'ight of the 6ih of April, 1830. The Reply to Hayne 227 Second Speech on " Foot's Resolution," delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 26th and 27th of January, 1830. The Constitution not a Compact bet\veen Sovereign States 273 A Speech delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 16th of February, 1833, in Reply to Mr. Calhoun's Speech on the Bill " Further to Provide for the Collection of Duties on Imports." Public Dinner at New York 307 A Speech delivered at a Public Dinner given by a large Number of Citizens of New York, in Honor of Mr. "Webster, on March 10th, 1831. The Presidential Veto of the United States Bank Bill 320 A Speech delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 11th of July, 1832, on the President's Yeto of the Bank Bill. The Character of ^VASHINGTON 339 A Speech delivered at a Public Dinner in the City of AVa>hington, on the 22d of Ft-bruary, 1832, the Centennial Anniversary of "Washiiifjton's Birthday. Executive Patronage and Removals from Office . . 347 From a Speech delivered at the National Republican Convention, held at Worcester (Mass.), on the 12th of October, 1832. CONTENTS vil Executive Usurpation 353 From the same Speech at Worcester. The Natural Hatred op the Poor to the Rich . . . 359 From a Speech in the Senate of the United States, January Slat, 1834, on "The Removal of the Deposits." A Redeemable Paper Currency 362 From a Speech delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 22d of February, 1834. The Presidential Protest 367 A Speech delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 7th of May, 1834, on the subject of the President's Protest against the Resolution of the Senate of the 28th of March. The Appointing and Removing Power 394 Delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 1 6th of February, 1835, on the Passage of the Bill entitled *' An Act to Repeal the First and Second Sections of the Act to limit the Term of Service of certain Officers therein named." On the Loss of the Fortification Bill in 1835 . . . 407 A Speech delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 14th of January, 1836, on Mr. Benton's Resolutions for Appropriating the Surplus Revenue to National Defence. Reception at New York 422 A Speech delivered at Niblo's Saloon, in New York, on the loth of March, 1837. Slavery in the District of Columbia 44i) Remarks made in the Senate of the United States, on tlie 10th of January, 1838, upon a Resolution moved by Mr. Clay as a Sub- stitute for the Resolution offered by Mr. Calhoun on the Subject of Slavery in the District of Columbia. The Credit System and the Labor of the United States *lt9 From the Second Speech on the Sub-Treasury, delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 12th of March, 1838. yi{{ CONTENTS. Remarks on the Political Course of Mr. Calhoun, in 1838 453 From the same Speech. Reply to ]\Ir. Calhoun 458 A Speech delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 22J of March, 1838, in Answer to Mr. Calhoun. A Uniform System of Bankruptcy 471 From a Speech delivered in the Senate of the United State?, on the 18th of May, 1840, on the proposed Amendment to the Bill estab- lishing a Uniform System of Bankruptcy. " The Log Cabin Candidate " 476 F'rom a Speech delivered at the great Mass Meeting at Saratoga, New York, on the 12th of August, 1840. Address to the Ladies of Richmond 478 Remarks at a Public Reception by the Ladies of Richmond, Virginia, on the 5th of October, 1840. Reception at Boston 481 A Speech made in Faneuil Hall, on the 30th of September, 1842, at a Public Reception given to !Mr. Webster, on his Return to Boston, after the Negotiation of the Treaty of "Washington. The Landing at Ply]siouth 496 A Speech delivered on the 22d of December, 1843, at the Public Dinner of the New England Society of New York, in Commemo- ration of the Landing of the Pilgrims. The Christian jNIinistry and the Religious Instruc- tion of the Young 505 A Speech delivered in the Supreme Court at "Washington, on the 20th of February, 1844, in the Girard Will Case. Mr. Justice Story 532 The Rhode Island Government 535 An Arirument made in the Supreme Court of the United States, on the 27th of January, 1848, in the Dorr Rebellion Cases. Objects of the Mexican War 551 A Speech delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 23d of !March, 1848, on the Bill from the House of Representatives for raising a Loan of Sixteen Millions of Dollars. CONTENTS. ix Exclusion of Slavery from the Territories .... 669 Remarks made in the Senate of the United States, on the 12th of August, 1848. Speech at Marshfield 575 Delivered at a Meeting of the Citizens of Marshfield, Mass., on the 1st of September, 1848. Jereahah Mason 589 Kossuth 598 From a Speech delivered in Boston, on the 7th of November, 1849, at a Festival of the Natives of New Hampshire established in Massachusetts. The Constitution and the Union 600 A Speech delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 7th of March, 1850. Reception at Buffalo 626 A Speech delivered before a large Assembly of the Citizens of Buffalo and the County of Erie, at a Public Reception, on the 22d of May, 1851. The Addition to the Capitol 63l> An Address delivered at the Laying of the Corner-Stone of the Addi- tion to the Capitol, on the 4th of July, 1851. APPENDIX. Impressment 655 The Right of Search 660 Letters to General Cass on the Treaty of Wash- ington QQQ The HiJLSEMANN Letter 678 DANIEL WEBSTER AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. FROM my own experience and observation I should say that every boy, who is ready enough in spelling, grammar, geograpliy, and arithmetic, is appalled when he is commanded to write what is termed " a composition." When he enters college the same fear follows him • and the Pi-ofessor of Rhetoric is a more terrible personage to his imag- ination than the Professors of Greek, Latin, Mathematics, and Moral and Intellectual Philosophy. Both boys at school and young men i n college show no lack o f pow er Ih speaking their native language withaxahemence and fluency which almost stuns the ears of their seniors. Why, then, should they find such difficulty in^writing it? When you listen to the animated talk of a bright school-boy or college student, full of a subject which really interests him, you say at once that such command of racy and idiomatic English words must of course be exhibited in his " compositions " or his " themes " ; but when the latter are examined, they are commonly found to be feeble and lifeless, with hardly a thought or a word which bears any stamp of freshness or originality, and which are so inferior to his ordinary con- versation, that we can hardly believe they came from the same mind. The first quality which strikes an examiner of these exercises in English composition is their falseness. No boy or youth wi-ites what he personallyjbhinks and feels, but wi-ites what a good boy or youth is exgefitfidltQ- think or feel. This hypocrisy vjtiates his wi-iting f rom first to last, and is not absent in his " Class Ojatioh," or m his "Speech at Commencement." I have a vivid memory of the first time the boys of my class, in a public school, were called upon to write •• composition." The themes selected -were the promintiu moral virtues or vices. How we poor innocent urchins were tormented by the task imposed upon us ! How we put more ink on our liaiids and faces than we shed upon the white paper on our desks ! Our conclu- Bions generally agreed ^vlth those announced by tlie greatest moralists xii DANIEL WEBSTER of tlie world. Socrates and Plato, Cicero and Seneca, Cud worth and BuHer, could not have been more austerely moral than were we little rogues, as we relieved the immense exertion involved in completing a single short baby-like sentence, by shying at one companion a rule, or hurling at another a paper pellet intended to light plump on hia forehead or nose. Our custom was to begin every composition with the proposition that such or such a virtue " was one of the greatest blessings we enjoy " ; and this triumph of accurate statement was not discovered by our teacher to be purely mechanical, until one juvenile thinker, having avarice to deal with, declared it to be " one of the greatest evils we enjoy." The whole thing was such a piece of monstrous hypocrisy, that I once timidly suggested to the school- master that it would be well to allow me to select my own subject. The request was granted ; and, as narrative is the natural form of com position which a boy adopts when he has his own way, I filled, in less than half the time heretofore consumed in writing a quarter of a page, four pages of letter-paper with an account of my being in a ship taken by a pirate ; of the heroic defiance I launched at the pirate captain ; and the sagacity I evinced in escaping the fate of my fellow-passen- gers, in not being ordered to " walk the plank." The story, though trashy enough, was so much better than any of the moral essays of the other pupils, that the teacher commanded me to read it before the whole school, as an evidence of the rapid strides I had made in the art of " composition." This falseness of thought and feeling is but too apt to characterize the writing of the student, after he has passed from the common school to the academy or the college. The term " Sophomorical " is jised to describe speeches which are full of emotion which the speaker does not feel, full of words in four or five syllables that mean nothing, and, in respect to imagery and illustrations, blazing with the cheap jewelry of rhetoric, — with those rubies and diamonds that can be pur- chased for a few pennies an oun ce. The danger is that this ' Soph- omorical " style may continue to afflict the student after he has be- come a clergyman, a lawyer, or a legislator. Practical men who may not be " college educated " still have the great virtue of using the few words they employ as identical with facts. When they meet a man who has half the dictionary at his disposal, and yet gives no evidence of apprehending the real import and mean- ing of one word among the many thousands he glibly pours forth, they naturally distrust him, as a person who does not know the vital connection of all good words with the real things they represent AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. xiu luileed, the Ls, he is in danger of learning early that trick of falsehood, which XXV iii DANIEL WEBSTER clino-.s to biin when he jjoes to school, when he leaves the school for the college, and when he leaves the college for the pursuits of profes- sional life. The farmer or mechanic, not endowed with " college larnin'," is sure to become a bad declaimer, perhaps a demagogue, when he abandons those natural illustrations and ornaments of his speech which spring from his individual experience, and strives to emulate the grandiloquence of those graduates of colleges who have the heathen mythology at the ends of their fingers and tongues, and -''an refer to Jove, Juno, Minerva, Diana, Venus, Vulcan, and Neptune, as though they were resident deities and deesses of the college halls. The trouble with most "uneducated" orators is, that they become enamored of these shining gods and goddesses, after they have lost, through repetition, all of their old power to give point or force to any o-ood sentence of modern oratory. During the times when, to be a speaker at Abolitionist meetings, the speaker ran the risk of being pelted with rotten eggs, I happened to be present, as one of a small antislavery audience, gathered in an equally small hall. Among the speakers was an honest, strong-minded, warm-hearted young mechanic, who, as long as he was true to his theme, spoke earnestly, manfully, and well ; but alas ! he thought he could not close without calling in some god or goddess to give emphasis — after the method of college students — to his previous statements. He selected, of course, that un- fortunate phantom whom he called the Goddess of Liberty. " Here, in Boston," he thundered, " where she was cradled in Faneuil Hall, can it be that Liberty should be trampled under foot, when, after two genera- tions have passed, — yes, sir, have elapsed, — she has grown — yes, sir, [ repeat it, has grown — grown up, sir, into a great man ? " The change in sex was, in this case, more violent than usual; but how many instances occur to everybody's recollection, where that poor Goddess has been almost equally outraged, through a puerile ambition on the part of the orator to endow her with an exceptional distinction by senseless rhodomontade, manufactured by the word-machine which he presumes to call his imagination ! All imitative imagery is the grave of common-sense. Now let us pass to an imagination which is, perhaps, the grandest in American oratory, but which was as perfectly natural as that of the " cold molasses," or " God's llat-iron," of the New England farmer, — as natural, indeed, as the " sky-blue, God's color," of the New England boy. Daniel Webster, standing on the heights of Quebec at an early hour of a summer morning, heard the onlinary morning drum-beat which called the garrison to their duty. Knowing that the British AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. XX15 possessions belted the globe, the thought occurred to him that the morning drum would go on beating in some English post to the time when it would sound again in Quebec. Afterwards, in a speech on President Jackson's Protest, he dwelt on the fact that our Revohi tionary forefathers engaged in a war with Great Britain on a strict question of principle, " while actual suffering was still afar off." IIow could he give most effect to this statement ? It would have been easy for him to have presented statistical tables, showing the wealth- population, and resources of England, followed by an enumeration of her colonies and military stations, all goini' to prove the enormous strencTth of the nation against which the United American colonies raised their improvised flag. But the thought which had heretofore occurred to him at Quebec happily recurred to his mind the moment it was needed ; and he flashed on the imagination an image of Bi itish power which no statistics could have conveyed to the understanding, — "a Power," he said, "which has dotted over the surface of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts, wdiose morning drum beat, following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England." Perhaps a mere rhetorician might consider superfluous the word " whole," as applied to " globe," and " unbroken," as follow^ ing " continuous"; yet they really add to the force and majesty of the expression. It is curious that, in Great Britain, this magnificent im- personation of the power of England is so little known. It is certain that it is unrivalled in British patriotic oratory. Not Chatham, not even Burke, ever approached it in the noblest passages in which they celebrated the greatness and glory of their country. Webster, it is to be noted, introduced it in his speech, not for the purpose of exalt- ing England, but of exalting our Revolutionary forefathers, whose victory, after a seven years' war of terrible severity, waged in vin- dication of a principle, was made all the more glorious from having been w^on over an adversary so formidable and so vast. It is reported that, at the conclusion of this speech on the Presi- dent's Protest, John Sergeant, of Philadelphia, came up to the ciator, and, after cordially shaking hands with him, eagerly asked, " Where, Webster, did you get that idea of the morning drum-beat?" Like other public men, accustomed to address legislative assemblies, he waa naturally desirous of knowing the place, if place there was, where such imasres and illustrations were to be found. The truth was that, if .Webster had ever read Goethe's Faust, — which he of course never had done, — he might have referred his old friend to that passage KXX DANIEL WEBSTER where Faust, gazing at the setting sun, aches to follow it in its course for ever. " See," he exclaims, "• how the green-girt cottages shimmer in the setting sun. He bends and sinks, — the day is outlived. Yonder he hurries off, and quickens other life. Oh, that I have no Anng to lift me fnjm the ground, to struggle after — for ever after — him ! I should see, in everlasting evening beams, the stilly world at my feet, every height on fire, every vale in repose, the silver brook flowing into golden streams. The rugged mountain, with all its dark defiles, would not then break my godlike course. Already the sea, with its heated bays, opens on my enraptured sight. Yet the god seems at last to sink away. But the new impulse wakes. I hurry on to drink his everlasting light, — the day before me and the night behind, — and under me the waves." In Faust, the wings of the mind follow the setting sun ; in Webster, they follow the rising sun ; but the thought of each circumnavigates the globe, in joyous companionship with the same centre of life, light, and heat, — though the suggestion which prompts the sublime idea is widely different. The sentiment of Webster, calmly meditating on the heights of Quebec, contrasts strangely with the fiery feeling of Faust, raging against the limitations of his mortal existence. A humorist, Charles Dickens, who never read either Goethe or Webster, has oddly seized on the same general idea : " The British enfpire," he says, in one of his novels, — " on which the sun never sets, and where the tax-gatherer never goes to bed." This celebrated imaereof the British "drum-beat" is here cited sim- ply to indicate the natural way in which all the faculties of Webster are brought into harmonious co-operation, whenever he seriously discusses any great question. His understanding and imagination, when both are roused into action, always cordially join hands. His statement of facts is so combined with the argument founded on them, that they are interchangeable ; his statement having the force of argument, and his argument having the " substantiality " which pi-operly belongs to statement ; and to these he commonly adds an inuiginative illustration, which gives increased reality to both statement and argument. Iii rapidly turning over the leaves of the six volumes of his Works, one can easily find numerous instances of this instinctive operation of his mind. In his first Bunker Hill oration, he announces that ."the prin- ciple of free governments adheres to the American soil. It is bedded in it, immovable as its mountains." Again he says: "A call for the representative system, wherever it is not enjoyed, and where there is already intelligence enough to estimate its value, is perseveiingly made. Where men may speak out, they demand it • where the bayoret AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. XXXI is at their throats, they pray for it." And yet again: "If ilie true spark of religious and civil liberty be kindled, it will burn. Human agency cannot extinguish it. Like the earth's central fire, it may be smothered for a time; the ocean may overwhelm it; mountains may press it down ; but its inherent and unconquerable force will heave both the ocean and the land, and at some time or other, in some place or other, the volcano will break out, and flame up to heaven." It would be difficult to find in any European literature a similar embodiment of an elemental sentiment of humanity, in an image which is as elemental as the sentiment to which it gives vivid expression. And then with what majesty, with what energy, and with what simplicity, can he denounce a political transaction which, had it not attracted his ire, would hardly have survived in the memory of his countrymen ! Thus, in his Protest against Mr. Benton's Expunging Resolution, speaking for himself and his Senatorial colleague, he says : " We rescue our own names, character, and honor from all participation in this matter ; and, Avhatever the wayw^ard character of the times, the headlong and plunging spirit of party devotion, or the fear or the love of power, may have been able to bring about elscAvhere, we desire to thank God that they