody into the office of the Secretary of State to be safely
kept and delivered over as soon as may be to the President of the
Senate."
What does this signify? That it was a simple question of custody, of
safe and convenient custody, and there is just as much reason to say
that the Secretary of State being the recipient of those votes had a
right to count them as to say that the other officer designated as
the recipient of the votes, the President of the Senate, had a right
to count them.
Now, here is another fact a denial of which cannot be safely
challenged. Take the history of these debates upon the formation of
the Federal Constitution from beginning to end, search them, and no
line or word can be discovered that even suggests any power whatever
in any one man over the subject, much less in the President of the
Senate, in the control of the election of the President or the
Vice-President. Why, sir, there is the invariable rule of
construction in regard to which there can be no dispute, that the
express grant of one thing excludes any other. Here you have the
direction to the President of the Senate that be shall receive these
certificates, or if absent that another custodian shall receive
them, hold them during his absence and pass them over to him as soon
as may be, and that then he shall in the presence of the two houses
of Congress "open all the certificates." There is his full measure
of duty; it is clearly expressed; and then after that follows the
totally distinct duty, not confided to him, that "the votes shall
then be counted."
I doubt very much whether any instrument not written by an inspired
hand was more clear, terse, frugal of all words except those
necessary to express its precise meaning, than the Constitution of
the United States. It would require the greatest ingenuity to
discover where fewer words could be used to accomplish a plain end.
How shall it be that in this closely considered charter, where every
word, every punctuation was carefully weighed and canvassed, they
should employ seven words out of place when two words in place would
have fulfilled their end? If it had been intended to give this
officer the power to count, how easy to read, "The President of the
Senate shall, in the presence of the Senate and House of
Representatives, open and count the votes." Why resort to this
other, strained, awkward, ungrammatical, unreasonable transposition
of additional words to grant one power distinctly and leave the
other to be grafted upon it by an unjust implication? No,
Mr. President, if it were a deed of bargain and sale, or any
question of private grant, if it did not touch the rights of a great
people, there would be but one construction given to this language,
that the expression of one grant excluded the other. It was a
single command to the President of the Senate that, as the
custodian, he should honestly open those certificates and lay them
before the two houses of Congress who were to act, and then his duty
was done, and that was the belief of the men who sat in that
convention, many of whom joined in framing the law of 1792 which
directed Congress to be in session on a certain day and that the
votes should be counted and the persons who should fill the office
of President and Vice-president ascertained and declared agreeably
to the Constitution.
The certificates are to be opened by their custodian, the President
of the Senate, in the presence of the Senate and the House of
Representatives. Let it be noted this is not in the presence of the
Senators and Representatives, but it is in the presence of two
organized bodies who cannot be present except as a Senate and as a
House of Representatives, each with its own organization, its own
presiding officer and all adjuncts, each organized for the
performance of a great duty.
When the first drafts of the Constitution were made, instead of
saying "in the presence of the Senate and the House of Representatives,"
they called it "the Legislature." What is a Legislature? A
law-making body organized, not a mob, but an organized body to make
laws; and so the law-making power of this Union, consisting of these
two houses, is brought together. But it seems to me a most
unreasonable proposition to withhold from the law-making power of
this government the authority to regulate this subject and yet be
willing to intrust it to a single hand. There is not a theory of
this government that will support such a construction. It is
contrary to the whole genius of the government; it is contrary to
everything in the history of the formation of the government; it is
contrary to the usage of the government since its foundation.
The President of the Senate is commanded by the Constitution to open
the votes in the presence of the two houses. He does not summon
them to witness his act, but they summon him by appointing a day and
hour when he is to produce and open in their presence all the
certificates he may have received, and only then and in their
presence can he undertake to open them at all. If he was merely to
summon them as witnesses of his act it would have been so stated.
But when did the President of the Senate ever undertake to call the
two houses together to witness the opening and counting of the
votes? No, sir; he is called at their will and pleasure to bring
with him the certificates which he has received, and open them
before them and under their inspection, and not his own. When the
certificates have been opened, when the votes have been counted, can
the President of the Senate declare the result? No, sir, he has
never declared a result except as the mouthpiece and the organ of
the two houses authorizing and directing him what to declare, and
what he did declare was what they had ascertained and in which
ascertainment he had never interfered by word or act.
Suppose there shall be an interruption in the count, as has occurred
in our history, can the President of the Senate do it? Did he ever
do it? Is such an instance to be found? Every interruption in the
count comes from some Member of the House or of the Senate, and upon
that the pleasure of the two houses is considered, the question put
to them to withdraw if they desire, and the count is arrested until
they shall order it to recommence. The proceeding in the count, the
commencement of the count is not in any degree under his control.
It is and ever was in the two houses, and in them alone. They are
not powerless spectators; they do not sit "state statues only," but
they are met as a legislature in organized bodies to insure a
correct result of the popular election, to see to it that "the votes
shall then be counted" agreeably to the Constitution.
In 1792 when some of the men who sat in the convention that framed
the Constitution enacted into law the powers given in relation to
the count of the electoral votes, they said, as I have read, that
the certificates then received shall be opened and the votes
counted, "and the persons to fill the offices of President and
Vice-President ascertained agreeably to the Constitution," and that
direction is contained in the same section of the law that commands
Congress to be in session on that day. It is the law-making power of
the nation, the legislature, that is to perform this solemn and
important duty, and not a single person who is selected by one
branch of Congress and who is removable at their will, according to
a late decision of the Senate.
Yes, Mr. President, the power contended for by some Senators, that
the President of the Senate can, in the contingency of a
disagreement between the two houses, from the necessity of the case,
open and count the vote, leads to this: that upon every disputed
vote and upon every decision a new President of the Senate could be
elected; that one man could be selected in the present case to count
the vote of Florida; another, of South Carolina; another, of Oregon;
another, of Louisiana; and the Senate could fill those four offices
with four different men, each chosen for that purpose, and when that
purpose was over to be displaced by the same breath that set them up
for the time being.
Now, sir, if, as has been claimed, the power of counting the votes
is deposited equally in both houses, does not this admission exclude
the idea of any power to count the votes being deposited in the
presiding officer of one of those houses, who is, as I say, eligible
and removable by a bare majority of the Senate, and at will? If the
presiding officer of the Senate can thus count the vote, the Senate
can control him. Then the Senate can control the count and, the
Senate appointing their President, become the sole controllers of
the vote in case of disagreement. What then becomes of the equal
measure of power in the two houses over this subject? If the power
may be said to exist only in case of disagreement, and then _ex_
_necessitate_ _rei_, all that remains for the Senate is to disagree,
and they themselves have created the very contingency that gives
them the power, through their President to have the vote counted or
not counted, as they may desire. Why, sir, such a statement
destroys all idea of equality of power between the two houses in
regard to this subject.
When the President of the Senate has opened the certificates and
handed them over to the tellers of the two houses, in the presence
of the two houses, his functions and powers have ended. He cannot
repossess himself of those certificates or papers. He can no longer
control their custody. They are then and thereafter in the
possession and under the control of the two houses who shall alone
dispose of them.
Why, sir, what a spectacle would it be, some ambitious and
unscrupulous man the presiding officer of the Senate, as was once
Aaron Burr, assuming the power to order the tellers to count the
vote of this State and reject the vote of that, and so boldly and
shamelessly reverse the action of the people expressed at the polls,
and step into the presidency by force of his own decision. Sir, this
is a reduction of the thing to an absurdity never dreamed of until
now, and impossible while this shall remain a free government of
law.
Now, Mr. President, as to the measure before us a few words. It will
be observed that this bill is enacted for the present year, and no
longer.
This is no answer to an alleged want of constitutional power
to pass it, but it is an answer in great degree where the mere
policy and temporary convenience of the act are to be considered.
In the first place, the bill gives to each house of Congress
equal power over the question of counting, at every stage.
It preserves intact the prerogatives, under the Constitution, of
each house.
It excludes any possibility of judicial determination by the
presiding officer of the Senate upon the reception and exclusion of
a vote.
The certificates of the electoral colleges will be placed in the
possession and subject to the disposition of both houses of Congress
in joint session.
The two houses are co-ordinate and separate and distinct. Neither
can dominate the other. They are to ascertain whether the electors
have been validly appointed, and whether they have validly performed
their duties as electors. The two houses must, under the act of
1792, "ascertain and declare" whether there has been a valid
election, according to the Constitution and laws of the United
States. The votes of the electors and the declaration of the result
by the two houses give a valid title, and nothing else can, unless
no majority has been disclosed by the count; in which case the duty
of the House is to be performed by electing a President, and of the
Senate by electing a Vice-President.
If it be the duty of the two houses "to ascertain" whether the
action of the electors has been in accordance with the Constitution,
they must inquire. They exercise supervisory power over every branch
of public administration and over the electors. The methods they
choose to employ in coming to a decision are such as the two houses,
acting separately or together, may lawfully employ. Sir, the grant
of power to the commission is in just that measure, no more and no
less. The decision they render can be overruled by the concurrent
votes of the two houses. Is it not competent for the two houses of
Congress to agree that a concurrent majority of the two houses is
necessary to reject the electoral vote of a State? If so, may they
not adopt means which they believe will tend to produce a
concurrence? Finally, sir, this bill secures the great object for
which the two houses were brought together: the counting of the
votes of the electoral college; not to elect a President by the two
houses, but to determine who has been elected agreeably to the
Constitution and the laws. It provides against the failure to count
the electoral vote of a State in event of disagreement between the
two houses, in case of single returns, and, in cases of contest and
double returns, furnishes a tribunal whose composition secures a
decision of the question in disagreement, and whose perfect justice
and impartiality cannot be gainsaid or doubted.
The tribunal is carved out of the body of the Senate and out of the
body of the House by their vote _viva_ _voce_. No man can sit upon
it from either branch without the choice, openly made, by a majority
of the body of which he is a member, that he shall go there. The
five judges who are chosen are from the court of last resort in this
country, men eminent for learning, selected for their places because
of the virtues and the capacities that fit them for this high
station. ... Mr. President, objection has been made to the
employment of the commission at all, to the creation of this
committee of five senators, five representatives, and five judges of
the Supreme Court, and the reasons for the objection have not been
distinctly stated. The reasons for the appointment I will dwell
upon briefly.
Sir, how has the count of the vote of every President and
Vice-President, from the time of George Washington and John Adams,
in 1789, to the present day, been made? Always and without
exception by tellers appointed by the two houses. This is without
exception, even in the much commented case of Mr. John Langdon, who,
before the government was in operation, upon the recommendation of
the constitutional convention, was appointed by the Senate its
President, for the sole purpose of opening and counting these votes.
He did it, as did every successor to him, under the motion and
authority of the two houses of Congress, who appointed their own
agents, called tellers to conduct the count, and whose count, being
reported to him, was by him declared.
From 1793 to 1865 the count of votes was conducted under concurrent
resolutions of the two houses, appointing their respective
committees to join "in ascertaining and reporting a mode of
examining the votes for President and Vice-President."
The respective committees reported resolutions fixing the time and
place for the assembling of the two houses, and appointing tellers
to conduct the examination on the part of each house respectively.
Mr. President, the office of teller, or the word "teller," is
unknown to the Constitution, and yet each house has appointed
tellers, and has acted upon their report, as I have said, from the
very foundation of the government. The present commission is more
elaborate, but its objects and its purposes are the same, the
information and instruction of the two houses who have a precisely
equal share in its creation and organization; they are the
instrumentalities of the two houses for performing the high
constitutional duty of ascertaining whom the electors in the several
States have duly chosen President and Vice-President of the United
States. Whatever is the jurisdiction and power of the two houses of
Congress over the votes, and the judgment of either reception or
rejection, is by this law wholly conferred upon this commission of
fifteen. The bill presented does not define what that jurisdiction
and power is, but it leaves it all as it is, adding nothing,
subtracting nothing. Just what power the Senate by itself, or the
House by itself, or the Senate and the House acting together, have
over the subject of counting, admitting, or rejecting an electoral
vote, in case of double returns from the same State, that power is
by this act, no more and no less, vested in the commission of
fifteen men; reserving, however, to the two houses the power of
overruling the decision of the commission by their concurrent
action.
The delegation to masters in chancery of the consideration and
adjustments of questions of mingled law and fact is a matter of
familiar and daily occurrence in the courts of the States and of the
United States.
The circuit court of the United States is composed of the district
judge and the circuit judge, and the report to them of a master is
affirmed unless both judges concur in overruling it.
Under the present bill the decision of the commission will stand
unless overruled by the concurrent votes of the two houses. I do not
propose to follow the example which has been set here in the Senate
by some of the advocates as well as the opponents of this measure,
and discuss what construction is to be given and what definition may
be applied or ought to be applied in the exercise of this power by
the commission under this law. Let me read the bill:--
All the certificates and papers purporting to be certificates of the
electoral votes of each State shall be opened, in the alphabetical
order of the States, as provided in Section 1 of this act; and when
there shall be more than one such certificate or paper, as the
certificates and papers from such State shall so be opened
(excepting duplicates of the same return), they shall be read by the
tellers, and thereupon the President of the Senate shall call for
objections, if any. Every objection shall be made in writing, and
shall state clearly and concisely, and without argument, the ground
thereof, and shall be signed by at least one Senator and one Member
of the House of Representatives before the same shall be received.
When all such objections so made to any certificate, vote, or paper
from a State shall have been received and read, all such
certificates, votes, and papers so objected to, and all papers
accompanying the same, together with such objections, shall be
forthwith submitted to said commission, which shall proceed to
consider the same, with the same powers, if any, now possessed for
that purpose by the two houses acting separately or together, and,
by a majority of votes, decide whether any and what votes from such
States are the votes provided for by the Constitution of the United
States, and how many and what persons were duly appointed electors
in such State, and may therein take into view such petitions,
depositions, and other papers, if any, as shall, by the Constitution
and now existing law, be competent and pertinent in such
consideration: which decision shall be made in writing.
It will be observed that all the questions to be decided by this
commission are to be contained in the written objections. Until
those objections are read and filed, their contents must be unknown,
and the issues raised by them undescribed. But whatever they are,
they are submitted to the decision of the commission. The duty of
interpreting this law and of giving a construction to the
Constitution and existing laws is vested in the commission; and I
hold that we have no right or power to control in advance, by our
construction, their sworn judgment as to the matters which they are
to decide. We would defeat the very object of the bill should we
invade the essential power of judgment of this commission and
establish a construction in advance and bind them to it. It would,
in effect, be giving to them a mere mock power to decide by leaving
them nothing to decide.
Mr. President, there are certainly very good reasons why the
concurrent action of both houses should be necessary to reject a
vote. It is that feature of this bill which has my heartiest
concurrence; for I will frankly say that the difficulties which have
oppressed me most in considering this question a year or more ago,
before any method had been devised, arose from my apprehensions of
the continued absorption of undue power over the affairs of the
States; and I here declare that the power and the sole power of
appointing the electors is in the State, and nowhere else. The
power of ascertaining whether the State has executed that power
justly and according to the Constitution and laws is the duty which
is cast upon the two houses of Congress. Now, if, under the guise
or pretext of judging of the regularity of the action of a State or
its electors, the Congress or either house may interpose the will of
its members in opposition to the will of the State, the act will be
one of usurpation and wrong, although I do not see where is the
tribunal to arrest and punish it except the great tribunal of an
honest public opinion. But sir that tribunal, though great, though
in the end certain, is yet ofttimes slow to be awakened to action;
and therefore I rejoice when the two houses agree that neither of
them shall be able to reject the vote of a State which is without
contest arising within that State itself, but that the action of
both shall be necessary to concur in the rejection.
If either house may reject, or by dissenting cause a rejection, then
it is in the power of either house to overthrow the electoral
colleges or the popular vote, and throw the election upon the House
of Representatives. This, it is clear to me, cannot be lawfully done
unless no candidate has received a majority of the votes of all the
electors appointed. The sworn duty is to ascertain what persons have
been chosen by the electors, and not to elect by Congress.
It may be said that the Senate would not be apt to throw the
election into the House. Not so, Mr. President; look at the
relative majorities of the two houses of Congress as they will be
after the fourth of March next. It is true there will be a
numerical majority of the members of the Democratic party in the
House of Representatives, but the States represented will have a
majority as States of the Republican party. If the choice were to
be made after March 4th, then a Republican Senate, by rejecting or
refusing to count votes, could of its own motion throw the election
into the House; which, voting by States, would be in political
accord with the Senate. The House of Representatives, like the
present House in its political complexion, composed of a numerical
majority, and having also a majority of the States of the same
party, would have the power then to draw the election into its own
hands. Mr. President, either of these powers would be utterly
dangerous and in defeat of the object and intent of the
constitutional provisions on this subject.
Sir, this was my chief objection to the twenty-second joint rule.
Under that rule either house of Congress, without debate, without
law, without reason, without justice, could, by the sheer exercise
of its will or its caprice, disfranchise any State in the electoral
college. Under that rule we lived and held three presidential
elections.
In January 1873, under a resolution introduced by the honorable
Senator from Ohio [Mr. Sherman] and adopted by the Senate, the
Committee on Privileges and Elections, presided over by the
honorable Senator from Indiana [Mr Morton], proceeded to investigate
the elections held in the States of Louisiana and Arkansas, and
inquired whether these elections had been held in accordance with
the Constitution and laws of the United States and the laws of said
States, and sent for persons and papers and made thorough
investigation, which resulted in excluding the electoral votes of
Louisiana from the count, (See Report No. 417, third session
Forty-Second Congress.)
The popular vote was then cast, and it was cast at the mercy of a
majority in either branch of Congress, who claimed the right to
annul it by casting out States until they should throw the election
into a Republican House of Representatives. I saw that dangerous
power then, and, because I saw it then, am I so blind, am I so
without principle in my action, that I should ask for myself a
dangerous power that I refused to those who differ from me in
opinion? God forbid.
This concurrence of the two houses to reject the electoral votes of
a State was the great feature that John Marshall sought for in
1800. The Senate then proposed that either house should have power
to reject a vote. The House of Representatives, under the lead of
John Marshall, declared that they should concur to reject the vote,
and upon that difference of opinion the measure fell and was never
revived. In 1824 the bill prepared by Mr. Van Buren contained the
same wholesome principle and provided that the two houses must
concur in the rejection of a vote. Mr. Van Buren reported this bill
in 1824. It was amended and passed, and, as far as I can find from
the record, without a division of the Senate. It was referred in the
House of Representatives to the Committee on the Judiciary, and it
was reported back by Mr. Daniel Webster, without amendment, to the
Committee of the Whole House, showing their approval of the bill;
and that principle is thoroughly incorporated in the present measure
and gives to me one of the strong reasons for my approval.
Mr. President, this bill is not the product of any one man's mind,
but it is the result of careful study and frequent amendment.
Mutual concessions, modifications of individual preferences, were
constantly and necessarily made in the course of framing such a
measure as it now stands. My individual opinions might lead me to
object to the employment of the judicial branch at all, of
ingrafting even to any extent political power upon the judicial
branch or its members, or confiding to them any question even
quasi-political in its character. To this I have expressed and
still have disinclination, but my sense of the general value of this
measure and the necessity for the adoption of a plan outweighed my
disposition to insist upon my own preferences as to this feature.
At first I was disposed to question the constitutional power to call
in the five justices of the Supreme Court, but the duty of
ascertaining what are the votes, the true votes, under the
Constitution, having been imposed upon the commission, the methods
were necessarily discretionary with the two houses. Any and every
aid that intelligence and skill combined can furnish may be justly
used when it is appropriate to the end in view.
Why, sir, the members of the Supreme Court have in the history of
this country been employed in public service entirely distinct from
judicial function. Here lately the treaty of Washington was
negotiated by a member of the Supreme Court of the United States;
the venerable and learned Mr. Justice Nelson, of New York, was
nominated by the President and confirmed by the Senate as one of the
Joint High Commission. Chief-Justice Jay was sent in 1794, while he
was chief-justice of the United States, as minister plenipotentiary
to England, and negotiated a treaty of permanent value and
importance to both countries. He was holding court in the city of
Philadelphia at the time that he was nominated and confirmed, as is
found by reference to his biography, and--
Without vacating his seat upon the bench he went to England,
negotiated the treaty which has since borne his name, and returned
to this country in the spring of the following year.
His successor was Chief-Justice Rutledge, and the next to him was
Chief-Justice Oliver Ellsworth. He, while holding the high place of
chief-justice, was nominated and confirmed as minister plenipotentiary
to Spain. By a law of Congress the chief-justice of the United
States is _ex_ _officio_ the president of the Board of Regents of
the Smithsonian Institution.
Mr. Morton--I should like to ask the Senator, if it does not
interrupt him, whether he regards the five judges acting on this
commission as acting in their character as judges of the Supreme
Court, if that is their official character, and that this bill
simply enlarges their jurisdiction in that respect?
Mr. Bayard--Certainly not, Mr. President. They are not acting as
judges of the Supreme Court, and their powers and their jurisdiction
as judges of the Supreme Court are not in any degree involved; they
are simply performing functions under the government not
inconsistent, by the Constitution, or the law, or the policy of the
law, with the stations which they now hold. So I hold that the
employment of one or more of the Supreme Court judges in the matter
under discussion was appropriate legislation. We have early and high
authority in the majorities in both House and Senate in the bill of
1800, in both of which houses a bill was passed creating a
commission similar to that proposed by this bill and calling in the
chief-justice of the United States as the chairman of the grand
committee, as they called it then, a commission as we term it now.
As has been said before, many of the Senators and members of the
Congress of 1800 had taken part in the convention that framed the
Constitution, and all were its contemporaries, and one of the chief
actors in the proceedings on the part of the House of Representatives
was John Marshall, of Virginia, who one year afterward became the
chief-justice of the United States, whose judicial interpretations
have since that time clad the skeleton of the Constitution with
muscles of robust power. Is it not safe to abide by such examples?
And I could name many more, and some to whom my respect is due for
other and personal reasons.
In the debate of 1817, in the case of the disputed vote of Indiana;
in 1820, in the case of Missouri; and again in 1857, in the case of
Wisconsin, I find an array of constitutional lawyers who took part
in those debates, among them the most distinguished members of both
political parties, concurring in the opinion that by appropriate
legislation all causes of dispute on this all-important matter of
counting the electoral vote could be and ought to be adjusted
satisfactorily. Why, sir, even the dictum of Chancellor Kent, that
has been read here with so much apparent confidence by the honorable
Senator from Indiana, is itself expressed to be his opinion of the
law "in the absence of legislation on the subject."
Mr. President, there were other objections to this bill; one by the
honorable Senator from Indiana. He denounced it as "a compromise."
I have gone over its features and I have failed to discover, nor has
the fact yet been stated in my hearing, wherein anything is
compromised. What power of the Senate is relinquished? What power
of the House is relinquished? What power that both should possess
is withheld? I do not know where the compromise can be, what
principle is surrendered. This bill intends to compromise nothing
in the way of principle, to compromise no right, but to provide an
honest adjudication for the rights of all. Where is it unjust? Whose
rights are endangered by it? Who can foretell the judgment of this
commission upon any question of law or fact? Sir, there is no
compromise in any sense of the word, but there is a blending of
feeling, a blending of opinions in favor of right and justice.
But, sir, if it were a compromise, what is there in compromise that
is discreditable either to men or to nations? This very charter of
government under which we live was created in a spirit of compromise
and mutual concession. Without that spirit it never would have been
made, and without a continuance of that spirit it will not be
prolonged. Sir, when the Committee on Style and Revision of the
Federal convention of 1787 had prepared a digest of their plan, they
reported a letter to accompany the plan to Congress, from which I
take these words as being most applicable to the bill under
consideration:--
And thus the Constitution which we now present is the result of a
spirit of amity and of that mutual deference and concession which
the peculiarity of our political situation rendered indispensable.
The language of that letter may well be applied to the present
measure; and had the words been recalled to my memory before the
report was framed I cannot doubt that they would have been adopted
as part of it to be sent here to the Senate as descriptive of the
spirit and of the object with which the committee had acted.
But, sir, the honorable Senator also stated, as a matter deterring
us from our proper action on this bill, that the shadow of
intimidation had entered the halls of Congress, and that members of
this committee had joined in this report and presented this bill
under actual fear of personal violence. Such a statement seems to me
almost incredible. I may not read other men's hearts and know what
they have felt, nor can I measure the apprehension of personal
danger felt by the honorable Senator. It seems to me incredible.
Fear, if I had it, had been the fear of doing wrong in this great
juncture of public affairs, not the fear of the consequences of doing
right. Had there been this intimidation tenfold repeated to which the
Senator has alluded, and of which I have no knowledge, I should have
scorned myself had I hesitated one moment in my onward march of duty
on this subject.
"Hate's yell, or envy's hiss, or folly's bray"--
what are they to a man who, in the face of events such as now
confront us, is doing that which his conscience dictates to him do?
It has been more than one hundred years since a great judgment was
delivered in Westminster Hall in England by one of the great judges
of our English-speaking people. Lord Mansfield, when delivering
judgment in the case of the King against John Wilkes, was assailed
by threats of popular violence of every description, and he has
placed upon record how such threats should be met by any public man
who sees before him the clear star of duty and trims his bark only
that he may follow it through darkness and through light. I will ask
my friend from Missouri if he will do me the favor to read the
extract to which I have alluded.
Mr. Cockrell read as follows:--
But here, let me pause.
It is fit to take some notice of the various terrors hung out; the
numerous crowds which have attended and now attend in and about the
hall, out of all reach of hearing what passes in court, and the
tumults which, in other places, have shamefully insulted all order
and government. Audacious addresses in print dictate to us from
those they call the people, the judgment to be given now and
afterward upon the conviction. Reasons of policy are urged from
danger to the kingdom by commotion and general confusion.
Give me leave to take the opportunity of this great and respectable
audience to let the whole world know all such attempts are vain.
I pass over many anonymous letters I have received. Those in print
are public; and some of them have been brought judicially before the
court. Whoever the writers are, they take the wrong way. I will do
my duty, unawed. What am I to fear? That _mendax_ _infamia_ from
the press, which daily coins false facts and false motives? The
lies of calumny carry no terror to me. I trust that my temper of
mind, and the color and conduct of my life, have given me a suit of
armor against these arrows. If, during this king's reign, I have
ever supported his government, and assisted his measures, I have
done it without any other reward than the consciousness of doing
what I thought right. If I have ever opposed, I have done it upon
the points themselves, without mixing in party or faction, and
without any collateral views. I honor the king, and respect the
people; bat many things acquired by force of either, are, in my
account, objects not worth ambition. I wish popularity; but it is
that popularity which follows, not that which is run after. It is
that popularity which, sooner or later, never fails to do justice to
the pursuit of noble ends by noble means. I will not do that which
my conscience tells me is wrong upon this occasion to gain the
huzzas of thousands, or the daily praise of all the papers which
come from the press; I will not avoid doing what I think is right,
though it should draw on me the whole artillery of libel, all that
falsehood and malice can invent or the credulity of a deluded
populace can swallow. I can say, with a great magistrate, upon an
occasion and under circumstances not unlike, "_Ego_ _hoc_ _animo_
_semper_ _fui_. _ut_ _invidiam_ _virtute_ _partam_ _gloriam_, _non_
_invidiam_ _putarem_."
The threats go further than abuse; personal violence is denounced. I
do not believe it; it is not the genius of the worst men of this
country in the worst of times. But I have set my mind at rest. The
last end that can happen to any man never comes too soon, if he
falls in support of the law and liberty of his country (for liberty
is synonymous to law and government). Such a shock, too, might be
productive of public good: it might awake the better part of the
kingdom out of that lethargy which seems to have benumbed them; and
bring the mad part back to their senses, as men intoxicated are
sometimes stunned into sobriety.--Burrows's Reports No. 4,
pp. 2561-3.
Mr. Bayard--Mr. President, in the course of my duty here as a
representative of the rights of others, as a chosen and sworn public
servant, I feel that I have no right to give my individual wishes,
prejudices, interests, undue influence over my public action. To do
so would be to commit a breach of trust in the powers confided to
me. It is true I was chosen a Senator by a majority only, but not
for a majority only. I was chosen by a party, but not for a party.
I represent all the good people of the State which has sent me here.
In my office as a Senator I recognize no claim upon my action in the
name and for the sake of party. The oath I have taken is to support
the Constitution of my country's government, not the fiat of any
political organization, even could its will be ascertained. In
sessions preceding the present I have adverted to the difficulty
attending the settlement of this great question, and have urgently
besought action in advance at a time when the measure adopted could
not serve to predicate its results to either party. My failure then
gave me great uneasiness, and filled me with anxiety; and yet I can
now comprehend the wisdom concealed in my disappointment, for in the
very emergency of this hour, in the shadow of the danger that has
drawn so nigh to us, has been begotten in the hearts of American
Senators and Representatives and the American people a spirit worthy
of the occasion--born to meet these difficulties, to cope with
them, and, God willing, to conquer them.
Animated by this spirit the partisan is enlarged into the patriot.
Before it the lines of party sink into hazy obscurity; and the
horizon which bounds our view reaches on every side to the uttermost
verge of the great Republic. It is a spirit that exalts humanity,
and imbued with it the souls of men soar into the pure air of
unselfish devotion to the public welfare. It lighted with a smile
the cheek of Curtius as he rode into the gulf; it guided the hand of
Aristides as he sadly wrote upon the shell the sentence of his own
banishment; it dwelt in the frozen earthworks of Valley Forge; and
from time to time it has been an inmate of these halls of
legislation. I believe it is here to-day, and that the present
measure was born under its influence.
LORD BEACONSFIELD (BENJAMIN DISRAELI) (1804-1881)
When, at the age of thirty-three. Benjamin Disraeli entered the
House of Commons, he was flushed with his first literary successes
and inclined perhaps to take parliamentary popularity by storm. It
was the first year of Victoria's reign (1837) and the fashions of
the times allowed great latitude for the display of idiosyncracies
in dress. It seems that Disraeli pushed this advantage to the point
of license. We hear much of the amount of jewelry he wore and of the
gaudiness of his waistcoats. This may or may not have had a deciding
influence in determining the character of his reception by the
house, but at any rate it was a tempestuous one. He was repeatedly
interrupted, and when he attempted to proceed the uproar of cries
and laughter finally overpowered him and he abandoned for the time
being the attempt to speak--not, however, until he had served on
the house due notice of his great future, expressed in the memorable
words--thundered, we are told, at the top of his voice, and
audible still in English history--"You shall hear me!"
Not ten years later, the young man with the gaudy waistcoats had
become the leading Conservative orator of the campaign against the
Liberals on their Corn Law policy and so great was the impression
produced by his speeches that in 1852, when the Derby ministry was
formed, he was made Chancellor of the Exchequer.