have not, as yet, overcome the love of liberty, fidelity to true republican principles, and a sacred regard for the Constitution- in that State whose soil was drenched to a mire by the first and best blood of the Revolution." Perhaps the peculiar power of Webster in condemning a measure by a felicitous epithet, such as that he employs in describing " the plunging spirit of party devotion," was never more happily exercised. In that word " \)\nn- ging," he intended to condense all his horror and hatred of a transaction which he supposed calculated to throw the true principles of constitu- tional government into a bottomless abyss of personal government, where right constitutional principles would cease to have existence, as well as cease to have authority. There is one passage in his oration at the completion of the Bunker Hill Monument, which may be quoted as an illustration of his power of compact statement, and which, at the same time, may save readers from the trouble of reading many excellent histories of the origin and progress of the Spanish dominion in America, condensing, as it does, all which such histories can tell us in a few smiting sentences. " Spain," he says, " stooped on South America, like a vulture on its prey. Every thing was force. Territories were acquired by fire and Bword. Cities were destroyed by fire and sword. Hundreds of thou- sands of human beings fell by fire and sword. Even conversion to XXXll DANIEL WEBSTER Christianity was attempted by fire and sword." One is reminded, in this passage, of Macaulay's metliod of giving vividness to his confident generalization of facts by emphatic repetitions of the same form of ■words. The repetition of "fire and* sword," in this series of short, sharp sentences, ends in forcing the reality of what the words mean on the dullest imagination ; and the climax is capped by affirming that "fire and sword" were the means by which the religion of peace was recommended to idolaters, whose heathenism was more benignant, and more intrinsically Christian, than the militai-y Christianity which was forced upon them. And then, again, how easily Webster's imagination slips in, at the end of a comparatively bald enumeration of the benefits of a good government, to vitalize the statements of his understanding ! " Every- where," he says, " there is order, everywhere there is security. Every- where the law reaches to the highest, and reaches to the lowest, to protect all in their rights, and to restrain all from Avrong; and over all hovers liberty, — that liberty for which our fathers fought and fell on this very spot, with her eye ever watchful, and her eagle wing ever wide outspread." There is something astonishing in the dignity given in the last clause of this sentence to the American eagle, — a bird so degraded by the rhodomontade of fifth-rate declaimers, that it seemed impossible that the highest genius and patriotism could restore it to its primacy among the inhabitants of the air, and its just eminence as a symbol of American liberty. It is also to be noted, that Webster here alludes to " the bird of freedom " only as it appears on the American silver dollar that passes daily from hand to hand, where the watchful eye and the outspread wing are so inartistically repre- sented that the critic is puzzled to account for the grandeur of the image wliich the orator contrived to evolve from the barbaric picture on the ugliest and clumsiest of civilized coins. The compactness of Webstei-'s statements occasionally reminds us of the epigrammatic point which characterizes so many of the state- ments of Burke. Thus, in presenting a memorial to Congress, signed by many prominent men of business, against President Jackson's sys- tem of finance, he saw at once that the Democrats would denounce it as another manifesto of the "moneyed aristocracy." Accordingly Webster introduced the paper to the attention of the Senate, with the preliminary remark : " The memorialists are not unaware, that, if rights are attacked, attempts will be made to render odious those whose rights are violated. Power always seeks such subjects en which to try its experiments." It is difficult to resist the impression AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. XXXill that Webster must have been indebted to Burke for this maxim. Again, we are dehided into the belief that Ave must be reading Burke, when Webster refers to the minimum principle as the right one to be followed in imposing duties on certain manufactures. " It lays the impost," he says, " exactly where it will do good, and leaves the rest free. It is an intelligent, discerning, discriminating principle ; not a blind, headlong, generalizing, uncalculating operation. Simplicity, undoubtedly, is a great beauty in acts of legislation, as well as in the works of art ; but in both it must be a simplicity resulting from con- gruity of parts and adaptation to the end designed ; not a rude gener- alization, which either leaves the particular object unaccomplished, or, in accomplishing it, accomplishes a dozen others also, which were not desired. It is a simplicity wrought out by knowledge and skill ; not the rough product of an undistinguishing, sweeping general principle." An insenuous reader, who has not learned from his historical studies that men generally act, not from arguments addressed to their under- standings, but from vehement appeals which rouse their passions to defend their seeming interests, cannot comprehend why Webster's arguments against Nullification and Secession, which were apparently unanswerable, and which were certainly unanswered either by Hayne or Calhoun, should not have settled the question in debate between the North and the South. Such a reader, after patiently following all the turns and twists of the logic, all the processes of the reasoning employed on both sides of the intellectual contest, would naturally conclude that the pai-ty defeated in the conflict would gracefully acknowledge the fact of its defeat ; and, as human beings, gifted with the faculty of reason, would cheerfully admit the demonstrated results of its exercise. He would find it difficult to comprehend why the men who were overcome in a fair gladiatorial strife in the open ai-ena of debate, with brain pitted against brain, and manhood against man- hood, should resort to the rough logic of " blood and iron," when the nobler kind of logic, that which is developed in the struggle of mind with mind, had failed to accomplish the purposes which their hearts and wills, independent of their understandings, were bent on accom- plishing. It may be considered certain that so wise a statesman as Webster — a statesman whose foresight was so palpably the consequence of his insight, and whose piercing intellect was so admirably adapted to read events in their principles — never indulged in such illusions as those which cheered so many of his own adherents, when they supposed his triumph in argumentation was to settle a matter which was really based KXX'V DANIEL WEBSTER on oro-anic differences in the institutions of tbe two sections of the Union. He knew perfectly well that, while the Webster men were glor^nng in his victory over Calhoun, the Calhoun men were equally jubilant in celebrating Calhoun's victory over him. Which of thera had the better in the argument was of little importance in comparison with the terrible fact that the people of the Southern States were ■widening, year by year, the distance which separated them from the people of the Northern States. We have no means of judging whether Webster clearly foresaw the frightful civil war between the two sections, which followed so soon after his own death. We only know that, to him, it w^as a conflict constantly impending, and which could be averted for the time only by compromises, concessions, and other temporary expedients. Tf he allowed his mind to pass from the pressing questions of the hour, and to consider the radical division between the two sections of the country which were only formally united, it would seem that he must have felt, as long as the institution of negro slavery existed, that he was only laboring to postpone a con- flict which it -was impossible for him to prevent. But my present purpose is simply to indicate the felicity of Web- ster's intrepid assault on the principles which the Southern disunionists put forward in justification of their acts, Mr. Calhoun's favorite idea was this, — that Nullification was a conservative principle, to be exercised within the Union, and in accordance with a just interpreta- tion of the Constitution. "To begin with nullification," Webster retorted, " with the avowed intent, nevertheless, not to proceed to secession, dismemberment, and general revolution, is as if one were to take the plunge of Niagara, and cry out that he would stop half- way do^vn. In the one case, as in the other, the rash adventurer must go to the bottom of the dark abyss below, Avere it not that the abyss has no discovered bottom." How admirable also is his exposure of the distinction attempted to be drawn between secession, as a State right to be exercised under the provisions of what was called "the Constitutional Compact." and revolution. " Secession," he says, " as a revolutionary right, is intelli- gible ; as a right to be proclaimed in the midst of civil commotions, and asserted at the head of armies, I can understand it. But aa a practical right, existing under the Constitution, and in conformity with its provisions, it seems to me nothing but a plain absurdity; for it supposes resistance to government, under the authority of government itself; it supposes dismemberment, without violating the principles of union ; it supposes opposition to law, witliout AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. XXXV crime , it supposes the total overthrow of government, without revo- lution." After putting some pertinent interrogatories — which are arguments in themselves — relating to the inevitable results of secession, he adds, that " every man must see that these are all questions which can arise only after a revolution. They presuppose the breakiug up of the gov- ernment. While the Constitution lasts, they are repressed"; — and then, with that felicitous use of the imagination as a handmaid of the understanding, which is the peculiar characteristic of his eloquence, he closes the sentence by saying, that "they spring up to annoy and startle us only from its grave," A mere reasoner would have stopped at the word " repressed " ; the instantaneous conversion of " ques- tions " into spectres, affrighting and annoying us as they spring up from the grave of the Constitution, — which is also by implication impersonated, — is the work of Webster's ready imagination ; and it thoroughly vitalizes the statements which precede it. A great test of the sincerity of a statesman's style is his moderation. Now, if we take the whole body of Mr. Webster's speeches, whether delivered in the Senate or before popular assemblies, during the period of his opposition to President Jackson's administration, we may well be surprised at their moderation of tone and statement. Every- body old enough to recollect the singular virulence of political speech at that period must remember it as disgraceful equally to the national conscience and the national understanding. The spirit of party, always sufficiently fierce and unreasonable, was then stimulated into a fury resembling madness. Almost every speaker, Democrat or Whig, was in that state of passion which is represented by the physical sign of " foaming at the mouth." Few mouths then opened that did not imme- diately begin to " foam." So many fortunes were suddenly wrecked by President Jackson's financial policy, and the business of the country was so disastrously disturbed, that, whether the policy was right or wronjx, those who assailed and those who defended it seemed to be equally devoid of common intellectual honesty. " I do well to be angry," appears to have been the maxim which inspired Democratic and Whiof orators alike : and what reason there was on either side was sub- mersfed in the lies and libels, in the calumnies and caricatures, in the defamations and execrations, which accompanied the citation of facts and the affirmation of principles. Webster, during all this time, was selected as a shining mark, at which every puny writer or speaker who opposed him hurled his small or large contribution of verbal rotten eggs ; and yet Webster was almost the only Whig statesman yxxvi DANIEL WEBSTER who preserved sanity of understanding during the whole progress ct that political riot, in which the passions of men became the masters of their understandings. Pious Whig fathers, who worshipped tlie "godlike Daniel," went almost to the extent of teaching their chil- dren to curse Jackson in their prayers ; equally pious Democratic fathers brought up their sons and daughters to anathematize the fiend- like Daniel as the enemy of human rights ; and yet, in reading Web- ster's speeches, covering the whole space between 1832 and 1836, we can hardly find a statement which an historian of our day would not admit as a candid generalization of facts, or an argument which would not stand the test of logical examination. Such an historian might entirely disagree with the opinions of Webster ; but he would cer- tainly award to him the praise of being an honest reasoner and an honest rhetorician, in a time when reason was used merely as a tool of party passion, and when rhetoric rushed madly into the worst excesses of rhodomontade. It is also to be said that Webster rarely indulged in personalities. When we consider how great were his powers of sarcasm and invec- tive, how constant were the provocations to exercise them furnished by his political enemies, and how atrociously and meanly allusions to his private affairs were brought into discussions which should have been confined to refuting his reasoning, his moderation in this matter is to be ranked as a great virtue. He could not take a glass of wine without the trivial fact being announced all over the country as indis- putable i^roof that he was an habitual drunkard, though the most remarkable characteristic of his speeches is their temperance, — their '• total abstinence " from all the intoxicating moral and mental " drinks " which confuse the understanding and mislead the con- science. He could not borrow money on his note of hand, like any other citizen, without the circumstance being trumpeted abroad as incontrovertible evidence that Nick Biddle had paid him that sura to defend his diabolical Bank in the Senate of the United States. The plain fact that his speeches were confined strictly to the exposi tion and defence of sound opinions on trade and finance, and that it was difficult to answer them, only confirmed his opponents in the conviction that old Nick was at the bottom of it all. His great intel- lect was admitted ; but on the high, broad brow, which was its mani- festation to the eye, his enemies pasted the words, " To be let," or, " For sale." The more impersonal he became in his statements and arguments, the more trucuk^itly was he assailed by the personalities of the political gossip and scandal-monger. Indeed, from the time he AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. XXXVll first came to the front as a great lawyer, statesman, and patriot, he was fixed upon by the whole crew of party libellers as a man whose arguments could be answered most efficiently by staining his char- acter. He passed through life with his head enveloped " in a cloud of poisonous flies " ; and the head was the grandest-looking head that had ever been seen on the American continent. It was so pre-eminently noble and impi-essive, and promised so much more than it could possi- bly perform, that only one felicitous sarcasm of party malice, amon^ many thousands of bad jokes, has escaped oblivion ; and that was stolen from Charles Fox's remark on Lord Chancellor Thurlow, as Fox once viewed him sitting on the wool-sack, frowning on the English House of Lords, which he dominated by the terror of his countenance, and by the fear that he might, at any moment, burst forth in one of his short bullying, thundering retorts, should any comparatively weak baron, earl, marquis, or duke dare to oppose him. "■ Thurlow," said Fox, " must be an impostor, for nobody can be as wise as he looks." The American version of this was, " Webster must be a charlatan, for no one can be as great as he looks." But during all the time that his antagonists attempted to elude the force of his arguments by hunting up the evidences of his debts, and by trying to show that the most considerate, the most accurate, and the most temperate of his lucid statements were the products of physical stimulants, Webster steadily kept in haughty reserve his power of retaliation. In his speech in reply to Hayne he hinted that, if he were imperatively called upon to meet blows with blows, he might be found fully equal to his antagonists in that ignoble province of intellectual pugilism ; but that he preferred the more civilized struggle of brain •with brain, in a contest which was to decide questions of principle. In the Senate, where he could meet his political opponents face to face, few dared to venture to degrade the subject in debate from the discussion of principles to the miserable subterfuge of imputiufy bad motives as a sufficient answer to good arguments ; but still many of these dignified gentlemen smiled approval on the efforts of the low- minded, small-minded caucus-speakers of their party, when they declared that Webster's logic was unworthy of consideration, because he was bought by the Bank, or bought by the manufacturers of Massa- chusetts, or bought by some other combination of persons who were supposed to be the deadl}' enemies of the laboring men of the country. On some rare occasions Webster's wrath broke out in such smitinor words that his adversaries were cowed into silence, and cursed the infatuation which had led them to overlook the fact that the " Ionic* Xxxviii DANIEL WEBSTER machine" liad in it invectives more terrible than iti reasonings. Bui generally he refrained from using the giant's power "like a giant"; and it is almost pathetic to remember that, when Mr. Everett un- dertook to edit, in 1851, the standard edition of his woiks, Webster gave directions to expunge all peri5onalitieb from his speeches, even when those personalities were the just punishment of unprovoked attacks on his integrity as a man. Readers will look in vain, in this edition of his works, for some of the most pungent passages which originally attracted their attention in the first report of the Defence of the Treaty of Washington. At the time these directions were given, Webster was himself the object of innumerable personalities, which were the natural, the inevitable results of his speech of the 7th of March, 1850. It seems to be a law, that the fame of all public men shall be " half disfame." We are specially warned to beware of the man of whom all men speak well. Burke, complimenting his friend Fox for risking every thing, even his " darling popularity," on the success of the East India Bill, nobly says : " He is traduced and abused for his sup- posed motives. He will remember, that obloquy is a necessary ingre- dient in all true glory ; he will remember, that it was not only in the Roman customs, but it is in the nature of Imman things, that calumny and abuse are essential parts of triumph." It may be said, however, that Webster's virtue in this general abstinence from personalities is to be offset by the fact that he could throw into a glance of his eye, a contortion of his face, a tone of his voice, or a simple gesture of his hand, more scorn, contempt, and hatred than ordinary debaters could express by the profuse use of all the scurrilous terms in the English language. Probably many a sen- tence, which we now read with an even pulse, was, as originally deliv- ered, accompanied by such pointing of the finger, or such flashing of the eye, or such raising of the voice, that the seemingly