The secret of his success is the thorough-going way in which he
identified himself with the English aristocracy. Where others had
apologized for aristocracy as a method of government, he justified.
Instead of excusing and avoiding, he assumed that a government of
privilege rather than that based on rights or the assumption of
their existence is the best possible government, the only natural
one, the only one capable of perpetuating itself without constant
and violent changes. Kept on the defensive by the forward movement
of the people, as well as by the tendency towards Liberalism or
Radicalism shown by the men of highest education among the
aristocratic classes themselves, the English Conservatives were
delighted to find a man of great ability and striking eloquence, who
seemed to have a religious conviction that "Toryism" was the only
means of saving society and ensuring progress. It is characteristic
of his mind and his methods, that he does not shrink from calling
himself a Tory. He is as proud of bearing that reproach as Camilla
Desmoulins was of being called a Sansculotte. When a man is thus
"for thorough," he becomes representative of all who have his
aspirations or share his tendencies without his aggressiveness. No
doubt Disraeli's speeches are the best embodiment of Tory principle,
the most attractive presentation of aristocratic purposes in
government made in the nineteenth century. No member of the English
peerage to the "manner born" has approached him in this respect.
It is not a question of whether others have equaled or exceeded him
in ability or statesmanship. On that point there may be room for
difference of opinion, but to read any one of his great speeches is
to see at once that he has the infinite advantage of the rest in
being the strenuous and faith-inspired champion of aristocracy and
government by privilege--not the mere defender and apologist for
it.
In the extent of his information, the energy and versatility of his
intellect, and the boldness of his methods, he had no equal among
the Conservative leaders of the Victorian reign. His audacity was
well illustrated when, after the great struggle over the reform
measures of 1866 which he opposed, the Conservatives succeeded to
power, and he, as their representative, advanced a measure "more
sweeping in its nature as a reform bill than that he had
successfully opposed" when it was advocated by Gladstone. In
foreign affairs, he showed the same boldness, working to check the
Liberal advance at home by directing public attention away from
domestic grievances to brilliant achievements abroad. This policy
which his opponents resented the more bitterly because they saw it
to be the only one by which they could be held in check, won him the
title of "Jingo," and made him the leading representative of British
imperialism abroad as he was of English aristocracy at home.
THE ASSASSINATION OF LINCOLN (From a Speech in Parliament, 1865)
There are rare instances when the sympathy of a nation approaches
those tenderer feelings which are generally supposed to be peculiar
to the individual and to be the happy privilege of private life; and
this is one. Under any circumstances we should have bewailed the
catastrophe at Washington; under any circumstances we should have
shuddered at the means by which it was accomplished. But in the
character of the victim, and even in the accessories of his last
moments, there is something so homely and innocent that it takes the
question, as it were, out of all the pomp of history and the
ceremonial of diplomacy,--it touches the heart of nations and
appeals to the domestic sentiment of mankind. Whatever the various
and varying opinions in this house, and in the country generally, on
the policy of the late President of the United States, all must
agree that in one of the severest trials which ever tested the moral
qualities of man he fulfilled his duty with simplicity and strength.
Nor is it possible for the people of England at such a moment to
forget that he sprang from the same fatherland and spoke the same
mother tongue. When such crimes are perpetrated the public mind is
apt to fall into gloom and perplexity, for it is ignorant alike of
the causes and the consequences of such deeds. But it is one of our
duties to reassure them under unreasoning panic and despondency.
Assassination has never changed the history of the world. I will
not refer to the remote past, though an accident has made the most
memorable instance of antiquity at this moment fresh in the minds
and memory of all around me. But even the costly sacrifice of a
Caesar did not propitiate the inexorable destiny of his country. If
we look to modern times, to times at least with the feelings of
which we are familiar, and the people of which were animated and
influenced by the same interests as ourselves, the violent deaths of
two heroic men, Henry IV. of France and the Prince of Orange, are
conspicuous illustrations of this truth. In expressing our
unaffected and profound sympathy with the citizens of the United
States on this untimely end of their elected chief, let us not,
therefore, sanction any feeling of depression, but rather let us
express a fervent hope that from out of the awful trials of the last
four years, of which the least is not this violent demise, the
various populations of North America may issue elevated and
chastened, rich with the accumulated wisdom and strong in the
disciplined energy which a young nation can only acquire in a
protracted and perilous struggle. Then they will be enabled not
merely to renew their career of power and prosperity, but they will
renew it to contribute to the general happiness of mankind. It is
with these feelings that I second the address to the crown.
AGAINST DEMOCRACY FOR ENGLAND (Delivered in 1865)
Sir, I could have wished, and once I almost believed, that it was
not necessary for me to take part in this debate. I look on this
discussion as the natural epilogue of the Parliament of 1859; we
remember the prologue. I consider this to be a controversy between
the educated section of the Liberal party and that section of the
Liberal party, according to their companions and colleagues, not
entitled to an epithet so euphuistic and complimentary. But after
the speech of the minister, I hardly think it would become me,
representing the opinions of the gentlemen with whom I am acting on
this side of the house, entirely to be silent. We have a measure
before us to-night which is to increase the franchise in boroughs.
Without reference to any other circumstances I object to that measure.
I object to it because an increase of the franchise in boroughs is a
proposal to redistribute political power in the country. I do not
think political power in the country ought to be treated partially;
from the very nature of things it is impossible, if there is to be a
redistribution of political power, that you can only regard the
suffrage as it affects one section of the constituent body.
Whatever the proposition of the honorable gentleman, whether
abstractedly it may be expedient or not, this is quite clear, that
it must be considered not only in relation to the particular persons
with whom it will deal, but to other persons with whom it does not
deal, though it would affect them. And therefore it has always been
quite clear that if you deal with the subject popularly called
Parliamentary Reform, you must deal with it comprehensively. The
arrangements you may make with reference to one part of the
community may not be objectionable in themselves, but may be
extremely objectionable if you consider them with reference to other
parts. Consequently it has been held--and the more we consider the
subject the more true and just appears to be the conclusion--that
if you deal with the matter you must deal with it comprehensively.
You must not only consider borough constituencies, you must consider
county constituencies: and when persons rise up and urge their
claims to be introduced into the constituent body, even if you think
there is a plausible claim substantiated on their part, you are
bound in policy and justice to consider also the claims of other
bodies not in possession of the franchise, but whose right to
consideration may be equally great. And so clear is it when you
come to the distribution of power that you must consider the subject
in all its bearings, that even honorable gentlemen who have taken
part in this debate have not been able to avoid the question of what
they call the redistribution of seats--a very important part of
the distribution of power. It is easy for the honorable member for
Liskeard, for example, to rise and say, in supporting this measure
for the increase of the borough franchise, that it is impossible any
longer to conceal the anomalies of our system in regard to the
distribution of seats. "Is it not monstrous," he asks, "that Calne,
with 173 voters, should return a member, while Glasgow returns only
two, with a constituency of 20,000?" Well, it may be equally
monstrous that Liskeard should return one member, and that
Birkenhead should only make a similar return. The distribution of
seats, as any one must know who has ever considered the subject
deeply and with a sense of responsibility towards the country, is
one of the most profound and difficult questions that can be brought
before the house. It is all very well to treat it in an easy,
offhand manner; but how are you to reconcile the case of North
Cheshire, of North Durham, of West Kent, and many other counties,
where you find four or six great towns, with a population, perhaps,
of 100,000, returning six members to this house, while the rest of
the population of the county, though equal in amount, returns only
two members? How are you to meet the case of the representation of
South Lancashire in reference to its boroughs? Why, those are more
anomalous than the case of Calne.
Then there is the question of Scotland. With a population hardly
equal to that of the metropolis, and with wealth greatly inferior--
probably not more than two-thirds of the amount--Scotland yet
possesses forty-eight members, while the metropolis has only twenty.
Do you Reformers mean to say that you are prepared to disfranchise
Scotland; or that you are going to develop the representation of the
metropolis in proportion to its population and property; and so
allow a country like England, so devoted to local government and so
influenced by local feeling, to be governed by London? And,
therefore, when those speeches are made which gain a cheer for the
moment, and are supposed to be so unanswerable as arguments in favor
of parliamentary change, I would recommend the house to recollect
that this, as a question, is one of the most difficult and one of
the deepest that can possibly engage the attention of the country.
The fact is this--in the representation of this country you do not
depend on population or on property merely, or on both conjoined;
you have to see that there is something besides population and
property--you have to take care that the country itself is
represented. That is one reason why I am opposed to the second
reading of the bill. There is another objection which I have to
this bill brought forward by the honorable member for Leeds, and
that is, that it is brought forward by the member for Leeds. I do
not consider this a subject which ought to be intrusted to the care
and guidance of any independent member of this house. If there be
one subject more than another that deserves the consideration and
demands the responsibility of the government, it certainly is the
reconstruction of our parliamentary system; and it is the government
or the political party candidates for power, who recommend a policy,
and who will not shrink from the responsibility of carrying that
policy into effect if the opportunity be afforded to them, who alone
are qualified to deal with a question of this importance. But, sir,
I shall be told, as we have been told in a previous portion of the
adjourned debate, that the two great parties of the State cannot be
trusted to deal with this question, because they have both trifled
with it. That is a charge which has been made repeatedly during
this discussion and on previous occasions, and certainly a graver
one could not be made in this house. I am not prepared to admit
that even our opponents have trifled with this question. We have
had a very animated account by the right honorable gentleman who has
just addressed us as to what may be called the Story of the Reform
Measures. It was animated, but it was not accurate. Mine will be
accurate, though I fear it will not be animated. I am not prepared
to believe that English statesmen, though they be opposed to me in
politics, and may sit on opposite benches, could ever have intended
to trifle with this question. I think that possibly they may have
made great mistakes in the course which they took; they may have
miscalculated, they may have been misled; but I do not believe that
any men in this country, occupying the posts, the eminent posts, of
those who have recommended any reconstruction of our parliamentary
system in modern days, could have advised a course which they
disapproved. They may have thought it perilous, they may have
thought it difficult, but though they may have been misled I am
convinced they must have felt that it was necessary. Let me say a
word in favor of one with whom I have had no political connection,
and to whom I have been placed in constant opposition in this house
when he was an honored member of it--I mean Lord Russell. I
cannot at all agree with the lively narrative of the right honorable
gentleman, according to which Parliamentary Reform was but the
creature of Lord John Russell, whose cabinet, controlled by him with
the vigor of a Richelieu, at all times disapproved his course; still
less can I acknowledge that merely to amuse himself, or in a moment
of difficulty to excite some popular sympathy, Lord John Russell was
a statesman always with Reform in his pocket, ready to produce it
and make a display. How different from that astute and sagacious
statesman now at the head of her Majesty's government, whom I almost
hoped to have seen in his place this evening. I am sure it would
have given the house great pleasure to have seen him here, and the
house itself would have assumed a more good-humored appearance. I
certainly did hope that the noble lord would have been enabled to be
in his place and prepared to support his policy. According to the
animated but not quite accurate account of the right honorable
gentleman who has just sat down, all that Lord Derby did was to
sanction the humor and caprice of Lord John Russell. It is true
that Lord John Russell when prime minister recommended that her
Majesty in the speech from the throne should call the attention of
Parliament to the expediency of noticing the condition of our
representative system; but Lord John Russell unfortunately shortly
afterwards retired from his eminent position.
He was succeeded by one of the most considerable statesmen of our
days, a statesman not connected with the political school of Lord
John Russell, who was called to power not only with assistance of
Lord John Russell and the leading members of the Whig party, but
supported by the whole class of eminent statesmen who had been
educated in the same school and under the same distinguished master.
This eminent statesman, however, is entirely forgotten. The right
honorable gentleman overlooks the fact that Lord Aberdeen, when
prime minister, and when all the principal places in his cabinet
were filled with the disciples of Sir Robert Peel, did think it his
duty to recommend the same counsel to her Majesty. But this is an
important, and not the only important, item in the history of the
Reform Bill which has been ignored by the right honorable gentleman.
The time, however, came when Lord Aberdeen gave place to another
statesman, who has been complimented on his sagacity in evading the
subject, as if such a course would be a subject for congratulation.
Let me vindicate the policy of Lord Palmerston in his absence. He
did not evade the question. Lord Palmerston followed the example of
Lord John Russell. He followed the example also of Lord Aberdeen,
and recommended her Majesty to notice the subject in the speech from
the throne. What becomes, then, of the lively narrative of the
right honorable gentleman, and what becomes of the inference and
conclusions which he drew from it? Not only is his account
inaccurate, but it is injurious, as I take it, to the course of
sound policy and the honor of public men. Well, now you have three
prime ministers bringing forward the question of Parliamentary
Reform; you have Lord John Russell, Lord Aberdeen, and you have even
that statesman who, according to the account of the right honorable
gentleman, was so eminent for his sagacity in evading the subject
altogether. Now, let me ask the house to consider the position of
Lord Derby when he was called to power, a position which you cannot
rightly understand if you accept as correct the fallacious
statements of the right honorable gentleman. I will give the house
an account of this subject, the accuracy of which I believe neither
side will impugn. It may not possibly be without interest, and will
not, I am sure, be without significance. Lord Derby was sent for by
her Majesty--an unwilling candidate for office, for let me remind
the house that at that moment there was an adverse majority of 140
in the House of Commons, and I therefore do not think that Lord
Derby was open to any imputation in hesitating to accept political
responsibility under such circumstances. Lord Derby laid these
considerations before her Majesty. I speak, of course, with
reserve. I say nothing now which I have not said before on the
discussion of political subjects in this house. But when a
government comes in on Reform and remains in power six years without
passing any measure of the kind, it is possible that these
circumstances, too, may be lost sight of. Lord Derby advised her
Majesty not to form a government under his influence, because there
existed so large a majority against him in the House of Commons, and
because this question of Reform was placed in such a position that
it was impossible to deal with it as he should wish. But it should
be remembered that Lord Derby was a member of the famous Cabinet
which carried the Reform Bill in 1832. Lord Derby, as Lord Stanley,
was in the House of Commons one of the most efficient promoters of
the measure. Lord Derby believed that the bill had tended to effect
the purpose for which it was designed, and although no man superior
to prejudices could fail to see that some who were entitled to the
exercise of the franchise were still debarred from the privilege,
yet he could not also fail to perceive the danger which would arise
from our tampering with the franchise. On these grounds Lord Derby
declined the honor which her Majesty desired to confer upon him, but
the appeal was repeated. Under these circumstances it would have
been impossible for any English statesman longer to hesitate; but I
am bound to say that there was no other contract or understanding
further than that which prevails among men, however different their
politics, who love their country and wish to maintain its greatness.
I am bound to add that there was an understanding at the time
existing among men of weight on both sides of the house that the
position in which the Reform question was placed was one
embarrassing to the crown and not creditable to the house, and that
any minister trying his best to deal with it under these
circumstances would receive the candid consideration of the house.
It was thought, moreover, that a time might possibly arrive when
both parties would unite in endeavoring to bring about a solution
which would tend to the advantage and benefit of the country. And
yet, says the right honorable gentleman, it was only in 1860 that
the portentous truth flashed across the mind of the country--only
in 1860, after so many ministers had been dealing with the question
for so many years. All I can say is that this was the question, and
the only question, which engaged the attention of Lord Derby's
cabinet. The question was whether they could secure the franchise
for a certain portion of the working classes, who by their industry,
their intelligence, and their integrity, showed that they were
worthy of such a possession, without at the same time overwhelming
the rest of the constituency by the numbers of those whom they
admitted. That, sir, was the only question which occupied the
attention of the government of Lord Derby and yet the right
honorable gentleman says that it was in 1860 that the attention of
the public was first called to the subject, when, in fact, the
question of Parliamentary Reform had been before them for ten years,
and on a greater scale than that embraced by the measure under
consideration this evening.
I need not remind the house of the reception which Lord Derby's Bill
encountered. It is neither my disposition, nor, I am sure, that of
any of my colleagues, to complain of the votes of this house on that
occasion. Political life must be taken as you find it, and as far as
I am concerned not a word shall escape me on the subject. But from
the speeches made the first night, and from the speech made by the
right honorable gentleman this evening, I believe I am right in
vindicating the conduct pursued by the party with which I act. I
believe that the measure which we brought forward was the only one
which has tended to meet the difficulties which beset this question.
Totally irrespective of other modes of dealing with the question,
there were two franchises especially proposed on this occasion, which,
in my mind, would have done much towards solving the difficulty. The
first was the franchise founded upon personal property, and the second
the franchise founded upon partial occupation. Those two franchises,
irrespective of other modes by which we attempted to meet the want and
the difficulty--these two franchises, had they been brought into
committee of this house, would, in my opinion, have been so shaped and
adapted that they would have effected those objects which the majority
of the house desire. We endeavored in that bill to make proposals
which were in the genius of the English constitution. We did not
consider the constitution a mere phrase. We knew that the
constitution of this country is a monarchy tempered by co-ordinate
estates of the realm. We knew that the House of Commons is an estate
of the realm; we knew that the estates of the realm form a political
body, invested with political power for the government of the country
and for the public good; yet we thought that it was a body founded
upon privilege and not upon right. It is, therefore, in the noblest
and properest sense of the word, an aristocratic body, and from that
characteristic the Reform Bill of 1832 did not derogate; and if at
this moment we could contrive, as we did in 1859, to add considerably
to the number of the constituent body, we should not change that
characteristic, but it would still remain founded upon an aristocratic
principle. Well, now the Secretary of State [Sir G. Grey] has
addressed us to-night in a very remarkable speech. He also takes up
the history of Reform, and before I touch upon some of the features of
that speech it is my duty to refer to the statements which he made
with regard to the policy which the government of Lord Derby was
prepared to assume after the general election. By a total
misrepresentation of the character of the amendment proposed by Lord
John Russell, which threw the government of 1858 into a minority, and
by quoting a passage from a very long speech of mine in 1859, the
right honorable gentleman most dexterously conveyed these two
propositions to the house--first, that Lord John Russell had proposed
an amendment to our Reform Bill, by which the house declared that no
bill could be satisfactory by which the working classes were not
admitted to the franchise--one of our main objects being that the
working classes should in a great measure be admitted to the
franchise; and, secondly, that after the election I was prepared, as
the organ of the government, to give up all the schemes for those
franchises founded upon personal property, partial occupation, and
other grounds, and to substitute a bill lowering the borough
qualification. That conveyed to the house a totally inaccurate idea
of the amendment of Lord John Russell. There was not a single word in
that amendment about the working classes. There was not a single
phrase upon which that issue was raised, nor could it have been
raised, because our bill, whether it could have effected the object or
not, was a bill which proposed greatly to enfranchise the working
classes. And as regards the statement I made, it simply was this.
The election was over--we were still menaced, but we, still acting
according to our sense of duty, recommended in the royal speech that
the question of a reform of Parliament should be dealt with; because I
must be allowed to remind the house that whatever may have been our
errors, we proposed a bill which we intended to carry. And having
once taken up the question as a matter of duty, no doubt greatly
influenced by what we considered the unhappy mistakes of our
predecessors, and the difficult position in which they had placed
Parliament and the country, we determined not to leave the question
until it had been settled. But although still menaced, we felt it to
be our duty to recommend to her Majesty to introduce the question of
reform when the Parliament of 1859 met; and how were we, except in
that spirit of compromise which is the principal characteristic of our
political system, how could we introduce a Reform Bill after that
election, without in some degree considering the possibility of
lowering the borough franchise? But it was not a franchise of 6
pounds, but it was an arrangement that was to be taken with the rest
of the bill, and if it had been met in the same spirit we might have
retained our places. But, says the right honorable gentleman,
pursuing his history of the Reform question, when the government of
Lord Derby retired from office "we came in, and we were perfectly
sincere in our intentions to carry a Reform Bill; but we experienced
such opposition, and never was there such opposition. There was the
right honorable gentleman," meaning myself, "he absolutely allowed our
bill to be read a second time."
That tremendous reckless opposition to the right honorable
gentleman, which allowed the bill to be read a second time, seems to
have laid the government prostrate. If he had succeeded in throwing
out the bill, the right honorable gentleman and his friends would
have been relieved from great embarrassment. But the bill having
been read a second time, the government were quite overcome, and it
appears they never have recovered from the paralysis up to this
time. The right honorable gentleman was good enough to say that the
proposition of his government was rather coldly received upon his
side of the house, but he said "nobody spoke against it." Nobody
spoke against the bill on this side, but I remember some most
remarkable speeches from the right honorable gentleman's friends.
There was the great city of Edinburgh, represented by acute
eloquence of which we never weary, and which again upon the present
occasion we have heard; there was the great city of Bristol,
represented on that occasion among the opponents, and many other
constituencies of equal importance. But the most remarkable speech,
which "killed cock robin" was absolutely delivered by one who might
be described as almost a member of the government--the chairman of
ways and means [Mr. Massey], who, I believe, spoke from immediately
behind the prime minister. Did the government express any
disapprobation of such conduct? They have promoted him to a great
post, and have sent him to India with an income of fabulous amount.
And now they are astonished they cannot carry a Reform Bill. If
they removed all those among their supporters who oppose such bills
by preferring them to posts of great confidence and great lucre, how
can they suppose that they will ever carry one? Looking at the
policy of the government, I am not at all astonished at the speech
which the right honorable gentleman, the Secretary of State, has
made this evening. Of which speech I may observe, that although it
was remarkable for many things, yet there were two conclusions at
which the right honorable gentleman arrived. First, the repudiation
of the rights of man, and, next, the repudiation of the 6 pounds
franchise. The first is a great relief, and, remembering what the
feeling of the house was only a year ago, when, by the dangerous but
fascinating eloquence of the Chancellor of the Exchequer, we were
led to believe that the days of Tom Paine had returned, and that
Rousseau was to be rivaled by a new social contract, it must be a
great relief to every respectable man here to find that not only are
we not to have the rights of man, but we are not even to have the
1862 franchise. It is a matter, I think, of great congratulation,
and I am ready to give credit to the Secretary of State for the
honesty with which he has expressed himself, and I only wish we had
had the same frankness, the same honesty we always have, arising
from a clear view of his subject, in the first year of the
Parliament as we have had in the last. I will follow the example of
the right honorable gentleman and his friends. I have not changed
my opinions upon the subject of what is called Parliamentary Reform.
All that has occurred, all that I have observed, all the results of
my reflections, lead me to this more and more--that the principle
upon which the constituencies of this country should be increased is
one not of radical, but I may say of lateral reform--the extension
of the franchise, not its degradation. And although I do not wish
in any way to deny that we were in the most difficult position when
the Parliament of 1859 met, being anxious to assist the crown and
the Parliament by proposing some moderate measure which men on both
sides might support, we did, to a certain extent, agree to some
modification of the 10 pounds franchise--to what extent no one knows; but
I may say that it would have been one which would not at all have
affected the character of the franchise, such as I and my colleagues
wished to maintain. Yet I confess that my opinion is opposed, as it
originally was, to any course of the kind. I think that it would
fail in its object, that it would not secure the introduction of
that particular class which we all desire to introduce, but that it
would introduce many others who are totally unworthy of the
suffrage. But I think it is possible to increase the electoral body
of the country by the introduction of voters upon principles in
unison with the principles of the constitution, so that the suffrage
should remain a privilege, and not a right--a privilege to be
gained by virtue, by intelligence, by industry, by integrity, and to
be exercised for the common good of the country. I think if you
quit that ground--if you once admit that every man has a right to
vote whom you cannot prove to be disqualified--you would change
the character of the constitution, and you would change it in a
manner which will tend to lower the importance of this country.
Between the scheme we brought forward and the measure brought
forward by the honorable member for Leeds, and the inevitable
conclusion which its principal supporters acknowledge it must lead
to, it is a question between an aristocratic government in the
proper sense of the term--that is, a government by the best men of
all classes--and a democracy. I doubt very much whether a
democracy is a government that would suit this country; and it is
just as well that the house, when coming to a vote on this question,
should really consider if that be the real issue, between retaining
the present constitution--not the present constitutional body, but
between the present constitution and a democracy.
It is just as well for the house to recollect that what is at issue
is of some price. You must remember, not to use the word profanely,
that we are dealing really with a peculiar people. There is no
country at the present moment that exists under the circumstances
and under the same conditions as the people of this realm. You
have, for example, an ancient, powerful, richly-endowed Church, and
perfect religious liberty. You have unbroken order and complete
freedom. You have estates as large as the Romans; you have a
commercial system of enterprise such as Carthage and Venice united
never equaled. And you must remember that this peculiar country
with these strong contrasts is governed not by force; it is not
governed by standing armies--it is governed by a most singular
series of traditionary influences, which generation after generation
cherishes and preserves because they know that they embalm customs
and represent the law. And, with this, what have you done? You
have created the greatest empire that ever existed in modern times
You have amassed a capital of fabulous amount. You have devised and
sustained a system of credit still more marvelous and above all, you
have established and maintained a scheme, so vast and complicated,
of labor and industry, that the history of the world offers no
parallel to it. And all these mighty creations are out of all
proportion to the essential and indigenous elements and resources of
the country. If you destroy that state of society, remember this--
England cannot begin again. There are countries which have been in
great peril and gone through great suffering; there are the United
States, which in our own immediate day have had great trials; you
have had--perhaps even now in the States of America you have--a
protracted and fratricidal civil war which has lasted for four
years; but if it lasted for four years more, vast as would be the
disaster and desolation, when ended the United States might begin
again, because the United States would only be in the same condition
that England was at the end of the War of the Roses, and probably
she had not even 3,000,000 of population, with vast tracts of virgin
soil and mineral treasures, not only undeveloped but undiscovered.
Then you have France. France had a real revolution in our days and
those of our predecessors--a real revolution, not merely a
political and social revolution. You had the institutions of the
country uprooted, the orders of society abolished--you had even the
landmarks and local names removed and erased. But France could
begin again. France had the greatest spread of the most exuberant
soil in Europe; she had, and always had, a very limited population,
living in a most simple manner. France, therefore, could begin
again. But England--the England we know, the England we live in,
the England of which we are proud--could not begin again. I don't
mean to say that after great troubles England would become a howling
wilderness. No doubt the good sense of the people would to some
degree prevail, and some fragments of the national character would
survive; but it would not be the old England--the England of power
and tradition, of credit and capital, that now exists. That is not
in the nature of things, and, under these circumstances, I hope the
house will, when the question before us is one impeaching the
character of our constitution, sanction no step that has a
preference for democracy but that they will maintain the ordered
state of free England in which we live, I do not think that in this
country generally there is a desire at this moment for any further
change in this matter. I think the general opinion of the country
on the subject of Parliamentary Reform is that our views are not
sufficiently matured on either side. Certainly, so far as I can
judge I cannot refuse the conclusion that such is the condition of
honorable gentlemen opposite. We all know the paper circulated
among us before Parliament met, on which the speech of the honorable
member from Maidstone commented this evening. I quite sympathize
with him; it was one of the most interesting contributions to our
elegiac literature I have heard for some time. But is it in this
house only that we find these indications of the want of maturity in
our views upon this subject? Our tables are filled at this moment
with propositions of eminent members of the Liberal party--men
eminent for character or talent, and for both--and what are these
propositions? All devices to counteract the character of the
Liberal Reform Bill, to which they are opposed: therefore, it is
quite clear, when we read these propositions and speculations, that
the mind and intellect of the party have arrived at no conclusions
on the subject. I do not speak of honorable gentlemen with
disrespect; I treat them with the utmost respect; I am prepared to
give them the greatest consideration; but I ask whether these
publications are not proofs that the active intelligence of the
Liberal party is itself entirely at sea on the subject?
I may say there has been more consistency, more calmness, and
consideration on this subject on the part of gentlemen on this side
than on the part of those who seem to arrogate to themselves the
monopoly of treating this subject. I can, at least, in answer to
those who charge us with trifling with the subject, appeal to the
recollection of every candid man, and say that we treated it with
sincerity--we prepared our measure with care, and submitted it to
the house, trusting to its candid consideration--we spared no
pains in its preparation: and at this time I am bound to say,
speaking for my colleagues, in the main principles on which that
bill was founded--namely, the extension of the franchise, not its
degradation, will be found the only solution that will ultimately be
accepted by the country. Therefore, I cannot say that I look to
this question, or that those with whom I act look to it, with any
embarrassment. We feel we have done our duty; and it is not without
some gratification that I have listened to the candid admissions of
many honorable gentlemen who voted against it that they feel the
defeat of that measure by the liberal party was a great mistake. So
far as we are concerned, I repeat we, as a party, can look to
Parliamentary Reform not as an embarrassing subject; but that is no
reason why we should agree to the measure of the honorable member
for Leeds. It would reflect no credit on the House of Commons. It
is a mean device. I give all credit to the honorable member for Leeds
for his conscientious feeling; but it would be a mockery to take
this bill; from the failures of the government and the whole of the
circumstances that attended it, it is of that character that I think
the house will best do its duty to the country, and will best meet
the constituencies with a very good understanding, if they reject
the measure by a decided majority.
THE MEANING OF "CONSERVATISM" (Manchester, .April 3d, 1872)
_Gentlemen:_--
The chairman has correctly reminded you that this is not the first
time that my voice has been heard in this hall. But that was an
occasion very different from that which now assembles us together--
was nearly thirty years ago, when I endeavored to support and
stimulate the flagging energies of an institution in which I thought
there were the germs of future refinement and intellectual advantage
to the rising generation of Manchester, and since I have been here
on this occasion I have learned with much gratification that it is
now counted among your most flourishing institutions. There was also
another and more recent occasion when the gracious office fell to me
to distribute among the members of the Mechanics' Institution those
prizes which they had gained through their study in letters and in
science. Gentlemen, these were pleasing offices, and if life
consisted only of such offices you would not have to complain of
it. But life has its masculine duties, and we are assembled here to
fulfill some of the most important of these, when, as citizens of a
free country, we are assembled together to declare our determination
to maintain, to uphold the constitution to which we are debtors, in
our opinion, for our freedom and our welfare.
Gentlemen, there seems at first something incongruous that one
should be addressing the population of so influential and
intelligent a county as Lancashire who is not locally connected with
them, and, gentlemen, I will frankly admit that this circumstance
did for a long time make me hesitate in accepting your cordial and
generous invitation. But, gentlemen, after what occurred yesterday,
after receiving more than two hundred addresses from every part of
this great county, after the welcome which then greeted me, I feel
that I should not be doing justice to your feelings, I should not do
my duty to myself, if I any longer consider my presence here
to-night to be an act of presumption. Gentlemen, though it may not
be an act of presumption, it still is, I am told, an act of great
difficulty. Our opponents assure us that the Conservative party has
no political program; and, therefore, they must look with much
satisfaction to one whom you honor to-night by considering him the
leader and representative of your opinions when he comes forward, at
your invitation, to express to you what that program is. The
Conservative party are accused of having no program of policy. If by
a program is meant a plan to despoil churches and plunder landlords,
I admit we have no program. If by a program is meant a policy which
assails or menaces every institution and every interest, every class
and every calling in the country, I admit we have no program. But if
to have a policy with distinct ends, and these such as most deeply
interest the great body of the nation, be a becoming program for a
political party, then I contend we have an adequate program, and one
which, here or elsewhere, I shall always be prepared to assert and
to vindicate.
Gentlemen, the program of the Conservative party is to maintain the
constitution of the country. I have not come down to Manchester to
deliver an essay on the English constitution; but when the banner of
Republicanism is unfurled--when the fundamental principles of our
institutions are controverted--I think, perhaps, it may not be
inconvenient that I should make some few practical remarks upon the
character of our constitution upon that monarchy limited by the
co-ordinate authority of the estates of the realm, which, under the
title of Queen, Lords, and Commons, has contributed so greatly to
the prosperity of this country, and with the maintenance of which I
believe that prosperity is bound up.
Gentlemen, since the settlement of that constitution, now nearly two
centuries ago, England has never experienced a revolution, though
there is no country in which there has been so continuous and such
considerable change. How is this? Because the wisdom of your
forefathers placed the prize of supreme power without the sphere of
human passions. Whatever the struggle of parties, whatever the
strife of factions, whatever the excitement and exaltation of the
public mind, there has always been something in this country round
which all classes and parties could rally, representing the majesty
of the law, the administration of justice, and involving, at the
same time, the security for every man's rights and the fountain of
honor. Now, gentlemen, it is well clearly to comprehend what is
meant by a country not having a revolution for two centuries. It
means, for that space, the unbroken exercise and enjoyment of the
ingenuity of man. It means for that space the continuous application
of the discoveries of science to his comfort and convenience. It
means the accumulation of capital, the elevation of labor, the
establishment of those admirable factories which cover your
district; the unwearied improvement of the cultivation of the land,
which has extracted from a somewhat churlish soil harvests more
exuberant than those furnished by lands nearer to the sun. It means
the continuous order which is the only parent of personal liberty
and political right. And you owe all these, gentlemen, to the
throne.
There is another powerful and most beneficial influence which is
also exercised by the crown. Gentlemen, I am a party man. I believe
that, without party, parliamentary government is impossible. I look
upon parliamentary government as the noblest government in the
world, and certainly the one most suited to England. But without the
discipline of political connection, animated by the principle of
private honor, I feel certain that a popular assembly would sink
before the power or the corruption of a minister. Yet, gentlemen, I
am not blind to the faults of party government. It has one great
defect. Party has a tendency to warp the intelligence, and there is
no minister, however resolved he may be in treating a great public
question, who does not find some difficulty in emancipating himself
from the traditionary prejudice on which he has long acted. It is,
therefore, a great merit in our constitution, that before a minister
introduces a measure to Parliament, he must submit it to an
intelligence superior to all party, and entirely free from
influences of that character.
I know it will be said, gentlemen, that, however beautiful in
theory, the personal influence of the sovereign is now absorbed in
the responsibility of the minister. Gentlemen, I think you will
find there is great fallacy in this view. The principles of the
English constitution do not contemplate the absence of personal
influence on the part of the sovereign; and if they did, the
principles of human nature would prevent the fulfillment of such a
theory. Gentlemen, I need not tell you that I am now making on this
subject abstract observations of general application to our
institutions and our history. But take the case of a sovereign of
England, who accedes to his throne at the earliest age the law
permits, and who enjoys a long reign,--take an instance like that
of George III. From the earliest moment of his accession that
sovereign is placed in constant communication with the most able
statesmen of the period, and of all parties. Even with average
ability it is impossible not to perceive that such a sovereign must
soon attain a great mass of political information and political
experience. Information and experience, gentlemen, whether they are
possessed by a sovereign or by the humblest of his subjects, are
irresistible in life. No man with the vast responsibility that
devolves upon an English minister can afford to treat with
indifference a suggestion that has not occurred to him, or
information with which he had not been previously supplied. But,
gentlemen, pursue this view of the subject. The longer the reign,
the influence of that sovereign must proportionately increase. All
the illustrious statesmen who served his youth disappear. A new
generation of public servants rises up, there is a critical
conjunction in affairs--a moment of perplexity and peril. Then it
is that the sovereign can appeal to a similar state of affairs that
occurred perhaps thirty years before. When all are in doubt among
his servants, he can quote the advice that was given by the
illustrious men of his early years, and, though he may maintain
himself within the strictest limits of the constitution, who can
suppose, when such information and such suggestions are made by the
most exalted person in the country, that they can be without effect?
No, gentlemen; a minister who could venture to treat such influence
with indifference would not be a constitutional minister, but an
arrogant idiot.
Gentlemen, the influence of the crown is not confined merely to
political affairs. England is a domestic country. Here the home is
revered and the hearth is sacred. The nation is represented by a
family--the royal family; and if that family is educated with a
sense of responsibility and a sentiment of public duty, it is
difficult to exaggerate the salutary influence they may exercise
over a nation. It is not merely an influence upon manners; it is not
merely that they are a model for refinement and for good taste--
they affect the heart as well as the intelligence of the people; and
in the hour of public adversity, or in the anxious conjuncture of
public affairs, the nation rallies round the family and the throne,
and its spirit is animated and sustained by the expression of public
affection. Gentlemen, there is yet one other remark that I would
make upon our monarchy, though had it not been for recent
circumstances, I should have refrained from doing so. An attack has
recently been made upon the throne on account of the costliness of
the institution. Gentlemen, I shall not dwell upon the fact that if
the people of England appreciate the monarchy, as I believe they do,
it would be painful to them that their royal and representative
family should not be maintained with becoming dignity, or fill in
the public eye a position inferior to some of the nobles of the
land. Nor will I insist upon what is unquestionably the fact, that
the revenues of the crown estates, on which our sovereign might live
with as much right as the Duke of Bedford, or the Duke of
Northumberland, has to his estates, are now paid into the public
exchequer. All this, upon the present occasion, I am not going to
insist upon. What I now say is this: that there is no sovereignty of
any first-rate State which costs so little to the people as the
sovereignty of England. I will not compare our civil list with those
of European empires, because it is known that in amount they treble
and quadruple it; but I will compare it with the cost of sovereignty
in a republic, and that a republic with which you are intimately
acquainted--the republic of the United States of America.
Gentlemen, there is no analogy between the position of our sovereign,
Queen Victoria, and that of the President of the United States. The
President of the United States is not the sovereign of the United
States. There is a very near analogy between the position of the
President of the United States and that of the prime minister of
England, and both are paid at much the same rate--the income of a
second-class professional man. The sovereign of the United States is
the people; and I will now show you what the sovereignty of the United
States costs. Gentlemen, you are aware of the Constitution of the
United States. There are thirty-seven independent States, each with a
sovereign legislature. Besides these, there is a Confederation of
States, to conduct their external affairs, which consists of the House
of Representatives and a Senate. There are two hundred and
eighty-five members of the House of Representatives, and there are
seventy-four members of the Senate, making altogether three hundred
and fifty-nine members of Congress. Now each member of Congress
receives 1,000 pounds sterling per annum. In addition to this he
receives an allowance called "mileage," which varies according to the
distance which he travels, but the aggregate cost of which is about
30,000 pounds per annum. That makes 389,000 pounds, almost the
exact amount of our civil list.
But this, gentlemen, will allow you to make only a very imperfect
estimate of the cost of sovereignty in the United States. Every
member of every legislature in the thirty-seven States is also paid.
There are, I believe, five thousand and ten members of State
legislatures, who receive about $350 per annum each. As some of the
returns are imperfect, the average which I have given of expenditure
may be rather high, and therefore I have not counted the mileage,
which is also universally allowed. Five thousand and ten members of
State legislatures at $350 each make $1,753,500, or 350,700 pounds
sterling a year. So you see, gentlemen, that the immediate
expenditure for the sovereignty of the United States is between
700,000 and 800,000 pounds a year. Gentlemen, I have not time to
pursue this interesting theme, otherwise I could show that you have
still but imperfectly ascertained the cost of sovereignty in a
republic. But, gentlemen, I cannot resist giving you one further
illustration.
The government of this country is considerably carried on by the aid
of royal commissions. So great is the increase of public business
that it would be probably impossible for a minister to carry on
affairs without this assistance. The Queen of England can command
for these objects the services of the most experienced statesmen,
and men of the highest position in society. If necessary, she can
summon to them distinguished scholars or men most celebrated in
science and in arts; and she receives from them services that are
unpaid. They are only too proud to be described in the commission
as her Majesty's "trusty councilors"; and if any member of these
commissions performs some transcendent services, both of thought and
of labor, he is munificently rewarded by a public distinction
conferred upon him by the fountain of honor. Gentlemen, the
government of the United States, has, I believe, not less availed
itself of the services of commissions than the government of the
United Kingdom; but in a country where there is no fountain of
honor, every member of these commissions is paid.
Gentlemen, I trust I have now made some suggestions to you
respecting the monarchy of England which at least may be so far
serviceable that when we are separated they may not be altogether
without advantage; and now, gentlemen, I would say something on the
subject of the House of Lords. It is not merely the authority of
the throne that is now disputed, but the character and the influence
of the House of Lords that are held up by some to public disregard.
Gentlemen, I shall not stop for a moment to offer you any proofs of
the advantage of a second chamber; and for this reason. That
subject has been discussed now for a century, ever since the
establishment of the government of the United States, and all great
authorities, American, German, French, Italian, have agreed in this,
that a representative government is impossible without a second
chamber. And it has been, especially of late, maintained by great
political writers in all countries, that the repeated failure of
what is called the French republic is mainly to be ascribed to its
not having a second chamber.
But, gentlemen, however anxious foreign countries have been to enjoy
this advantage, that anxiety has only been equaled by the difficulty
which they have found in fulfilling their object. How is a second
chamber to be constituted? By nominees of the sovereign power?
What influence can be exercised by a chamber of nominees? Are they
to be bound by popular election? In what manner are they to be
elected? If by the same constituency as the popular body, what
claim have they, under such circumstances, to criticize or to
control the decisions of that body? If they are to be elected by a
more select body, qualified by a higher franchise, there immediately
occurs the objection, why should the majority be governed by the
minority? The United States of America were fortunate in finding a
solution of this difficulty; but the United States of America had
elements to deal with which never occurred before, and never
probably will occur again, because they formed their illustrious
Senate from materials that were offered them by the thirty-seven
States. We gentlemen, have the House of Lords, an assembly which
has historically developed and periodically adapted itself to the
wants and necessities of the times.
What, gentlemen, is the first quality which is required in a second
chamber? Without doubt, independence. What is the best foundation of
independence? Without doubt, property. The prime minister of England
has only recently told you, and I believe he spoke quite accurately,
that the average income of the members of the House of Lords is
20,000 pounds per annum. Of course there are some who have more,
and some who have less; but the influence of a public assembly, so far
as property is concerned, depends upon its aggregate property, which,
in the present case, is a revenue of 9,000,000 pounds a year. But,
gentlemen, you must look to the nature of this property. It is
visible property, and therefore it is responsible property, which
every rate-payer in the room knows to his cost. But, gentlemen, it is
not only visible property; it is, generally speaking, territorial
property; and one of the elements of territorial property is, that it
is representative. Now, for illustration, suppose--which God
forbid--there was no House of Commons, and any Englishman,--I will
take him from either end of the island,--a Cumberland, or a Cornish
man, finds himself aggrieved, the Cumbrian says: "This conduct I
experience is most unjust. I know a Cumberland man in the House of
Lords, the Earl of Carlisle or the Earl of Lonsdale; I will go to him;
he will never see a Cumberland man ill-treated." The Cornish man will
say: "I will go to the Lord of Port Eliot; his family have sacrificed
themselves before this for the liberties of Englishmen, and he will
get justice done me."
But, gentlemen, the charge against the House of Lords is that the
dignities are hereditary, and we are told that if we have a House of
Peers they should be peers for life. There are great authorities in
favor of this, and even my noble friend near me [Lord Derby], the
other day, gave in his adhesion to a limited application of this
principle. Now, gentlemen, in the first place, let me observe that
every peer is a peer for life, as he cannot be a peer after his
death; but some peers for life are succeeded in their dignities by
their children. The question arises, who is most responsible--a
peer for life whose dignities are not descendible, or a peer for
life whose dignities are hereditary? Now, gentlemen, a peer for
life is in a very strong position. He says: "Here I am; I have got
power and I will exercise it." I have no doubt that, on the whole,
a peer for life would exercise it for what he deemed was the public
good. Let us hope that. But, after all, he might and could
exercise it according to his own will. Nobody can call him to
account; he is independent of everybody. But a peer for life whose
dignities descend is in a very different position. He has every
inducement to study public opinion, and, when he believes it just,
to yield; because he naturally feels that if the order to which he
belongs is in constant collision with public opinion, the chances
are that his dignities will not descend to his posterity.
Therefore, gentlemen, I am not prepared myself to believe that a
solution of any difficulties in the public mind on this subject is
to be found by creating peers for life. I know there are some
philosophers who believe that the best substitute for the House of
Lords would be an assembly formed of ex-governors of colonies. I
have not sufficient experience on that subject to give a decided
opinion upon it. When the Muse of Comedy threw her frolic grace over
society, a retired governor was generally one of the characters in
every comedy; and the last of our great actors,--who, by the way,
was a great favorite at Manchester,--Mr. Farren, was celebrated for
his delineation of the character in question. Whether it be the
recollection of that performance or not, I confess I am inclined to
believe that an English gentleman--born to business, managing his
own estate, administering the affairs of his county, mixing with all
classes of his fellow-men, now in the hunting field, now in the
railway direction, unaffected, unostentatious, proud of his
ancestors, if they have contributed to the greatness of our common
country--is, on the whole, more likely to form a Senator agreeable
to English opinion and English taste than any substitute that has
yet been produced.
Gentlemen, let me make one observation more on the subject of the
House of Lords before I conclude. There is some advantage in
political experience. I remember the time when there was a similar
outcry against the House of Lords, but much more intense and
powerful; and, gentlemen, it arose from the same cause. A Liberal
government had been installed in office, with an immense Liberal
majority. They proposed some violent measures. The House of Lords
modified some, delayed others, and some they threw out. Instantly
there was a cry to abolish or to reform the House of Lords, and the
greatest popular orator [Daniel O'Connell] that probably ever
existed was sent on a pilgrimage over England to excite the people
in favor of this opinion. What happened? That happened, gentlemen,
which may happen to-morrow. There was a dissolution of Parliament.
The great Liberal majority vanished. The balance of parties was
restored. It was discovered that the House of Lords had behind them
at least half of the English people. We heard no more cries for
their abolition or their reform, and before two years more passed
England was really governed by the House of Lords, under the wise
influence of the Duke of Wellington and the commanding eloquence of
Lyndhurst; and such was the enthusiasm of the nation in favor of the
second chamber that at every public meeting its health was drunk,
with the additional sentiment, for which we are indebted to one of
the most distinguished members that ever represented the House of
Commons: "Thank God, there is the House of Lords."
Gentlemen, you will, perhaps, not be surprised that, having made
some remarks upon the monarchy and the House of Lords, I should say
something respecting that house in which I have literally passed the
greater part of my life, and to which I am devotedly attached. It
is not likely, therefore, that I should say anything to depreciate
the legitimate position and influence of the House of Commons.
Gentlemen, it is said that the diminished power of the throne and
the assailed authority of the House of Lords are owing to the
increased power of the House of Commons, and the new position which
of late years, and especially during the last forty years, it has
assumed in the English constitution. Gentlemen, the main power of
the House of Commons depends upon its command over the public purse,
and its control of the public expenditure; and if that power is
possessed by a party which has a large majority in the House of
Commons, the influence of the House of Commons is proportionately
increased, and, under some circumstances, becomes more predominant.
But, gentlemen, this power of the House of Commons is not a power
which has been created by any reform act, from the days of Lord
Grey, in 1832, to 1867. It is the power which the House of Commons
has enjoyed for centuries, which it has frequently asserted and
sometimes even tyrannically exercised. Gentlemen, the House of
Commons represents the constituencies of England, and I am here to
show you that no addition to the elements of that constituency has
placed the House of Commons in a different position with regard to
the throne and the House of Lords from that it has always
constitutionally occupied.
Gentlemen, we speak now on this subject with great advantage. We
recently have had published authentic documents upon this matter
which are highly instructive. We have, for example, just published
the census of Great Britain, and we are now in possession of the
last registration of voters for the United Kingdom. Gentlemen, it
appears that by the census the population at this time is about
32,000,000. It is shown by the last registration that, after making
the usual deductions for deaths, removals, double entries, and so
on, the constituency of the United Kingdom may be placed at
2,200,000. So, gentlemen, it at once appears that there are
30,000,000 people in this country who are as much represented by the
House of Lords as by the House of Commons, and who, for the
protection of their rights, must depend upon them and the majesty of
the throne. And now, gentlemen, I will tell you what was done by
the last reform act.
Lord Grey, in his measure of 1832, which was no doubt a
statesmanlike measure, committed a great, and for a time it appeared
an irretrievable, error. By that measure he fortified the
legitimate influence of the aristocracy, and accorded to the middle
classes great and salutary franchises; but he not only made no
provision for the representation of the working classes in the
constitution, but he absolutely abolished those ancient franchises
which the working classes had peculiarly enjoyed and exercised from
time immemorial. Gentlemen, that was the origin of Chartism, and of
that electoral uneasiness which existed in this country more or less
for thirty years.
The Liberal party, I feel it my duty to say, had not acted fairly by
this question. In their adversity they held out hopes to the
working classes, but when they had a strong government they laughed
their vows to scorn. In 1848 there was a French revolution, and a
republic was established. No one can have forgotten what the effect
was in this country. I remember the day when not a woman could
leave her house in London, and when cannon were planted on
Westminster Bridge. When Lord Derby became prime minister affairs
had arrived at such a point that it was of the first moment that the
question should be sincerely dealt with. He had to encounter great
difficulties, but he accomplished his purpose with the support of a
united party. And gentlemen, what has been the result? A year ago
there was another revolution in France, and a republic was again
established of the most menacing character. What happened in this
country? You could not get half a dozen men to assemble in a street
and grumble. Why? Because the people had got what they wanted.
They were content, and they were grateful.
But, gentlemen, the constitution of England is not merely a
constitution in State, it is a constitution in Church and State. The
wisest sovereigns and statesmen have ever been anxious to connect
authority with religion--some to increase their power, some,
perhaps, to mitigate its exercise. But the same difficulty has been
experienced in effecting this union which has been experienced in
forming a second chamber--either the spiritual power has usurped
upon the civil, and established a sacerdotal society, or the civil
power has invaded successfully the rights of the spiritual, and the
ministers of religion have been degraded into stipendiaries of the
state and instruments of the government. In England we accomplish
this great result by an alliance between Church and State, between
two originally independent powers. I will not go into the history of
that alliance, which is rather a question for those archaeological
societies which occasionally amuse and instruct the people of this
city. Enough for me that this union was made and has contributed for
centuries to the civilization of this country. Gentlemen, there is
the same assault against the Church of England and the union between
the State and the Church as there is against the monarchy and
against the House of Lords. It is said that the existence of
nonconformity proves that the Church is a failure. I draw from these
premises an exactly contrary conclusion; and I maintain that to have
secured a national profession of faith with the unlimited enjoyment
of private judgment in matters spiritual, is the solution of the
most difficult problem, and one of the triumphs of civilization.
It is said that the existence of parties in the Church also proves
its incompetence. On that matter, too, I entertain a contrary
opinion. Parties have always existed in the Church; and some have
appealed to them as arguments in favor of its divine institution,
because, in the services and doctrines of the Church have been found
representatives of every mood in the human mind. Those who are
influenced by ceremonies find consolation in forms which secure to
them the beauty of holiness. Those who are not satisfied except
with enthusiasm find in its ministrations the exaltation they
require, while others who believe that the "anchor of faith" can
never be safely moored except in the dry sands of reason find a
religion within the pale of the Church which can boast of its
irrefragable logic and its irresistible evidence.
Gentlemen, I am inclined sometimes to believe that those who
advocate the abolition of the union between Church and State have
not carefully considered the consequences of such a course. The
Church is a powerful corporation of many millions of her Majesty's
subjects, with a consummate organization and wealth which in its
aggregate is vast. Restricted and controlled by the State, so
powerful a corporation may be only fruitful of public advantage, but
it becomes a great question what might be the consequences of the
severance of the controlling tie between these two bodies. The State
would be enfeebled, but the Church would probably be strengthened.
Whether that is a result to be desired is a grave question for all
men. For my own part, I am bound to say that I doubt whether it
would be favorable to the cause of civil and religious liberty. I
know that there is a common idea that if the union between Church
and State was severed, the wealth of the Church would revert to the
State; but it would be well to remember that the great proportion of
ecclesiastical property is the property of individuals. Take, for
example, the fact that the great mass of Church patronage is
patronage in the hands of private persons. That you could not touch
without compensation to the patrons. You have established that
principle in your late Irish Bill, where there was very little
patronage. And in the present state of the public mind on the
subject, there is very little doubt that there would be scarcely a
patron in England--irrespective of other aid the Church would
receive--who would not dedicate his compensation to the spiritual
wants of his neighbors.
It was computed some years ago that the property of the Church in this
manner, if the union was terminated, would not be less than between
80,000,000 and 90,000,000 pounds, and since that period the amount
of private property dedicated to the purposes of the Church has very
largely increased. I therefore trust that when the occasion offers
for the country to speak out it will speak out in an unmistakable
manner on this subject; and recognizing the inestimable services of
the Church, that it will call upon the government to maintain its
union with the State. Upon this subject there is one remark I would
make. Nothing is more surprising to me than the plea on which the
present outcry is made against the Church of England. I could not
believe that in the nineteenth century the charge against the Church
of England should be that churchmen, and especially the clergy, had
educated the people. If I were to fix upon one circumstance more than
another which redounded to the honor of churchmen, it is that they
should fulfill this noble office; and, next to being "the stewards of
divine mysteries," I think the greatest distinction of the clergy is
the admirable manner in which they have devoted their lives and their
fortunes to this greatest of national objects.
Gentlemen, you are well acquainted in this city with this
controversy. It was in this city--I don't know whether it was not
in this hall--that that remarkable meeting was held of the
Nonconformists to effect important alterations in the Education Act,
and you are acquainted with the discussion in Parliament which arose
in consequence of that meeting. Gentlemen, I have due and great
respect for the Nonconformist body. I acknowledge their services to
their country, and though I believe that the political reasons which
mainly called them into existence have entirely ceased, it is
impossible not to treat with consideration a body which has been
eminent for its conscience, its learning, and its patriotism; but I
must express my mortification that, from a feeling of envy or of
pique, the Nonconformist body, rather than assist the Church in its
great enterprise, should absolutely have become the partisans of a
merely secular education. I believe myself, gentlemen, that without
the recognition of a superintending Providence in the affairs of
this world all national education will be disastrous, and I feel
confident that it is impossible to stop at that mere recognition.
Religious education is demanded by the nation generally and by the
instincts of human nature. I should like to see the Church and the
Nonconformists work together; but I trust, whatever may be the
result, the country will stand by the Church in its efforts to
maintain the religious education of the people. Gentlemen, I
foresee yet trials for the Church of England; but I am confident in
its future. I am confident in its future because I believe there is
now a very general feeling that to be national it must be
comprehensive. I will not use the word "broad," because it is an
epithet applied to a system with which I have no sympathy. But I
would wish churchmen, and especially the clergy, always to remember
that in our "Father's home there are many mansions," and I believe
that comprehensive spirit is perfectly consistent with the
maintenance of formularies and the belief in dogmas without which I
hold no practical religion can exist.
Gentlemen, I have now endeavored to express to you my general views
upon the most important subjects that can interest Englishmen. They
are subjects upon which, in my mind, a man should speak with
frankness and clearness to his countrymen, and although I do not
come down here to make a party speech, I am bound to say that the
manner in which those subjects are treated by the leading subject of
this realm is to me most unsatisfactory. Although the prime minister
of England is always writing letters and making speeches, and
particularly on these topics, he seems to me ever to send forth an
"uncertain sound." If a member of Parliament announces himself a
Republican, Mr. Gladstone takes the earliest opportunity of
describing him as a "fellow-worker" in public life. If an
inconsiderate multitude calls for the abolition or reform of the
House of Lords, Mr. Gladstone says that it is no easy task, and that
he must think once or twice, or perhaps even thrice, before he can
undertake it. If your neighbor, the member for Bradford, Mr. Miall,
brings forward a motion in the House of Commons for the severance of
Church and State, Mr. Gladstone assures Mr. Miall with the utmost
courtesy that he believes the opinion of the House of Commons is
against him, but that if Mr. Miall wishes to influence the House of
Commons he must address the people out of doors; whereupon Mr. Miall
immediately calls a public meeting, and alleges as its cause the
advice he has just received from the prime minister.
But, gentlemen, after all, the test of political institutions is the
condition of the country whose fortunes they regulate; and I do not
mean to evade that test. You are the inhabitants of an island of no
colossal size; which, geographically speaking, was intended by
nature as the appendage of some continental empire--either of
Gauls and Franks on the other side of the Channel or of Teutons and
Scandinavians beyond the German Sea. Such indeed, and for a long
period, was your early history. You were invaded; you were pillaged
and you were conquered; yet amid all these disgraces and
vicissitudes there was gradually formed that English race which has
brought about a very different state of affairs. Instead of being
invaded, your land is proverbially the only "inviolate land"--"the
inviolate land of the sage and free." Instead of being plundered,
you have attracted to your shores all the capital of the world.
Instead of being conquered, your flag floats on many waters, and
your standard waves in either zone. It may be said that these
achievements are due to the race that inhabited the land, and not to
its institutions. Gentlemen, in political institutions are the
embodied experiences of a race. You have established a society of
classes which give vigor and variety to life. But no class
possesses a single exclusive privilege, and all are equal before the
law. You possess a real aristocracy, open to all who desire to
enter it. You have not merely a middle class, but a hierarchy of
middle classes, in which every degree of wealth, refinement,
industry, energy, and enterprise is duly represented.
And now, gentlemen, what is the condition of the great body of the
people? In the first place, gentlemen, they have for centuries been
in the full enjoyment of that which no other country in Europe has
ever completely attained--complete rights of personal freedom. In
the second place, there has been a gradual, and therefore a wise,
distribution on a large scale of political rights. Speaking with
reference to the industries of this great part of the country, I can
personally contrast it with the condition of the working classes
forty years ago. In that period they have attained two results--
the raising of their wages and the diminution of their toil.
Increased means and increased leisure are the two civilizers of man.
That the working classes of Lancashire and Yorkshire have proved not
unworthy of these boons may be easily maintained; but their progress
and elevation have been during this interval wonderfully aided and
assisted by three causes, which are not so distinctively
attributable to their own energies. The first is the revolution in
locomotion, which has opened the world to the working man, which has
enlarged the horizon of his experience, increased his knowledge of
nature and of art, and added immensely to the salutary recreation,
amusement, and pleasure of his existence. The second cause is the
cheap postage, the moral benefits of which cannot be exaggerated.
And the third is that unshackled press which has furnished him with
endless sources of instruction, information, and amusement.
Gentlemen, if you would permit me, I would now make an observation
upon another class of the laboring population. This is not a civic
assembly, although we meet in a city. That was for convenience, but
the invitation which I received was to meet the county and all the
boroughs of Lancashire; and I wish to make a few observations upon
the condition of the agricultural laborer. That is a subject which
now greatly attracts public attention. And, in the first place, to
prevent any misconception, I beg to express my opinion that an
agricultural laborer has as much right to combine for the bettering
of his condition as a manufacturing laborer or a worker in metals.
If the causes of his combination are natural--that is to say, if
they arise from his own feelings and from the necessities of his own
condition--the combination will end in results mutually beneficial
to employers and employed. If, on the other hand, it is factitious
and he is acted upon by extraneous influences and extraneous ideas,
the combination will produce, I fear, much loss and misery both to
employers and employed; and after a time he will find himself in a
similar, or in a worse, position.
Gentlemen, in my opinion, the farmers of England cannot, as a body,
afford to pay higher wages than they do, and those who will answer
me by saying that they must find their ability by the reduction of
rents are, I think, involving themselves with economic laws which
may prove too difficult for them to cope with. The profits of a
fanner are very moderate. The interest upon capital invested in
land is the smallest that any property furnishes. The farmer will
have his profits and the investor in land will have his interest,
even though they may be obtained at the cost of changing the mode of
the cultivation of the country. Gentlemen, I should deeply regret
to see the tillage of this country reduced, and a recurrence to
pasture take place. I should regret it principally on account of
the agricultural laborers themselves. Their new friends call them
Hodge, and describe them as a stolid race. I must say that, from my
experience of them, they are sufficiently shrewd and open to reason.
I would say to them with confidence, as the great Athenian said to
the Spartan who rudely assailed him: "Strike, but hear me."
First, a change in the cultivation of the soil of this country would
be very injurious to the laboring class; and second, I am of opinion
that that class instead of being stationary has made if not as much
progress as the manufacturing class, very considerable progress
during the last forty years. Many persons write and speak about the
agricultural laborer with not so perfect a knowledge of his
condition as is desirable. They treat him always as a human being
who in every part of the country finds himself in an identical
condition. Now, on the contrary, there is no class of laborers in
which there is greater variety of condition than that of the
agricultural laborers. It changes from north to south, from east to
west, and from county to county. It changes even in the same
county, where there is an alteration of soil and of configuration.
The hind in Northumberland is in a very different condition from the
famous Dorsetshire laborer; the tiller of the soil in Lincolnshire
is different from his fellow-agriculturalist in Sussex. What the
effect of manufactures is upon the agricultural districts in their
neighborhood it would be presumption in me to dwell upon; your own
experience must tell you whether the agricultural laborer in North
Lancashire, for example, has had no rise in wages and no diminution
in toil. Take the case of the Dorsetshire laborer--the whole of
the agricultural laborers on the southwestern coast of England for a
very long period worked only half the time of the laborers in other
parts of England, and received only half the wages. In the
experience of many, I dare say, who are here present, even thirty
years ago a Dorsetshire laborer never worked after three o'clock in
the day; and why? Because the whole of that part of England was
demoralized by smuggling. No one worked after three o'clock in the
day, for a very good reason--because he had to work at night. No
farmer allowed his team to be employed after three o'clock, because
he reserved his horses to take his illicit cargo at night and carry
it rapidly into the interior. Therefore, as the men were employed
and remunerated otherwise, they got into a habit of half work and
half play so far as the land was concerned, and when smuggling was
abolished--and it has only been abolished for thirty years--
these imperfect habits of labor continued, and do even now continue
to a great extent. That is the origin of the condition of the
agricultural laborer in the southwestern part of England.