innocent ■words were poisoned arrows that festered in the souls of those against whom they were directed, and made deadly enemies of a number of persons Avhom he seems, in his printed speeches, never to have men- tioned without the respect due from one Senator to another. In his speech in defence of the Treaty of Washington, he had to repel Mr. Ingersoll's indecent attack on his integrity, and his dreadful retoit is described by those who heard it as coming within the rules which condemn cruelty to animals. But the '' noble rage " which prompted him to indulge in such unwonted invective subsided with the occasion that called it forth, and he was careful to have it expunged when the AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. XXxix speech was reprinted. An eminent jiul^e of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts, in commending the general dignity and courtesy which characterized Webster's conduct of a case in a court of law, noted one exception. " When," he said, " the opposite counsel had got him into a corner, the way he ' trampled out ' was something frightful to behold. The court itself could hardly restrain him in his gigantic efforts to extricate himself from the consequences of a blunder or an oversiglit." Great writers and orators are commonly economists in the use of words. They compel common words to bear a burden of thought and emotion, which mere rhetoricians, with all the resources of the lan- guage at their disposal, would never dream of imposing upon them. But it is also to be observed, that some writers have the power of giving a new and special significance to a common word, by impressing on it a wealth of meaning which it cannot claim for itself. Three obvious examples of this peculiar power may be cited. Among poets, Chaucer infused into the simple word " green " a poetic ecstasy which no succeeding English poet, not even Wordsworth, lias ever rivalled, in describing an English landscape in the month of May. Jonathan Edwards fixed upon the term " sweetness " as best conveying his loftiest conception of the bliss which the soul of the saint can attain to on earth, or expect to be blessed witli in heaven ; but not one of his theological successors has ever caught the secret of using " sweetness " in the sense attached to it by him. Dr. Barrow gave to the word " rest," as embodying his idea of the spiritual repose of the soul fit for heaven, a significance which it bears in the works of no other great English divine. To descend a little, Webster was fond of certain words, commonplace enough in themselves, to which he insisted on imparting a more than ordinary import. Two of these, which meet us contin- ually in reading his speeches, are "interesting" and "respectable." The first of these appears to him competent to express that rapture of attention called forth by a thing, an event, or a person, which other writers convey by such a term as " absorbing," or its numerous Gfjuivalents. If we should select one passage from his works which, more than any other, indicates his power of seeing and feeling, through a process of purely imaginative vision and sympathy, it is that portion of his Plymouth oration, where he places himself and his audience as spectators on tlie barren shore, when the Mayfloiver came into view. He speaks of " the interesting group upon the deck " of the little vessel. The very word suggests that we are to have a very common- place account of the landing, and the circumstances which followed it. In an instant, however, we are made to " feel the cold which DANIEL WEBSTER benumbed, and listen to the winds which pierced " this " interesting '' group ; and immediately after, the picture is flashed upon the imagi- nation of "chilled and shivering childhood, houseless, but for a mother's arms, couchless, but for a mother's breast," — an image which shows that the orator had not only transported himself into a spectator of the scene, but had felt his own blood " almost freeze " in intense sympathy with the physical sufferings of the shelterless mothers and children. There is no word which the novelists, satirists, philanthropic reformers, and Bohemians of our day have done so much to discredit, and make dis-respectable to the heart and the imagination, as the word " respectable." Webster always uses it as a term of eulog}'. A respectable man is, to his mind, a person who performs all his du- ties to his family, his country, and his God ; a person who is not only virtuous, but who has a clear perception of the relation which con- nects one virtue with another by " the golden thread " of moderation, and who, whether he be a man of genius, or a business man of average talent, or an intelligent mechanic, or a farmer of sound moral and mental character, is to be considered " respectable " because he is one of those citizens whose intelligence and integrity constitute the foun- dation on which the Republic rests. As late as 1843, in his noble oration on the completion of the Bunker Hill Monument, he declared that if our American institutions had done nothing more than to pro- duce the character of Washington, that alone would entitle them to the respect of mankind. " Washington is all our own I ... I Avould cheerfully put the question to-day to the intelligence of Europe and the world, what character of the century, upon the whole, stands out in the relief of history, most pure, most respectable^ most sublime ; and I doubt not, that, by a suffrage approaching to unanimity, the answer would be Washington ! " It is needless to quote other instances of the peculiar meaning he put into the word " respectable," when we thus find him challenging the Europe of the eighteenth century to name a match for Washington, and placing "most respectable" after '^ most pure," and immediately preceding " most sublime," in his enumera- tion of tlie three qualities in which Washington surpassed all men of bis century. It has been often remarked that Webster adapted his style, even his habits of mind and modes of reasoning, to the particular auditors he desired to influence ; but that, whether he addressed an unorganized crowd of people, or a jury, or a bench of judges, or the Senate of the United States, he ever proved himself an orator of the first class. AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. xli His admirers commonly confine tliemselves to the admirable sagacity with which he discriminated between the kind of reasoning proper to be employed when he addressed courts and juries, and the kind of reasoning which is most effective in a legislative assembly. The lawyer and the statesman were, in Webster, kept distinct, except so far as he was a lawyer Avho had argued before the Supreme Court questions of constitutional law. An amusing instance of this abne- gation of the lawyer, while incidentally bringing in a laAvyer'a knowledge of judicial decisions, occurs in a little episode in his debate with Mr. Calhoun, in 1849, as to the relation of Congress to the Territories. Mr. Calhoun said that he had been told that the Supi'eme Court of the United States had decided, in one case, that the Constitution did not extend to the Territories, but that he was "incredulous of the fact." "Oh!" replied Mr. Webster, "I can remove the gentleman's incredulity very easily, for I can assure him that the same thing has been decided by the United States courts over and over again for the last thirty years." It will be observed, how- ever, that Mr. Webster, after communicating this important item of information, proceeded to discuss the question as if the Supreme Court had no existence, and bases his argument on the plain terms of the Constitution, and the plain facts recorded in the history of the government established by it. Macaulay, in his lively way, has shown the difficulty of manufactur- ing English statesmen out of English lawyers, though, as lawyers, their rank in the profession may be very high. " Their arguments," he says, " are intellectual pi'odigies, abounding with the happiest analogies and the most refined distinctions. The principles of their arbitrary science being once admitted, the statute-books and the reports being once assumed as the foundations of reasoning, these men must be allowed to be perfect masters of logic. But if a question arises as to the pos- tulates on which their whole system rests, if they are called upon to vindicate the fundamental maxims of that system which they have passed their lives in studying, these very men often talk the largu.age of savages or of children. Those who have listened to a man of this class in his own court, and who have witnessed the skill with which he analyzes and digests a vast mass of evidence, or reconciles a crowd of precedents which at first sight seem contradictoiy, scarcely know him again when, a few hours later, they hear him speaking on the other side of Westminster Hall in his capacity of legislator. They can scarcely believe that the paltry quirks which are faintly heard through a storm of coughing, and which do not impose on the plainest ilii I7ANIEL WEBSTER country gentleman, can proceed from the same sharp and \'igorou3 intellect which had excited their admiration under the same roof, and on the same day." And to this keen distinction between an English lawyer, and an English lawyer as a member of the House of Commons, may be added the peculiar kind of stmxly manliness which is demanded in any person who aims to take a leading part in Parliamentary debates. Erskine, probably tlie greatest advocate who ever appeared in the English courts of law, made but a comparatively poor figure in the House of Commons, as a member of the Whig opposition. " The truth is, Erskine," Sheridan once said to him, '' you are afraid of Pitt, and that is the flabby part of your character." But Macaulay, in another article, makes a point against the leaders of party themselves. His definition of Parliamentary government is "government by speaking" ; and he declares that the most effective speakers are commonly ill-informed, shallow in thought, devoid of large ideas of legislation, hazarding the loosest speculations with the utmost intellectual impudence, and depending for success on volubility of speech, rather than on accuracy of knowledge or penetration of intelligence. " The tendency of institutions like those of England," he adds, " is to encourage readiness in public men, at the expense both of fulness and of exactness. The keenest and most vigorous minds of every generation, minds often admirably fitted for the investigation of truth, are habitually employed in producing ai-guments such as no man of sense would ever put into a treatise intended for publication, arguments which are just good enough to be used once, when aided by fluent delivery and pointed language." And he despairingly closes with the remark, that he " w^ould sooner expect a great original work on political science, such a work, for example, as the Wealth of Nations, from an apothecary in a country town, or from a minister in the Hebrides, than from a statesman wlio, ever since he was one-and- twenty, liad been a distinguished debater in the House of Commons." Now it is plain that neither of these contemptuous judgments npi)lies to Webster. He Avas a great lawyer; but as a legislator the precedents of the lawyer did not control the action or supersede the principles of the statesman. lie was one of the most formidable debaters that ever appeared in a legislative assembly ; and yet those who most resolutely grappled with him in the duel of debate would be the last to impute to him inaccuracy of knowledge or shallowness of thought. He carried into the Senate of the United States a trained mind, disciplined by the sternest culture of his faculties, disdaining any plaudits which were not the honest reward of robust reasoning on AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. xliii generalized fiicts, and " gnivitating " in the direction of trutli, whether he hit or missed it. In his case, at least, there was nothing in his legal experience, or in his legislative experience, which would have unfitted him for producing a work on the science of politics. The best spef>'jhes in the House of Commons of Lord Palmerston and Lord John Russell appear very weak indeed, as compared with the Reply to Hayne, or the speecli on "• The Constitution not a Compact between Sovereign States," or the speech on the President's Protest. In this connection it may be said, when we remember the hot contests between the two men, that there is something plaintive in (^alhoun's dying testimony to Webster's austere intellectual conscien- tiousness. Mr. Venables, who attended the South Carolina states- man in h:s dying hours, wrote to Webster : " When your name was mentioned he remarked that ' Mr. Webster has as high a standard of truth as any statesman I have met in debate. Convince him, and he cannot reply ; he is silenced ; he cannot look truth in the face and oppose it by argument. I tliink that it can be readily perceived by his manner when he felt the unanswerable force of a reply.' He often spoke of you in my presence, and always kindly and most respectfully." Now it must be considered that, in debate, the minds of Webster and Calhoun had come into actual contact and collision. Each really felt the force of the other. An ordinary duel might be ranked among idle pastimes when compared with the stress and strain and pain of their encounters in the duel of debate. A sword-cut or pistol-bullet, maiming the body, was as nothing in comparison with the wounds they mutually inflicted on that substance which was immortal in both. It was a duel, or series of duels, in which mind was opposed to mind, and will to will, and where the object appeared to be to inflict moral and mental annihilation on one of the comba- tants. There never passed a word between them on which the most ingenious Southern jurists, in their interpretations of the "code" of honor, could have found matter for a personal quarrel ; and yet these two proud and strong personalities knew that they were engaged in a mortal contest, in which neither gave quarter nor expected quarter. Mr. Calhoun's intellectual egotism was as great as his intellectual ability. He always supposed that he was the victor in every close logical wrestle with any mind to which his own was opposed. He never wrestled with a mind, until he met Webster's, which in tenacity, grasp, and power was a match for his own. He, of course, thought his antagonist was beaten by his superior strength and amplitude of argumentation ; but it is still to be noted that he, the most redoubtable xliv DANIEL WEBSTER opponent tliat Webster ever encountered, testified, though in equivocal terms, to Webster's intellectual honesty. When he crept, half dead, into the Senate-Chamber to hear Webster's speech of the 7th of March, 1850, he objected emphatically at the end to Webster's decla- ration that the Union could not be dissolved. After declaring that Callioun's supposed case of justifiable resistance came within the definition of the ultimate right of revolution, which is lodged in all oppressed communities, Webster added that he did not at that time wish to cro into a discussion of the nature of the United States government. " The honorable gentleman and myself," he said, *' have broken lances sufficiently often before on that subject." "I have no desire to do it now," replied Calhoun ; and Webster blandly retorted, " I presume the gentleman has not, and I have quite as little." One is reminded here of Dr. Johnson's remark, when he was stretched on a sick-bed, with his gladiatorial powers of argument suspended by physi- cal exhaustion. " If that fellow Burke were now present," the Doctor humorously murmured, " he would certainly kill me." But to Webster's eminence as a lawyer and a statesman, it is proper to add, that he has never been excelled as a writer of state papers among the public men of the United States. Mr. Emerson has a phrase which is exactly applicable to these efforts of Webster's mind. That phrase is, " superb propriety." Throughout his despatches, he always seems to feel that he impersonates his country ; and the gravity and weight of his style are as admirable as its simplicity and majestic ease. " Daniel Webster, his mark," is indelibly stamped on them all When the Treaty of Washington was criticised by the Whigs in the English Parliament, Macaulay specially noticed the difference in the style of the two negotiators. Lord Ashburton, he said, had compro- mised the honor of his countiy by " the humble, caressing, wheedling tone " of his letters, a tone which contrasted strangely with " the firm, resolute, vigilant, and unyielding manner " of the American Secretary of State. It is to be noticed that no other opponent of Sir Robert Peel's administration, not even Lord Palmerston and Lord John Russell, struck at the essential weakness of Lord Ashburton's despatches with the force and sagacity which characterized Macaulay's assault on tlie treaty. Indeed, a rhetorician and critic less skilful than Macaulay can easily detect that " America " is. represented fully in Webster's despatclies, while " Britannia " has a very amiable, but not very forci- ble, representative in Lord Ashburton. Had Palmerston been tlie British plenipotentiary, we can easily imagine how different would have been the task imposed on Webster. As the American Secretary AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. xlv was generally in the right in every position he assumed, he would probably have triumphed even over Palmerston ; but the letters of the " pluckiest " of English statesmen would, we may be sure, have never been criticised in the House of Commons as " humble, wheedling, and caressing." In addition, however, to his legal arguments, his senatorial speeches, and his state papers, Webster is to be considered as the greatest oratoi our country has produced in his addresses before miscellaneous assem- blages of the people. In saying this we do not confine the remark to such noble orations as those on the " First Settlement of New Eng- land," " The Bunker Hill ^Monument," and " Adams and Jefferson," but extend it so as to include speeches before great masses of people who could be hardly distinguished from a mob, and who were under no restraint but that imposed by their own self-respect and their respect for the orator. On these occasions he was uniformly successfuL It is impossible to detect, in any reports of these popular addresses, that he ever stooped to employ a style of speech or mode of argument com- monly supposed appropriate to a speaker on the " stump"; and yet he was the greatest " stump " orator that our country has ever seen. He seemed to delight in addressing five, or ten, or even twenty thousand people, in the open air, trusting that the penetrating tones of his voice would reach even the ears of those who were on the ragged edges of the swaying crowd before him ; and he would thus speak to the sover- eign people, in their unorganized state as a collection of uneasy and somewhat belligerent individuals, with a dignity and majesty similar to the dignity and majesty which characterized his arguments before the Senate of the United States, or before a bench of judges. A large portion of his published works consist of such speeches, and they rank onlv second among the remarkable productions of his mind. The question arises. How could he hold the attention of such audiences without condescending to flatter their prejudices, or without occasionally acting the part of the sophist and the buffoon ? Mucli may be said, in accounting for this phenomenon, about his widely extended reputation, his imposing presence, the vulgar curiosity to see a man whom even the smallest country newspaper thought of sufficient importance to defame, his power of giving vitality to simple words which the most ignorant of his auditors could easily understand, and the instinctive respect which the rudest kind of men feel for a grand specimen of robust manhood. But the real, the substantial source of his power over such audiences proceeded from his respect for them ; and their respect for him was more or less consciously founded on the perception of this fact. xlvi DANIEL WEBSTER Indeed, a close scrutiny of his speeches will show how conscien- tiously he regards the rights of other minds, however inferior they mav be to his own ; and this virtue, for it is a virtue, is never more apparent than in his arguments and appeals addressed to popular assemblies. No working-man, whether farmer, mechanic, factory " hand," or day-laborer, ever deemed himself insulted by a word from the lips of Daniel Webster ; he felt himself rather exalted in his own esteem, for the time, by coming in contact with that beneficent and comprehensive intelligence, which cherished among its favorite ideas a scheme for lifting up the American laborer to a height of comfort and respectability which the European laborer could hardly hope to attain. Prominent politicians, men of wealth and influence, statesmen of high social and political rank, may, at times, have considered Webster as arrogant and bad-tempered, and may, at times, have felt disposed to fasten a quarrel upon him ; even in iMassachusetts this disposition broke out in conventions of the party to which he belonged ; but it would be in vain to find a single laboring-man, whether he met Web- ster in private, or half pushed and half fought his way into a mass meeting, in order to get his ears into communication with the orator's voice, who ever heard a word from him which did not exalt the dignity of labor, or which was not full of sympathy for the laborer's occasional sorrows and privations. Webster seemed to have ever present to his mind the poverty of the humble home of his youth. His father, his brothers, he himself, had all been brought up to consider manual toil a dignified occupation, and as consistent with the exercise of all the virtues which flourish under the domestic roof. More than this, it may be said that, with the exception of a few intimate friends, his sympathies to the last were most warmly with common laborers. Indeed, if we closely study the private correspondence of this states- man, who was necessarily brought into relations, more or less friendly, with the conventionally great men of the world, European as well as American, we shall find that, after all, he took more real interest in Seth Peterson, and John Taylor, and Porter Wright, men connected with him in fishing and farming, than he did in the ambassadors of foreign states whom he met as Senator or as Secretary of State, or in all the members of the polite society of Washington, New York, and Boston. He was very near to Nature himself ; and the nearer a man was to Nature, the more he esteemed him. Thus persons who super- intended his farms and cattle, or who pulled an oar in his boat when he ventured out in search of cod and halibut, thought " Squire Web- ster " a man who realized their ideal and perfection of good-fellowship AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. xlvii while it may confidently be said that many of his closest friends among men of culture, including lawyers, men of letters, and states- men of the first rank, must have occasionally resented the " anfractu- osities" of his mood and temper. But Seth Peterson, and Porter Wright, and John Taylor, never complained of these " anfrac- tuosities." Webster, in fact, is one of the few public men of tho country in whose championship of the rights and sympathy with the wroncrs of labor there is not the slightest trace of the arts of the demagogue ; and in this fact we may find the reason why even the '• roughs," who are present in every mass meeting, always treated him •with respect. Perhaps it would not be out of place to remark here, that, in his Speech of the 7th of March, he missed a grand opportunity to vindicate Northern labor, in the reference he made to a foolish tirade of a Senator from Louisiana, who " took pains to run a con- trast between the slaves of the South and the laboring people of the North, giving the preference, in all points of condition, of comfort, and happiness, to the slaves of the South." Webster made a complete reply to this aspersion on Northern labor ; but, as his purpose was to conciliate, he did not blast the libeller by quoting the most eminent example that could be named demonstrating the falsehood of the slave-holding Senator's assertion. Without deviating from the con- ciliatory attitude he had assumed, one could easily imagine him as lift- ing his large frame to its full heiglit, flashing from his rebuking eyes a glance of scorn at the " amiable Senator," and simply saying, " I belong to the class which the Senator from Louisiana stigmatizes as more desrraded than the slaves of the South." There was not at the time any Senator from the South, except Mr. Calhoun, that the most prejudiced Southern man would have thought of comparing with Web- ster in respect to intellectual eminence ; and, if Webster had then and there placed himself squarely on his position as the son of a Northern laborer, we should have been spared all the rhetoric about Northern " mud-sills," with which the Senate was afterwards afflicted. Web- ster was our man of men ; and it would seem that he should have crushed such talk at the outset, by proudly assnming that Northern labor was embodied and impersonated in him, — that HE had sprung from its ranks, and was proud of his ancestry. An ingenious and powerful, but paradoxical thinker, once told me tJiat I was mistaken in calling Jonathan Edwards and Daniel Webster great reasoners. " They were bad reasoners," he added, " but great poets." Without questioning the right of the author of " An Enquiry into the Modern Prevailing Notion of that Freedom of the Will, which xlviii DANIEL WEBSTER is supposed to be Essential to Moral Agency," to be ranked among the most eminent of modern logicians, I could still understand why be was classed among poets ; for whether Edwards paints the torments of hell or the bliss of heaven, his imagination almost rivals that of Dante in intensity of realization. But it was at first puzzling to comprehend why Webster should be depressed as a reasoner in order to be exalted as a poet. The images and metaphors scattered over his speeches ar« 80 evidently brought in to illustrate and enforce his statements and arguments, that, grand as they often are, the imagination displayed in them is still a faculty strictly subsidiary to the reasoning power. It was only after reflecting patiently for some time on the seeming paradox that I caught a glimpse of my friend's meaning ; and it led me at once to consider an entirely novel question, not heretofore mooted by any of Webster's critics, whether friendly or unfriendly, in their endeavors to explain the reason of his influence over tlie best minds of the generation to which he belonged. In declaring that, as a poet, he far exceeded any capacity he evinced as a reasoner, my paradoxical friend must have meant that Webster had the poet's power of so organizing a speech, that it stood out to the eye of the mind as a palpable intellectual product and fact, possessing, not merely that vague reality which comes from erecting a plausible mental structure of deductive argumentation, based on strictly limited prem- ises, but a positive reality, akin to the products of Nature herself, when she tries her hand in constructing a ledge of rocks or rearing a chain of hills. In illustration, it may be well to cite the example of poets with whom Webster, of course, cannot be compared. Among the gi-eat mental facts, palpable to the eyes of all men interested in literature, are such creations as the Iliad, the Divine Comedy, the great Shakspearian dramas, the Paradise Lost, and Faust. The commen- taries and criticisms on these are numerous enough to occupy the shelves of a large library ; some of them attempt to show that Homer, Dante, Sliakspeare, Milton, and Goethe were all ^\Tong in their methods of creation; but they still cannot obscure, to ordinary vision, the lustre of these luminaries as they placidly shine in the intellectual firmament, which is literally over our heads. They are as palpable, to the eye of the mind, as Sirius, Arcturus, the Southern Cross, and the planets Venus, Mars, Jupiter, and Saturn, are to the bodily sense. M. Taine has recently assailed the Paradise Lost with the happiest of French epigrams; he tries to prove that, in construc- tion, it is the most ridiculously inartistic monstrosity that the imagi- AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. xlix nation of a great mind ever framed out of chaos ; but, after we have thoroughly enjoyed the play of his wit, there the Paradise Lost remains, an undisturbed object in the intellectual heavens, disdaining to justify its right to exist on any other grounds than the mere fact of its existence ; and, certainly, not more ridiculous than Saturn himself, as we look at him through a great equatorial telescope, swinging through space encumbered with his clumsy ring, and his wrangling family of satellites, but still, in spite of peculiarities on which M. Taine might exercise his wit until doomsday, one of the most beauti ful and sublime objects which the astronomer can behold in the whole phenomena of the heavens. Indeed, in reading critici^ns on such durable poetic creations and organizations as we have named, one is reminded of Sydney Smith's delicious chaffing of his friend Jeffrey, on account of Jeffrey's sensi- tiveness of literary taste, and his inward rage that events, men, and books, outside of him, do not correspond to the exacting rules which are the products of his own subjective and somewhat peevish intelligence. " I like," says Sydney, " to tell you these things, because you never do so well as when you are humbled and frightened, and, if you could he alarmed into the semblance of modesty, you would charm everybody ; but remember my joke against you about the moon : ' D — n the solar system! bad light — planets too distant — pestered with comets — feeble contrivance ; could make a better with great ease.' " Now when a man, in whatever department or direction of thought his activity is engaged, succeeds in organizing, or even welding together, the materials on which he works, so that the product, as a whole, is visible to the mental eye, as a new creation or construction, he has an immense advantage over all critics of his performance. Refined reasonings are impotent to overthrow it ; epigrams glance off from it, as rifle-bullets rebound when aimed at a granite wall ; and it stands erect long after the reasonings and the epigrams are forgotten. Even when its symmetry is destroyed by a long and destructive siege, a pile of stones still remains, as at Fort Sumter, to attest what power of resistance it opposed to all the resources of modern artillery. If we look at Webster's greatest speeches, as, for instance, " The Reply to Hayne," " The Constitution not a Compact between Sover- eign States," "The President's Protest," and others that might be mentioned, we shall find that they partake of the character of organic formations, or at least of skilful engineering or architectural construc- tions. Even Mr. Calhoun never approached him in this art of giving objective reality to a speech, which, after all, is found, on analysis, to d 1 DANIEL WEBSTER consist only of a happy collocation and combination of words ; but in Webster the words are either all alive with the creative spirit of the poet, or, at the worst, resemble the blocks of granite or marble which the artisan piles, one on the other, and the result of which, though it may represent a poor style of architecture, is still a rude specimen of a Gothic edifice. The artist and artificer are both observable in Web- ster's work ; but the reality and solidity of the construction cannot be questioned. At the present time, an educated reader would be specially interested in the mental processes by which Webster thus succeeded in giving objective existence and validity to the operations of his mind ; and, whether sympathizing with his opinions or not, would as little think of refusincr to read them because of their Whif^crism. as he would think of refusing to read Homer because of his heathenism, or Dante because of his Catholicism, or Milton because of his compound of Arianism and Calvinism, or Goethe because of his Pantheism. The fact which would most interest such a reader would be, that Webster had, in some mysterious way, translated and transformed his abstract propositions into concrete substance and form. The form might offend his reason, his taste, or his conscience ; but he could not avoid admitting that it had a form, while most speeches, even those made by able men, are comparatively formless, hoAvever lucid they may be in the array of facts, and plausible in the order and connection of argu- ments. In trying to explain this power, the most obvious comparison which would arise in the mind of an intelligent reader would be, that Webster, as a rhetorician, resembled Vaubun and Cohorn as military engineers. In the war of debate, he so fortified the propositions he maintained, that they could not be carried by du-ect assault, but must be patiently besieged. The words he employed were simple enough, and fell short of including the vocabulary of even fifth-rate declaimers ; but he had the art of so disposing them that, to an honest reasoner, the position he took appeared to be impregnable. To assail it by the ordinary method of passionate protest and illogical reasoning, was as futile as a dash of light cavalry would have been against the defences of such cities as Namur and Lille. Indeed, in his speech, " The Consti- tution not a Compact between Sovereign States," he erected a whole Torres Vedras line of fortifications, on which legislative Massenas dashed themselves in vain, and, however strong in numbers in respect to the power of voting him down, recoiled defeated in every attempt to reason him down. In further illustration of this peculiar power of Webster, the Speech AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. li •of the Ttli ol Mavcli, 1850, may be cited, for its delivery is to be ranked with the most important historical events. For some years it was the object of the extremes of panegyric and the extremes of execration. But this effort is really the most loosely constructed of all the great pro- ductions of Webster's mind. In force, compactness, and completeness, in closeness of thought to things, in closeness of imagery to the reason- iii<^ it illustrates, and in general intellectual fibre, muscle, and bone, it cannot be compared to such an oration as that on the " First Settlement of New England," or such a speech as that which had for its theme, •' The Constitution not a Compact between Sovereign States " ; but, after all deductions have been made, it was still a speech which frowned upon its opponents as a kind of verbal fortress constructed both for the purpose of defence and aggression. Its fame is due, in a great degree, to its resistance to a storm of assaults, such as had rarely before been concentrated on any speech delivered in either branch of the Congress of the United States. Indeed, a very large portion of the intellect, the moral sentiment, and the moral passion of the free States was directed against it. There was not a weapon in the armory of the dialectician or the rhetorician which was not employed with the intent of demolish- ing it. Contempt of Webster was vehemently taught as the beginning of political wisdom. That a speech, thus assailed, should survive the attacks made upon it, appeared to be impossible. And yet it did survive, and is alive now, while better speeches, or what the present writer thought, at the time, to be more convincing speeches, have not retained individual existence, however deeply they may have influ enced that public opinion which, in the end, determines political events. " I still live," was Webster's declaration on his death-bed, when the friends gathered around it imagined he had breathed his last ; and the same words might be uttered by the Speech of the 7th of March, could it possess the vocal organ which announces personal existence. Between the time it was originally delivered and the present year there runs a great and broad stream of blood, shed from the veins of Northern and Southern men alike ; the whole political and moral constitution of the country has practically suffered an abrupt change; new problems engage the attention of thoughtful statesmen ; much is forgotten which w^as once considered of the first importance ; but the 7th of March Speech, battered as it is by innu- merable attacks, is still remembered at least as one which called forth more power than it embodied in itself. This persistence of life is due to the fact that it was "organized." Is this power of organization common among orators? It seems to lii DANIEL WEBSTER me that, on the contrary, it is very rare. In some of Burke's speeches, in which his sensibility and imagination were thoroughly under the control of his judgment, as, for instance, his speech on Conciliation with America, that on Economical Reform, and that to the Elec- tors of Bristol, we find the orator to be a consummate master of the art of so constructing a speech that it serves the immediate object which prompted its delivery, while at the same time it has in it a principle of vitality which makes it survive the occasion that called it forth. But the greatest of Burke's speeches, if we look merely at the richness and variety of mental power and the force and depth of moral passion displayed in it, is his speech on the Nabob of Arcot'a Debts. No speech ever delivered before any assembly, legislative, judicial, or popular, can rank with this in respect to the abundance of its facts, reasonings, and imagery, and the ferocity of its moral wrath. It resembles the El Dorado that Voltaire's Candide visited, where the boys played with precious stones of inestimable value, as our boys play with ordinary marbles ; for to the inhabitants of El Dorado diamonds and pearls were as common as pebbles are with us. But the defect of this speech, which must still be considered, on the whole, the most inspired product of Burke's great nature, was this, — that it did not strike its hearers or readers as having reality for its basis or the superstructure raised upon it. Englishmen could not believe then, and most of them probably do not believe now, that it had any solid foundation in incontrovertible facts. It did not " fit in " to their ordinary modes of thought ; and it has never been ranked with Burke's "organized" orations; it has never come home to what Bacon called the " business and bosoms " of his countrymen. They have generally dismissed it from their imaginations as " a phantasmagoria and a hideous dream " created by Burke under the impulse of the intense hatred he felt for the administration which Bucceeded the overthrow of the government, which was founded on the coalition of Fox and North. Now, in simple truth, the speech is the most masterly statement of facts, relating to the oppression of millions of the people of India, which was ever forced on the attention of the House of Commons, — a legislative assembly which, it may be incidentally remarked, was practically responsible for the just government of the immense Indian empire of Great Britain. It is curious that the main facts on Avhich the argument of Burke rests have been confirmed by James Mill, the coldt-st-blooded historian that ever narrated the enormous crimes which attended the rise and progress of the British power in Hindos- AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. liii tan, and a man who also bad a strong intellectual antipathy to the mind of Burke. In making the speech, Burke had documentary evidence of a large portion of the transactions he denounced, and had divined the rest. lAIill supports him both as regards the facts of which Burke had positive knowledge, and the facts which he deduc- tively inferred from the facts he knew. Having thus a strong foundar tion for his argument, he exerted every faculty of