But now gentlemen, I want to test the condition of the agricultural
laborer generally; and I will take a part of England with which I am
familiar, and can speak as to the accuracy of the facts--I mean
the group described as the south-midland counties. The conditions
of labor there are the same, or pretty nearly the same, throughout.
The group may be described as a strictly agricultural community, and
they embrace a population of probably a million and a half. Now, I
have no hesitation in saying that the improvement in their lot
during the last forty years has been progressive and is remarkable.
I attribute it to three causes. In the first place, the rise in
their money wages is no less than fifteen per cent. The second
great cause of their improvement is the almost total disappearance
of excessive and exhausting toil, from the general introduction of
machinery. I don't know whether I could get a couple of men who
could or, if they could, would thresh a load of wheat in my
neighborhood. The third great cause which has improved their
condition is the very general, not to say universal, institution of
allotment grounds. Now, gentlemen, when I find that this has been
the course of affairs in our very considerable and strictly
agricultural portion of the country, where there have been no
exceptional circumstances, like smuggling, to degrade and demoralize
the race, I cannot resist the conviction that the condition of the
agricultural laborers, instead of being stationary, as we are
constantly told by those not acquainted with them, has been one of
progressive improvement, and that in those counties--and they are
many--where the stimulating influence of a manufacturing
neighborhood acts upon the land, the general conclusion at which I
arrive is that the agricultural laborer has had his share in the
advance of national prosperity. Gentlemen, I am not here to
maintain that there is nothing to be done to increase the well-being
of the working classes of this country, generally speaking. There
is not a single class in the country which is not susceptible of
improvement; and that makes the life and animation of our society.
But in all we do we must remember, as my noble friend told them at
Liverpool, that much depends upon the working classes themselves;
and what I know of the working classes in Lancashire makes me sure
that they will respond to this appeal. Much, also, may be expected
from that sympathy between classes which is a distinctive feature of
the present day; and, in the last place, no inconsiderable results
may be obtained by judicious and prudent legislation. But,
gentlemen, in attempting to legislate upon social matters, the great
object is to be practical--to have before us some distinct aims
and some distinct means by which they can be accomplished.
Gentlemen, I think public attention as regards these matters ought
to be concentrated upon sanitary legislation. That is a wide
subject, and, if properly treated, comprises almost every
consideration which has a just claim upon legislative interference.
Pure air, pure water, the inspection of unhealthy habitations, the
adulteration of food,--these and many kindred matters may be
legitimately dealt with by the legislature; and I am bound to say
the legislature is not idle upon them; for we have at this time two
important measures before Parliament on the subject. One--by a late
colleague of mine, Sir Charles Adderley--is a large and
comprehensive measure, founded upon a sure basis, for it consolidates
all existing public acts, and improves them. A prejudice has been
raised against that proposal, by stating that it interferes with the
private acts of the great towns. I take this opportunity of
contradicting that. The bill of Sir Charles Adderley does not touch
the acts of the great towns. It only allows them, if they think
fit, to avail themselves of its new provisions.
The other measure by the government is of a partial character. What
it comprises is good, so far as it goes, but it shrinks from that
bold consolidation of existing acts which I think one of the great
merits of Sir Charles Adderley's bill, which permits us to become
acquainted with how much may be done in favor of sanitary
improvement by existing provisions. Gentlemen, I cannot impress
upon you too strongly my conviction of the importance of the
legislature and society uniting together in favor of these important
results. A great scholar and a great wit, three hundred years ago,
said that, in his opinion, there was a great mistake in the Vulgate,
which, as you all know, is the Latin translation of the Holy
Scriptures, and that, instead of saying "Vanity of vanities, all is
vanity"--_Vanitas_ _vanitatum_, _omnia_ _vanitas_--the wise and
witty king really said:"_Sanitas_ _sanitatum_, _omnia_ _sanitas_."
Gentlemen, it is impossible to overrate the importance of the
subject. After all the first consideration of a minister should be
the health of the people. A land may be covered with historic
trophies, with museums of science and galleries of art, with
universities and with libraries; the people may be civilized and
ingenious; the country may be even famous in the annals and action
of the world, but, gentlemen, if the population every ten years
decreases, and the stature of the race every ten years diminishes,
the history of that country will soon be the history of the past.
Gentlemen, I said I had not come here to make a party speech. I
have addressed you upon subjects of grave, and I will venture to
believe of general, interest; but to be here and altogether silent
upon the present state of public affairs would not be respectful to
you, and, perhaps, on the whole, would be thought incongruous.
Gentlemen, I cannot pretend that our position either at home or
abroad is in my opinion satisfactory. At home, at a period of
immense prosperity, with a people contented and naturally loyal, we
find to our surprise the most extravagant doctrines professed and
the fundamental principles of our most valuable institutions
impugned, and that, too, by persons of some authority. Gentlemen,
this startling inconsistency is accounted for, in my mind, by the
circumstances under which the present administration was formed. It
is the first instance in my knowledge of a British administration
being avowedly formed on a principle of violence. It is unnecessary
for me to remind you of the circumstances which preceded the
formation of that government. You were the principal scene and
theatre of the development of statesmanship that then occurred. You
witnessed the incubation of the portentous birth. You remember when
you were informed that the policy to secure the prosperity of
Ireland and the content of Irishmen was a policy of sacrilege and
confiscation. Gentlemen, when Ireland was placed under the wise and
able administration of Lord Abercorn, Ireland was prosperous, and I
may say content. But there happened at that time a very peculiar
conjuncture in politics. The Civil War in America had just ceased;
and a band of military adventurers--Poles, Italians, and many
Irishmen--concocted in New York a conspiracy to invade Ireland,
with the belief that the whole country would rise to welcome them.
How that conspiracy was baffled--how those plots were confounded,
I need not now remind you. For that we were mainly indebted to the
eminent qualities of a great man who has just left us. You remember
how the constituencies were appealed to to vote against the
government which had made so unfit an appointment as that of Lord
Mayo to the vice-royalty of India. It was by his great qualities
when Secretary for Ireland, by his vigilance, his courage, his
patience, and his perseverance that this conspiracy was defeated.
Never was a minister better informed. He knew what was going on at
New York just as well as what was going on in the city of Dublin.
When the Fenian conspiracy had been entirely put down, it became
necessary to consider the policy which it was expedient to pursue in
Ireland; and it seemed to us at that time that what Ireland required
after all the excitement which it had experienced was a policy which
should largely develop its material resources. There were one or two
subjects of a different character, which, for the advantage of the
State, it would have been desirable to have settled, if that could
have been effected with a general concurrence of both the great
parties in that country. Had we remained in office, that would have
been done. But we were destined to quit it, and we quitted it
without a murmur. The policy of our successors was different. Their
specific was to despoil churches and plunder landlords, and what has
been the result? Sedition rampant, treason thinly veiled, and
whenever a vacancy occurs in the representation a candidate is
returned pledged to the disruption of the realm. Her Majesty's new
ministers proceeded in their career like a body of men under the
influence of some delirious drug. Not satiated with the spoliation
and anarchy of Ireland, they began to attack every institution and
every interest, every class and calling in the country. It is
curious to observe their course. They took into hand the army. What
have they done? I will not comment on what they have done. I will
historically state it, and leave you to draw the inference. So long
as constitutional England has existed there has been a jealousy
among all classes against the existence of a standing army. As our
empire expanded, and the existence of a large body of disciplined
troops became a necessity, every precaution was taken to prevent the
danger to our liberties which a standing army involved.
It was a first principle not to concentrate in the island any
overwhelming number of troops, and a considerable portion was
distributed in the colonies. Care was taken that the troops
generally should be officered by a class of men deeply interested in
the property and the liberties of England. So extreme was the
jealousy that the relations between that once constitutional force,
the militia, and the sovereign were rigidly guarded, and it was
carefully placed under local influences. All this is changed. We
have a standing army of large amount, quartered and brigaded and
encamped permanently in England, and fed by a considerable and
constantly increasing reserve.
It will in due time be officered by a class of men eminently
scientific, but with no relations necessarily with society; while
the militia is withdrawn from all local influences, and placed under
the immediate command of the Secretary of War. Thus, in the
nineteenth century, we have a large standing army established in
England, contrary to all the traditions of the land, and that by a
Liberal government, and with the warm acclamations of the Liberal
party.
Let us look what they have done with the Admiralty. You remember,
in this country especially, the denunciations of the profligate
expenditure of the Conservative government, and you have since had
an opportunity of comparing it with the gentler burden of Liberal
estimates. The navy was not merely an instance of profligate
expenditure, but of incompetent and inadequate management. A great
revolution was promised in its administration. A gentleman
[Mr. Childers], almost unknown to English politics, was strangely
preferred to one of the highest places in the councils of her
Majesty. He set to at his task with ruthless activity. The
Consulative Council, under which Nelson had gained all his
victories, was dissolved. The secretaryship of the Admiralty, an
office which exercised a complete supervision over every division of
that great department,--an office which was to the Admiralty what
the Secretary of State is to the kingdom,--which, in the qualities
which it required and the duties which it fulfilled, was rightly a
stepping-stone to the cabinet, as in the instances of Lord Halifax,
Lord Herbert, and many others,--was reduced to absolute
insignificance. Even the office of Control, which of all others
required a position of independence, and on which the safety of the
navy mainly depended, was deprived of all its important attributes.
For two years the opposition called the attention of Parliament to
these destructive changes, but Parliament and the nation were alike
insensible. Full of other business, they could not give a thought
to what they looked upon merely as captious criticism. It requires
a great disaster to command the attention of England; and when
the Captain was lost, and when they had the detail of the perilous
voyage of the Megara, then public indignation demanded a complete
change in this renovating administration of the navy.
And what has occurred? It is only a few weeks since that in the
House of Commons I heard the naval statement made by a new First
Lord [Mr. Goschen], and it consisted only of the rescinding of all
the revolutionary changes of his predecessor, the mischief of every
one of which during the last two years has been pressed upon the
attention of Parliament and the country by that constitutional and
necessary body, the Opposition. Gentlemen, it will not do for
me--considering the time I have already occupied, and there are
still some subjects of importance that must be touched--to dwell
upon any of the other similar topics, of which there is a rich
abundance. I doubt not there is in this hall more than one farmer
who has been alarmed by the suggestion that his agricultural
machinery should be taxed.
I doubt not there is in this hall more than one publican who
remembers that last year an act of Parliament was introduced to
denounce him as a "sinner." I doubt not there are in this hall a
widow and an orphan who remember the profligate proposition to
plunder their lonely heritage. But, gentlemen, as time advanced it
was not difficult to perceive that extravagance was being
substituted for energy by the government. The unnatural stimulus
was subsiding. Their paroxysms ended in prostration. Some took
refuge in melancholy, and their eminent chief alternated between a
menace and a sigh. As I sat opposite the treasury bench the
ministers reminded me of one of those marine landscapes not very
unusual on the coast of South America. You behold a range of
exhausted volcanoes. Not a flame flickers on a single pallid crest.
But the situation is still dangerous. There are occasional
earthquakes, and ever and anon the dark rumbling of the sea.
But, gentlemen, there is one other topic on which I must touch. If
the management of our domestic affairs has been founded upon a
principle of violence, that certainly cannot be alleged against the
management of our external relations. I know the difficulty of
addressing a body of Englishmen on these topics. The very phrase
"Foreign Affairs" makes an Englishman convinced that I am about to
treat of subjects with which be has no concern. Unhappily the
relations of England to the rest of the world, which are "Foreign
Affairs," are the matters which most influence his lot. Upon them
depends the increase or reduction of taxation. Upon them depends
the enjoyment or the embarrassment of his industry. And yet, though
so momentous are the consequences of the mismanagement of our
foreign relations, no one thinks of them till the mischief occurs
and then it is found how the most vital consequences have been
occasioned by mere inadvertence.
I will illustrate this point by two anecdotes. Since I have been in
public life there has been for this country a great calamity and
there is a great danger, and both might have been avoided. The
calamity was the Crimean War. You know what were the consequences
of the Crimean War: A great addition to your debt, an enormous
addition to your taxation, a cost more precious than your treasure
--the best blood of England. Half a million of men, I believe,
perished in that great undertaking. Nor are the evil consequences
of that war adequately described by what I have said. All the
disorders and disturbances of Europe, those immense armaments that
are an incubus on national industry and the great obstacle to
progressive civilization, may be traced and justly attributed to the
Crimean War. And yet the Crimean War need never have occurred.
When Lord Derby acceded to office, against his own wishes, in 1852,
the Liberal party most unconstitutionally forced him to dissolve
Parliament at a certain time by stopping the supplies, or at least
by limiting the period for which they were voted. There was not a
single reason to justify that course, for Lord Derby had only
accepted office, having once declined it, on the renewed application
of his sovereign. The country, at the dissolution, increased the
power of the Conservative party, but did not give to Lord Derby a
majority, and he had to retire from power. There was not the
slightest chance of a Crimean War when he retired from office; but
the Emperor of Russia, believing that the successor of Lord Derby
was no enemy to Russian aggression in the East, commenced those
proceedings, with the result of which you are familiar. I speak of
what I know, not of what I believe, but of what I have evidence in
my possession to prove--that the Crimean War never would have
happened if Lord Derby had remained in office.
The great danger is the present state of our relations with the
United States. When I acceded to office I did so, so far as
regarded the United States of America, with some advantage. During
the whole of the Civil War in America both my noble friend near me
and I had maintained a strict and fair neutrality. This was fully
appreciated by the government of the United States, and they
expressed their wish that with our aid the settlement of all
differences between the two governments should be accomplished.
They sent here a plenipotentiary, an honorable gentleman, very
intelligent and possessing general confidence. My noble friend near
me, with great ability, negotiated a treaty for the settlement of
all these claims. He was the first minister who proposed to refer
them to arbitration, and the treaty was signed by the American
government. It was signed, I think, on November 10th, on the eve of
the dissolution of Parliament. The borough elections that first
occurred proved what would be the fate of the ministry, and the
moment they were known in America the American government announced
that Mr. Reverdy Johnson, the American minister, had mistaken his
instructions, and they could not present the treaty to the Senate
for its sanction--the sanction of which there had been previously no
doubt. But the fact is that, as in the case of the Crimean War, it
was supposed that our successors would be favorable to Russian
aggression, so it was supposed that by the accession to office of
Mr. Gladstone and a gentleman you know well, Mr. Bright, the
American claims would be considered in a very different spirit. How
they have been considered is a subject which, no doubt, occupies
deeply the minds of the people of Lancashire. Now, gentlemen,
observe this--the question of the Black Sea involved in the
Crimean War, the question of the American claims involved in our
negotiations with Mr. Johnson, are the two questions that have again
turned up, and have been the two great questions that have been
under the management of his government.
How have they treated them? Prince Gortschakoff, thinking he saw an
opportunity, announced his determination to break from the Treaty of
Paris, and terminate all the conditions hostile to Russia which had
been the result of the Crimean War. What was the first movement on
the part of our government is at present a mystery. This we know,
that they selected the most rising diplomatist of the day and sent
him to Prince Bismarck with a declaration that the policy of Russia,
if persisted in, was war with England. Now, gentlemen, there was
not the slightest chance of Russia going to war with England, and no
necessity, as I shall always maintain, of England going to war with
Russia. I believe I am not wrong in stating that the Russian
government was prepared to withdraw from the position they had
rashly taken; but suddenly her Majesty's government, to use a
technical phrase, threw over the plenipotentiary, and, instead of
threatening war, if the Treaty of Paris were violated, agreed to
arrangements by which the violation of that treaty should be
sanctioned by England, and, in the form of a congress, showed
themselves guaranteeing their own humiliation. That Mr. Odo Russell
made no mistake is quite obvious, because he has since been selected
to be her Majesty's ambassador at the most important court of
Europe. Gentlemen, what will be the consequence of this
extraordinary weakness on the part of the British government it is
difficult to foresee. Already we hear that Sebastopol is to be
refortified, nor can any man doubt that the entire command of the
Black Sea will soon be in the possession of Russia. The time may
not be distant when we may hear of the Russian power in the Persian
Gulf, and what effect that may have upon the dominions of England
and upon those possessions on the productions of which you every
year more and more depend, are questions upon which it will be well
for you on proper occasions to meditate.
I come now to that question which most deeply interests you at this
moment, and that is our relations with the United States. I
approved the government referring this question to arbitration. It
was only following the policy of Lord Stanley. My noble friend
disapproved the negotiations being carried on at Washington. I
confess that I would willingly have persuaded myself that this was
not a mistake, but reflection has convinced me that my noble friend
was right. I remember the successful negotiation of the
Clayton-Bulwer treaty by Sir Henry Bulwer. I flattered myself that
treaties at Washington might be successfully negotiated; but I agree
with my noble friend that his general view was far more sound than
my own. But no one, when that commission was sent forth, for a
moment could anticipate the course of its conduct under the strict
injunctions of the government. We believed that commission was sent
to ascertain what points should be submitted to arbitration, to be
decided by the principles of the law of nations. We had not the
slightest idea that that commission was sent with power and
instructions to alter the law of nations itself. When that result
was announced, we expressed our entire disapprobation; and yet
trusting to the representations of the government that matters were
concluded satisfactorily, we had to decide whether it were wise, if
the great result was obtained, to wrangle upon points however
important, such as those to which I have referred.
Gentlemen, it appears that, though all parts of England were ready
to make those sacrifices, the two negotiating States--the
government of the United Kingdom and the government of the United
States--placed a different interpretation upon the treaty when the
time had arrived to put its provisions into practice. Gentlemen, in
my mind, and in the opinion of my noble friend near me, there was
but one course to take under the circumstances, painful as it might
be, and that was at once to appeal to the good feeling and good
sense of the United States, and, stating the difficulty, to invite
confidential conference whether it might not be removed. But her
Majesty's government took a different course. On December 15th her
Majesty's government were aware of a contrary interpretation being
placed on the Treaty of Washington by the American government. The
prime minister received a copy of their counter case, and he
confessed he had never read it. He had a considerable number of
copies sent to him to distribute among his colleagues, and you
remember, probably, the remarkable statement in which he informed
the house that he had distributed those copies to everybody except
those for whom they were intended.
Time went on, and the adverse interpretation of the American
government oozed out, and was noticed by the press. Public alarm
and public indignation were excited; and it was only seven weeks
afterward, on the very eve of the meeting of Parliament,--some
twenty-four hours before the meeting of Parliament,--that her
Majesty's government felt they were absolutely obliged to make a
"friendly communication" to the United States that they had arrived
at an interpretation of the treaty the reverse of that of the
American government. What was the position of the American
government? Seven weeks had passed without their having received
the slightest intimation from her Majesty's ministers. They had
circulated their case throughout the world. They had translated it
into every European language. It had been sent to every court and
cabinet, to every sovereign and prime minister. It was impossible
for the American government to recede from their position, even if
they had believed it to be an erroneous one. And then, to aggravate
the difficulty, the prime minister goes down to Parliament, declares
that there is only one interpretation to be placed on the treaty,
and defies and attacks everybody who believes it susceptible of
another.
Was there ever such a combination of negligence and blundering? And
now, gentlemen, what is about to happen? All we know is that her
Majesty's ministers are doing everything in their power to evade the
cognizance and criticism of Parliament. They have received an
answer to their "friendly communication"; of which, I believe, it
has been ascertained that the American government adhere to their
interpretation; and yet they prolong the controversy. What is about
to occur it is unnecessary for one to predict; but if it be this--
if after a fruitless ratiocination worthy of a schoolman, we
ultimately agree so far to the interpretation of the American
government as to submit the whole case to arbitration, with feeble
reservation of a protest, if it be decided against us, I venture to
say that we shall be entering on a course not more distinguished by
its feebleness than by its impending peril. There is before us
every prospect of the same incompetence that distinguished our
negotiations respecting the independence of the Black Sea; and I
fear that there is every chance that this incompetence will be
sealed by our ultimately acknowledging these direct claims of the
United States, which, both as regards principle and practical
results, are fraught with the utmost danger to this country.
Gentlemen, don't suppose, because I counsel firmness and decision at
the right moment, that I am of that school of statesmen who are
favorable to a turbulent and aggressive diplomacy. I have resisted
it during a great part of my life. I am not unaware that the
relations of England to Europe have undergone a vast change during
the century that has just elapsed. The relations of England to
Europe are not the same as they were in the days of Lord Chatham or
Frederick the Great. The Queen of England has become the sovereign
of the most powerful of Oriental States. On the other side of the
globe there are now establishments belonging to her, teeming with
wealth and population, which will, in due time, exercise their
influence over the distribution of power. The old establishments of
this country, now the United States of America, throw their
lengthening shades over the Atlantic, which mix with European
waters. These are vast and novel elements in the distribution of
power. I acknowledge that the policy of England with respect to
Europe should be policy of reserve, but proud reserve; and in
answer to those statesmen--those mistaken statesmen who have
intimated the decay of the power of England and the decline of its
resources, I express here my confident conviction that there never
was a moment in our history when the power of England was so great
and her resources so vast and inexhaustible.
And yet, gentlemen, it is not merely our fleets and armies, our
powerful artillery, our accumulated capital, and our unlimited
credit on which I so much depend, as upon that unbroken spirit of
her people, which I believe was never prouder of the imperial
country to which they belong. Gentlemen, it is to that spirit that I
above all things trust. I look upon the people of Lancashire as
fairly representative of the people of England. I think the manner
in which they have invited me here, locally a stranger, to receive
the expression of their cordial sympathy, and only because they
recognize some effort on my part to maintain the greatness of their
country, is evidence of the spirit of the land. I must express to
you again my deep sense of the generous manner in which you have
welcomed me, and in which you have permitted me to express to you my
views upon public affairs. Proud of your confidence, and encouraged
by your sympathy, I now deliver to you, as my last words, the cause
of the Tory party, of the English constitution, and of the British
empire.
THE VENERABLE BEDE (672-735)
The VENERABLE BEDE, "The father of English literature," was bora
about 672 in the county of Durham. The Anglo-Saxons, whose earliest
historian he was, had been converted by St. Austin and others by the
then not unusual process of preaching to the king until he was
persuaded to renounce heathenism both for himself and his
subjects. Bede, though born among a people not greatly addicted
either to religion or letters, became a remarkable preacher,
scholar, and thinker. Professionally a preacher, his sermons are
interesting, chiefly because they are the earliest specimens of
oratory extant from any Anglo-Saxon public speaker.
Best known as the author of the 'Ecclesiastical History of England,'
Bede was a most prolific writer. He left a very considerable
collection of sermons or homilies, many of which are still
extant. He also wrote on science, on poetic art, on medicine,
philosophy, and rhetoric, not to mention his hymns and his 'Book of
Epigrams in Heroic and Elegaic Verse'--all very interesting and some
of them valuable, as any one may see who will take the trouble to
read them in his simple and easily understood Latin. It is a pity,
however, that they are not adequately translated and published in a
shape which would make the father of English eloquence the first
English rhetorician, as he was the first English philosopher, poet,
and historian, more readily accessible to the general public.
Bede's sermons deal very largely in allegory, and though he may have
been literal in his celebrated suggestions of the horrors of hell--
which were certainly literally understood by his hearers--it is
pertinent to quote in connection with them his own assertion, that
"he who knows how to interpret allegorically will see that the inner
sense excels the simplicity of the letter as apples do leaves."
Bede's reputation spread not only through England but throughout
Western Europe and to Rome. Attempts were made to thrust honors on
him, but he refused them for fear they would prevent him from
learning. He taught in a monastery at Jarrow where at one time he
had six hundred monks and many strangers attending on his
discourses.
He died in 735, just as he had completed the first translation of
the Gospel of John ever made into any English dialect. The present
Anglo-Saxon version, generally in use among English students, is
supposed to include that version if not actually to present its
exact language. The King James version comes from Bede's in a direct
line of descent through Wycliff and Tyndale.
THE MEETING OF MERCY AND JUSTICE
There was a certain father of a family, a powerful king, who had
four daughters, of whom one was called Mercy, the second Truth, the
third Justice, the fourth Peace; of whom it is said, "Mercy and
Truth are met together; Justice and Peace have kissed each other."
He had also a certain most wise son, to whom no one could be
compared in wisdom. He had, also, a certain servant, whom he had
exalted and enriched with great honor: for he had made him after his
own likeness and similitude, and that without any preceding merit on
the servant's part. But the Lord, as is the custom with such wise
masters, wished prudently to explore, and to become acquainted with,
the character and the faith of his servant, whether he were
trustworthy towards himself or not; so he gave him an easy
commandment, and said, "If you do what I tell you, I will exalt you
to further honors; if not, you shall perish miserably."
The servant heard the commandment, and without any delay went and
broke it. Why need I say more? Why need I delay you by my words and
by my tears? This proud servant, stiff-necked, full of contumely,
and puffed up with conceit, sought an excuse for his transgression,
and retorted the whole fault on his Lord. For when he said, "the
woman whom thou gavest to be with me, she deceived me," he threw all
the fault on his Maker. His Lord, more angry for such contumelious
conduct than for the transgression of his command, called four most
cruel executioners, and commanded one of them to cast him into
prison, another to afflict him with grievous torments; the third to
strangle him, and the fourth to behead him. By and by, when occasion
offers, I will give you the right name of these tormentors.
These torturers, then, studying how they might carry out their own
cruelty, took the wretched man and began to afflict him with all
manner of punishments. But one of the daughters of the King, by
name Mercy, when she had heard of this punishment of the servant,
ran hastily to the prison, and looking in and seeing the man given
over to the tormentors, could not help having compassion upon him,
for it is the property of Mercy to have pity. She tore her garments
and struck her hands together, and let her hair fall loose about her
neck, and crying and shrieking, ran to her father, and kneeling
before his feet began to say with an earnest and sorrowful voice:
"My beloved father, am not I thy daughter Mercy? and art not thou
called merciful? If thou art merciful, have mercy upon thy servant;
and if thou wilt not have mercy upon him, thou canst not be called
merciful; and if thou art not merciful, thou canst not have me,
Mercy, for thy daughter." While she was thus arguing with her
father, her sister Truth came up, and demanded why it was that Mercy
was weeping. "Your sister Mercy," replied the father, "wishes me to
have pity upon that proud transgressor whose punishment I have
appointed." Truth, when she heard this, was excessively angry, and
looking sternly at her father, "Am not I," said she, "thy daughter
Truth? art not thou called true? Is it not true that thou didst
fix a punishment for him, and threaten him with death by torments?
If thou art true, thou wilt follow that which is true; if thou art
not true, thou canst not have me, Truth, for thy daughter." Here,
you see, Mercy and Truth are met together. The third sister,
namely, Justice, hearing this strife, contention, quarreling, and
pleading, and summoned by the outcry, began to inquire the cause
from Truth. And Truth, who could only speak that which was true,
said, "This sister of ours, Mercy, if she ought to be called a
sister who does not agree with us, desires that our father should
have pity on that proud transgressor." Then Justice, with an angry
countenance, and meditating on a grief which she had not expected,
said to her father, "Am not I thy daughter Justice? are thou not
called just? If thou art just, thou wilt exercise justice on the
transgressor; if thou dost not exercise that justice, thou canst not
be just; if thou art not just, thou canst not have me, Justice, for
thy daughter." So here were Truth and Justice on the one side, and
Mercy on the other. _Ultima_ _coelicolum_ _terras_ _Astrea_
_reliquit_; this means, that Peace fled into a far distant country.
For where there is strife and contention, there is no peace; and by
how much greater the contention, by so much further peace is driven
away.
Peace, therefore, being lost, and his three daughters in warm
discussion, the King found it an extremely difficult matter to
determine what he should do, or to which side he should lean.
For, if he gave ear to Mercy, he would offend Truth and Justice if
he gave ear to Truth and Justice, he could not have Mercy for his
daughter; and yet it was necessary that he should be both merciful
and just, and peaceful and true. There was great need then of good
advice. The father, therefore, called his wise son, and consulted
him about the affair. Said the son, "Give me my father, this present
business to manage, and I will both punish the transgressor for
thee, and will bring back to thee in peace thy four daughters."
"These are great promises," replied the father, "if the deed only
agrees with the word. If thou canst do that which thou sayest, I
will act as thou shalt exhort me."
Having, therefore, received the royal mandate, the son took his
sister Mercy along with him, and leaping upon the mountains, passing
over the hills, came to the prison, and looking through the windows,
looking through the lattice, he beheld the imprisoned servant, shut
out from the present life, devoured of affliction, and from the sole
of his foot even to the crown there was no soundness in him. He saw
him in the power of death, because through him death entered into
the world. He saw him devoured, because, when a man is once dead he
is eaten of worms. And because I now have the opportunity of
telling you, you shall hear the names of the four tormentors. The
first, who put him in prison, is the Prison of the Present Life, of
which it is said, "Woe is me that I am constrained to dwell in
Mesech"; the second, who tormented him, is the Misery of the World,
which besets us with all kinds of pain and wretchedness; the third,
who was putting him to death, conquered death, bound the strong man,
took his goods, and distributed the spoils; and ascending up on
high, led captivity captive and gave gifts for men, and brought back
the servant into his country, crowned with double honor, and endued
with a garment of immortality. When Mercy beheld this, she had no
grounds for complaint, Truth found no cause of discontent, because
her father was found true. The servant had paid all his penalties.
Justice in like manner complained not, because justice had been
executed on the transgressor; and thus he who had been lost was
found. Peace, therefore, when she saw her sisters at concord, came
back and united them. And now, behold, Mercy and Truth are met
together, Justice and Peace have kissed each other. Thus,
therefore, by the Mediator of man and angels, man was purified and
reconciled, and the hundredth sheep was brought back to the fold of
God. To which fold Jesus Christ brings us, to whom is honor and
power everlasting. Amen.
A SERMON FOR ANY DAY
Beloved brethren, it is time to pass from evil to good, from
darkness to light, from this most unfaithful world to everlasting
joys, lest that day take us unawares in which our Lord Jesus Christ
shall come to make the round world a desert, and to give over to
everlasting punishment sinners who would not repent of the sins
which they did. There is a great sin in lying, as saith Solomon,
"The lips which lie slay the soul. The wrath of man worketh not the
righteousness of God," no more doth his covetousness. Whence the
Apostle saith, "The love of money and pride are the root of all
evil." Pride, by which that apostate angel fell, who, as it is read
in the prophecy, "despised the beginning of the ways of God. How
art thou fallen from heaven!" We must avoid pride, which had power
to deceive angels; how much more will it have power to deceive men!