his mind, and every impulse of his moral sentiment and moral passion, to overwhelm the leading members of the administration of Pitt, by attempting to make them accomplices in crimes which would disgrace even slave-traders on the Guinea coast. The merely intellectual force of his reasoning is crushing ; his analysis seems to be sharpened by his hatred ; and there is no device of contempt, scorn, derision, and direct personal attack, which he does not unsparingly use. In the midst of all this mental tumult, inestimable maxims of moral and political wisdom are shot forth in short sentences, which have so much of the sting and bril- liancy of epigram, that at first we do not appreciate their depth of thought; and through all there burns such a pitiless fierceness of moral reprobation of cruelty, injustice, and -vf rong, that all the accred- ited courtesies of debate are violated, once, at least, in every five minutes. In any American legislative assembly he would have been called to order at least once in five minutes. The images which the orator brings in to give vividness to his argument are sometimes coarse ; but, coarse as they are, they admirably reflect the moral tur- pitude of the men against whom he inveighs. Among these is the image with which he covers Dundas, the special friend of Pitt, with a ridicule which promises to be immortal. Dundas, on the occasion when Fox and Burke called for papers by the aid of which they pro- posed to demonstrate the iniquity of the scheme by which the minis- try proposed to settle the debts of the Nabob of Arcot, pretended that the pioduction of such papers would be indelicate, — " that this inquiry is of a delicate nature, and that the state will suffer detriment by the exposure of this transaction." As Dundas had previously brought out fiix volumes of Reports, generally confirming Burke's own views of the corruption and oppression which marked the administration of affairs in India, he laid himself open to Burke's celebrated assault. Dundas and delicacy, he said, were " a rare and singular coalition." And then follows an image of colossal coarseness, such as might be suj^posed capable of rousing thunder-peals of laughter from a company of fes- tive giants, — an image which Lord Brougham declared offended /lis sensitive taste, — the sensitive taste of one of the most formidable llV DANIEL WEBSTEU lef'al and legislative bullies that ever appeared before the juries or Parliament of Great Britain, and who never hesitated to use any illustration, however vulgar, which he thought would be effective to degrade his opponents. But whatever may be thought of the indelicacy of Burke's image, it was one eminently adapted to penetrate through the thick hide of the minister of state at whom it was aimed, and it shamed him as far as a profligate politician like Dundas was capable of feeling the sen- sation of shame. But there are also flashes, or rather flames, of impas- sioned imagination, in the same speech, which rush up from the main body of its statements and arguments, and remind us of nothing so much as of those jets of incandescent gas Avhich, we are told by astronomers, occasionally leap, from the extreme outer covering of the sun, to the height of a hundred or a hundred and sixty thousand miles, and testify to the terrible forces raging within it. After read- ing this speech for the fiftieth time, the critic cannot free himself from the rapture of admiration and amazement which he experienced in his first fresh acquaintance with it. Yet its delivery in the House of Commons (February 28, 1785) produced an effect so slight, that Pitt, after a few minutes' consultation with Grenville, concluded that it was not worth the trouble of being answered ; and the House of Commons, obedient to the Prime Minister's direction, negatived, by a large majority, the motion in advocating which Burke poured out the wonderful treasures of his intellect and imagination. To be sure, the House was tired to death with the discussion, was probably very sleepy, and the'orator spoke five hours after the members had already shouted, " Question ! Question ! " The truth is, that this speech, unmatched though it is in the litera- ture of eloquence, had not, as has been previously stated, the air of reality. It struck the House as a magnificent Oriental dream, as an Arabian Nights' Entertainment, as a tale told by an inspired madman, ''full of sound and fury, signifying nothing"; and the evident par- tisan intention of the orator to blast Pitt's administration by exhibit- ing its complicity in one of the most enormous frauds recorded in history, confirmed the dandies, the cockneys, the bankers, and the country gentlemen, who, as members of the House of Commons, stood by Pitt with all the combined force of their levity, their venality, and their stupidity, in the propriety of voting Burke down. And even now, when the substantial truth of all the facts he alleged is establislufd on evidence which convinces historians, the admiring reader can understand why it failed to convince Burke's contempo- At, A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. Iv raries, and wliy it still appears to lack the characteristics of a speech thoroughly organized. Indeed, the mind of Burke, when it was de- livered, can only be compared to a volcanic mountain in eruption ; — not merely a volcano like that of Vesuvius, visited by scientists and amateurs in crowds, wdien it deigns to pour forth its flames and lava for the entertainment of the multitude ; but a lonely volcano, like that of Etna, rising far above Vesuvius in height, far removed from all the vulgar curiosity of a body of tourists, but rending the earth on which it stands with the mighty earthquake throes of its fiery centre and heart. The moral passion, — perliaps it would be more just to say the moral fury, — displayed in the speech, is elemental, and can be compared to nothing less intense than the earth's interior fire and heat. Now in Webster's great legislative efforts, his mind is never exhib- ited in a state of eruption. In the most excited debates in which he bore a prominent part, nothing strikes us more than the admirable self-possession, than the majestic inward calm, which presides over all the operations of his mind and the impulses of his sensibility, so that, in building up the fabric of his speech, he has his reason, imagination, and passion under full control, — using each faculty and feeling as the occasion may demand, but never allowing himself to be used by it, — and always therefore conveying the impression of power in reserve, while he may, in fact, be exercising all the power he has to the utmost. In laboriously erecting his edifice of reasoning he also studi- ously regards the intellects and the passions of ordinary men ; strives to bring his mind into cordial relations with theirs ; employs every faculty he possesses to give reality, to give even visibility, to his thoughts ; and though he never made a speech which rivals that of Burke on the Nabob of Arcot's Debts, in respect to grasp of under- standing, astounding wealth of imagination and depth of moral passion, he always so contrived to organize his materials into a complete whole, that the result stood out clearly to the sight of the mind, as a structure resting on strong foundations, and reared to due height by the mingled skill of the artisan and the artist. When he does little more than w^eld his materials together, he is still an artificer of the old school of giant workmen, the school that dates its pedigree from Tubal Cain. After all this wearisome detail and dilution of the idea attempted to be expressed, it may be that I have failed to convey an adequate impression of what constitutes Webster's distinction among orators, as far as orators have left speeches which are considered an invaluable addition to the literature of the language in which they were origi- ivl DANIEL WEBSTER nally delivered. Everybody understands why any one of the great sermons of Jeremy Taylor, or the sermon of Dr. South on "Man created in the Image of God," or the sermon of Dr. Barrow on " Heavenly Rest," differs from the millions on millions of doubtless edifying sermons that have been preached and printed during the last two centuries and a half ; but everybody does not understand the distinction between one brilliant oration and another, when both made a great sensation at the time, while only one survived in litera- ture. Probably Charles James Fox was a more effective speaker in the House of Commons than Edmund Burke , probably Henry Clay was a more effective speaker in Congress than Daniel Webster ; but when th3 occasions on which their speeches were made are found gradually to fade from the memory of men, why is it that the speeches of Fox and Clay have no recognized position in literature, while those of Burke and Webster are ranked with literary produc- tions of the first class ? The reason is as really obvious as that which explains the exceptional value of some of the efforts of the great orators of the pulpit. Jeremy Taylor, Dr. South, and Dr. Barrow, different as they were in temper and disposition, succeeded in " organ- izing " some masterpieces in their special department of intellectual and moral activity ; and the same is true of Burke and Webster in the departments of legislation and political science. The " occasion " was merely an opportunity for the consolidation into a speech of the rare powers and attainments, the large personality and affluent thouglit, which were the spiritual possessions of the man who made it, — a speech which represented the whole intellectual manhood of the speaker, — a manhood in which knowledge, reason, imagination, and sensibility were all consolidated under the directing power of will. A pertinent example of the difference we have attempted to in- dicate may be easily found in contrasting Fox's closing speech on the East India Bill with Burke's on the same subject. For imme- diate effect on the House of Commons, it ranks with the most mas- terly of Fox's Parliamentary efforts. The hits on his opponents were all ''telling." The argumentum ad hominem, embodied in short, sharp statements, or startling interrogatories, was never employed with more brilliant success. The reasoning was rapid, compact, en- cumbered by no long enumeration of facts, and, though somewhat unscrupulous here and there, was driven home upon his adversaries with a skill that equalled its audacity. It may be said that there is not a sentence in the whole speech which was not calculated to sting AS A MASTER OF EXGLISU STYLE. Ivii a sleepy audience into attention, or to give delight to a fatigued audience which still managed to keep its eyes and minds wide open. Even in respect to the principles of liberty and justice, which were the animating life of the bill, Fox's terse sentences contrast strangely with the somewhat more lumbering and elaborate paragraphs of Burke. " What," he exclaims, putting his argument in his favorite interrogative form, — "what is the most odious species of tyranny? Precisely that which this bill is meant to annihilate. That a hand- ful of men, free themselves, should exercise the most base and abomi- nable despotism over millions of their fellow-creatures ; that innocence should be the victim of oppression ; that industry should toil for rapine ; that the harmless laborer should sweat, not for his own bene- fit, but for the luxury and rapacity of tyrannic depredation ; — in a word, that thirty millions of men, gifted by Providence with the ordinary endowments of humanity, should groan under a system of despotism unmatched in all the histories of the world ? What is th« end of all government ? Certainly, the happiness of the governed Others may hold different opinions ; but this is mine, and I proclaim it. What, then, are we to think of a government whose good fortune is supposed to spring from the calamities of its subjects, whose aggran- dizement grows out of the miseries of mankind? This is the kind of government exercised under the East Indian Company upon the natives of Hindostan ; and the subversion of that infamous govern ment is the main object of the bill in question." . And afterwards he says, with admirable point and pungency of statement : " Every line in both the bills which I have had the honor to introduce, presumes the possibility of bad administration ; for every word breathes sus- picion. This bill supposes that men are but men. It confides in no integrity ; it trusts no character ; it inculcates the wisdom of a jealousy of power, and annexes responsibility, not only to every action, but even to the inaction of those who are to dispense it. The necessity of these provisions must be evident, when it is known that the different misfortunes of the company have resulted not more from what their gervants did, than from what the masters did not." There is a directness in such sentences as these which we do not find in Burke's speech on the East India Bill ; but Burke's remains as a part of English literature, and in form and substance, especially in substance, is so immensely superior to that of Fox, that, in quoting sentences from the latter, one may almost be supposed to rescue them from that neglect which attends all speeches which do not reach beyond the occasion which calls them forth. In Bacon's phrase, the Iviii DANIEL WEBSTER speech of Fox shows "small matter, and infinite agitation of mt" in Buike's, we discern large matter with an abundance of "wit" proper to the discussion of the matter, but nothing which suggests the idea of mere " agitation." Fox, in his speeches, subordinated every thing to the immediate impression he might make on the House of Commons. He deliberately gave it as his opinion, that a speech that read well must be a bad speech ; and, in a literary sense, the Hoase of Commons, which he entered before he was twenty, may be called both the cradle and the grave of his fame. It has been said that he was a debater whose speeches should be studied by every man who wishes " to learn the science of logical defence " ; that he alone, amoner Encrlish orators, resembles Demosthenes, inasmuch as his reasoning is " penetrated and made red-hot by passion " ; and that nothing could excel the effect of liis delivery when " he was in the full paroxysm of inspiration, foaming, screaming, choked by the rushing multitude of his words." But not one of his speeches, not even that on the East India Bill, or on the Westminster Scrutiny, or on the Russian Armament, or on Parliamentary Reform, or on Mr. Pitt's Rejection of Bonaparte's Overtures for Peace, has obtained an abiding place in the literature of Great Britain. It would be no disparage- ment to an educated man, if it were said that he had never read these speeches; but it would be a serious bar to his claim to be considered an English scholar, if he confessed to be ignorant of the great speeches of Burke; for such a confession would be like admitting that he had never read the first book of Hooker's Ecclesiastical Polity, Bacon's Essays and Advancement of Learning, ^Milton's Areopagitica, Butler's Analogy, and Adam Smith's Wealth of Nations. When we reflect on the enormous number of American speeches which, when they were first delivered, were confidently predicted, by appreciating friends, to insure to the orators a fame which would be immortal, one wonders a little at the quiet persistence of the speeches of Webster in refusing to die with the abrupt suddenness of other orations, which, at the time of their delivery, seemed to have an equal chance of renown. The lifeless remains of such unfortunate faihires are now entombed in that dreariest of all mausoleums, the dingy quarto volumes, hateful to all human eyes, which are lettered on the back with the title of "Congressional Debates," — a collection of printed matter which members of Congress are wont to send to a favored few among their constituents, and which are immediately consigned to the dust-barrel or sold to pedlers in waste paper, according as the rage of the recipients takes a scornful or an economical direction. It would AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. ILx seem that tlie speeches of "Webster are saved from this fate, by the fact tliat, in them, the mental and moral life of a great man, and of a great master of the English language, are organized in a palpable intel- lectual form. The reader feels that thoy have some of the substantial qualities which he recognizes in looking at the gigantic constructions of the master workmen among the crowd of the world's engineers and architects, in looking at the organic products of Nature herself, and in surveying, through the eye of his imagination, those novel repro- ductions of Nature wliich great poets have embodied in works which are indelibly stamped with the character of deathlessness. But Webster is even more obviously a poet — subordinating "the shows of things to the desires of the mind" — in his magnificent ideal ization, or idolization, of the Constitution and the Union. By the magic of his imagination and sensibility he contrived to impress on the minds of a majority of the people of the free States a vague, grand idea that the Constitution was a sacred instrument of government, — a holy shrine of fundamental law, which no unhallowed hands could touch witliout profanation, — a digested system of rights and duties, resembling those institutes which were, in early times, devised by the immortal gods for the guidance of infirm mortal man ; and the mysterious creatures, half divine and half human, who framed this remarkable document, were always reverently referred to as " the Fathers," — as persons who excelled all succeeding generations in sagacity and wis- dom ; as inspired prophets, who were specially selected by Divine Providence to frame the political scriptures on which our political faith was to be based, and by which our political reason was to be limited. The splendor of the glamour thus cast over the imagi- nations and sentiments of the people was all the more effective be- cause it was an effluence from the mind of a statesman who, of all other statesmen of the oountry, was deemed the most practical, and the least deluded by any misguiding lights of fancy and abstract speculation. There can be little doubt that Webster's impressive idealization of the Constitution gave a certain narrowness to American thinking on constitutional government and the science of politics and legislation. Foreigners, of the most liberal views, could not sometimes restrain an expression of wonder, when they found that our most intelligent men, even our jurists and publicists, hardly condescended to notice the eminent European thinkers on the philosophy of government, so absorbed were they in the contemplation of the perfection of their own. When the great civil war broke out, hundreds of thousands of Ix DANIEL WEBSTER American citizens marcLed to the battle-field with the grand passages of Weljster glowing in their hearts. They met death cheerfully in the cause of the " Constitution and Union," as by him expounded and idealized ; and if they were so unfortunate as not to be killed, but to be taken captive, they still rotted to death in Southern prisons, sustained by sentences of Webster's speeches which they had de- claimed as boys in their country schools. Of all the triumphs of Webster as a leader of public opinion, the most remarkable was his infusing into the minds of the people of the free States the belief that the Constitution as it existed in his time was an organic fact, springing from the intelligence, hearts, and wills of the people of the United States, and not, as it really was, an ingenious mechanical con- trivance of wise men, to which the people, at the time, gave their assent. The constitutions of the separate States of the Union were doubt- less rooted in the habits, sentiments, and ideas of their inhabitants. But the Constitution of the United States could not possess this advantage, however felicitously it may have been framed for the pur- pose of keeping, for a considerable period, peace between