And we ought to fear envy, by which the devil deceived the first
man, as it is written, "Christ was crucified through envy,
therefore he that envieth his neighbor crucifieth Christ,"
See that ye always expect the advent of the Judge with fear and
trembling, lest he should find us unprepared; because the Apostle
saith, "My days shall come as a thief in the night." Woe to them
whom it shall find sleeping in sins, for "then," as we read in the
Gospel, "He shall gather all nations, and shall separate them one
from the other, as a shepherd divideth the sheep from the
goats. Then shall the King say unto them on his right hand, Come, ye
blessed of my Father," where there is no grief nor sorrow; where
there is no other sound but love, and peace, and everlasting
gladness with all the elect of God; where no good thing can be
wanting. Then shall the righteous answer and say, Lord, why hast
thou prepared such glory and such good things? He shall answer, for
mercy, for faith, for piety, and truth and the like. Lord, when
didst thou see these good things in us? The Lord shall answer,
"Verily, I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the
least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me, and what ye
did in secret, I will reward openly." Then shall the King say unto
them on his left hand, "Depart from me, ye cursed, into everlasting
fire, prepared for the devil and his angels, where shall be weepjng
and gnashing of teeth," and tears of eyes; where death is desired
and comes not; where the worm dieth not and the fire is not
quenched; where is no joy, but sorrow; where is no rest, except
pain; where nothing is heard but lamentations. Then they also shall
answer and say, Lord, why hast thou prepared such punishments for
us? For your iniquity and malignity, the Lord shall say.
Therefore, my brethren, I beseech you, that they who are in the
habits of good works would persevere in every good work; and that
they who are evil would amend themselves quickly, before sudden
death come upon them. While, therefore, we have time, let us do good
to all men, and let us leave off doing ill, that we may attain to
eternal life.
THE TORMENTS OF HELL
The Sunday is a chosen day, in which the angels rejoice. We must
ask who was the first to request that souls might (on Sunday) have
rest in hell; and the answer is that Paul the Apostle and Michael
the Archangel besought the Lord when they came back from hell; for
it was the Lord's will that Paul should see the punishments of that
place. He beheld trees all on fire, and sinners tormented on those
trees; and some were hung by the feet, some by the hands, some by
the hair, some by the neck, some by the tongue, and some by the arm.
And again, he saw a furnace of fire burning with seven flames, and
many were punished in it; and there were seven plagues round about
this furnace; the first, snow; the second, ice; the third, fire, the
fourth, blood; the fifth, serpents; the sixth, lightning; the
seventh, stench; and in that furnace itself were the souls of the
sinners who repented not in this life. There they are tormented,
and every one receiveth according to his works; some weep, some
howl, some groan; some burn and desire to have rest, but find it
not, because souls can never die. Truly we ought to fear that place
in which is everlasting dolor, in which is groaning, in which is
sadness without joy, in which are abundance of tears on account of
the tortures of souls; in which a fiery wheel is turned a thousand
times a day by an evil angel, and at each turn a thousand souls are
burnt upon it. After this he beheld a horrible river, in which were
many diabolic beasts, like fishes in the midst of the sea, which
devour the souls of sinners; and over that river there is a bridge,
across which righteous souls pass without dread, while the souls of
sinners suffer each one according to its merits.
There Paul beheld many souls of sinners plunged, some to the knees,
some to the loins, some to the mouth, some to the eyebrows; and
every day and eternally they are tormented. And Paul wept, and asked
who they were that were therein plunged to the knees. And the angel
said, These are detractors and evil speakers; and those up to the
loins are fornicators and adulterers, who returned not to
repentance; and those to the mouth are they who went to Church, but
they heard not the word of God; and those to the eyebrows are they
who rejoiced in the wickedness of their neighbor. And after this, he
saw between heaven and earth the soul of a sinner, howling betwixt
seven devils, that had on that day departed from the body. And the
angels cried out against it and said, Woe to thee, wretched soul!
What hast thou done upon earth? Thou hast despised the commandments
of God, and hast done no good works; and therefore thou shalt be
cast into outer darkness, where shall be weeping and gnashing of
teeth. And after this, in one moment, angels carried a soul from its
body to heaven; and Paul heard the voice of a thousand angels
rejoicing over it, and saying, O most happy and blessed soul!
rejoice to-day, because thou hast done the will of God. And they set
it in the presence of God. ... And the angel said, Whoso keepeth
the Sunday shall have his part with the angels of God. And Paul
demanded of the angel, how many kinds of punishment there were in
hell. And the angel said, there are a hundred and forty-four
thousand, and if there were a hundred eloquent men, each having four
iron tongues, that spoke from the beginning of the world, they could
not reckon up the torments of hell. But let us, beloved brethren,
hearing of these so great torments, be converted to our Lord that we
may be able to reign with the angels.
HENRY WARD BEECHER (1813-1887)
A very great orator must be a thoroughly representative man,
sensitive enough to be moved to the depths of his nature by the
master-passions of his time. Henry Ward Beecher was a very great
orator,--one of the greatest the country has produced,--and in his
speeches and orations inspired by the feelings which evolved the
Civil War and were themselves exaggerated by it to tenfold strength,
we feel all the volcanic forces which buried the primitive political
conditions of the United States deep under the ashes and lava of
their eruption. Words are feeble in the presence of the facts of
such a war. But what more could words do to suggest its meaning than
they do in Mr. Beecher's oration on the raising of the flag at Fort
Sumter, April 14th, 1865:--
"The soil has drunk blood and is glutted. Millions mourn for myriads
slain, or, envying the dead, pray for oblivion. Towns and villages
have been razed. Fruitful fields have been turned back to
wilderness. It came to pass as the prophet had said: 'The sun was
turned to darkness and the moon to blood.' The course of the law was
ended. The sword sat chief magistrate in half the nation; industry
was paralyzed; morals corrupted; the public weal invaded by rapine
and anarchy; whole States were ravaged by avenging armies. The world
was amazed. The earth reeled."
In such passages, Mr. Beecher has something of the force which
immortalized the "Voluspa." The "bardic inspiration," which moved
the early Norse poets to sing the bloody results of the "Berserker
fury," peculiar to the Teutonic and Norse peoples, seems to control
him as he recounts the dreadful features of the war and reminds the
vanquished of the meaning of defeat.
In considering the oratory inspired by the passions which found
their climax in the destructiveness of civil war,--and especially in
considering such magnificent outbursts as Mr. Beecher's oration at
Fort Sumter, intelligence will seek to free itself alike from
sympathy and from prejudice that it may the better judge the effect
of the general mind of the people on the orator, and the extent to
which that general mind as he voiced it, was influenced by the
strength of his individuality. If when we ourselves are moved by no
passion we judge with critical calmness the impassioned utterances
of the orators of any great epoch of disturbance, we can hardly fail
to be repelled by much that the critical faculties will reject as
exaggeration. But taking into account the environment, the
traditions, the public opinion, the various general or individual
impulses which influenced the oratory of one side or the other, we
can the better determine its true relation to the history of the
human intellect and that forward movement of the world which is but
a manifestation of the education of intellect.
Mr. Beecher had the temperament, the habits, the physique of the
orator. His ancestry, his intellectual training, his surroundings,
fitted him to be a prophet of the crusade against slavery. Of those
names which for a time were bruited everywhere as a result of the
struggles of the three decades from 1850 to 1880, a majority are
already becoming obscure, and in another generation most of the rest
will be "names only" to all who are not students of history as a
specialty. But the mind in Henry Ward Beecher was so representative;
he was so fully mastered by the forces which sent Sherman on his
march to the sea and Grant to his triumph at Appomattox, that he
will always be remembered as one of the greatest orators of the
Civil War period. Perhaps when the events of the war are so far
removed in point of time as to make a critical judgment really
possible, he may even rank as the greatest.
RAISING THE FLAG OVER FORT SUMTER (Delivered April 14th, 1865, by
request of President Lincoln)
On this solemn and joyful day we again lift to the breeze our
fathers' flag, now again the banner of the United States, with the
fervent prayer that God will crown it with honor, protect it from
treason, and send it down to our children, with all the blessings of
civilization, liberty, and religion. Terrible in battle, may it be
beneficent in peace. Happily, no bird or beast of prey has been
inscribed upon it. The stars that redeem the night from darkness,
and the beams of red light that beautify the morning, have been
united upon its folds. As long as the sun endures, or the stars,
may it wave over a nation neither enslaved nor enslaving! Once, and
but once, has treason dishonored it. In that insane hour when the
guiltiest and bloodiest rebellion of all time hurled their fires
upon this fort, you, sir [turning to General Anderson], and a small,
heroic band, stood within these now crumbled walls, and did gallant
and just battle for the honor and defense of the nation's banner.
In that cope of fire, that glorious flag still peacefully waved to
the breeze above your head unconscious of harm as the stars and
skies above it. Once it was shot down. A gallant hand, in whose
care this day it has been, plucked it from the ground, and reared it
again--"cast down, but not destroyed." After a vain resistance,
with trembling hand and sad heart, you withdrew it from its height,
closed its wings, and bore it far away, sternly to sleep amid the
tumults of rebellion, and the thunder of battle. The first act of
war had begun. The long night of four years had set in. While the
giddy traitors whirled in a maze of exhilaration, dim horrors were
already advancing, that were ere long to fill the land with blood.
To-day you are returned again. We devoutly join with you in
thanksgiving to Almighty God that he has spared your honored life,
and vouchsafed to you the glory of this day. The heavens over you
are the same, the same shores are here, morning comes, and evening,
as they did. All else, how changed! What grim batteries crowd the
burdened shores! What scenes have filled this air, and disturbed
these waters! These shattered heaps of shapeless stone are all that
is left of Fort Sumter. Desolation broods in yonder city--solemn
retribution hath avenged our dishonored banner! You have come back
with honor, who departed hence four years ago, leaving the air
sultry with fanaticism. The surging crowds that rolled up their
frenzied shouts as the flag came down, are dead, or scattered, or
silent, and their habitations are desolate. Ruin sits in the cradle
of treason. Rebellion has perished. But there flies the same flag
that was insulted. With starry eyes it looks over this bay for the
banner that supplanted it, and sees it not. You that then, for the
day, were humbled, are here again, to triumph once and forever. In
the storm of that assault this glorious ensign was often struck;
but, memorable fact, not one of its stars was torn out by shot or
shell. It was a prophecy. It said: "Not a State shall be struck
from this nation by treason!" The fulfillment is at hand. Lifted
to the air to-day, it proclaims that after four years of war, "Not a
State is blotted out." Hail to the flag of our fathers, and our
flag! Glory to the banner that has gone through four years black
with tempests of war, to pilot the nation back to peace without
dismemberment! And glory be to God, who, above all hosts and
banners, hath ordained victory, and shall ordain peace. Wherefore
have we come hither, pilgrims from distant places? Are we come to
exult that Northern hands are stronger than Southern? No; but to
rejoice that the hands of those who defend a just and beneficent
government are mightier than the hands that assaulted it. Do we
exult over fallen cities? We exult that a nation has not fallen.
We sorrow with the sorrowful. We sympathize with the desolate. We
look upon this shattered fort and yonder dilapidated city with sad
eyes, grieved that men should have committed such treason, and glad
that God hath set such a mark upon treason that all ages shall dread
and abhor it. We exult, not for a passion gratified, but for a
sentiment victorious; not for temper, but for conscience; not, as we
devoutly believe, that our will is done, but that God's will hath
been done. We should be unworthy of that liberty intrusted to our
care, if, on such a day as this, we sullied our hearts by feelings
of aimless vengeance; and equally unworthy if we did not devoutly
thank him who hath said: "Vengeance is mine, I will repay, saith the
Lord," that he hath set a mark upon arrogant rebellion, ineffaceable
while time lasts.
Since this flag went down on that dark day, who shall tell the
mighty woes that have made this land a spectacle to angels and men?
The soil has drunk blood and is glutted. Millions mourn for myriads
slain, or, envying the dead, pray for oblivion. Towns and villages
have been razed. Fruitful fields have been turned back to
wilderness. It came to pass, as the prophet said: "The sun was
turned to darkness and the moon to blood," The course of law was
ended. The sword sat chief magistrate in half the nation; industry
was paralyzed; morals corrupted; the public weal invaded by rapine
and anarchy; whole States ravaged by avenging armies. The world was
amazed. The earth reeled. When the flag sunk here, it was as if
political night had come, and all beasts of prey had come forth to
devour. That long night is ended. And for this returning day we
have come from afar to rejoice and give thanks. No more war. No
more accursed secession. No more slavery, that spawned them both.
Let no man misread the meaning of this unfolding flag! It says:
"Government has returned hither." It proclaims, in the name of
vindicated government, peace and protection to loyalty, humiliation
and pains to traitors. This is the flag of sovereignty. The
nation, not the States, is sovereign. Restored to authority, this
flag commands, not supplicates. There may be pardon, but no
concession. There may be amnesty and oblivion, but no honeyed
compromises. The nation to-day has peace for the peaceful, and war
for the turbulent. The only condition to submission is to submit!
There is the Constitution, there are the laws, there is the
government. They rise up like mountains of strength that shall not
be moved. They are the conditions of peace. One nation, under one
government, without slavery, has been ordained and shall stand.
There can be peace on no other basis. On this basis reconstruction
is easy, and needs neither architect nor engineer. Without this
basis no engineer nor architect shall ever reconstruct these
rebellious States. We do not want your cities or your fields. We
do not envy you your prolific soil, nor heavens full of perpetual
summer. Let agriculture revel here, let manufactures make every
stream twice musical, build fleets in every port, inspire the arts
of peace with genius second only to that of Athens, and we shall be
glad in your gladness, and rich in your wealth. All that we ask is
unswerving loyalty and universal liberty. And that, in the name of
this high sovereignty of the United States of America, we demand and
that, with the blessing of Almighty God, we will have! We raise our
fathers banner that it may bring back better blessings than those of
old; that it may cast out the devil of discord; that it may restore
lawful government, and a prosperity purer and more enduring than
that which it protected before; that it may win parted friends from
their alienation; that it may inspire hope, and inaugurate universal
liberty; that it may say to the sword, "Return to thy sheath"; and
to the plow and sickle, "Go forth"; that it may heal all jealousies,
unite all policies, inspire a new national life, compact our
strength, purify our principles, ennoble our national ambitions, and
make this people great and strong, not for agression and
quarrelsomeness, but for the peace of the world, giving to us the
glorious prerogative of leading all nations to juster laws, to more
humane policies, to sincerer friendship, to rational, instituted
civil liberty, and to universal Christian brotherhood. Reverently,
piously, in hopeful patriotism, we spread this banner on the sky, as
of old the bow was painted on the cloud and, with solemn fervor,
beseech God to look upon it, and make it a memorial of an
everlasting covenant and decree that never again on this fair land
shall a deluge of blood prevail. Why need any eye turn from this
spectacle? Are there not associations which, overleaping the recent
past, carry us back to times when, over North and South, this flag
was honored alike by all? In all our colonial days we were one, in
the long revolutionary struggle, and in the scores of prosperous
years succeeding, we were united. When the passage of the Stamp Act
in 1765 aroused the colonies, it was Gadsden, of South Carolina,
that cried, with prescient enthusiasm, "We stand on the broad common
ground of those natural rights that we all feel and know as men.
There ought to be no New England man, no New Yorker, known on this
continent, but all of us," said he, "Americans." That was the voice
of South Carolina. That shall be the voice of South Carolina.
Faint is the echo; but it is coming. We now hear it sighing sadly
through the pines; but it shall yet break in thunder upon the shore.
No North, no West, no South, but the United States of America.
There is scarcely a man born in the South who has lifted his hand
against this banner but had a father who would have died for it. Is
memory dead? Is there no historic pride? Has a fatal fury struck
blindness or hate into eyes that used to look kindly towards each
other, that read the same Bible, that hung over the historic pages
of our national glory, that studied the same Constitution? Let this
uplifting bring back all of the past that was good, but leave in
darkness all that was bad. It was never before so wholly unspotted;
so clear of all wrong, so purely and simply the sign of justice and
liberty. Did I say that we brought back the same banner that you
bore away, noble and heroic sir? It is not the same. It is more
and better than it was. The land is free from slavery since that
banner fell.
When God would prepare Moses for emancipation, he overthrew his
first steps and drove him for forty years to brood in the
wilderness. When our flag came down, four years it lay brooding in
darkness. It cried to the Lord, "Wherefore am I deposed?" Then
arose before it a vision of its sin. It had strengthened the
strong, and forgotten the weak. It proclaimed liberty, but trod
upon slaves. In that seclusion it dedicated itself to liberty.
Behold, to-day, it fulfills its vows! When it went down four
million people had no flag. To-day it rises, and four million
people cry out, "Behold our flag!" Hark! they murmur. It is the
Gospel that they recite in sacred words: "It is a Gospel to the
poor, it heals our broken hearts, it preaches deliverance to
captives, it gives sight to the blind, it sets at liberty them that
are bruised." Rise up then, glorious Gospel banner, and roll out
these messages of God. Tell the air that not a spot now sullies thy
whiteness. Thy red is not the blush of shame, but the flush of joy.
Tell the dews that wash thee that thou art as pure as they. Say to
the night that thy stars lead toward the morning; and to the
morning, that a brighter day arises with healing in its wings. And
then, O glowing flag, bid the sun pour light on all thy folds with
double brightness while thou art bearing round and round the world
the solemn joy--a race set free! a nation redeemed! The mighty
hand of government, made strong in war by the favor of the God of
Battles, spreads wide to-day the banner of liberty that went down in
darkness, that arose in light; and there it streams, like the sun
above it, neither parceled out nor monopolized, but flooding the air
with light for all mankind. Ye scattered and broken, ye wounded and
dying, bitten by the fiery serpents of oppression, everywhere, in
all the world, look upon this sign, lifted up, and live! And ye
homeless and houseless slaves, look, and ye are free! At length
you, too, have part and lot in this glorious ensign that broods with
impartial love over small and great, the poor and the strong, the
bond and the free. In this solemn hour, let us pray for the quick
coming of reconciliation and happiness under this common flag. But
we must build again, from the foundations, in all these now free
Southern States. No cheap exhortations "to forgetfulness of the
past, to restore all things as they were," will do. God does not
stretch out his hand, as he has for four dreadful years, that men
may easily forget the might of his terrible acts. Restore things as
they were! What, the alienations and jealousies, the discords and
contentions, and the causes of them? No. In that solemn sacrifice
on which a nation has offered for its sins so many precious victims,
loved and lamented, let our sins and mistakes be consumed utterly
and forever. No, never again shall things be restored as before the
war. It is written in God's decree of events fulfilled, "Old things
are passed away." That new earth, in which dwelleth righteousness,
draws near. Things as they were! Who has an omnipotent hand to
restore a million dead, slain in battle or wasted by sickness, or
dying of grief, broken-hearted? Who has omniscience to search for
the scattered ones? Who shall restore the lost to broken families?
Who shall bring back the squandered treasure, the years of industry
wasted, and convince you that four years of guilty rebellion and
cruel war are no more than dirt upon the hand, which a moment's
washing removes and leaves the hand clean as before? Such a war
reaches down to the very vitals of society. Emerging from such a
prolonged rebellion, he is blind who tells you that the State, by a
mere amnesty and benevolence of government, can be put again, by a
mere decree, in its old place. It would not be honest, it would not
be kind or fraternal, for me to pretend that Southern revolution
against the Union has not reacted, and wrought revolution in the
Southern States themselves, and inaugurated a new dispensation.
Society here is like a broken loom, and the piece which Rebellion
put in, and was weaving, has been cut, and every thread broken. You
must put in new warp and new woof, and weaving anew, as the fabric
slowly unwinds we shall see in it no Gorgon figures, no hideous
grotesques of the old barbarism, but the figures of liberty, vines,
and golden grains, framing in the heads of justice, love, and
liberty. The august convention of 1787 formed the Constitution with
this memorable preamble: "We, the people of the United States, in
order to form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure
domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defense, promote the
general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves
and our posterity, do ordain this Constitution for the United States
of America." Again, in the awful convention of war, the people of
the United States, for the very ends just recited, have debated,
settled, and ordained certain fundamental truths, which must
henceforth be accepted and obeyed. Nor is any State nor any
individual wise who shall disregard them. They are to civil affairs
what the natural laws are to health--indispensable conditions of
peace and happiness. What are the ordinances given by the people,
speaking out of fire and darkness of war, with authority inspired by
that same God who gave the law from Sinai amid thunders and trumpet
voices? 1. That these United States shall be one and indivisible.
2. That States have not absolute sovereignty, and have no right to
dismember the Republic. 3. That universal liberty is indispensable
to republican government, and that slavery shall be utterly and
forever abolished.
Such are the results of war! These are the best fruits of the war.
They are worth all they have cost. They are foundations of peace.
They will secure benefits to all nations as well as to ours. Our
highest wisdom and duty is to accept the facts as the decrees of
God. We are exhorted to forget all that has happened. Yes, the
wrath, the conflict, the cruelty, but not those overruling decrees
of God which this war has pronounced. As solemnly as on Mount
Sinai, God says, "Remember! remember!" Hear it to-day. Under this
sun, tinder that bright child of the sun, our banner, with the eyes
of this nation and of the world upon us, we repeat the syllables of
God's providence and recite the solemn decrees: No more Disunion!
No more Secession! No more Slavery! Why did this civil war begin?
We do not wonder that European statesmen failed to comprehend this
conflict, and that foreign philanthropists were shocked at a
murderous war that seemed to have no moral origin, but, like the
brutal fights of beasts of prey, to have sprung from ferocious
animalism. This great nation, filling all profitable latitudes,
cradled between two oceans, with inexhaustible resources, with
riches increasing in an unparalleled ratio, by agriculture, by
manufactures, by commerce, with schools and churches, with books and
newspapers thick as leaves in our own forests, with institutions
sprung from the people, and peculiarly adapted to their genius; a
nation not sluggish, but active, used to excitement, practiced in
political wisdom, and accustomed to self-government, and all its
vast outlying parts held together by the Federal government, mild in
temper, gentle in administration, and beneficent in results, seemed
to have been formed for peace. All at once, in this hemisphere of
happiness and hope, there came trooping clouds with fiery bolts,
full of death and desolation. At a cannon shot upon this fort, all
the nation, as if it had been a trained army lying on its arms,
awaiting a signal, rose up and began a war which, for awfulness,
rises into the front rank of bad eminence. The front of the battle,
going with the sun, was twelve hundred miles long; and the depth,
measured along a meridian, was a thousand miles. In this vast area
more than two million men, first and last, for four years, have, in
skirmish, fight, and battle, met in more than a thousand conflicts;
while a coast and river line, not less than four thousand miles in
length, has swarmed with fleets freighted with artillery. The very
industry of the country seemed to have been touched by some infernal
wand, and, with sudden wheel, changed its front from peace to war.
The anvils of the land beat like drums. As out of the ooze emerge
monsters, so from our mines and foundries uprose new and strange
machines of war, ironclad. And so, in a nation of peaceful habits,
without external provocation, there arose such a storm of war as
blackened the whole horizon and hemisphere. What wonder that
foreign observers stood amazed at this fanatical fury, that seemed
without Divine guidance, but inspired wholly with infernal frenzy.
The explosion was sudden, but the train had long been laid. We must
consider the condition of Southern society, if we would understand
the mystery of this iniquity. Society in the South resolves itself
into three divisions, more sharply distinguished than in any other
part of the nation. At the base is the laboring class, made up of
slaves. Next is the middle class, made up of traders, small
farmers, and poor men. The lower edge of this class touches the
slave, and the upper edge reaches up to the third and ruling class.
This class was a small minority in numbers, but in practical ability
they had centred in their hands the whole government of the South,
and had mainly governed the country. Upon this polished, cultured,
exceedingly capable, and wholly unprincipled class, rests the whole
burden of this war. Forced up by the bottom heat of slavery, the
ruling class in all the disloyal States arrogated to themselves a
superiority not compatible with republican equality, nor with just
morals. They claimed a right of pre-eminence. An evil prophet
arose who trained these wild and luxuriant shoots of ambition to the
shapely form of a political philosophy. By its reagents they
precipitated drudgery to the bottom of society, and left at the top
what they thought to be a clarified fluid. In their political
economy, labor was to be owned by capital; in their theory of
government, the few were to rule the many. They boldly avowed, not
the fact alone, that, under all forms of government, the few rule
the many, but their right and duty to do so. Set free from the
necessity of labor, they conceived a contempt for those who felt its
wholesome regimen. Believing themselves foreordained to supremacy,
they regarded the popular vote, when it failed to register their
wishes, as an intrusion and a nuisance. They were born in a garden,
and popular liberty, like freshets overswelling their banks, but
covered their dainty walks and flowers with slime and mud--of
democratic votes. When, with shrewd observation, they saw the
growth of the popular element in the Northern States, they
instinctively took in the inevitable events. It must be controlled
or cut off from a nation governed by gentlemen! Controlled, less
and less, could it be in every decade; and they prepared secretly,
earnestly, and with wide conference and mutual connivance, to
separate the South from the North. We are to distinguish between
the pretenses and means, and the real causes of this war. To
inflame and unite the great middle class of the South, who had no
interest in separation and no business with war, they alleged
grievances that never existed, and employed arguments which they,
better than all other men, knew to be specious and false.
Slavery itself was cared for only as an instrument of power or of
excitement. They had unalterably fixed their eye upon empire, and
all was good which would secure that, and bad which hindered it.
Thus, the ruling class of the South--an aristocracy as intense,
proud, and inflexible as ever existed--not limited either by
customs or institutions, not recognised and adjusted in the regular
order of society, playing a reciprocal part in its machinery, but
secret, disowning its own existence, baptized with ostentatious
names of democracy, obsequious to the people for the sake of
governing them; this nameless, lurking aristocracy, that ran in the
blood of society like a rash not yet come to the skin; this
political tapeworm, that produced nothing, but lay coiled in the
body, feeding on its nutriment, and holding the whole structure to
be but a servant set up to nourish it--this aristocracy of the
plantation, with firm and deliberate resolve, brought on the war,
that they might cut the land in two, and, clearing themselves from
an incorrigibly free society, set up a sterner, statelier empire,
where slaves worked that gentlemen might live at ease. Nor can
there be any doubt that though, at first, they meant to erect the
form of republican government, this was but a device, a step
necessary to the securing of that power by which they should be able
to change the whole economy of society. That they never dreamed of
such a war, we may well believe. That they would have accepted it,
though twice as bloody, if only thus they could rule, none can doubt
that knows the temper of these worst men of modern society. But
they miscalculated. They understood the people of the South; but
they were totally incapable of understanding the character of the
great working classes of the loyal States. That industry, which is
the foundation of independence, and so of equity, they stigmatized
as stupid drudgery, or as mean avarice. That general intelligence
and independence of thought which schools for the common people and
newspapers breed, they reviled as the incitement of unsettled zeal,
running easily into fanaticism. They more thoroughly misunderstood
the profound sentiment of loyality, the deep love of country, which
pervaded the common people. If those who knew them best had never
suspected the depth and power of that love of country which threw it
into an agony of grief when the flag was here humbled, how should
they conceive of it who were wholly disjoined from them in sympathy?
The whole land rose up, you remember, when the flag came down, as if
inspired unconsciously by the breath of the Almighty, and the power
of omnipotence. It was as when one pierces the banks of the
Mississippi for a rivulet, and the whole raging stream plunges
through with headlong course. There they calculated, and
miscalculated! And more than all, they miscalculated the bravery of
men who have been trained under law, who are civilized and hate
personal brawls, who are so protected by society as to have
dismissed all thought of self-defense, the whole force of whose life
is turned to peaceful pursuits. These arrogant conspirators against
government, with Chinese vanity, believed that they could blow away
these self-respecting citizens as chaff from the battlefield. Few
of them are left alive to ponder their mistake! Here, then, are the
roots of this civil war. It was not a quarrel of wild beasts, it
was an inflection of the strife of ages, between power and right,
between ambition and equity. An armed band of pestilent
conspirators sought the nation's life. Her children rose up and
fought at every door and room and hall, to thrust out the murderers
and save the house and household. It was not legitimately a war
between the common people of the North and South. The war was set
on by the ruling class, the aristocratic conspirators of the South.
They suborned the common people with lies, with sophistries, with
cruel deceits and slanders, to fight for secret objects which they
abhorred, and against interests as dear to them as their own lives,
I charge the whole guilt of this war upon the ambitious, educated,
plotting, political leaders of the South. They have shed this ocean
of blood. They have desolated the South. They have poured poverty
through all her towns and cities. They have bewildered the
imagination of the people with phantasms, and led them to believe
that they were fighting for their homes and liberty, whose homes
were unthreatened, and whose liberty was in no jeopardy. These
arrogant instigators of civil war have renewed the plagues of Egypt,
not that the oppressed might go free, but that the free might be
oppressed. A day will come when God will reveal judgment, and
arraign at his bar these mighty miscreants; and then, every orphan
that their bloody game has made, and every widow that sits
sorrowing, and every maimed and wounded sufferer, and every bereaved
heart in all the wide regions of this land, will rise up and come
before the Lord to lay upon these chief culprits of modern history
their awful witness. And from a thousand battlefields shall rise up
armies of airy witnesses, who, with the memory of their awful
sufferings, shall confront the miscreants with shrieks of fierce
accusation; and every pale and starved prisoner shall raise his
skinny hand in judgment. Blood shall call out for vengeance, and
tears shall plead for justice, and grief shall silently beckon, and
love, heart-smitten, shall wail for justice. Good men and angels
will cry out: "How long, O Lord, how long, wilt thou not avenge?"
And, then, these guiltiest and most remorseless traitors, these high
and cultured men,--with might and wisdom, used for the destruction
of their country,--the most accursed and detested of all criminals,
that have drenched a continent in needless blood, and moved the
foundations of their times with hideous crimes and cruelty, caught
up in black clouds, full of voices of vengeance and lurid with
punishment, shall be whirled aloft and plunged downwards forever and
forever in an endless retribution; while God shall say, "Thus shall
it be to all who betray their country"; and all in heaven and upon
the earth will say "Amen!"