the different sections of the country. As long, therefore, as the institution of negrc slavery lasted, it could not be called a Constitution of States organi- cally " United " ; for it lacked the principle of growth, which charac- terizes all constitutions of government which are really adapted to the progressive needs of a people, if the people have in them any impulse Avhich stimulates them to advance. The unwritten constitution of Great Britain has this advantage, that a decree of Parliament can alter the whole representative system, annihilating by a vote of the two houses all laws which the Parliament had enacted in former years. In Great Britain, therefore, a measure which any Imperial Parliament passes becomes at once the supreme law of the land, though it may nullify a great number of laws which previous Parliaments had passed under difTerent conditions of the sentiment of the nation. Our Con- stitution, on the other hand, provides for the contingencies of growth in the public sentiment only by amendments to the Constitution. These amendments require more than a majority of all the political forces represented in Congress; and Mr. Calhoun, foreseeing that a collision must eventually occur between the two sections, carried with h'.m, not only the South, but a considerable minority of the North, in resisting any attempt to limit the extension of slavery. On this point the passions and principles of the people of the slave-holding and the majority of the people of the non-slave-holding States came into violent AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE. 1X1 opposition ; and there was no possibility that any amendment to the Constitution could be ratified, which would represent either the growth of the Southern people in their ever-increasing belief that negro slavery was not only a good in itself, but a good which ought to be extended, or the growth of the Northern people in their ever- increasing hostility both to slavery and its extension. Thus two principles, each organic in its nature, and demanding indefinite devel- opment, came into deadly conflict under the mechanical forms of a Constitution which was not organic. A considerable portion of the speeches in this volume is devoted to denunciations of violations of the Constitution perpetrated by Web ster's political opponents. These violations, again, would seem to prove that written constitutions follow practically the same law of development which marks the progress of the unwritten. By a strained system of Congressional interpretation, the Constitution has been repeatedly compelled to yield to the necessities of the party dominant, for the time, in the government ; and has, if we may believe Webster, been repeatedly changed without being con- stitutionally " amended."' The causes which led to the most terri- ble civil war recorded in history were silently working beneath the forms of the Constitution, — both parties, by the way, appeal- ing to its provisions, — while Webster was idealizing it as the utmost which humanity could come to in the way of civil government. In 1848, when nearly all Europe was in insurrection against its rulers, he proudly said that our Constitution promised to be the oldest^ as well as the best, in civilized states. Meanwhile the institution of negro slavery was undermining the whole fabric of the Union. The moral division between the South and North was widening into a division between the religion of the two sections. The Southern statesmen, economists, jurists, publicists, and ethical writers had adapted their opinions to the demands which the defenders of the institution of slavery imposed on the action of the human intellect and conscience ; but it was rather startling to discover that the Christian religion, as taught in the Southern States, was a religion which had no vital con- nection with the Christianity taught in the Northern States. There is nothing more astounding, to a patient explorer of the causes which led to the final explosion, than this opposition of religions. The mere form of the dogmas common to the religion of both sections might be verbally identical ; but a volume of sermons by a Southern doctor of divinity, as far as he touched on the matter of slavery, was as different from one published by his Northern brother, in the essen Ixii D.'lXIKL WEBSTER tial moral and humane elements of Christianity, as though they were divided from each other by a gulf as wide as that which yawns between a Druid priest and a Christian clergyman. The politicians of the South, whether they were the mouthpieces of the ideas and passions of their constituents, or were, as Webster probably thought, more or less responsible for their foolishness and bitterness, were ever eager to precipitate a conflict, which Webster was as eager to prevent, or at least to postpone. It was fortunate for the North, that the inevitable conflict did not come in 1850, when the free States were unprepared for it. Ten years of discussion and prei>- aration were allowed ; when the war broke out, it found the North in a position to meet and eventually to overcome the enemies of the Union ; and the Constitution, not as it was, but as it is, now represents a form of government which promises to be permanent; for after passing through its baptism of fire and blood, the Constitution con- tains nothing which is not in harmony with any State government fouiuled on the principle of equal rights which it guarantees, and is proof against all attacks but those which may proceed from the extremes of human folly and wickedness. But that, before the civil war, it was preserved so long under conditions which constantly threatened it with destruction, is due in a considerable degree to the circumstance that it found in Daniel Webster its poet as well as ils " expounder." In conclusion it may be said that the style of Webster is pre-emi- nently distinguished by manliness. Nothing little, weak, Avhining, or sentimental can be detected in any page of the six volumes of his works. A certain strength and grandeur of personality is prominent in all his speeches. When he says " I," or " my," he never appears to indulge in the bravado of self-assertion, because tlie words are felt to express a posi- tive, stalwart, almost colossal manhood, which had already been implied in the close-knit sentences in which he embodied his statements and arguments. He is an eminent instance of the power which character communicates to style. Though evidently proud, self-respecting, and high-spirited, he is ever above mere vanity and egotism. Whenever he gives emphasis to the personal pronoun the reader feels that he had as much earned the right to make his opinion an authoritj% as he had earned the right to use the words he employs to express his ideas ami sentiments. Thus, in the celebrated Smith Will trial, his antagonist, Mr. Choate, quoted a decision of Lord Chancellor Camden. In his reply, Webster argued against its validity as though it were merely a proposition laid down by Mr. Choate. "But it is not mine, it is Lord AS A MASTER OF ENGLISH STYLE, ixiii Camden's," ^^'as the instant retort. Webster paused for half a mhiute, and then, with his eye fixed on the presiding judge, he replied : " Lord Camden was a great judge ; he is respected by every American, for he was on our side in the Revolution ; but, may it please your honor, /differ from my Lord Camden." There was hardly a lawyer in the United States who could have made such a statement without exposing himself to ridicule ; but it did not seem at all ridiculous, when the '' I " stood for Daniel Webster, In his early career as a lawyer, his mode of reasoning was such as to make him practically a thirteenth juror in the panel ; when his fame was fully established, he contrived, in some mysterious way, to seat himself by the side of the judges on the bench, and appear to be consulting with them as a jurist, rather than addressing them as an advocate. The personality of the man was always suppressed until there seemed to be need of asserting it ; and then it was proudly pushed into prominence, though rarely passing beyond the limits which his acknowledged eminence as a statesman and lawyer did not justify him in asserting it. Among the selections in the present volume where his individuality becomes somewhat aggressive, and breaks loose from the restraints ordinarily self-imposed on it, may be mentioned his speech on his Reception at Boston (1842), his Marshfield Speech (1848), and his speech at his Reception at Buffalo (1851). Whatever may be thought of the course of argument pursued in these, they are at least thoroughly penetrated with a manly spirit, — a manliness somewhat haughty and defiant, but still consciously strong in its power to return blow for blow, from whatever quarter tlie assault may come. But the real intellectual and moral manliness of Webster underlies all his great orations and speeches, even those where the animating life which gives them the power to persuade, convince, and uplift the reader's mind, seems to be altogether impersonal ; and this plain force of manhood, this sturdy grapple with every question that comes before his understanding for settlement, leads him contemptuously to reject all the meretricious aids and ornaments of mere rhetoric, and is prominent, among the many exceptional qualities of his large nature, which have given him a high position among the prose-writers of his country as a consummate master of English style. THE GREAT ORATIONS AND SPEECHES OP DANIEL WEBSTER. THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. AKGUMENT BEFORE THE SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES, AT WASHINGTON, ON THE 10th OF MARCH, 1818. [The action, The Trustees of Dartmouth College V. William H. Woodward, was com- menced in the Court of Common Pleas, Grafton County, State of New Hampshire, February term, 1817. The declaration was trover for the books of record, original charter, common seal, and other corporate property of the College. The conversion was alleged to have been made on the 7th day of October, 1816. The proper pleas were filed, and by consent the cause was carried directly to the Superior Court of New Hampshire, by appeal, and entered at the May term, 1817. The general issue was pleaded by the defendant, and joined by the plaintiffs. The facts in the case were then agreed upon by the parties, and drawn up in the form of a special verdict, reciting the charter of the College and the acts of the legislature of the State, passed June and December, 1816, by which the said corporation of Dartmouth College was enlarged and improved, and the said charter amended. The question made in the case was, whether those acts of the legislature were valid and binding upon the corporation, without their acceptance or assent, and not repugnant to the Constitution of the United States. K so, the verdict found for the defendants ; otherwise, it found for the plaintiffs. The cause was continued to the Sep- tember term of the court in Kockingham County, where it was argued ; and at the November term of the same year, in Grafton County, the opinion of the court was deliv- ered by Ciiief Justice Richardson, in favor of the validity and constitutionality of the acts of the legislature; and judgment was accordingly entered for the defendant on the sneciai verdict. Thereupon a writ of error was sued out by the original plaintiffs, to remove the cause to the Supreme Court of the United States ; where it was entered at the term of the court holden at Washington on the first ^londay of February, 1818. The cause came on for argument on the 10th day of March, 1818, before all the judges. It was argued by Mr. Webster and Mr. Hopkinson for the plaintiffs in error, and by Mr. Holmes and the Attorney-Gen eral (Wirt) for the defendant in error. At the term of the court holden in Febru ary, 1819, the opinion of the judges was de- livered by Chief Justice Marshall, declaring the acts of the legislature unconstitutional and invalid, and reversing the judgment of the State Court. The court/ with the ex- ception of Mr. Justice Duvall, were unani- mous. The following was the argument of Mr. Webster for the plaintiffs in error.] The general question is, whether the acts of the legislature of New Hamp- shire of the 27th of June, and of the ISth and 26th of December, 181G, are valid and binding on the plaintiifs, with- out their acceptance or assent. The charter of 17G9 created and estab- lished a corporation, to consist of twelve persons, and no more; to be called the " Trustees of Dartmouth College." The preamble to the charter recites, that it \3 granted on the apiilication and request of the Rev. Eleazer Wheelock: That Dr. Wheelock, about the year 1754, estab- lished a charity school, at hia own ex- 2 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. pense, and on his own estate and plan- tation : That for several years, through the assistance of well-disposed persons in America, granted at his solicitation, he had clothed, maintained, and edu- cated a number of native Indians, and employed them afterwards as mission- aries and schoolmasters among the sav- age tribes : That, his design promising to be useful, he had constitutefl the Rev. Mr. Whitaker to be his attorney, with power to solicit contributions, in Eng- land, for the further extension and car- rying on of his undertaking ; and that he had requested tiie Earl of Dartmouth, Baron Smith, ^Ir. Thornton, and other gentlemen, to receive such sums as might be contributed, in England, towards supporting his school, and to be trustees thereof, for his charity ; which these persons had agreed to do : That there- upon Dr. AVheelock had executed to them a deed of trust, in pm-suance of such agreement between him and them, and, for divers good reasons, had re- ferred it to these persons to determine the place in which the school should be finally established : And, to enable them to form a proper decision on this subject, had laid before them the several offers which had been made to him by the sev- eral governments in America, in order to induce him to settle and establish his school within the limits of such govern- ments for their own emolument, and the increase of learning in their respective places, as well as for the furtherance of his general original design : And inas- much as a number of the proprietors of lands in New Hampshire, animated by the exajnple of the Governor himself and others, and in consideration that, ■without any impediment to its original design, tlie school might be enlarged and improved, to promote learning among tlie Englisli, and to supply ministers to the people of that Province, had prom- ised largo tracts of land, provided the school should be established in that Province, the persons before mentioned, ha\ ing weighed tlie reasons in favor of tlie several places proposed, had given the preference to this Province, and these offers : 'J'hat Dr. AVheL'loek therefore represented the necessity of a legal in- corjxiration, and proiwsed that certain gentlemen in America, whom he had already named and appointed in his will to be trustees of his charity after his de- cease, should compose the corporation. Upon this recital, and in consideration of the laudable originaJ design of Dr. Wheelock, and willing that the beat means of education be established io Xew Hampshire, for the benefit of the Province, the king granted the charter, by the advice of his Prorincial Council. Tiie substance of the facts thus re- cited is, that Dr. Wheelock had founded a charity, on funds owned and procured by himself ; that he was at that time the sole dispenser and sole administra- tor, as well as the legal owner, of these funds ; that he had made his will, de- vising this property in trust, to continue the existence and uses of the school, and appointed trustees ; that, in this state of things, he had been invited to fix his school permanently in Xew Hampshire, and to extend the design of it to the education of the youth of that Province; that before he removed his school, or ac- cepted this invitation, which his friends in England had advised him to accept, he applied for a charter, to be granted, not to whomsoever the king or govern- ment of the Province should please, but to such persons as he named and ap- pointed, namely, the persons whom he had already appointed to be the future trustees of his charity by his will. The charter, or letters patent, then proceed to create such a corporation, and to appoint twelve persons to constitute it, by the name of the " Trustees of Dartmouth College"; to have perpetual existence as such corporation, and with power to hold and dispose of lands and goods, for the use of the college, with all the onlinary powers of corporations. They are in their discretion to apply the funds and property of the college to the support of the president, tutors, minis- ters, and other officers of the college, and such missionaries and schoolmasters as they may see fit to employ among tho Indians. There are to be twelve ti .istees for ever, and no more; and they are to have THE DART.MOUTH COLLEGE CASE. '6 the right of filling vacancies occurring in their own body. The Kev. Mr. Wlieelock is declared to be the founder of the col- lege, and is, by the charter, appointed first president, with power to appoint a successor by his last will. All proper powers of government, superintendence, and visitation are vested in the trustees. They are to appoint and remove all otficers at their discretion; to fix their Balaiies, and assign their duties; and to make all ordinances, orders, and laws for the government of the students. To the end that the persons who had acted as depositaries of the contributions in England, and who had also been con- tributors themselves, might be satisfied of the good use of their contributions, the president was annually, or when re- quired, to transmit to them an account of the progress of the institution and the disbursements of its funds, so long as they should continue to act in that trust. These letters patent are to be good and effectual, in law, afjainst the king, his heirs and successors for ever, without further grant or confirmation; and the trustees are to hold all and singular these privileges, advantages, liberties, and immunities to them and to their successors for ever. Xo funds are given to the college by this charter. A corporate existence and capacity are given to the trustees, with the privileges and immunities which have been mentioned, to enable the founder and his associates the better to manage the funds which they themselves had contributed, and such others as they might afterwards obtain. After the institution thus created and constituted had existed, uninterruptedly and usefully, nearly fifty years, the legis- lature of Xew Hampshire passed the acts in question. The first act makes the tw-elve trustees under the charter, and nine other indi- viduals, to be appointed by the Governor and Council, a corporation, by a new name ; and to this new corporation trans- fers all the property, rights, powers, liber- ties, and privileges of the old corporation ; with fm-ther powet to establish new colleges and an institute,, and to apply all or any part of the funds to these purposes; subject to the power and con- trol of a board of twenty-five overseers, to be appointed by the Governor and Council. The second act makes further pro- visions for executing tne objects of the first, and the last act authorizes the de- fendant, the treasurer of the plaintiffs, to retain and hold their property, against their will. If these acts are valid, the old corpora tion IS abolished, and a new one created. The first act does, in fact, if it can have any effect, create a new corporation, and transfer to it all the property and fran- chises of the old. The two corporations are not the same in anything which es- sentially belongs to the existence of a corporation. They have different names, and different powers, rights, and duties. Their organization is wholly different. The powers of the corporation are not vested in the same, or similar hands. In one, the