But for the people misled, for the multitudes drafted and driven
into this civil war, let not a trace of animosity remain. The
moment their willing hand drops the musket, and they return to their
allegiance, then stretch out your own honest right hand to greet
them. Recall to them the old days of kindness. Our hearts wait for
their redemption. All the resources of a renovated nation shall be
applied to rebuild their prosperity, and smooth down the furrows of
war. Has this long and weary period of strife been an unmingled
evil? Has nothing been gained? Yes, much. This nation has
attained to its manhood. Among Indian customs is one which admits
young men to the rank of warriors only after severe trials of
hunger, fatigue, pain, endurance. They reach their station, not
through years, but ordeals. Our nation has suffered, but now is
strong. The sentiment of loyalty and patriotism, next in importance
to religion, has been rooted and grounded. We have something to be
proud of, and pride helps love. Never so much as now did we love
our country. But four such years of education in ideas, in the
knowledge of political truth, in the love of history, in the
geography of our own country, almost every inch of which we have
probed with the bayonet, have never passed before. There is half a
hundred years' advance in four. We believed in our institutions and
principles before; but now we know their power. It is one thing to
look upon artillery, and be sure that it is loaded; it is another
thing to prove its power in battle! We believe in the hidden power
stored in our institutions; we had never before seen this nation
thundering like Mount Sinai at all those that worshiped the calf at
the base of the mountain. A people educated and moral are competent
to all the exigencies of national life. A vote can govern better
than a crown. We have proved it. A people intelligent and
religious are strong in all economic elements. They are fitted for
peace and competent to war. They are not easily inflamed, and, when
justly incensed, not easily extinguished. They are patient in
adversity, endure cheerfully needful burdens, tax themselves to meet
real wants more royally than any prince would dare to tax his
people. They pour forth without stint relief for the sufferings of
war, and raise charity out of the realm of a dole into a munificent
duty of beneficence. The habit of industry among free men prepares
them to meet the exhaustion of war with increase of productiveness
commensurate with the need that exists. Their habits of skill
enable them at once to supply such armies as only freedom can
muster, with arms and munitions such as only free industry can
create. Free society is terrible in war, and afterwards repairs the
mischief of war with celerity almost as great as that with which the
ocean heals the seams gashed in it by the keel of ploughing ships.
Free society is fruitful of military genius. It comes when called;
when no longer needed, it falls back as waves do to the level of the
common sea, that no wave may be greater than the undivided water.
With proof of strength so great, yet in its infancy, we stand up
among the nations of the world, asking no privileges, asserting no
rights, but quietly assuming our place, and determined to be second
to none in the race of civilization and religion. Of all nations we
are the most dangerous and the least to be feared. We need not
expound the perils that wait upon enemies that assault us. They are
sufficiently understood! But we are not a dangerous people because
we are warlike. All the arrogant attitudes of this nation, so
offensive to foreign governments, were inspired by slavery, and
under the administration of its minions. Our tastes, our habits,
our interests, and our principles, incline us to the arts of peace.
This nation was founded by the common people for the common people.
We are seeking to embody in public economy more liberty, with higher
justice and virtue, than have been organized before. By the
necessity of our doctrines, we are put in sympathy with the masses
of men in all nations. It is not our business to subdue nations,
but to augment the powers of the common people. The vulgar ambition
of mere domination, as it belongs to universal human nature, may
tempt us; but it is withstood by the whole force of our principles,
our habits, our precedents, and our legends. We acknowledge the
obligation which our better political principles lay upon us, to set
an example more temperate, humane, and just, than monarchical
governments can. We will not suffer wrong, and still less will we
inflict it upon other nations. Nor are we concerned that so many,
ignorant of our conflict, for the present, misconceive the reasons
of our invincible military zeal. "Why contend," say they, "for a
little territory that you do not need?" Because it is ours!
Because it is the interest of every citizen to save it from becoming
a fortress and refuge of iniquity. This nation is our house, and
our fathers' house; and accursed be the man who will not defend it
to the uttermost. More territory than we need! England, that is
not large enough to be our pocket, may think that it is more than we
need, because it is more than it needs; but we are better judges of
what we need than others are.
Shall a philanthropist say to a banker, who defends himself against
a robber, "Why do you need so much money?" But we will not reason
with such questions. When any foreign nation willingly will divide
its territory and give it cheerfully away, we will answer the
question why we are fighting for territory! At present--for I pass
to the consideration of benefits that accrue to the South in
distinction from the rest of the nation--the South reaps only
suffering; but good seed lies buried under the furrows of war, that
peace will bring to harvest, 1. Deadly doctrines have been purged
away in blood. The subtle poison of secession was a perpetual
threat of revolution. The sword has ended that danger. That which
reason had affirmed as a philosophy, that people have settled as a
fact. Theory pronounces, "There can be no permanent government
where each integral particle has liberty to fly off." Who would
venture upon a voyage in a ship each plank and timber of which might
withdraw at its pleasure? But the people have reasoned by the logic
of the sword and of the ballot, and they have declared that States
are inseparable parts of the national government. They are not
sovereign. State rights remain; but sovereignty is a right higher
than all others; and that has been made into a common stock for the
benefit of all. All further agitation is ended. This element must
be cast out of political problems. Henceforth that poison will not
rankle in the blood. 2. Another thing has been learned: the rights
and duties of minorities. The people of the whole nation are of
more authority than the people of any section. These United States
are supreme over Northern, Western, and Southern States. It ought
not to have required the awful chastisement of this war to teach
that a minority must submit the control of the nation's government
to a majority. The army and navy have been good political
schoolmasters. The lesson is learned. Not for many generations
will it require further illustration. 3. No other lesson will be
more fruitful of peace than the dispersion of those conceits of
vanity, which, on either side, have clouded the recognition of the
manly courage of all Americans. If it be a sign of manhood to be
able to fight, then Americans are men. The North certainly is in no
doubt whatever of the soldierly qualities of Southern men. Southern
soldiers have learned that all latitudes breed courage on this
continent. Courage is a passport to respect. The people of all the
regions of this nation are likely hereafter to cherish a generous
admiration of each other's prowess. The war has bred respect, and
respect will breed affection, and affection peace and unity. 4. No
other event of the war can fill an intelligent Southern man, of
candid nature, with more surprise than the revelation of the
capacity, moral and military, of the black race. It is a revelation
indeed. No people were ever less understood by those most familiar
with them. They were said to be lazy, lying, impudent, and cowardly
wretches, driven by the whip alone to the tasks needful to their own
support and the functions of civilization. They were said to be
dangerous, bloodthirsty, liable to insurrection; but four years of
tumultuous distress and war have rolled across the area inhabited by
them, and I have yet to hear of one authentic instance of the
misconduct of a colored man. They have been patient and gentle and
docile, and full of faith and hope and piety; and, when summoned to
freedom, they have emerged with all the signs and tokens that
freedom will be to them what it was to us, the swaddling-band that
shall bring them to manhood. And after the government, honoring
them as men summoned them to the field, when once they were
disciplined, and had learned the arts of war, they have proved
themselves to be not second to their white brethren in arms. And
when the roll of men that have shed their blood is called in the
other land, many and many a dusky face will rise, dark no more when
the light of eternal glory shall shine upon it from the throne of
God! 5. The industry of the Southern States is regenerated, and now
rests upon a basis that never fails to bring prosperity. Just now
industry is collapsed; but it is not dead; it sleepeth. It is vital
yet. It will spring like mown grass from the roots that need but
showers and heat and time to bring them forth. Though in many
districts not a generation will see wanton wastes of self-invoked
war repaired, and many portions may lapse again to wilderness, yet,
in our lifetime, we shall see States, as a whole, raised to a
prosperity, vital, wholesome, and immovable, 6. The destruction of
class interests, working with a religion which tends toward true
democracy, in proportion as it is pure and free, will create a new
era of prosperity for the common laboring people of the South, Upon
them have come the labor, the toil, and the loss of this war. They
have fought blindfolded. They have fought for a class that sought
their degradation, while they were made to believe that it was for
their own homes and altars. Their leaders meant a supremacy which
would not long have left them political liberty, save in name. But
their leaders are swept away. The sword has been hungry for the
ruling classes. It has sought them out with remorseless zeal. New
men are to rise up; new ideas are to bud and blossom; and there will
be men with different ambition and altered policy. 7, Meanwhile,
the South, no longer a land of plantations, but of farms; no longer
tilled by slaves, but by freedmen, will find no hindrance to the
spread of education. Schools will multiply. Books and papers will
spread. Churches will bless every hamlet. There is a good day
coming for the South. Through darkness and tears and blood she has
sought it. It has been an unconscious _via_ _dolorosa_. But in the
end it will be worth all that it has cost. Her institutions before
were deadly. She nourished death in her bosom. The greater her
secular prosperity, the more sure was her ruin. Every year of delay
but made the change more terrible. Now, by an earthquake, the evil
is shaken down. And her own historians, in a better day, shall
write, that from the day the sword cut off the cancer, she began to
find her health. What, then, shall hinder the rebuilding of the
Republic? The evil spirit is cast out: why should not this nation
cease to wander among tombs, cutting itself? Why should it not
come, clothed and in its right mind, to "sit at the feet of Jesus"?
Is it feared that the government will oppress the conquered States?
What possible motive has the government to narrow the base of that
pyramid on which its own permanence depends? Is it feared that the
rights of the States will be withheld? The South is not more
jealous of State rights than the North. State rights from the
earliest colonial days have been the peculiar pride and jealousy of
New England. In every stage of national formation, it was
peculiarly Northern, and not Southern, statesmen that guarded State
rights as we were forming the Constitution. But once united, the
loyal States gave up forever that which had been delegated to the
national government. And now, in the hour of victory, the loyal
States do not mean to trench upon Southern State rights. They will
not do it, nor suffer it to be done. There is not to be one rule
for high latitudes and another for low. We take nothing from the
Southern States that has not already been taken from the Northern.
The South shall have just those rights that every eastern, every
middle, every western State has--no more, no less. We are not
seeking our own aggrandizement by impoverishing the South. Its
prosperity is an indispensable element of our own.
We have shown, by all that we have suffered in war, how great is our
estimate of the Southern States of this Union; and we will measure
that estimate, now, in peace, by still greater exertions for their
rebuilding. Will reflecting men not perceive, then, the wisdom of
accepting established facts, and, with alacrity of enterprise, begin
to retrieve the past? Slavery cannot come back. It is the interest,
therefore, of every man to hasten its end. Do you want more war? Are
you not yet weary of contest? Will you gather up the unexploded
fragments of this prodigious magazine of all mischief, and heap them
up for continued explosions? Does not the South need peace? And,
since free labor is inevitable, will you have it in its worst forms
or in its best? Shall it be ignorant, impertinent, indolent, or
shall it be educated, self-respecting, moral, and self-supporting?
Will you have men as drudges, or will you have them as citizens?
Since they have vindicated the government, and cemented its
foundation stones with their blood, may they not offer the tribute
of their support to maintain its laws and its policy? It is better
for religion; it is better for political integrity; it is better for
industry; it is better for money--if you will have that ground
motive--that you should educate the black man, and, by education,
make him a citizen. They who refuse education to the black man would
turn the South into a vast poorhouse, and labor into a pendulum,
incessantly vibrating between poverty and indolence. From this
pulpit of broken stone we speak forth our earnest greeting to all
our land. We offer to the President of these United States our
solemn congratulations that God has sustained his life and health
under the unparalleled burdens and sufferings of four bloody years,
and permitted him to behold this auspicious consummation of that
national unity for which he has waited with so much patience and
fortitude, and for which he has labored with such disinterested
wisdom. To the members of the government associated with him in the
administration of perilous affairs in critical times; to the
senators and representatives of the United States, who have eagerly
fashioned the instruments by which the popular will might express
and enforce itself, we tender our grateful thanks. To the officers
and men of the army and navy, who have so faithfully, skillfully,
and gloriously upheld their country's authority, by suffering,
labor, and sublime courage, we offer a heart-tribute beyond the
compass of words. Upon those true and faithful citizens, men and
women, who have borne up with unflinching hope in the darkest hour,
and covered the land with their labor of love and charity, we invoke
the divinest blessing of him whom they have so truly imitated. But
chiefly to thee, God of our fathers, we render thanksgiving and
praise for that wondrous Providence that has brought forth from such
a harvest of war the seed of so much liberty and peace! We invoke
peace upon the North. Peace be to the West! Peace be upon the South!
In the name of God we lift up our banner, and dedicate it to peace,
union, and liberty, now and for evermore! Amen.
EFFECT OF THE DEATH OF LINCOLN (Delivered in Brooklyn, April
16th. 1865)
Again a great leader of the people has passed through toil, sorrow,
battle, and war, and come near to the promised land of peace, into
which he might not pass over. Who shall recount our martyr's
sufferings for this people? Since the November of 1860, his horizon
has been black with storms. By day and by night, he trod a way of
danger and darkness. On his shoulders rested a government dearer to
him than his own life. At its integrity millions of men were striking
at home. Upon this government foreign eyes lowered. It stood like a
lone island in a sea full of storms, and every tide and wave seemed
eager to devour it. Upon thousands of hearts great sorrows and
anxieties have rested, but not on one such, and in such measure, as
upon that simple, truthful, noble soul, our faithful and sainted
Lincoln. Never rising to the enthusiasm of more impassioned natures
in hours of hope, and never sinking with the mercurial in hours of
defeat to the depths of despondency, he held on with unmovable
patience and fortitude, putting caution against hope, that it might
not be premature, and hope against caution, that it might not yield
to dread and danger. He wrestled ceaselessly, through four black and
dreadful purgatorial years, wherein God was cleansing the sin of his
people as by fire.
At last, the watcher beheld the gray dawn for the country. The
mountains began to give forth their forms from out the darkness, and
the East came rushing toward us with arms full of joy for all our
sorrows. Then it was for him to be glad exceedingly that had
sorrowed immeasurably. Peace could bring to no other heart such joy,
such rest, such honor, such trust, such gratitude. But he looked
upon it as Moses looked upon the promised land. Then the wail of a
nation proclaimed that he had gone from among us. Not thine the
sorrow, but ours, sainted soul. Thou hast, indeed, entered the
promised land, while we are yet on the march. To us remains the
rocking of the deep, the storm upon the land, days of duty and
nights of watching; but thou art sphered high above all darkness and
fear, beyond all sorrow and weariness. Rest, O weary heart! Rejoice
exceedingly, thou that hast enough suffered! Thou hast beheld him
who invisibly led thee in this great wilderness. Thou standest
among the elect. Around thee are the royal men that have ennobled
human life in every age. Kingly art thou, with glory on thy brow as
a diadem. And joy is upon thee for evermore. Over all this land,
over all the little cloud of years that now from thine infinite
horizon moves back as a speck, thou art lifted up as high as the
star is above the clouds that bide us, but never reach it. In the
goodly company of Mount Zion thou shalt find that rest which thou
hast sorrowing sought in vain; and thy name, an everlasting name in
heaven, shall flourish in fragrance and beauty as long as men shall
last upon the earth, or hearts remain, to revere truth, fidelity,
and goodness.
Never did two such orbs of experience meet in one hemisphere, as the
joy and the sorrow of the same week in this land. The joy was as
sudden as if no man had expected it, and as entrancing as if it had
fallen a sphere from heaven. It rose up over sobriety, and swept
business from its moorings, and ran down through the land in
irresistible course. Men embraced each other in brotherhood that
were strangers in the flesh. They sang, or prayed, or, deeper yet,
many could only think thanksgiving and weep gladness. That peace was
sure; that government was firmer than ever; that the land was
cleansed of plague; that the ages were opening to our footsteps, and
we were to begin a march of blessings; that blood was staunched, and
scowling enmities were sinking like storms beneath the horizon; that
the dear fatherland, nothing lost, much gained, was to rise up in
unexampled honor among the nations of the earth--these thoughts,
and that undistinguishable throng of fancies, and hopes, and
desires, and yearnings, that filled the soul with tremblings like
the heated air of midsummer days--all these kindled up such a
surge of joy as no words may describe.
In one hour joy lay without a pulse, without a gleam or breath. A
sorrow came that swept through the land as huge storms sweep through
the forest and field, rolling thunder along the sky, disheveling the
flowers, daunting every singer in thicket or forest, and pouring
blackness and darkness across the land and up the mountains. Did
ever so many hearts, in so brief a time, touch two such boundless
feelings? It was the uttermost of joy; it was the uttermost of
sorrow--noon and midnight, without a space between.
The blow brought not a sharp pang. It was so terrible that at first
it stunned sensibility. Citizens were like men awakened
at midnight by an earthquake and bewildered to find everything that
they were accustomed to trust wavering and falling. The very earth
was no longer solid. The first feeling was the least. Men waited to
get straight to feel. They wandered in the streets as if groping
after some impending dread, or undeveloped sorrow, or some one to
tell them what ailed them. They met each other as if each would ask
the other, "Am I awake, or do I dream?" There was a piteous
helplessness. Strong men bowed down and wept. Other and common
griefs belonged to some one in chief; this belonged to all. It was
each and every man's. Every virtuous household in the land felt as
if its firstborn were gone. Men were bereaved and walked for days as
if a corpse lay unburied in their dwellings. There was nothing else
to think of. They could speak of nothing but that; and yet of that
they could speak only falteringly. All business was laid
aside. Pleasure forgot to smile. The city for nearly a week ceased
to roar. The great Leviathan lay down, and was still. Even avarice
stood still, and greed was strangely moved to generous sympathy and
universal sorrow. Rear to his name monuments, found charitable
institutions, and write his name above their lintels; but no
monument will ever equal the universal, spontaneous, and sublime
sorrow that in a moment swept down lines and parties, and covered up
animosities, and in an hour brought a divided people into unity of
grief and indivisible fellowship of anguish. ...
This nation has dissolved--but in tears only. It stands
foursquare, more solid to-day than any pyramid in Egypt. This people
are neither wasted, nor daunted, nor disordered. Men hate slavery
and love liberty with stronger hate and love to-day than ever
before. The government is not weakened, it is made stronger. How
naturally and easily were the ranks closed! Another steps forward,
in the hour that the one fell, to take his place and his mantle; and
I avow my belief that he will be found a man true to every instinct
of liberty; true to the whole trust that is reposed in him; vigilant
of the Constitution; careful of the laws; wise for liberty, in that
he himself, through his life, has known what it was to suffer from
the stings of slavery, and to prize liberty from bitter personal
experiences.
Where could the head of government in any monarchy be smitten down
by the hand of an assassin, and the funds not quiver or fall
one-half of one per cent? After a long period of national
disturbance, after four years of drastic war, after tremendous
drafts on the resources of the country, in the height and top of our
burdens, the heart of this people is such that now, when the head of
government is stricken down, the public funds do not waver, but
stand as the granite ribs in our mountains.
Republican institutions have been vindicated in this experience as
they never were before; and the whole history of the last four
years, rounded up by this cruel stroke, seems, in the providence of
God, to have been clothed, now, with an illustration, with a
sympathy, with an aptness, and with a significance, such as we never
could have expected nor imagined. God, I think, has said, by the
voice of this event, to all nations of the earth, "Republican
liberty, based upon true Christianity, is firm as the foundation of
the globe."
Even he who now sleeps has, by this event, been clothed with new
influence. Dead, he speaks to men who now willingly hear what before
they refused to listen to. Now his simple and weighty words will be
gathered like those of Washington, and your children and your
children's children shall be taught to ponder the simplicity and
deep wisdom of utterances which, in their time, passed, in party
heat, as idle words. Men will receive a new impulse of patriotism
for his sake and will guard with zeal the whole country which he
loved so well. I swear you, on the altar of his memory, to be more
faithful to the country for which he has perished. They will, as
they follow his hearse, swear a new hatred to that slavery against
which he warred, and which, in vanquishing him, has made him a
martyr and a conqueror. I swear you, by the memory of this martyr,
to hate slavery with an unappeasable hatred. They will admire and
imitate the firmness of this man, his inflexible conscience for the
right, and yet his gentleness, as tender as a woman's, his
moderation of spirit, which not all the heat of party could inflame,
nor all the jars and disturbances of his country shake out of
place. I swear you to an emulation of his justice, his moderation,
and his mercy.
You I can comfort; but how can I speak to that twilight million to
whom his name was as the name of an angel of God? There will be
wailing in places which no minister shall be able to reach. When,
in hovel and in cot, in wood and in wilderness, in the field
throughout the South, the dusky children, who looked upon him as
that Moses whom God sent before them to lead them out of the land of
bondage, learn that he has fallen, who shall comfort them? O, thou
Shepherd of Israel, that didst comfort thy people of old, to thy
care we commit the helpless, the long-wronged, and grieved.
And now the martyr is moving in triumphal march, mightier than when
alive. The nation rises up at every stage of his coming. Cities and
States are his pallbearers, and the cannon beats the hours with
solemn progression. Dead, dead, dead, he yet speaketh. Is Washington
dead? Is Hampden dead? Is David dead? Is any man that ever was fit
to live dead? Disenthralled of flesh, and risen in the unobstructed
sphere where passion never comes, he begins his illimitable
work. His life now is grafted upon the infinite, and will be
fruitful as no earthly life can be. Pass on, thou that hast
overcome. Your sorrows, O people, are his peace. Your bells and
bands and muffled drums sound triumph in his ear. Wail and weep
here; God made it echo joy and triumph there. Pass on.
Four years ago, O Illinois, we took from your midst an untried man
and from among the people. We return him to you a mighty
conqueror. Not thine any more, but the nation's; not ours, but the
world's. Give him place, O ye prairies. In the midst of this great
continent his dust shall rest, a sacred treasure to myriads who
shall pilgrim to that shrine to kindle anew their zeal and
patriotism. Ye winds that move over the mighty places of the West,
chant his requiem. Ye people, behold a martyr whose blood, as so
many articulate words, pleads for fidelity, for law, for liberty.
LORD BELHAVEN (1656-1708)
Scotland ceased to exist as a nation by the act of union, May 1st,
1707. As occasions have been so rare in the world's history when a
nation has voluntarily abdicated its sovereignty and ceased to exist
by its own free act, it would be too much to say that Lord
Belhaven's speech against surrendering Scotch nationality was worthy
of so remarkable a scene as that presented in he Scotch Parliament
when, soon after its opening, November 1st, 1706, he rose to make the
protest which immortalized him.
Smollet belongs more properly to another generation, but the feeling
against the union was rather exaggerated than diminished between the
date of its adoption and that of his poem, 'The Tears of Scotland,'
into the concluding stanza of which he has condensed the passion
which prompted Belhaven's protest:--
"While the warm blood bedews my veins
And unimpaired remembrance reigns,
Resentment of my country's fate
Within my filial heart shall beat,
And spite of her insulting foe,
My sympathizing verse shall flow;--
'Mourn, helpless Caledonia, mourn,
Thy banished peace, thy laurels torn!'"
If there is nothing in Belhaven's oration which equals this in
intensity, there is power and pathos, as well as Ciceronian syntax,
in the period: "Hannibal, my lord, is at our gates; Hannibal is come
within our gates; Hannibal is come the length of this table; he is
at the foot of this throne; if we take not notice he'll seize upon
these regalia, he'll take them as our _spolia_ _opima_, and whip us
out of this house, never to return."
It is unfortunate for Belhaven's fame as an orator that his most
effective passages are based on classical allusions intelligible at
once to his audience then, but likely to appear pedantic in times
when Latin has ceased to be the "vulgar tongue" of the educated, as
it still was in the Scotland of Queen Anne's time.
The text of his speech here used is from 'The Parliamentary
Debates,' London 1741.
A PLEA FOR THE NATIONAL LIFE OF SCOTLAND (Delivered 1706 in the
Scotch Parliament)
My Lord Chancellor:--
When I consider the affair of a union betwixt the two nations, as it
is expressed in the several articles thereof, and now the subject of
our deliberation at this time I find my mind crowded with a variety
of melancholy thoughts, and I think it my duty to disburden myself
of some of them, by laying them before, and exposing them to, the
serious consideration of this honorable house.
I think I see a free and independent kingdom delivering up that
which all the world hath been fighting for since the days of Nimrod;
yea, that for which most of all the empires, kingdoms, states,
principalities, and dukedoms of Europe, are at this very time
engaged in the most bloody and cruel wars that ever were, to-wit, a
power to manage their own affairs by themselves, without the
assistance and counsel of any other.
I think I see a national church, founded upon a rock, secured by a
claim of right, hedged and fenced about by the strictest and most
pointed legal sanction that sovereignty could contrive, voluntarily
descending into a plain, upon an equal level with Jews, Papists,
Socinians, Arminians, Anabaptists, and other sectaries, etc. I think
I see the noble and honorable peerage of Scotland, whose valiant
predecessors led armies against their enemies, upon their own proper
charges and expenses, now divested of their followers and
vassalages, and put upon such an equal foot with their vassals, that
I think I see a petty English exciseman receive more homage and
respect than what was paid formerly to their quondam Mackallamores.
I think I see the present peers of Scotland, whose noble ancestors
conquered provinces, over-run countries, reduced and subjected towns
and fortified places, exacted tribute through the greatest part of
England, now walking in the court of requests like so many English
attorneys, laying aside their walking swords when in company with
the English peers, lest their self-defense should be found murder.
I think I see the honorable estate of barons, the bold assertors of
the nation's rights and liberties in the worst of times, now
setting a watch upon their lips and a guard upon their tongues,
lest they be found guilty of _scandalum_ _magnatum_.
I think I see the royal state of boroughs walking their desolate
streets, hanging down their heads under disappointments, wormed out
of all the branches of their old trade, uncertain what hand to turn
to, necessitate to become 'prentices to their unkind neighbors; and
yet, after all, finding their trade so fortified by companies, and
secured by prescriptions, that they despair of any success therein.
I think I see our learned judges laying aside their practiques and
decisions, studying the common law of England, graveled with
_certioraries_, _nisi_ _prius's_, writs of error, _verdicts_ _indovar_,
_ejectione_ _firmae_, injunctions, demurs, etc., and frighted with
appeals and avocations, because of the new regulations and
rectifications they may meet with.
I think I see the valiant and gallant soldiery either sent to learn
the plantation-trade abroad; or at home petitioning for a small
subsistence, as the reward of their honorable exploits; while their
old corps are broken, the common soldiers left to beg, and the
youngest English corps kept standing.
I think I see the honest, industrious tradesman loaded with new
taxes and impositions, disappointed of the equivalents, drinking
water in place of ale, eating his saltless pottage, petitioning for
encouragement to his manufactories, and answered by counter-petitions.
In short, I think I see the laborious plowman, with his corn
spoiling upon his hands, for want of sale, cursing the day of his
birth, dreading the expense of his burial, and uncertain whether to
marry or do worse.
I think I see the incurable difficulties of the landed men, fettered
under the golden chain of equivalents, their pretty daughters
petitioning for want of husbands, and their sons for want of
employment.
I think I see our mariners delivering up their ships to their Dutch
partners, and what through presses and necessity, earning their
bread as underlings in the royal English navy.
But above all, my lord, I think I see our ancient mother Caledonia,
like Caesar, sitting in the midst of our senate, ruefully looking
round about her, covering herself with her royal garment, attending
the fatal blow, and breathing out her last with an _Et_ _tu_
_quoque_, _mi_ _fili_.
Are not these, my lord, very afflicting thoughts? And yet they are
but the least part suggested to me by these dishonorable
articles. Should not the consideration of these things vivify these
dry bones of ours? Should not the memory of our noble predecessors'
valor and constancy rouse up our drooping spirits? Are our noble
predecessors' souls got so far into the English cabbage stock and
cauliflowers that we should show the least inclination that way? Are
our eyes so blinded? Are our ears so deafened? Are our hearts so
hardened? Are our tongues so faltered? Are our hands so fettered
that in this our day, I say, my lord, that in this our day, we
should not mind the things that concern the very being and
well-being of our ancient kingdom, before the day be hid from our
eyes?
No, my lord, God forbid! man's extremity is God's opportunity; he is
a present help in time of need, and a deliverer, and that right
early. Some unforeseen Providence will fall out, that may cast the
balance; some Joseph or other will say, "Why do ye strive together,
since ye are brethren?" None can destroy Scotland, save Scotland
itself; hold your hands from the pen, you are secure. Some Judah or
other will say, "Let not our hands be upon the lad, he is our
brother." There will be a Jehovah-Jireh, and some ram will he caught
in the thicket, when the bloody knife is at our mother's throat. Let
us up then, my lord, and let our noble patriots behave themselves
like men, and we know not bow soon a blessing may come.
My lord, I wish from my heart, that this my vision prove not as true
as my reasons for it are probable. I design not at this time to
enter into the merits of any one particular article; I intend this
discourse as an introduction to what I may afterwards say upon the
whole debate as it falls in before this honorable house; and
therefore, in the farther prosecution of what I have to say, I shall
insist upon few particulars, very necessary to be understood, before
we enter into the detail of so important a matter.
I shall, therefore, in the first place, endeavor to encourage a free
and full deliberation, without animosities and heats. In the next
place I shall endeavor to make an inquiry into the nature and source
of the unnatural and dangerous divisions that are now on foot within
this isle, with some motives showing that it is our interest to lay
them aside at this time. Then I shall inquire into the reasons
which have induced the two nations to enter into a treaty of union
at this time, with some considerations and meditations with relation
to the behavior of the lord's commissioners of the two kingdoms in
the management of this great concern. And lastly, I shall propose a
method, by which we shall most distinctly, and without confusion, go
through the several articles of this treaty, without unnecessary
repetitions or loss of time. And all this with all deference, and
under the correction of this honorable house.
My lord chancellor, the greatest honor that was done unto a Roman
was to allow him the glory of a triumph; the greatest and most
dishonorable punishment was that of _parricide_. He that was guilty of
_parricide_ was beaten with rods upon his naked body till the blood
gushed out of all the veins of his body; then he was sewed up in a
leathern sack, called a _culeus_ with a cock, a viper, and an ape,
and thrown headlong into the sea.
My lord, _patricide_ is a greater crime than _parricide_, all the world
over.
In a triumph, my lord, when the conqueror was riding in his
triumphal chariot, crowned with laurels, adorned with trophies, and
applauded with huzzas, there was a monitor appointed to stand behind
him, to warn him not to be high-minded, not puffed up with
overweening thoughts of himself; and to his chariot were tied a whip
and a bell, to mind him that for all his glory and grandeur he was
accountable to the people for his administration, and would be
punished as other men, if found guilty.
The greatest honor amongst us, my lord, is to represent the
sovereign's sacred person in Parliament; and in one particular it
appears to be greater than that of a triumph, because the whole
legislative power seems to be wholly intrusted with him. If he give
the royal assent to an act of the estates, it becomes a law
obligatory upon the subject, though contrary or without any
instructions from the sovereign. If he refuse the royal assent to a
vote in Parliament, it cannot be a law, though he has the
Sovereign's particular and positive instructions for it.
His Grace, the Duke of Queensbury, who now presents her Majesty in
this session of Parliament, hath had the honor of that great trust,
as often, if not more, than any Scotchman ever had. He hath been
the favorite of two successive sovereigns; and I cannot but commend
his constancy and perseverance, that notwithstanding his former
difficulties and unsuccessful attempts, and maugre some other
specialties not yet determined, that his Grace has yet had the
resolution to undertake the most unpopular measures last. If his
Grace succeed in this affair of a union, and that it prove for the
happiness and welfare of the nation, then he justly merits to have a
statue of gold erected for himself; but if it shall tend to the
entire destruction and abolition of our nation, and that we the
nation's trustees will go into it, then I must say that a whip and a
bell, a cock and a viper and an ape, are but too small punishments
for any such bold, unnatural undertaking and complaisance.