trustees are twelve, and no more. In the other, they are twenty- one. In one, the power is in a single board. In the other, it is divided be- tween two boards. Although the act professes to include the old trustees in the new corporation, yet that was with- out their assent, and against their re- monstrance ; and no person can be com- pelled to be a member of such a corpora- tion against his will. It was neither expected nor intended that they should be members of the new corporation. The act itself treats the old corporation as at an end, and, going on the ground that all its functions have ceased, it pro- vides for the first meeting and organiza- tion of the new corporation. It express- ly provides, also, that the new corpora- tion shall have and hold all the property of the old; a provision which woukl be quite unnecessary upon any other ground, than that the old corporation was dis- solved. But if it could be contended that the effect of these acts was not en- tirely to abolish the old corporation, yet it is manifest that they impair and in- vade the rights, property, and powers of the trustees under the charter, as a cor- poration, and the legal rights, privileges, rilE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. and immunities which belong to them, as individual members of the corporation. The twelve trustees were the sole legal owners of all the property acquired un- der tlie charter. By the acts, others are admitted, against their will, to be joint owners. The twelve individuals who are trustees were possessed of all the fran- chises and immunities conferred by the charter. By tlie acts, nine other trustees and twenty-Jice overseers are admitted, against their will, to divide these fran- chises and immunities with them. If, either as a corporation or as indi- viduals, they have any legal rights, this forcible intrusion of others violates those rights, as manifestly as an entii-e and complete ouster and dispossession. These acts alter the whole constitution of the corporation. They affect the rights of the whole body as a coi-poration, and the rights of the individuals who compose it. They revoke corporate powers and franchises. They alienate and transfer the property' of the college to others. By the charter, the trustees had a right to fill vacancies in their own nimiber. This is now taken away. They were to con- sist of twelve, and, by express provision, of no more. This is altered. They and their successors, appointed by them- selves, were for ever to hold the prop- erty. The legislature has found suc- cessors for them, before their seats are vacant. The powers and privileges which the twelve were to exercise exclu- sively, are now to be exercised by others. By one of the acts, they are subjected to heavy penalties if they exercise their offices, or any of those powers and privi- leges granted them by charter, and which tliey had exercised for fifty years. They are to be punished for not accepting the new grant and taking its benefits. This, it must be confessed, is rather a sum- mary mode of settling a question of con- stitutional right. Not only are new trustees forced into the corporation, but new trusts and uses are created. The college is turned into a university. Power is given to create new colleges, and, to authorize any diversion of the funds wliich may be agreeable to the new- boards, sulhcieut latitude is given by the undefined power of establishing an institute. To these new colleges, and this institute, the funds contributed by the founder. Dr. Wheelock, and by the original donors, the Earl of Dartmouth and others, are to be appliedf in plain and manifest disregard of the uses to which they were given. The president, one of the old trusteea, had a right to his office, salary, and emoluments, subject to the twelve trus- tees alone. Ilis title to these Is now changed, and he is made accountable to new masters. So also all the professors and tutors. If the legislature can at pleasure make these alterations and changes in the rights and privileges of the plaintiffs, it may, with equal pro- priety, abolish these rights and privi- leges altogether. The same power which can do any part of this work can accom- plish the whole. And, indeed, the ar- gument on which these acts have been hitherto defended goes altogether on the ground, that this is such a corporation as the legislature may abolish at pleas- ure ; and that its members have no riijhis, liberties, franchises, properly, or pricileyes, which the legislatm'e may not revoke, annul, alienate, or transfer to others, whenever it sees fit. It will be contended by the plaintiffs, that these acts are not valid and binding on them without their assent, — 1. Because they are against common riiiht, and the Constitution of New Hampshire. 2. Because they are repugnant to the Constitution of the United States. I am aware of the limits w hich bound the jurisdiction of the com-t in this case, and that on this record nothing can be decided but the single question, whether these acts are repugnant to the Consti- tution of the United States. Yet it may assist in forming an opinion of their true nature and character to compare them with those fundamental prmciples introduced into the State governments for the purpose of luniting the exercise of the legislative power, and which the Constitution of New Hampshire ex- presses with great fulness and accu- racy. THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. It is not too much to assert, that the legislature of New Ilampsliire would not have been competent to pass the acts in question, and to make them binding on the plaintiffs without their assent, even if there had been, in the Constitution of Xew Hampshire, or of the United States, no special restriction on their power, be- cause these acts are not the exercise of a power properly legislative.* Their effect and object are to take away, from one, rights, property, and franchises, and to grant them to another. This is not the exercise of a legislative power. To jus- tify the taking away of vested rights there must be a forfeiture, to adjudge upon and declare which is the proper province of the judiciary. Attainder and confiscation are acts of sovereign power, not acts of legislation-. The British Par- liament, among other unlimited pow- ers, claims that of altering and vacating charters ; not as an act of ordinary legis- lation, but of uncontrolled authority. It is theoretically omnipotent. Yet, in modern times, it has very rarely at- tempted the exercise of this power. In a celebrated instance, those who asserted this power in Parliament vindicated its exercise only in a case in which it could be shoxNTi, 1st. That the charter in ques- tion was a charter of political power; 2d. That there was a great and over- ruling state necessity, justifying the A-io- lation of the charter ; 3d. That the char- ter had been abused and justly forfeited. ^ The bill affecting this charter did not pass. Its history is well known. The act which afterwards did pass, passed with, the assent of the corporation. Even in the worst times, this power of Parlia- ment to repeal and rescind charters has not often been exercised. The illegal proceedings in the reign of Charles the Second were under color of law. Judg- ments of forfeiture were obtained in the courts. Such was the case of the quo u-arranto against the city of London, and 1 Calder et ux. v. Bull, 3 Dallas, 336. 2 Annual Register, 178-t, p. IGO; Pari. Reg. 1783; Mr. Burke's Speech on Mr. Fox's East India Bill, Burke's Works, Vol. H. pp. 4U,417, 467, 468. 436. 8 1 Black. 472, 473 the proceedings by which the charter of Massachusetts was vacated. The legislature of Xew Hampshire has no more power over the rights of the plaintiffs than existed somewhere, in some department of government, before the Revolution. The P>ritish Parliament could not have annulled or revoked this grant as an act of ordinary legislation. If it had done it at all, it could only have been in virtiie of that sovereign power, called omnipotent, which does not belong to any legislature in the United States. The legislature of ISTew Hampshire has the same power over this charter which belonged to the king who granted it, and no more. By the law of England, the power to create cor- porations is a part of the royal preroga- tive. ^ By the Revolution, this power may be considered as having devolved on the legislature of the State, and it has accordingly been exercised by the legislature. But the king cannot abol- ish a corporation, or new-model it, or alter its powers, without its assent. This is the acknowledged and well-known doctrine of the. common law. " What- ever might have been the notion in for- mer times," says Lord Mansfield, " it is most certain now that the corporations of the universities are lay coi^porations ; and that the crown cannot take away from them any rights that have been formerly subsisting in them under old charters or prescriptive usage." * After forfeiture duly found, the king may re- grant the franchises ; but a grant of franchises already gi-anted, and of which no forfeiture has been found, is void. Coi"porate franchises can only be for- feited by trial and judgTuent.' In case of a new charter or grant to an existing corporation, it may accept or reject it as it pleases.® It may accept such part of the grant as it chooses, and reject the rest.'' In the very nature of things, a charter cannot be forced upon any body. 4 3 Burr. 16.56. 6 King V. Pa.sniore, 3 Term Rep. 244. 6 King r. Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge, 3 Burr. 1656 ; 3 Term Kep. 240, — Lord Kenyon. T 3 Burr. 1661, and King v. Pasmore, ubi supra. 6 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. No one can be compelled to accept a grant ; and without acceptance the grant is necessarily void.^ It cannot be pre- tended that the legislature, as successor to the king in this part of his preroga- tive, has any power to revoke, vacate, or alter this charter. If, therefore, the legislature has not this power by any specific grant contained in the Constitu- tion; nor as included in its ordinary legislative powers ; nor by reason of its succession to the prerogatives of the crown in this particular, on what gi-ound would the authority to pass these acts rest, even if there were no proliibitory clauses in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights ? But there are prohibitions in the Con- stitution and Bill of Rights of Xew Hampshire, introduced for the pm-pose of limiting the legislative power and pro- tecting the rights and property of the citizens. One prohibition is, " that no person shall be deprived of his property, immunities, or privileges, put out of the protection of the law, or deprived of his life, liberty, or estate, but by judg- ment of his peers or the law of the land." In the opinion, however, which was given in the court below, it is denied that the trustees under the charter had any property, inuumiity, lilierty, or privilege in this corporation, within the meaning of this prohibition in the Bill of Rights. It is said that it is a public corporation and public property; that the trustees have no greater interest in it than any other individuals ; that it is not private property, Avhich they can sell or transmit to their heirs, and that there- fore they have no interest in it; that their office is a public trust, like that of tlie Governor or a judge, and that they have no more concern in the property of the college than the Governor in the property of the State, or than the judges in the fines which they impose on the culprits at tlieir bar; that it is nothing to them whether their powers shall be extended or lessened, any more than it is to their honors whether their jurisdic- 1 Ellis r. Marshall, 2 Mass. Rep. 277 ; 1 Kyd on Corporations, C5, C6. tion shall be enlarged or diminished. It is necessary, therefore, to inquire into the true nature and character of the cor- poration which was created by the char- ter of 17G9. Tliere are divers sorts of corporations ; and it may be safely admitted that the legislature has more power over some than others.2 Some coi-porations are for government and political arrangement; such, for example, as cities, counties, and towns in Xew England. These may be changed and modified as public convenience may require, due regard be- ing always had to the rights of property. Of such corporations, all who live with- in the limits are of course obliged to be members, and to submit to the duties which the law imposes on them as such. Other civil corporations are for the ad- vancement of trade and business, such as banks, insurance companies, and the like. These are created, not by general law, but usually by grant. Their con- stitution is special. It is such as the legislature sees fit to give, and the gran- tees to accept. The corporation in question is not a civil, although it is a lay corporation. It is an eleemosynary cori^oration. It is a private charity, originally founded and endowed by an individual, witli a char- ter obtained for it at his request, for the better administration of his charity. " The eleemosynary sort of corporations are such as are constituted for the per- petual distributions of the free alms or bounty of the founder of them, to such persons as he has directed. Of this are all hospitals for the maintenance of the poor, sick, and impotent; and all col- leges both in our univer.-^ities and out of them. " ^ Eleemosynary corporations are for the management of private property, accordinsr to the will of the donors Tliey are private corporations. A col- lege is as nnich a private coiporation as a hospital; especially a college founded, as this was, by private bounty. A col- lecre is a charitv. " The establishment of learning," says Lord Ilardwicke, ■' ia a charity, and so considered in the statr 2 1 Woodilofon, 474 ; 1 Hlaik. 4G7. 8 1 Black. 471. THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. nte of Elizabeth. A devise to a college, for their benefit, is a laudable charity, and deserves encourag(MU(>nt." ^ Tiie legal signification of a charity is derived chiefly from the statute 43 Eliz. ch. 4. " Tliose purposes," says Sir Wil- liam Grant, " are considered charitable which that statute enumerates." ^ Col- leges are enumerated as charities in that statute. The government, in these cases, lends its aid to perpetuate the be- neficent intention of the donor, by grant- ing a charter under wliich his private charity shall continue to be dispensed after his death. This is done either by incorporating the objects of the charity, as, for instance, the scholars in a college or the poor in a hospital, or by incorpo- rating those who are to be governors or trustees of the charity.^ In cases of the first sort, the founder is, by the common law, visitor. In early times it became a maxim, that he who gave the property might regulate it in future. " Cujus est dare, ejus est disponere." This I'ight of visitation descended from the founder to his heir as a right of property, and pre- cisely as his other property went to his heir ; and in default of heirs it went to the king, as all other property goes to the king for the want of heirs. The right of visitation arises from the prop- erty. It grows out of the endowment. The foimder may, if he please, part with it at the time when he establishes the charity, and may vest it in others. Therefore, if he chooses that governors, trustees, or overseers should be appointed in the charter, he may cause it to be done, and his power of visitation may be transferred to them, instead of descend- ing to his heirs. The persons thus as- signed or appointed by the founder will be visitors, with all the powers of the founder, in exclusion of his heir.'' The right of visitation, then, accrues to them, as a matter of property, by the gift, transfer, or appointment of the founder. This is a private right, which they can assert in all legal modes, and in which they have the same protection of the law » 1 Ves. 537. 2 9 Ves. Jun. 405. « 1 Wood. 474. * 1 Black. 471. 6 2 Term Rep. 350, 351. as in all other rights. As visitors they may make rules, ordinances, and stat- utes, and alter and repeal them, as far as permitted so to do by the charter. Although the charter proceeds from the crown or the government, it is considered as the will of the donor. It is obtained at his request. He imposes it as the rule whicli is to prevail in the dispensa- tion of his bounty in all future times. The king or government which giants the charter is not thereby the founder, but he who furnishes the funds. The gift of the revenues is the founda- tion. ^ The leading case on this subject is Phillips V. BuryJ This was an eject- ment brought to recover the rectory- house, &c. of Exeter College in Oxford. The question was whether the plaintiff or defendant was legal rector. Exeter College was founded by an individual, and incorporated by a charter gi'anted by Queen Elizabeth. The controversy turned upon the pow-er of the visitor, and, in the discussion of the cause, the natm'e of college charters and corpora- tions was very fully considered. Lord Holt's judgment, copied from his own manuscript, is found in 2 Term Reports. 346. The foUowdng is an extract: — " That we may the better apprehend tlie nature of a visitor, we are to consider that there are in law two sorts of corpora- tions aggregate ; such as are for public gov- ernment, and such as are for private charity. Those that are for the public government of a town, city, mystery, or the like, being for public advantage, are to be governed according to the laws of the land. If they make any particular private laws and con- stitutions, the validity and justice of them is examinable in the king's courts. Of these there are no particular private founders, .and consequently no particular visitor; there are no patrons of these; therefore, if no provision be in the charter how the suc- cession shall continue, the law supplicth the defect of that constitution, and saith it shall be by election ; as mayor, aldermen, com- mon council, and the like. But private and particular corporations for charity, founded and endowed b}- private persons, are sub- ject to the private government of those who erect them ; and therefore, if there be 8 1 Black. 480. - 1 Lord Raymond, 5 ; Comb. 265 ; Holt, 715; 1 Shower, 300; 4 Mod. 106; Skinn. 44^ THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. no risitor appointed by the founder, the law appoints the founder and his heirs to be visitors, who are to act and proceed accord- ing to the particular laws and constitutions assigned them by the founder. It is now admitted on all hands that the founder is patron, and, as founder, is visitor, if no par- ticular visitor be assigned ; so that patron- age and visitation are necessary consequents one upon another. For this visitatorial power was not introduced by any canons or constitutions ecclesiastical (as was said by a learned gentleman whom I have in my eye, in his argument of this case) ; it is an appointment of law. It ariseth from the property which the founder had in the lands assigned to support tiio charity ; and as he is the author of the charity, the law gives him and his heirs a visitatorial power, that is, an authority to inspect the actions and regulate the behavior of the members that partake of the charity. For it is fit the members that are endowed, and that have the charity bestowed upon them, should not be left to themselves, but pursue the intent and design of him that bestowed it upon them. Now, indeed, where the poor, or those that receive the dtarity, are not incorpo- rated, but there are certain trustees who dispose of the charity, there is no visitor, because the in- terest of the revenue is not vested in the poor that have the benefit of the charity, but they are sub- ject to the orders and directions of the trustees. But where they who are to erijoy the ben- efit of the charity are incorporated, there to prevent all perverting of the charity, or to compose differences that may happen among them, there is by law a visitatorial power ; and it being a creature of the founder's own, it is reason that he and his heirs should have that power, unless by the founder it is vested in some other. "Now there is no manner of difference between a college and a hospital, except only in de- gree. A hospital is for those that are poor, and mean, and low, and sickly ; a college is for anotlier sort of indigent persons ; but it hath another intent, to study in and breed up persons in the world tiiathave no otlier- wise to live; but still it is as much within the reasons as hospitals. And if in a hos- pital the master and poor are incorporated, it is a college having a common seal to act by. although it hath not the name of a col- lege (which always supposeth a corpora- tion), because it is of an inferior degree; and in the one case and in the other there must be a visitor, either the founder and his heirs or one appointed by him; and both are eleemosynary." Lord Holt concludes his whole argu- ment by again repeating, that that col- lego wa,s a private corporation, and that the founder had a right to api^oint a vLs- 1 1 Lord Raymond, 9. itor, and to give him such power as he saw fit.