That I may pave a way, my lord, to a full, calm, and free reasoning
upon this affair, which is of the last consequence unto this nation,
I shall mind this honorable house, that we are the successors of our
noble predecessors, who founded our monarchy, framed our laws,
amended, altered, and corrected them from time to time, as the
affairs and circumstances of the nation did require, without the
assistance or advice of any foreign power or potentate, and who,
during the time of 2,000 years, have handed them down to us, a free
independent nation, with the hazard of their lives and fortunes.
Shall not we then argue for that which our progenitors have
purchased for us at so dear a rate, and with so much immortal honor
and glory? God forbid. Shall the hazard of a father unbind the
ligaments of a dumb son's tongue; and shall we hold our peace, when
our _patria_ is in danger? I speak this, my lord, that I may
encourage every individual member of this house to speak his mind
freely. There are many wise and prudent men amongst us, who think
it not worth their while to open their mouths; there are others, who
can speak very well, and to good purpose, who shelter themselves
under the shameful cloak of silence, from a fear of the frowns of
great men and parties. I have observed, my lord, by my experience,
the greatest number of speakers in the most trivial affairs; and it
will always prove so, while we come not to the right understanding
of the oath _de_ _fideli_, whereby we are bound not only to give our
vote, but our faithful advice in Parliament, as we should answer to
God; and in our ancient laws, the representatives of the honorable
barons and the royal boroughs are termed spokesmen. It lies upon
your lordships, therefore, particularly to take notice of such whose
modesty makes them bashful to speak. Therefore, I shall leave it
upon you, and conclude this point with a very memorable saying of an
honest private gentleman to a great queen, upon occasion of a State
project, contrived by an able statesman, and the favorite to a great
king, against a peaceable, obedient people, because of the diversity
of their laws and constitutions: "If at this time thou hold thy
peace, salvation shall come to the people from another place, but
thou and thy house shall perish." I leave the application to each
particular member of this house.
My lord, I come now to consider our divisions. We are under the
happy reign (blessed be God) of the best of queens, who has no evil
design against the meanest of her subjects, who loves all her
people, and is equally beloved by them again; and yet that under the
happy influence of our most excellent Queen there should be such
divisions and factions more dangerous and threatening to her
dominions than if we were under an arbitrary government, is most
strange and unaccountable. Under an arbitrary prince all are willing
to serve because all are under a necessity to obey, whether they
will or not. He chooses therefore whom he will, without respect to
either parties or factions; and if he think fit to take the advices
of his councils or parliaments, every man speaks his mind freely,
and the prince receives the faithful advice of his people without
the mixture of self-designs. If he prove a good prince, the
government is easy; if bad, either death or a revolution brings a
deliverance. Whereas here, my lord, there appears no end of our
misery, if not prevented in time; factions are now become
independent, and have got footing in councils, in parliaments, in
treaties, armies, in incorporations, in families, among kindred,
yea, man and wife are not free from their political jars.
It remains therefore, my lord, that I inquire into the nature of
these things; and since the names give us not the right idea of the
thing, I am afraid I shall have difficulty to make myself well
understood.
The names generally used to denote the factions are Whig and Tory,
as obscure as that of Guelfs and Gibelins. Yea, my lord, they have
different significations, as they are applied to factions in each
kingdom; a Whig in England is a heterogeneous creature, in Scotland
he is all of a piece; a Tory in England is all of a piece, and a
statesman in Scotland, he is quite otherways, an anti-courtier and
anti-statesman.
A Whig in England appears to be somewhat like Nebuchadnezzar's
image, of different metals, different classes, different principles,
and different designs; yet take the Whigs all together, they are
like a piece of fine mixed drugget of different threads, some finer,
some coarser, which, after all, make a comely appearance and an
agreeable suit. Tory is like a piece of loyal-made English cloth,
the true staple of the nation, all of a thread; yet, if we look
narrowly into it, we shall perceive diversity of colors, which,
according to the various situations and positions, make various
appearances. Sometimes Tory is like the moon in its full, as
appeared in the affair of the bill of occasional conformity; upon
other occasions it appears to be under a cloud, and as if it were
eclipsed by a greater body, as it did in the design of calling over
the illustrious Princess Sophia. However, by this we may see their
designs are to outshoot Whig in his own bow.
Whig in Scotland is a true blue Presbyterian, who, without
considering time or power, will venture their all for the Kirk, but
something less for the State. The greatest difficulty is how to
describe a Scots Tory. Of old, when I knew them first, Tory was an
honest-hearted comradish fellow, who, provided he was maintained and
protected in his benefices, titles, and dignities by the State, was
the less anxious who had the government and management of the
Church. But now what he is since _jure_ _divino_ came in fashion, and
that Christianity, and, by consequence, salvation comes to depend
upon episcopal ordination, I profess I know not what to make of him;
only this I must say for him, that he endeavors to do by opposition
that which his brother in England endeavors by a more prudent and
less scrupulous method.
Now, my lord, from these divisions there has got up a kind of
aristocracy something like the famous triumvirate at Rome; they are
a kind of undertakers and pragmatic statesmen, who, finding their
power and strength great, and answerable to their designs, will make
bargains with our gracious sovereign; they will serve her
faithfully, but upon their own terms; they must have their own
instruments, their own measures; this man must be turned out, and
that man put in, and then they will make her the most glorious queen
in Europe.
Where will this end, my lord? Is not her Majesty in danger by such
a method? Is not the monarchy in danger? Is not the nation's peace
and tranquillity in danger? Will a change of parties make the
nation more happy? No, my lord, the seed is sown that is like to
afford us a perpetual increase; it is not an annual herb, it takes
deep root; it seeds and breeds; and, if not timely prevented by her
Majesty's royal endeavors, will split the whole island in two.
My lord, I think, considering our present circumstances at this
time, the Almighty God has reserved this great work for us. We may
bruise this Hydra of division, and crush this Cockatrice's egg. Our
neighbors in England are not yet fitted for any such thing; they are
not under the afflicting hand of Providence, as we are; their
circumstances are great and glorious; their treaties are prudently
managed, both at home and abroad; their generals brave and valorous;
their armies successful and victorious; their trophies and laurels
memorable and surprising; their enemies subdued and routed; their
strongholds besieged and taken, sieges relieved, marshals killed and
taken prisoners; provinces and kingdoms are the results of their
victories; their royal navy is the terror of Europe; their trade and
commerce extended through the universe, encircling the whole
habitable world and rendering their own capital city the emporium
for the whole inhabitants of the earth. And, which is yet more than
all these things, the subjects freely bestow their treasure upon
their sovereign! And, above all, these vast riches, the sinews of
war, and without which all the glorious success had proved abortive
--these treasures are managed with such faithfulness and nicety,
that they answer seasonably all their demands, though at never so
great a distance. Upon these considerations, my lord, how hard and
difficult a thing will it prove to persuade our neighbors to a
self-denying bill.
'Tis quite otherwise with us, my lord; we are an obscure poor
people, though formerly of better account, removed to a remote
corner of the world, without name, and without alliances, our posts
mean and precarious, so that I profess I don't think any one post of
the kingdom worth the briguing after, save that of being
commissioner to a long session of a factious Scotch Parliament, with
an antedated commission, and that yet renders the rest of the
ministers more miserable. What hinders us then, my lord, to lay
aside our divisions, to unite cordially and heartily together in our
present circumstances, when our all is at stake? Hannibal, my lord,
is at our gates; Hannibal is come within our gates Hannibal is come
the length of this table; he is at the foot of this throne; he will
demolish this throne; if we take not notice, he'll seize upon these
regalia, he'll take them as our _spolia_ _opima_, and whip us out of
this house, never to return again.
For the love of God then, my lord, for the safety and welfare of our
ancient kingdom, whose sad circumstances, I hope, we shall yet
convert into prosperity and happiness, we want no means, if we
unite. God blessed the peacemakers; we want neither men, nor
sufficiency of all manner of things necessary, to make a nation
happy; all depends upon management, _Concordia_ _res_ _parvae_
_crescunt_. I fear not these articles, though they were ten times
worse than they are, if we once cordially forgive one another, and
that, according to our proverb, bygones be bygones, and fair play
for time to come. For my part, in the sight of God, and in the
presence of this honorable house, I heartily forgive every man, and
beg that they may do the same to me; and I do most humbly propose
that his grace, my lord commissioner, may appoint an Agape, may
order a love feast for this honorable house, that we may lay aside
all self-designs, and after our fasts and humiliations may have a
day of rejoicing and thankfulness, may eat our meat with gladness,
and our bread with a merry heart; then shall we sit each man under
his own fig-tree, and the voice of the turtle shall be heard in our
land, a bird famous for constancy and fidelity.
My lord, I shall make a pause here, and stop going on further in my
discourse, till I see further, if his grace, my lord commissioner,
receive any humble proposals for removing misunderstandings among
us, and putting an end to our fatal divisions; upon honor, I have no
other design, and I am content to beg the favor upon my bended
knees. (No answer.) My lord chancellor, I am sorry that I must
pursue the thread of my sad and melancholy story. What remains, I
am afraid may prove as afflicting as what I have said; I shall
therefore consider the motives which have engaged the two nations to
enter upon a treaty of union at this time. In general, my lord, I
think both of them had in their view to better themselves by the
treaty; but before I enter upon the particular motives of each
nation, I must inform this honorable house that since I can
remember, the two nations have altered their sentiments upon that
affair, even almost to downright contradiction--they have changed
headbands, as we say; for the English, till of late, never thought
it worth their pains of treating with us; the good bargain they made
at the beginning they resolve to keep, and that which we call an
incorporating union was not so much as in their thoughts. The first
notice they seemed to take of us was in our affair of Caledonia,
when they had most effectually broken off that design in a manner
very well known to the world, and unnecessary to be repeated here;
they kept themselves quiet during the time of our complaints upon
that head. In which time our sovereign, to satisfy the nation, and
allay their heats, did condescend to give us some good laws, and
amongst others that of personal liberties; but they having declared
their succession, and extended their entail, without ever taking
notice of us, our gracious sovereign Queen Anne was graciously
pleased to give the royal assent to our act of security, to that of
peace and war after the decease of her Majesty, and the heirs of her
body, and to give us a hedge to all our sacred and civil interests,
by declaring it high treason to endeavor the alteration of them, as
they were then established. Thereupon did follow the threatening
and minatory laws against us by the Parliament of England, and the
unjust and unequal character of what her Majesty had so graciously
condescended to in our favors. Now, my lord, whether the desire
they had to have us engaged in the same succession with them, or
whether they found us like a free and independent people, breathing
after more liberty than what formerly was looked after, or whether
they were afraid of our act of security, in case of her Majesty's
decease; which of all these motives has induced them to a treaty I
leave it to themselves. This I must say only, they have made a good
bargain this time also.
For the particular motives that induced us, I think they are obvious
to be known, we found by sad experience, that every man hath
advanced in power and riches, as they have done in trade, and at the
same time considering that nowhere through the world slaves are
found to be rich, though they should be adorned with chains of gold,
we thereupon changed our notion of an incorporating union to that of
a federal one; and being resolved to take this opportunity to make
demands upon them, before we enter into the succession, we were
content to empower her Majesty to authorize and appoint
commissioners to treat with the commissioners of England, with as
ample powers as the lords commissioners from England had from their
constituents, that we might not appear to have less confidence in
her Majesty, nor more narrow-heartedness in our act, than our
neighbors of England. And thereupon last Parliament, after her
Majesty's gracious letter was read, desiring us to declare the
succession in the first place, and afterwards to appoint
commissioners to treat, we found it necessary to renew our former
resolve, which I shall read to this honorable house. The resolve
presented by the Duke of Hamilton last session of Parliament:--
"That this Parliament will not proceed to the nomination of a
successor till we have had a previous treaty with England, in
relation to our commerce, and other concerns with that nation. And
further, it is resolved that this Parliament will proceed to make
such limitations and conditions of government, for the rectification
of our constitution, as may secure the liberty, religion, and
independency of this kingdom, before they proceed to the said
nomination."
Now, my lord, the last session of Parliament having, before they
would enter into any treaty with England, by a vote of the house,
passed both an act for limitations and an act for rectification of
our constitution, what mortal man has reason to doubt the design of
this treaty was only federal?
My lord chancellor, it remains now, that we consider the behavior of
the lords commissioners at the opening of this treaty. And before I
enter upon that, allow me to make this meditation, that if our
posterity, after we are all dead and gone, shall find themselves
under an ill-made bargain, and shall have recourse unto our records,
and see who have been the managers of that treaty, by which they
have suffered so much; when they read the names, they will certainly
conclude, and say, Ah! our nation has been reduced to the last
extremity, at the time of this treaty; all our great chieftains, all
our great peers and considerable men, who used formerly to defend
the rights and liberties of the nation, have been all killed and
dead in the bed of honor, before ever the nation was necessitated to
condescend to such mean and contemptible terms. Where are the names
of the chief men, of the noble families of Stuarts, Hamiltons,
Grahams, Campbels, Gordons, Johnstons, Humes, Murrays, Kers? Where
are the two great officers of the crown, the constables and marshals
of Scotland? They have certainly all been extinguished, and now we
are slaves forever.
Whereas the English records will make their posterity reverence the
memory of the honorable names who have brought under their fierce,
warlike, and troublesome neighbors, who had struggled so long for
independence, shed the best blood of their nation and reduced a
considerable part of their country to become waste and desolate.
I am informed, my lord, that our commissioners did indeed frankly
tell the lords commissioners for England that the inclinations of
the people of Scotland were much altered of late, in relation to an
incorporating union; and that, therefore, since the entail was to
end with her Majesty's life (whom God long preserve), it was proper
to begin the treaty upon the foot of the treaty of 1604, year of
God, the time when we came first under one sovereign; but this the
English commissioners would not agree to, and our commissioners,
that they might not seem obstinate, were willing to treat and
conclude in the terms laid before this honorable house and subjected
to their determination. If the lords commissioners for England had
been as civil and complaisant, they should certainly have finished a
federal treaty likewise, that both nations might have the choice
which of them to have gone into as they thought fit; but they would
hear of nothing but an entire and complete union, a name which
comprehends a union, either by incorporation, surrender, or
conquest, whereas our commissioners thought of nothing but a fair,
equal, incorporating union. Whether this be so or not I leave it to
every man's judgment; but as for myself I must beg liberty to think
it no such thing; for I take an incorporating union to be, where
there is a change both in the material and formal points of
government, as if two pieces of metal were melted down into one
mass, it can neither be said to retain its former form or substance
as it did before the mixture. But now, when I consider this treaty,
as it hath been explained and spoke to before us this three weeks by
past, I see the English constitution remaining firm, the same two
houses of Parliament, the same taxes, the same customs, the same
excises, the same trading companies, the same municipal laws and
courts of judicature; and all ours either subject to regulations or
annihilations, only we have the honor to pay their old debts and to
have some few persons present for witnesses to the validity of the
deed when they are pleased to contract more.
Good God! What, is this an entire surrender!
My lord, I find my heart so full of grief and indignation that I
must beg pardon not to finish the last part of my discourse, that I
may drop a tear as the prelude to so sad a story.
JOHN BELL (1797-1869)
John Bell, of Tennessee, who was a candidate with Edward Everett on
the "Constitutional Union" ticket of 1860, when Virginia, Kentucky,
and Tennessee gave him their thirty-nine electoral votes in favor of
a hopeless peace, will always seem one of the most respectable
figures in the politics of a time when calmness and conservatism,
such as characterized him and his coadjutor., Mr. Everett, of
Massachusetts, had ceased to be desired by men who wished immediate
success in public life. He was one of the founders of the Whig
party, and by demonstrating himself to be one of the very few men
who could win against Andrew Jackson's opposition in Tennessee, he
acquired, under Jackson and Van Buren, a great influence with the
Whigs of the country at large. He was a member of Congress from
Tennessee for fourteen years dating from 1827, when he won by a
single vote against Felix Grundy, one of the strongest men in
Tennessee and a special favorite with General Jackson. Disagreeing
with Jackson on the removal of the deposits, Bell was elected
Speaker of the House over Jackson's protege, James K. Polk, in 1834,
and in 1841 he entered the Whig cabinet as Secretary of War under
Harrison who had defeated another of Jackson's proteges, Van
Buren. In 1847 and again in 1853, he was elected United States
Senator from Tennessee and he did his best to prevent secession. He
had opposed Calhoun's theories of the right of a State to nullify a
Federal act if unconstitutional, and in March 1858, in the debate
over the Lecompton constitution, he opposed Toombs in a speech which
probably made him the candidate of the Constitutional Unionists two
years later. Another notable speech, of even more far-reaching
importance, he had delivered in 1853 in favor of opening up the West
by building the Pacific Railroad, a position in which he was
supported by Jefferson Davis.
Mr. Bell was for the Union in 1861, denying the right of secession,
but he opposed the coercion of the Southern States, and when the
fighting actually began he sided with Tennessee, and took little or
no part in public affairs thereafter. He died in 1869.
AGAINST EXTREMISTS NORTH AND SOUTH (From a Speech in the Senate,
March 18th, 1858. on the Lecompton Constitution)
The honorable Senator from Georgia, Mr. Toombs, announced some great
truths to-day. He said that mankind made a long step, a great
stride, when they declared that minorities should not rule; and that
a still higher and nobler advance had been made when it was decided
that majorities could only rule through regular and legal forms. He
asserted this general doctrine with reference to the construction he
proposed to give to the Lecompton constitution; and to say that the
people of Kansas, unless they spoke through regular forms, cannot
speak at all. He will allow me to say, however, that the forms
through which a majority speaks must be provided and established by
competent authority, and his doctrine can have no application to the
Lecompton constitution, unless he can first show that the
legislature of Kansas was vested with legal authority to provide for
the formation of a State constitution; for, until that can be shown,
there could be no regular and legal forms through which the majority
could speak. But how does that Senator reconcile his doctrine with
that avowed by the President, as to the futility of attempting, by
constitutional provisions, to fetter the power of the people in
changing their constitution at pleasure? In no States of the Union
so much as in some of the slaveholding States would such a doctrine
as that be so apt to be abused by incendiary demagogues,
disappointed and desperate politicians, in stirring up the people to
assemble voluntarily in convention--disregarding all the
restrictions in their constitution--and strike at the property of
the slaveholder.
The honorable Senator from Kentucky inquired what, under this new
doctrine, would prevent the majority of the people of the States of
the Union from changing the present Federal Constitution, and
abrogating all existing guarantees for the protection of the small
States, and any peculiar or particular interest confined to a
minority of the States of the Union. The analogy, I admit, is not
complete between the Federal Constitution and a constitution of a
State; but the promulgation of the general principle, that a
majority of the people are fettered by no constitutional
restrictions in the exercise of their right to change their form of
government, is dangerous. That is quite enough for the purposes of
demagogues and incendiary agitators. When I read the special
message of the President, I said to some friends that the message,
taking it altogether, was replete with more dangerous heresies than
any paper I had ever seen emanating, not from a President of the
United States, but from any political club in the country, and
calculated to do more injury. I consider it in effect, and in its
tendencies, as organizing anarchy.
We are told that if we shall admit Kansas with the Lecompton
constitution, this whole difficulty will soon be settled by the
people of Kansas. How? By disregarding the mode and forms
prescribed by the constitution for amending it? No. I am not sure
that the President, after all the lofty generalities announced in
his message, in regard to the inalienable rights of the people,
intended to sanction the idea that all the provisions of the
Lecompton constitution in respect to the mode and form of amending
it should be set aside. He says the legislature now elected may, at
its first meeting, call a convention to amend the constitution; and
in another passage of his message he says that this inalienable
power of the majority must be exercised in a lawful manner. This is
perplexing. Can there be any lawful enactment of the legislature in
relation to the call of a convention, unless it be in conformity
with the provisions of the constitution? They require that
two-thirds of the members of the legislature shall concur in passing
an act to take the sense of the people upon the call of a
convention, and that the vote shall be taken at the next regular
election, which cannot be held until two years afterwards. How can
this difficulty be got over? The truth is, that unless all
constitutional impediments in respect to forms be set aside, and the
people take it in hand to amend the constitution on revolutionary
principles, there can be no end of agitation on this subject in less
than three years. I long since ventured the prediction that there
would be no settlement of the difficulties in Kansas until the next
presidential election. To continue the agitation is too important
to the interests of both the great parties of the country to
dispense with it, as long as any pretext can be found for prolonging
it. In the closing debate on the Kansas-Nebraska Bill, I told its
supporters that they could do nothing more certain to disturb the
composure of the two Senators who sat on the opposite side of the
chamber, the one from Massachusetts [Mr. Sumner] and the other from
Ohio [Mr. Chase], than to reject that bill. Its passage was the
only thing in the range of possible events by which their political
fortunes could be resuscitated, so completely had the Free-Soil
movement at the North been paralyzed by the compromise measures of
1850. I say now to the advocates of this measure, if they want to
strengthen the Republican party, and give the reins of government
into their hands, pass this bill. If they desire to weaken the
power of that party, and arrest the progress of slavery agitation,
reject it. And if it is their policy to put an end to the agitation
connected with Kansas affairs at the earliest day practicable, as
they say it is, then let them remit this constitution back to the
people of Kansas, for their ratification or rejection. In that way
the whole difficulty will be settled before the adjournment of the
present session of Congress, without the violation of any sound
principle, or the sacrifice of the rights of either section of the
Union.
But the President informs us that threatening and ominous clouds
impend over the country; and he fears that if Kansas is not admitted
under the Lecompton constitution, slavery agitation will be revived
in a more dangerous form than it has ever yet assumed. There may be
grounds for that opinion, for aught I know; but it seems to me that
if any of the States of the South have taken any position on this
question which endangers the peace of the country, they could not
have been informed of the true condition of affairs in Kansas, and
of the strong objections which may be urged on principle against the
acceptance by Congress of the Lecompton constitution. And I have
such confidence in the intelligence of the people of the whole
South, that when the history and character of this instrument shall
be known, even those who would be glad to find some plausible
pretext for dissolving the Union will see that its rejection by
Congress would not furnish them with such a one as they could make
available for their purposes.
When the Kansas-Nebraska Bill was under discussion, in 1854, in
looking to all the consequences which might follow the adoption of
that measure, I could not overlook the fact that a sentiment of
hostility to the Union was widely diffused in certain States of the
South; and that that sentiment was only prevented from assuming an
organized form of resistance to the authority of the Federal
government, at least in one of the States, in 1851, by the earnest
remonstrance of a sister State, that was supposed to sympathize with
her in the project of establishing a southern republic. Nor could I
fail to remember that the project--I speak of the convention held in
South Carolina, in pursuance of an act of the legislature--was
then postponed, not dropped. The argument was successfully urged
that an enterprise of such magnitude ought not to be entered upon
without the co-operation of a greater number of States than they
could then certainly count upon. It was urged that all the
cotton-planting States would, before a great while, be prepared to
unite in the movement, and that they, by the force of circumstances,
would bring in all the slaveholding States. The ground was openly
taken, that separation was an inevitable necessity. It was only a
question of time. It was said that no new aggression was necessary
on the part of the North to justify such a step. It was said that
the operation of this government from its foundation had been
adverse to southern interests; and that the admission of California
as a free State, and the attempt to exclude the citizens of the
South, with their property, from all the territory acquired from
Mexico, was a sufficient justification for disunion. It was not a
mere menace to deter the North from further aggressions. These
circumstances made a deep impression on my mind at the time, and
from a period long anterior to that I had known that it was a maxim
with the most skillful tacticians among those who desire separation,
that the slaveholding States must be united--consolidated into one
party. That object once effected, disunion, it was supposed, would
follow without difficulty.
I had my fears that the Kansas-Nebraska Bill was expected to
consolidate the South, and to pave the way for the accomplishment of
ulterior plans by some of the most active supporters of that measure
from the South; and these fears I indicated in the closing debate on
that subject. Some of the supporters of that measure, I fear, are
reluctant now to abandon the chances of finding some pretext for
agitating the subject of separation in the South in the existing
complications of the Kansas embroilment.
To what extent the idea of disunion is entertained in some of the
Southern States, and what importance is attached to the policy of
uniting the whole South in one party as a preliminary step, may be
inferred from a speech delivered before the Southern convention lately
held in Knoxville, Tenn., by Mr. De Bow, the president of the
convention, and the editor of a popular Southern review. I will only
refer now to the fate to which the author resigns those who dare to
break the ranks of that solid phalanx in which he thinks the South
should be combined--that is, to be "held up to public scorn and
public punishment as traitors and Tories, more steeped in guilt than
those of the Revolution itself."
The honorable Senator from New York further announced to us in
exultant tones, that "at last there was a North side of this
Chamber, a North side of the Chamber of the House of Representatives,
and a North side of the Union, as well as a South side of all
these"; and he admonished us that the time was at hand when freedom
would assert its influence in the regulation of the domestic and
foreign policy of the country.
When was there a time in the history of the government that there
was no North side of this Chamber and of the other? When was there a
time that there was not a proud array of Northern men in both
Chambers, distinguished by their genius and ability, devoted to the
interests of the North, and successful in maintaining them?
Though it may be true that Southern men have filled the executive
chair for much the larger portion of the time that has elapsed since
the organization of the government, yet when, in what instance was
it, that a Southerner has been elevated to that high station without
the support of a majority of the freemen of the North?
Do you of the North complain that the policy of the government, under
the long-continued influence of Southern Presidents, has been
injurious or fatal to your interests? Has it paralyzed your industry?
Has it crippled your resources? Has it impaired your energies? Has
it checked your progress in any one department of human effort? Let
your powerful mercantile marine, your ships whitening every sea--the
fruit of wise commercial regulations and navigation laws; let your
flourishing agriculture, your astonishing progress in manufacturing
skill, your great canals, your thousands of miles of railroads, your
vast trade, internal and external, your proud cities, and your
accumulated millions of moneyed capital, ready to be invested in
profitable enterprises in any part of the world, answer that question.
Do you complain of a narrow and jealous policy under Southern rule, in
extending and opening new fields of enterprise to your hardy sons in
the great West, along the line of the great chain of American lakes,
even to the head waters of the Father of Rivers, and over the rich and
fertile plains stretching southward from the lake shores? Let the
teeming populations--let the hundreds of millions of annual products
that have succeeded to the but recent dreary and unproductive haunts
of the red man--answer that question. That very preponderance of
free States which the Senator from New York contemplates with such
satisfaction, and which has moved him exultingly to exclaim that
there is at last a North side of this Chamber, has been hastened by
the liberal policy of Southern Presidents and Southern statesmen; and
has it become the ambition of that Senator to unite and combine all
this great, rich, and powerful North in the policy of crippling the
resources and repressing the power of the South? Is this to be the
one idea which is to mold the policy of the government, when that
gentleman and his friends shall control it? If it be, then I appeal
to the better feelings and the better judgment of his followers to
arrest him in his mad career. Sir, let us have some brief interval of
repose at least from this eternal agitation of the slavery question.
Let power go into whatever hands it may, let us save the Union!
I have all the confidence other gentlemen can have in the extent to
which this Union is intrenched in the hearts of the great mass of
the people of the North and South; but when I reflect upon and
consider the desperate and dangerous extremes to which ambitious
party leaders are often prepared to go, without meaning to do the
country any mischief, in the struggle for the imperial power, the
crown of the American presidency, I sometimes tremble for its fate.
Two great parties are now dividing the Union on this question. It is
evident to every man of sense, who examines it, that practically, in
respect to slavery, the result will be the same both to North and
South; Kansas will be a free State, no matter what may be the
decision on this question. But how that decision may affect the
fortunes of those parties, is not certain; and there is the chief
difficulty. But the greatest question of all is, How will that
decision affect the country as a whole?
Two adverse yet concurrent and mighty forces are driving the vessel
of State towards the rocks upon which she must split, unless she
receives timely aid--a paradox, yet expressive of a momentous and
perhaps a fatal truth.
There is no hope of rescue unless the sober-minded men, both of the
North and South, shall, by some sufficient influence, be brought to
adopt the wise maxims and sage counsels of the great founders of our
government.
TRANS-CONTINENTAL RAILROADS (Delivered in the United States Senate,
February 17th, 1858. in Support of the Pacific Railroad Bill)
An objection made to this bill is, the gigantic scale of the
projected enterprise. A grand idea it is. A continent of three
thousand miles in extent from east to west, reaching from the
Atlantic to the Pacific, is to be connected by a railway! Honorable
Senators will remember, that over one thousand miles--one-third of
this whole expanse of the continent--the work is already
accomplished, and that chiefly by private enterprise. I may, as a
safe estimate, say, that a thousand miles of this railroad leading
from the Atlantic to the West, upon the line of the lakes, and
nearly as much upon a line further south, are either completed, or
nearly so. We have two thousand miles yet to compass, in the
execution of a work which it is said has no parallel in the history
of the world. No, sir; it has no parallel in the history of the
world, ancient or modern, either as to its extent and magnitude, or
to its consequences, beneficent and benignant in all its bearings on
the interests of all mankind. It is in these aspects, and in the
contemplation of these consequences, that it has no parallel in the
history of the world--changing the course of the commerce of the
world--bringing the West almost in contact, by reversing the
ancient line of communication, with the gorgeous East, and all its
riches, the stories of which, in our earlier days we regarded as
fabulous; but now, sir, what was held to be merely fictions of the
brain in former times, in regard to the riches of Eastern Asia, is
almost realized on our own western shores. Sir, these are some of
the inducements to the construction of this great road, besides its
importance to the military defenses of the country, and its mail
communications. Sir, it is a magnificent and splendid project in
every aspect in which you can view it. One-third of this great
railway connection is accomplished; two-thirds remain to be. Shall
we hesitate to go forward with the work?
Now, with regard to the means provided for the construction of the
road. It is said, here is an enormous expenditure of the public money
proposed. We propose to give twenty millions of dollars in the bonds
of the government, bearing five per cent. interest, and fifteen
millions of acres of land, supposed to be worth as much more, on the
part of the government. This is said to be enormous, and we are
reminded that we ought to look at what the people will say, and how
they will feel when they come to the knowledge that twenty millions in
money and twenty millions in land have been given for the construction
of a railway! Some doubtless there are in this chamber who are ready
to contend that we had better give these fifteen millions of acres of
land to become homesteads for the landless and homeless. What is this
twenty millions in money, and how is it to be paid? It is supposed
that the road cannot be constructed in less than five years. In that
event, bonds of the government to the amount of four millions of
dollars will issue annually. Probably the road will not be built in
less than ten years, and that will require an issue of bonds amounting
to two millions a year; and possibly the road may not be finished in
less than twenty years, which would limit the annual issue of bonds to
one million. The interest upon these bonds, at five per cent, will
of course have to be paid out of the treasury, a treasury in which
there is now a surplus of twelve or fourteen millions of dollars.
When the road is completed and the whole amount of twenty millions in
lands is paid, making the whole sum advanced by the government forty
millions, the annual interest upon them will only be two millions.
And what is that? Why, sir, the donations and benevolences, the
allowances of claims upon flimsy and untenable grounds, and other
extravagant and unnecessary expenditures that are granted by Congress
and the executive departments, while you have an overflowing treasury,
will amount to the half of that sum annually. The enormous sum of two
millions is proposed to be paid out of the treasury annually, when
this great road shall be completed! It is a tremendous undertaking,
truly! What a scheme! What extravagance! I understand the cost of
the New York and Erie road alone, constructed principally by private
enterprise, has been not less than thirty millions--between thirty
and thirty-three millions of dollars. That work was constructed by a
single State giving aid occasionally to a company, which supplied the
balance of the cost. I understand that the road from Baltimore to
Wheeling, when it shall have been finished, and its furniture placed
upon it, will have cost at least thirty millions. What madness, what
extravagance, then, is it for the government of the United States to
undertake to expend forty millions for a road from the Mississippi
to the Pacific.
Mr. President, one honorable Senator says the amount is not
sufficient to induce a capitalist to invest his money in the
enterprise. Others, again, say it is far too much; more than we can
afford to give for the construction of the work. Let us see which is
right. The government is to give twenty millions in all out of the
treasury for the road; or we issue bonds and pay five per cent,
interest annually upon them, and twenty millions in lands, which, if
regarded as money, amounts to a cost to the government of two
millions per annum.
What are the objects to be accomplished? A daily mail from the
valley of the Mississippi to the Pacific; the free transportation of
all troops and munitions of war required for the protection and
defense of our possessions on the Pacific; which we could not hold
three months in a war either with England or France, without such a
road. By building this road we accomplish this further object: This
road will be the most effective and powerful check that can be
interposed by the government upon Indian depredations and
aggressions upon our frontiers or upon each other; the northern
tribes upon the southern, and the southern upon the northern. You
cut them in two. You will be constantly in their midst, and cut off
their intercommunication and hostile depredations. You will have a
line of quasi fortifications, a line of posts and stations, with
settlements on each side of the road. Every few miles you will thus
have settlements strong enough to defend themselves against inroads
of the Indians, and so constituting a wall of separation between the
Indian tribes, composed of a white population, with arms in their
hands. This object alone would, perhaps, be worth as much as the
road will cost; and when I speak of what the road will be worth in
this respect, I mean to say, that besides the prevention of savage
warfare, the effusion of blood, it will save millions of dollars to
the treasury annually, in the greater economy attained in moving
troops and military supplies and preventing hostilities.
. . .
I have been thus particular in noting these things because I want to
show where or on which side the balance will be found in the
adjustment of the responsibility account between the friends and the
opponents of this measure--which will have the heaviest account to
settle with the country.
For myself, I am not wedded to this particular scheme. Rather than
have no road, I would prefer to adopt other projects. I am now
advocating one which I supposed would meet the views of a greater
number of Senators than any other. I think great honor is due to
Mr. Whitney for having originated the scheme, and having obtained
the sanction of the legislatures of seventeen or eighteen States of
the Union. Rather than have the project altogether fail, I would be
willing to adopt this plan. It may not offer the same advantages for
a speedy consummation of the work; but still, we would have a road
in prospect, and that would be a great deal. But if gentlemen are to
rise here in their places year after year--and this is the fifth
year from the time we ought to have undertaken this work--and tell
us it is just time to commence a survey, we will never have a
road. The honorable Senator from South Carolina [Mr. Butler] says
there ought to be some limitation in this idea of progress, when
regarded as a spur to great activity and energy, as to what we shall
do in our day. He says we have acquired California; we have opened
up those rich regions on our western borders, which promises such
magnificent results; and he asks, is not that enough for the present
generation? Leave it to the nest generation to construct a work of
such magnitude as this--requiring forty millions of dollars from
the government. Mr. President, I have said that if the condition was
a road or no road, I would regard one hundred and fifty millions of
dollars as well laid out by the government for the work; though I
have no idea that it will take such an amount. Eighty or one hundred
millions of dollars will build the road.
But with regard to what is due from this generation to itself, or
what may be left to the next generation, I say it is for the present
generation that we want the road. As to our having acquired
California, and opened this new world of commerce and enterprise,
and as to what we shall leave to the next generation, I say that,
after we of this generation shall have constructed this road, we
will, perhaps, not even leave to the next generation the
construction of a second one. The present generation, in my
opinion, will not pass away until it shall have seen two great lines
of railroads in prosperous operation between the Atlantic and
Pacific Oceans, and within our own territory, and still leave quite
enough to the next generation--the third and fourth great lines of
communication between the two extremes of the continent. One, at
least, is due to ourselves, and to the present generation; and I
hope there are many within the sound of my voice who will live to
see it accomplished. We want that new Dorado, the new Ophir of
America, to be thrown open and placed within the reach of the whole
people. We want the great cost, the delays, as well as the
privations and risks of a passage to California, by the malarious
Isthmus of Panama, or any other of the routes now in use, to be
mitigated, or done away with. There will be some greater equality
in the enjoyment and advantages of these new acquisitions upon the
Pacific coast when this road shall be constructed. The
inexhaustible gold mines, or placers of California, will no longer
be accessible only to the more robust, resolute, or desperate part
of our population, and who may be already well enough off to pay
their passage by sea, or provide an outfit for an overland travel of
two and three thousand miles. Enterprising young men all over the
country, who can command the pittance of forty or fifty dollars to
pay their railroad fare; heads of families who have the misfortune
to be poor, but spirit and energy enough to seek comfort and
independence by labor, will no longer be restrained by the necessity
of separating themselves from their families, but have it in their
power, with such small means as they may readily command, in eight
or ten days, to find themselves with their whole households
transported and set down in the midst of the gold regions of the
West, at full liberty to possess and enjoy whatever of the rich
harvest spread out before them their industry and energy shall
entitle them to. It will be theirs by as good a title as any can
boast who have had the means to precede them. We hear much said of
late of the justice and policy of providing a homestead, a quarter
section of the public land, to every poor and landless family in the
country. Make this road, and you enable every poor man in the
country to buy a much better homestead, and retain all the pride and
spirit of independence. Gentlemen here may say that the region of
California, so inviting, and abundant in gold now, will soon be
exhausted, and all these bright prospects for the enterprising poor
pass away. No, sir; centuries will pass--ages and ages must roll
away before those gold-bearing mountains shall all have been
excavated--those auriferous sands and alluvial deposits shall give
out all their wealth; and even after all these shall have failed,
the beds of the rivers will yield a generous return to the toil of
the laborer. ...
Mr. President, I alluded to the importance of having a communication
by railway between the Mississippi River and the Pacific Ocean, in
the event of war with any great maritime Power. I confess that the
debates upon the subject of our foreign relations within the last
few weeks, if all that was said had commanded my full assent, would
have dissipated very much the force of any argument which I thought
might be fairly urged in favor of this road as a necessary work for
the protection and security of our possessions on the Pacific coast.
We now hear it stated, and reiterated by grave and respectable and
intelligent Senators, that there is no reason that any one should
apprehend a war with either Great Britain or France. Not now, nor
at any time in the future; at all events, unless there shall be a
total change in the condition, social, political, and economical, of
those Powers, and especially as regards Great Britain. All who have
spoken agree that there is no prospect of war. None at all. I
agree that I can see nothing in the signs of the times which is
indicative of immediate and certain war. Several gentlemen have
thrown out the idea that we hold the bond of Great Britain to keep
the peace, with ample guarantees and sureties, not only for the
present time, but for an indefinite time; and as long as Great
Britain stands as an independent monarchy. These sureties and
guarantees are said to consist in the discontented and destitute
class of her population, of her operatives and laborers, and the
indispensable necessity of the cotton crop of the United States in
furnishing them with employment and subsistence, without which it is
said she would be torn with internal strife.
I could tell gentlemen who argue in that way, that we have another
guarantee that Great Britain will not break with the United States
for any trivial cause, which they have not thought proper to raise.
We may threaten and denounce and bluster as much as we please about
British violations of the Clayton and Bulwer treaty, and the
Mosquito protectorate, about the assumption of territorial dominion
over the Balize or British Honduras, and the new colony of the Bay
Islands; and Great Britain will negotiate, explain, treat, and
transgress, and negotiate again, and resort to any device, before
she will go to war with us, as long as she can hope to prolong the
advantages to herself of the free-trade policy now established with
the United States. It is not only the cotton crop of America which
she covets, but it is the rich market for the products of her
manufacturing industry, which she finds in the United States; and
this has contributed as much as any other cause to improve the
condition of her operatives, and impart increased prosperity to her
trade and revenue. As long as we think proper to hold to our
present commercial regulations, I repeat that it will require very
great provocation on our part to force Great Britain into a war with
the United States. . . .
As for this road, we are told at every turn that it is ridiculous to
talk of war in connection with it, for we will have no wars except
those with the Indians. Both England and France dare not go to war
with us. I say this course of argument is not only unwise and
delusive, but if such sentiments take hold on the country, they will
be mischievous; they will almost to a certainty lead to a daring and
reckless policy on our part; and as each government labors under a
similar delusion as to what the other will not dare to do, what is
more probable than that both may get into such a position--the
result of a mutual mistake--that war must ensue? It is worth while
to reflect upon the difference between the policy of Great Britain
and this country in her diplomatic correspondence and debates in
Parliament. When we make a threat, Great Britain does not threaten
in turn. We hear of no gasconade on her part. If we declare that we
have a just right to latitude 54 degrees 40', and will maintain our right
at all hazard, she does not bluster, and threaten, and declare what
she will do, if we dare to cany out our threat. When we talk about
the Mosquito king, of Balize, and of the Bay Islands, and declare
our determination to drive her from her policy and purposes in
regard to them, we do not hear of an angry form of expression from
her. We employed very strong language last year in regard to the
rights of American fishermen; but the reply of Great Britain
scarcely assumed the tone of remonstrance against the intemperate
tone of our debates. Her policy upon all such occasions is one of
wisdom. Her strong and stern purpose is seldom to be seen in her
diplomatic intercourse, or in the debates of her leading statesmen;
but if you were about her dock-yards, or in her foundries, or her
timber-yards, and her great engine manufactories, and her armories,
you would find some bustle and stir. There, all is life and motion.
I have always thought that the proper policy of this country is to
make no threats--to make no parade of what we intend to do. Let
us put the country in a condition to defend its honor and interests;
to maintain them successfully whenever they may be assailed; no
matter by what Power, whether by Great Britain, or France, or both
combined. Make this road; complete the defenses of the country, of
your harbors, and navy yards; strengthen your navy--put it upon an
efficient footing; appropriate ample means for making experiments to
ascertain the best model of ships-of-war, to be driven by steam or
any other motive power; the best models of the engines to be
employed in them; to inquire whether a large complement of guns, or
a few guns of great calibre, is the better plan. We may well, upon
such questions, take a lesson from England. At a recent period she
has been making experiments of this nature, in order to give
increased efficiency to her naval establishment. How did she set
about it? Her Admiralty Board gave orders for eleven of the most
perfect engines that could be built by eleven of the most skillful
and eminent engine-builders in the United Kingdom, without limit as
to the cost, or any other limitation, except as to class or size.
At the same time orders were issued for the building of thirteen
frigates of a medium class by thirteen of the most skillful
shipbuilders in the kingdom, in order to ascertain the best models,
the best running lines, and the best of every other quality
desirable in a war vessel. This is the mode in which Great Britain
prepares for any contingencies which may arise. She cannot tell
when they may occur, yet she knows that she has no immunity from
those chances which, at some time or other, are seen to happen to
all nations. In my opinion, the construction of this road from the
Mississippi to the Pacific is essential to the protection and safety
of this country, in the event of a war with any great maritime
Power. It may take ten years to complete it; but every hundred
miles of it, which may be finished before the occurrence of war,
will be just so much gained--so much added to our ability to
maintain our honor in that war. In every view of this question I
can take, I am persuaded that we ought at least prepare to commence
the work, and do it immediately.
JUDAH PHILIP BENJAMIN (1811-1884)
Judah P. Benjamin, the "Beaconsfield of the Confederacy," was born
at St. Croix in the West Indies, where his parents, a family of
English-Jews, on their way to settle in New Orleans, were delayed by
the American measures against intercourse with England. In 1816 his
parents brought him to Wilmington, North Carolina, where, and at
Yale College, he was educated. Not until after he was ready to
begin life at the bar, did he reach New Orleans, the destination for
which his parents had set out before he was born. In New Orleans,
after a severe struggle, he rose to eminence as a lawyer, and his
firm, of which Mr. Slidell was a partner, was the leading law firm
of the State. He was elected to the United States Senate as a Whig
in 1852 and re-elected as a Democrat in 1859. With Mr. Slidell, who
was serving with him in the Senate, he withdrew in 1861 and became
Attorney-General in the Confederate cabinet. He was afterwards made
Secretary of War, but as the Confederate congress censured him in
that position he resigned it and Mr. Davis immediately appointed him
Secretary of State. After the close of the war, when pursuit after
members of the Confederate cabinet was active, he left the coast of
Florida in an open boat and landed at the Bahamas, taking passage
thence to London where he rose to great eminence as a lawyer. He
was made Queen's Counsel, and on his retirement from practice,
because of ill health, in 1883, a farewell banquet was given him by
the bar in the hall of the Inner Temple, probably the most notable
compliment paid in England to any orator since the banquet to
Berryer. He died in 1884.
Benjamin was called the "brains of the Confederacy" and in acuteness
of intellect he probably surpassed most men of his time. He
resembled Disraeli in this as well as in being a thorough-going
believer in an aristocratic method of government rather than in one
based on universal suffrage and the will of the masses determined by
majority vote.
FAREWELL TO THE UNION (On Leaving the United States Senate in 1861)
Mr. President, if we were engaged in the performance of our
accustomed legislative duties, I might well rest content with the
simple statement of my concurrences in the remarks just made by my
colleague [Mr. Slidell]. Deeply impressed, however, with the
solemnity of the occasion, I cannot remain insensible to the duty of
recording, among the authentic reports of your proceedings, the
expression of my conviction that the State of Louisiana has judged
and acted well and wisely in this crisis of her destiny.
Sir, it has been urged, on more than one occasion, in the
discussions here and elsewhere, that Louisiana stands on an
exceptional footing. It has been said that whatever may be the
rights of the States that were original parties to the Constitution,
--even granting their right to resume, for sufficient cause, those
restricted powers which they delegated to the general government in
trust for their own use and benefit,--still Louisiana can have no
such right, because she was acquired by purchase. Gentlemen have
not hesitated to speak of the sovereign States formed out of the
territory ceded by France as property bought with the money of the
United States, belonging to them as purchasers; and, although they
have not carried their doctrine to its legitimate results, I must
conclude that they also mean to assert, on the same principle, the
right of selling for a price that which for a price was bought.
I shall not pause to comment on this repulsive dogma of a party
which asserts the right of property in free-born white men, in order
to reach its cherished object of destroying the right of property in
slave-born black men--still less shall I detain the Senate in
pointing out how shadowy the distinction between the condition of
the servile African and that to which the white freeman of my State
would be reduced, if it, indeed, be true that they are bound to this
government by ties that cannot be legitimately dissevered without
the consent of that very majority which wields its powers for their
oppression. I simply deny the fact on which the argument is
founded. I deny that the province of Louisiana, or the people of
Louisiana, were ever conveyed to the United States for a price as
property that could be bought or sold at will. Without entering
into the details of the negotiation, the archives of our State
Department show the fact to be, that although the domain, the public
lands, and other property of France in the ceded province, were
conveyed by absolute title to the United States, the sovereignty was
not conveyed otherwise than in trust.
A hundredfold, sir, has the Government of the United States been
reimbursed by the sales of public property, of public lands, for the
price of the acquisition; but not with the fidelity of the honest
trustee has it discharged the obligations as regards the
sovereignty.
I have said that the government assumed to act as trustee or
guardian of the people of the ceded province, and covenanted to
transfer to them the sovereignty thus held in trust for their use
and benefit, as soon as they were capable of exercising it. What is
the express language of the treaty?
"The inhabitants of the ceded territory shall be incorporated in the
Union of the United States, and admitted as soon as possible,
according to the principles of the Federal Constitution, to the
enjoyments of all rights, advantages, and immunities of citizens of
the United States; and in the meantime they shall be maintained and
protected in the enjoyment of their liberty, property, and the
religion which they profess."
And, sir, as if to mark the true nature of the cession in a manner
too significant to admit of misconstruction, the treaty stipulates
no price; and the sole consideration for the conveyance, as stated
on its face, is the desire to afford a strong proof of the
friendship of France for the United States. By the terms of a
separate convention stipulating the payment of a sum of money, the
precaution is again observed of stating that the payment is to be
made, not as a consideration or a price or a condition precedent of
the cession, but it is carefully distinguished as being a
consequence of the cession. It was by words thus studiously chosen,
sir, that James Monroe and Thomas Jefferson marked their
understanding of a contract now misconstrued as being a bargain and
sale of sovereignty over freemen. With what indignant scorn would
those stanch advocates of the inherent right of self-government have
repudiated the slavish doctrine now deduced from their action!
How were the obligations of this treaty fulfilled? That Louisiana
at that date contained slaves held as property by her people through
the whole length of the Mississippi Valley, that those people had an
unrestricted right of settlement with their slaves under legal
protection throughout the entire ceded province, no man has ever yet
had the hardihood to deny. Here is a treaty promise to protect
their property--their slave property--in that Territory, before
it should become a State. That this promise was openly violated, in
the adjustment forced upon the South at the time of the admission of
Missouri, is a matter of recorded history. The perspicuous and
unanswerable exposition of Mr. Justice Catron, in the opinion
delivered by him in the Dred Scott case, will remain through all
time as an ample vindication of this assertion.
If then, sir, the people of Louisiana had a right, which Congress
could not deny, of the admission into the Union with all the rights
of all the citizens of the United States, it is in vain that the
partisans of the right of the majority to govern the minority with
despotic control, attempt to establish a distinction, to her
prejudice, between her rights and those of any other State. The only
distinction which really exists is this, that she can point to a
breach of treaty stipulations expressly guaranteeing her rights, as
a wrong superadded to those which have impelled a number of her
sister States to the assertion of their independence.
The rights of Louisiana as a sovereign State are those of Virginia;
no more, no less. Let those who deny her right to resume delegated
powers successfully refute the claim of Virginia to the same right,
in spite of her express reservation made and notified to her sister
States when she consented to enter the Union! And, sir, permit me to
say that, of all the causes which justify the action of the Southern
States, I know none of greater gravity and more alarming magnitude
than that now developed of the right of secession. A pretension so
monstrous as that which perverts a restricted agency constituted by
sovereign States for common purposes, into the unlimited despotism
of the majority, and denies all legitimate escape from such
despotism, when powers not delegated are usurped, converts the whole
constitutional fabric into the secure abode of lawless tyranny, and
degrades sovereign States into provincial dependencies.
It is said that the right of secession, if conceded, makes of our
government a mere rope of sand; that to assert its existence
imputes to the framers of the Constitution the folly of planting
the seeds of death in that which was designed for perpetual
existence. If this imputation were true, sir, it would merely prove
that their offspring was not exempt from that mortality which is the
common lot of all that is not created by higher than human
power. But it is not so, sir. Let facts answer theory. For
two-thirds of a century this right has been known by many of the
States to be, at all times, within their power. Yet, up to the
present period, when its exercise has become indispensable to a
people menaced with absolute extermination, there have been but two
instances in which it has been even threatened seriously; the first,
when Massachusetts led the New England States in an attempt to
escape from the dangers of our last war with Great Britain; the
second, when the same State proposed to secede on account of the
admission of Texas as a new State into the Union.
Sir, in the language of our declaration of secession from Great
Britain, it is stated as an established truth, that "all experience
has shown that mankind are more disposed to suffer while evils are
sufferable than to right themselves by abolishing the forms to which
they have been accustomed"; and nothing can be more obvious to the
calm and candid observer of passing events than that the disruption
of the Confederacy has been due, in a great measure, not to the
existence, but to the denial of this right. Few candid men would
refuse to admit that the Republicans of the North would have been
checked in their mad career had they been convinced of the existence
of this right, and the intention to assert it. The very knowledge of
its existence by preventing occurrences which alone could prompt its
exercise would have rendered it a most efficient instrument in the
preservation of the Union, But, sir, if the fact were otherwise--
if all the teachings of experience were reversed--better, far
better, a rope of sand, aye, the flimsiest gossamer that ever
glistened in the morning dew, than chains of iron and shackles of
steel; better the wildest anarchy, with the hope, the chance, of one
hour's inspiration of the glorious breath of freedom, than ages of
the hopeless bondage and oppression to which our enemies would
reduce us.
We are told that the laws must be enforced; that the revenues must
be collected; that the South is in rebellion without cause, and that
her citizens are traitors.
Rebellion! the very word is a confession; an avowal of tyranny,
outrage, and oppression. It is taken from the despot's code, and
has no terror for others than slavish souls. When, sir, did
millions of people, as a single man, rise in organized, deliberate,
unimpassioned rebellion against justice, truth, and honor? Well did
a great Englishman exclaim on a similar occasion:--
"You might as well tell me that they rebelled against the light of
heaven, that they rejected the fruits of the earth. Men do not war
against their benefactors; they are not mad enough to repel the
instincts of self-preservation. I pronounce fearlessly that no
intelligent people ever rose, or ever will rise, against a sincere,
rational, and benevolent authority. No people were ever born
blind. Infatuation is not a law of human nature. When there is a
revolt by a free people, with the common consent of all classes of
society, there must be a criminal against whom that revolt is
aimed."
Traitors! Treason! Ay, sir, the people of the South imitate and
glory in just such treason as glowed in the soul of Hampden; just
such treason as leaped in living flame from the impassioned lips of
Henry; just such treason as encircles with a sacred halo the undying
name of Washington.
You will enforce the laws. You want to know if we have a government;
if you have any authority to collect revenue; to wring tribute from
an unwilling people? Sir, humanity desponds, and all the inspiring
hopes of her progressive improvement vanish into empty air at the
reflections which crowd on the mind at hearing repeated, with
aggravated enormity, the sentiments against which a Chatham launched
his indignant thunders nearly a century ago. The very words of Lord
North and his royal master are repeated here in debate, not as
quotations, but as the spontaneous outpourings of a spirit the
counterpart of theirs.
In Lord North's speech on the destruction of the tea in Boston
harbor, he said:--
"We are no longer to dispute between legislation and taxation; we
are now only to consider whether or not we have any authority
there. It is very clear we have none, if we suffer the property of
our subjects to be destroyed. We must punish, control, or yield to
them."
And thereupon he proposed to close the port of Boston, just as the
representatives of Massachusetts now propose to close the port of
Charleston, in order to determine whether or not you have any
authority there. It is thus that, in 1861, Boston is to pay her
debt of gratitude to Charleston, which, in the days of her struggle,
proclaimed the generous sentiment that "the cause of Boston was the
cause of Charleston." Who, after this, will say that republicans
are ungrateful? Well, sir, the statesmen of Great Britain answered
to Lord North's appeal, "yield." The courtiers and the politicians
said, "punish," "control." The result is known. History gives you
the lesson. Profit by its teachings!
So, sir, in the address sent under the royal sign-manual to
Parliament, it was invoked to take measures "for better securing the
execution of the laws," and it acquiesced in the suggestion. Just as
now, a senile executive, under the sinister influence of insane
counsels, is proposing, with your assent, "to secure the better
execution of the laws," by blockading ports and turning upon the
people of the States the artillery which they provided at their own
expense for their own defense, and intrusted to you and to him for
that and for no other purpose--nay, even in States that are now
exercising the undoubted and most precious rights of a free people;
where there is no secession; where the citizens are assembling to
hold peaceful elections for considering what course of action is
demanded in this dread crisis by a due regard for their own safety
and their own liberty; aye, even in Virginia herself, the people are
to cast their suffrages beneath the undisguised menaces of a
frowning fortress. Cannon are brought to bear on their homes, and
parricidal hands are preparing weapons for rending the bosom of the
mother of Washington.
Sir, when Great Britain proposed to exact tribute from your fathers
against their will, Lord Chatham said:--
"Whatever is a man's own is absolutely his own; no man has a right
to take it from him without his consent. Whoever attempts to do it
attempts an injury. Whoever does it commits a robbery. You have no
right to tax America. I rejoice that America has resisted.
"Let the sovereign authority of this country over the colonies be
asserted in as strong terms as can be devised, and be made to extend
to every point of legislation whatever, so that we may bind their
trade, confine their manufactures, and exercise every power, except
that of taking money out of their own pockets without their
consent."
It was reserved for the latter half of the nineteenth century, and
for the Congress of a Republic of free men, to witness the willing
abnegation of all power, save that of exacting tribute. What
Imperial Britain, with the haughtiest pretensions of unlimited power
over dependent colonies, could not even attempt without the vehement
protest of her greatest statesmen, is to be enforced in aggravated
form, if you can enforce it, against independent States.
Good God, sir! since when has the necessity arisen of recalling to
American legislators the lessons of freedom taught in lisping
childhood by loving mothers; that pervade the atmosphere we have
breathed from infancy; that so form part of our very being, that in
their absence we would lose the consciousness of our own identity?
Heaven be praised that not all have forgotten them; that when we
shall have left these familiar halls, and when force bills,
blockades, armies, navies, and all the accustomed coercive
appliances of despots shall be proposed and advocated, voices shall
be heard from this side of the chamber that will make its very roof
resound with the indignant clamor of outraged freedom. Methinks I
still hear ringing in my ears the appeal of the eloquent
Representative [Hon. George H. Pendleton, of Ohio], whose Northern
home looks down on Kentucky's fertile borders: "Armies, money, blood
cannot maintain this Union; justice, reason, peace may."
And now to you, Mr. President, and to my brother Senators, on all
sides of this chamber, I bid a respectful farewell; with many of
those from whom I have been radically separated in political
sentiment, my personal relations have been kindly, and have inspired
me with a respect and esteem that I shall not willingly forget; with
those around me from the Southern States I part as men part from
brothers on the eve of a temporary absence, with a cordial pressure
of the hand and a smiling assurance of the speedy renewal of sweet
intercourse around the family hearth. But to you, noble and
generous friends, who, born beneath other skies, possess hearts that
beat in sympathy with ours; to you, who, solicited and assailed by
motives the most powerful that could appeal to selfish natures, have
nobly spurned them all; to you, who, in our behalf, have bared your
breasts to the fierce beatings of the storm, and made willing
sacrifice of life's most glittering prizes in your devotion to
constitutional liberty; to you, who have made our cause your cause,
and from many of whom I feel I part forever, what shall I, can I
say? Naught, I know and feel, is needed for myself; but this I will
say for the people in whose name I speak to-day: whether prosperous
or adverse fortunes await you, one priceless treasure is yours--
the assurance that an entire people honor your names, and hold them
in grateful and affectionate memory. But with still sweeter and
more touching return shall your unselfish devotion be rewarded.
When, in after days, the story of the present shall be written, when
history shall have passed her stern sentence on the erring men who
have driven their unoffending brethren from the shelter of their
common home, your names will derive fresh lustre from the contrast;
and when your children shall hear repeated the familiar tale, it
will be with glowing cheek and kindling eye; their very souls will
stand a-tiptoe as their sires are named, and they will glory in
their lineage from men of spirit as generous and of patriotism as
high-hearted as ever illustrated or adorned the American Senate.
SLAVERY AS ESTABLISHED BY LAW (Delivered in the United States
Senate, March 11th, 1858)
Examine your Constitution; are slaves the only species of property
there recognized as requiring peculiar protection? Sir, the
inventive genius of our brethren of the North is a source of vast
wealth to them and vast benefit to the nation. I saw a short time
ago in one of the New York journals, that the estimated value of a
few of the patents now before us in this capitol for renewal was
$40,000,000. I cannot believe that the entire capital invested in
inventions of this character in the United States can fall short of
one hundred and fifty or two hundred million dollars. On what
protection does this vast property rest? Just upon that same
constitutional protection which gives a remedy to the slave-owner
when his property is also found outside of the limits of the State
in which he lives.
Without this protection what would be the condition of the Northern
inventor? Why, sir, the Vermont inventor protected by his own law
would come to Massachusetts, and there say to the pirate who had
stolen his property, "Render me up my property, or pay me value for
its use." The Senator from Vermont would receive for answer, if he
were the counsel of this Vermont inventor: "Sir, if you want
protection for your property go to your own State; property is
governed by the laws of the State within whose jurisdiction it is
found; you have no property in your invention outside of the limits
of your State; you cannot go an inch beyond it." Would not this be
so? Does not every man see at once that the right of the inventor
to his discovery, that the right of the poet to his inspiration,
depends upon those principles of eternal justice which God has
implanted in the heart of man; and that wherever he cannot exercise
them, it is because man, faithless to the trust that he has received
from God, denies them the protection to which they are entitled?
Sir, follow out the illustration which the Senator from Vermont
himself has given; take his very case of the Delaware owner of a
horse riding him across the line into Pennsylvania. The Senator
says, "Now you see that slaves are not property, like other
property; if slaves were property like other property, why have you
this special clause in your Constitution to protect a slave? You
have no clause to protect a horse, because horses are recognized as
property everywhere." Mr. President, the same fallacy lurks at the
bottom of this argument, as of all the rest. Let Pennsylvania
exercise her undoubted jurisdiction over persons and things within
her own boundary, let her do as she has a perfect right to
do--declare that hereafter, within the State of Pennsylvania, there
shall be no property in horses, and that no man shall maintain a
suit in her courts for the recovery of property in a horse, and
where will your horse owner be then? Just where the English poet is
now; just where the slaveholder and the inventor would be if the
Constitution, foreseeing a difference of opinion in relation to
rights in these subject-matters, had not provided the remedy in
relation to such property as might easily be plundered. Slaves, if
you please, are not property like other property in this, that you
can easily rob us of them; but as to the right in them, that man has
to overthrow the whole history of the world, he has to overthrow
every treatise on jurisprudence, he has to ignore the common
sentiment of mankind, he has to repudiate the authority of all that
is considered sacred with man, ere he can reach the conclusion that
the person who owns a slave, in a country where slavery has been
established for ages, has no other property in that slave than the
mere title which is given by the statute law of the land where it is
found.
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