^ The learned Bishop Stillingfleet's ar- gument in the same cause, as a member of the House of Lords, when it was there heard, exhibits very clearly the nature of colleges and similar corpora- tions. It is to the following effect "That this absolute and conclusive power of visitors is no more than the law hath appointed in other cases, upon commissions of charitable uses : that the common law, and not any ecclesiastical canons, do place the power of visitation in the founder and his heirs, unles.f he settle it upon others: that although cor- porations for public government be sub- ject to the courts of Westminster Hall, which have no particular or special visitors, yet corporations for charity, foimded and endowed by private per- sons, are subject to the rule and govern- ment of those that erect them; but where the persons to whom the charity is given are not incorporated, there is no such visitatorial power, because the in- terest of the revenue is not invested in them; but where they are, the right of visitation ariseth from the foundation, and the founder may convey it to whom and in what manner he pleases; and the visitor acts as founder, and by the same authority which he had, and consequently is no more accountable than he had been: that the king by his charter can make a society* to be incorporated so as to have the rights belonging to persons, as to legal capacities: that colleges, although founded by private persons, are yet in- corporated by the king's charter; but al- though the kings by their charter made the colleges to be such in law, that is, to be legal corporations, yet they left to the particular founders authority to apjioint what statutes they thought fit for tlie regulation of them. And not only the statutes, but the appointment of visitors, was left to them, and the manner of gov- ernment, and the several conditions on which any persons were to be made or continue partakers of their bomity." - These opinions received the sanction 2 1 Burn's Eccles. Law, 443, Appendix No. 3 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. 9 of the House of Lords, and they seem to be settled and undoubted law. Where there is a charter, A-esting proper powers in trustees, or governors, they are visit- ors; and there is no control in anybody else; except only that the courts of equity or of law will interfere so far as to preserve the revenues and prevent the perversion of the funds, and to keep the visitors within their prescribed bounds. "K there be a charter with proper powers, the charity must be regulated in the manner prescribed by the charter. There is no gi-ouud for the controlling interposition of the coiuis of chancery. The interposition of the courts, there- fore, in those instances in which the charities were founded on charters or by act of Parliament, and a visitor or gov- ernor and trustees appointed, must be referred to the general jurisdiction of the courts in all cases in which a trust conferred appears to have been abused, and not to an original right to direct the management of the charity, or the con- duct of the governors or trustees." ^ " The original of all visitatorial power is the property of the donor, and the power every one has to dispose, dkect, and reg- ulate his own property; like the case of patronage; cujus est dare, &c. There- fore, if either the cro^\^l or the subject creates an eleemosynary foundation, and vests the charity in the persons who are to receive the benefit of it, since a con- test might arise about the government of it, the law allows the founder or his heirs, or the person specially appointed by him to be visitor, to determine con- cerning his own creature. If the charity is not vested in the persons who are to partake, but in trustees for their benefit, no visitor can arise by implication, but the trustees have that power." 2 f ' ' There is nothing better established, ' ' says Lord Commissioner Eyre, "than that this court does not entertain a general jm-isdiction, or regulate and 1 2 Focb. 205, 20G. - Green v Rutherforth, 1 Ves. 472, per Lord Hardwicke. 3 Attornev -General v. Foupdling Hospital, 2 Ves. .Tun. 47. See also 2 Kyd on Corpora- tions, 195 ; Cooper's Equity Pleading, 292. control charities estahlished hy charter. There the establishment is fixed and determined ; and the court has no poM-er to vary it. If the governors established for the regidation of it are not those who have the management of the rev- enue, this court has no jurisdiction, and if it is ever so much abused, as far as it respects the jurisdiction of this court it is without remedy ; but if those established as governors have also the management of the revenues, this com-t does assume a jurisdiction of necessity, so far as they are to be considered as trustees of the revenue." ^ " The foiuidations of colleges," says Lord IMansfield, "are to be considered in two views; namely, as they are cnr- porations and as they are eleemosynary. As eleemosynary, they are the creatures of the founder; he may delegate his power, either generally or specially ; he may prescribe particular modes and man- ners, as to the exercise of i)art of it. If he makes a general visitor (as by the general words visitator sit) , the person so constituted has all incidental ])ower ; but he may be restrained as to particular in- stances. The founder may appoint a special visitor for a particular purpose, and no further. The founder may make a general \dsitor ; and yet appoint an in- ferior particular power, to be executed without going to the visitor in the first instance. ' ' ■* And even if the king be founder, if he grant a charter, incoi-po- rating trustees and governors, they are visitors, and the king cannot visit. ^ A subsequent donation, or mgrafted fel- lowship, falls under the same general visitatorial power, if not otherwise spe- cially provided." In New England, and perhaps through- out the United States, eleemos^Tiary cor- porations have been generally established in the latter mode ; that is, by incorpo- rating governors, or trustees, and vesting in them the right of visitation. Small * St. John's College, Cambridge, v. Toding- ton, 1 Burr. 200. 6 Attomev-General v. Middleton, 2 Ves. 328. 6 Green v. HutherfoTth, ubi supra St. John'i College V. Todington, ubi supra. 10 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. / variations may have been in some in- stances adopted; as in the case of Har- vard CoUeg'r, where some power of inspection is given to the overseers, but not, strictly speaking, a visitatorial power, which still belongs, it is appre- hended, to the fellows or members of the corporation. In general, there are many donors. A charter is obtained, comprising them all, or some of them, and such others as they choose to include, walh the right of appointing successors. They are thus the visitors of then- otati charity, and appoint others, such as they may see fit, to exercise the same office in time to come. All such coi-porations Are private. The case before the court is clearly that of an eleemosynary cor- poration. It is, in the strictest legal sense, a private charity. In King v. St. Catherine's Hall,i that college is called a private eleemosynary lay cor- poration. It was endowed by a private founder, and incorporated by letters patent. And in the same manner was Dartmouth College founded and incor- porated. Dr. Wheelock is declared by the charter to be its founder. It was established by him , on funds contributed and collected by himself. As such founder, he had a right of visitation, which he assigned to the trus- tees, and they received it by his consent and appointment, and held it under the charter. ■■^ He appointed these trustees visitors, and in that respect to take j^lace of his heir ; as he might have ajipointed devisees, to take his estate instead of his heir. Little, probably, did he think, at that time, that the legislature woidd ever take away this property and these privi- leges, and give them to others. Little did he suppose that this charter secured to him and his successors no legal rights. Little did the other donors think so. If they had, the college would have been, what the university is now, a thing upon paper, existing only in name. The numerous academies in Xew England have been established substan- tially in the same manner. They hold tlieir property by the same tenure, and » 4 Term Rep. 233. no other. Nor has Harvard College any surer title than Dartmouth College. It may to-day have more friends ; but to- morrow it may have more enemies. Its -^ legal rights are the same. So also of Yale College; and, indeed, of all the others. "\Mien the legislature gives to these institutions, it may and does ac- company its grants with such conditions as it pleases. The grant of lands by the legislature of New Hampshire to Dartmoutli College, in 1789, was accom- panied with various conditions. "When donations are made, by the legislature or others, to a charity already existing, without any condition, or the specifica- tion of any new use, the donation fol- lows the nature of the charity. Hence the doctrine, that all eleemosvTiary cor- porations are private bodies. They are foimded by private persons, and on pri- vate property. The public cannot be charitable in these institutions. It is not the money of the public, but of pri- vate persons, which is dispensed. It may be public, that is general, in its uses and advantages ; and the State may very laudably add contributions of its own to the funds; but it is still private in tlie tenure of the property-, and m the right of administering the funds. If the doctrine laid down by Lord Holt, and the House of Lords, in Plililips V. Bury, and recognized and es- tablished in all the other cases, be cor- rect, the property of this college was private property; it was vested in the trustees by the charter, and to be ad- ministered bv them, according to the will of the founder and donors, as ex- pressed in the charter. They were also visitors of the charity, in the most ample sense. They had, therefore, as they contend, privileges, property, and im- munities, within the true meaning of the Bill of Rights. They had rights, and still have them, which they can assert against the legislature, as well as against other wrong-doers. It makes no difference, that the estate is holden for certain trusts. The legal estate is still theirs. They have a right in the 2 Black, ubi supra THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. 11 property, and they have a right of visit- ing and superintending the trust; and this is an object of legal protection, as much as any other right. The charter declares that the powers conferred on the trustees are " privileges, advantages, liberties, and immunities"; and that they shall be for ever holden by them and their successors. The New Ilamp- ehire Bill of Rights declares that no one ehall be deprived of his " property, priv- ileges, or immunities," but by judg- ment of his peers, or the law of the land. The argument on the other side is, that, althougli these terms may mean some- thing in the Bill of Rights, they mean nothing in this charter. But they are terms of legal signification, and very properly used in the charter. They are equivalent with franchhes. Blackstone says th^t franchise and liberti/ are used as sjmonymous terms. And after enu- merating other liberties and franchises, he says: " It is likewise a franchise for a number of persons to be incorporated and subsist as a body politic, with a power to maintain perpetual succession and do otlier corporate acts; and each individual member of such a corporation is also said to have a franchise or free- dom." i Liberties is the term used in Magna Charta as including franchises, privi- leges, immunities, and all the rights which belong to that class. Professor Sullivan says, the term signifies the it privileges that some of the subjects, whether single persons or bodies cor- porate, have above others by the lawful grant of the king; as the chattels of felons or outlaws, and the lands and privileges of corporations.''^ ^ The privilege, then, of being a mem- ber of a corporation, under a lawful grant, and of exercising the rights and powers of such member, is such a privi- lege, liberty, or franchise, as has been the object of legal protection, and the subject of a legal interest, from the tune of Magna Charta to the present moment. Tlie plaintiffs have such an interest in 1 2 Black. Com. 37. « Sull. 41st Lect. this coqwration, individually, as they could assert and maintain in a court of law, not as agents of the public, but 'n their o"\vn right. Each trustee has a franchise, and if he be distm-bed in the enjojTnent of it, he would have redress, on appealing to the law, as promptly as for any other injiuy. If the other trus- tees should conspire against any one of them to prevent his equal right and voice in the appointment of a president or professor, or in the passing of any statute or ordinance of the college, he would be entitled to his action, for de- priving him of his franchise. It makes no difference, that this property is to be holden and administered, and these franchises exercised, for the purpose of diffusing learning. No principle and no case establishes any such distinction. The public may be benefited by the use of this property. But this does not change the nature of the property, or the rights of the owners. The object of the charter may be public good ; so it is in all other corporations ; and this would as well justify the resumption or viola- tion of the grant in any other case as in this. In the case of an advowson, the use is public, and the right cannot be turned to any private benefit or emolu- ment. It is nevertheless a legal private right, and the property of the owmer, as emphatically as his freehold. The rights and privileges of trustees, visit- ors, or governors of incorporated col- leges, stand on the same foundation. They are so considered, both by Lord Holt and Lord Ilardwicke.^ To contend that the rights of the plaintiifs may be taken away, because they derive from them no pecuniary benefit or private emolument, or be- cause they cannot be transmitted to their heirs, or would not be assets to pay their debts, is taking an extremely narrow view of the subject. According to this notion, the case would be differ- ent, if, in the charter, they had stipu- lated for a commission on the disbm'se- ment of the funds ; and they have ceased 8 Phillips V. Bury, and Green r. Rutheiforth, ubi supra. See also 2 Black. 21. 12 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. to liavc any interest in the property, because they have undertaken to ad- minister it gratuitously. It cannot be necessary to say much in refutation of the idea, that there cannot be a legal interest, or o^v'nership, in any thing which does not yield a pecuniary profit; as if the law regarded no rights but the rights of money, and of visible, tangible property. Of what nature are all rights of suffrage? No elector has a particular personal interest; but each has a legal right, to be exercised at his own discretion, and it cannot be taken away from him. The exercise of this right directly and very materially affects the public ; much more so than the ex- ercbe of the privileges of a trustee of this college. Consequences of the ut- most magnitude may sometimes depend on the exercise of the right of suffrage by one or a few electors. Xobody was ever yet heard to contend, however, that on that account the public might take away the right, or impair it. This notion appears to be borrowed from no better soiu'ce than the repudiated doc- trine of the three judges in the Ayles- bury case.^ That was an action against a retiu'ning officer for refusing the plain- tiff's vote, in the election of a member of Parliament. Three of the judges of the King's liench held, that the action could not be maintained, because, among other objections, " it was not any mat- ter of profit, either in presend, or in futuro." It would not enrich the plain- tiff /n presenti, nor would it in futuro go to his heirs, or answer to pay his debts. But Lord Holt and the House of Lords were of another opinion. The judg- ment of the three judges was reversed, lud the doctrine they held, having been exploded for a century, seems now for the first time to be revived. Individuals have a right to use their own property for purposes of benevo- lence, either towards the public, or towards other individuals. They have a right to exercise this benevolence in such lawful manner as they may choose ; and when the government has induced 1 Ashby V. White, 2 Lord Raymond, 938. and excited it, by contracting to give perpetuity to the stipulated manner of exercising it, it is not law, but violence, to rescind this contract, and seize on the property. Whether the State will grant these franchises, and under what condi- tions it will grant them, it decides for itself. But when once granted, the con- stitution holds them to be sacred, till forfeited for just cause. That all property, of which the use may be beneficial to the public, belongs therefore to the public, is quite a new doctrine. It has no precedent, and ia supported by no kno\vn principle. Dr. Wheelock might have answered his pur- poses, in this case, by executing a pri- vate deed of trust. He might have conveyed his property to trustees, for precisely such uses as are described in this charter. Indeed, it appears that he had contemplated the establishing of his school in that manner, and had made his will, and devised the property* to the same persons who were after- wards appointed trustees in the charter. Many literary and other charitable in- stitutions are founded in that manner, and the trust is renewed, and conferred on other persons, from time to time, as occasion may require. In such a case, no law}-er would or could say, that the legislature might divest the trustees, constituted by deed or will, seize upon the property, and give it to other per- sons, for other purposes. And does the granting of a charter, which is only done to perpetuate the trust in a more convenient manner, make any differ- ence? Does or can this change tlie nature of the charity, and turn it into a public political corporation? Happily, we are not without authority on this point. It has been considered and ad- judged. Lord Hardwicke says, in so many words, " The charter of the crown cannot make a charity more or less pub- lic, but only more j^ermanent than it would otlierwise be."^ The granting of the corjioration is but making the trust perpetual, and does not alter the nature of the charity. The 2 Attorney-General v. Pearce, 2 A'.k. 87. THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. 13 very object sought in obtaining such cliarter, and in giving pi-operty to such a corporation, is to make and keep it private property, and to clothe it with all the security and inviolability of pri- vate property. The intent is, that there shall be a legal private ownership, and that the legal owners shall maintain and protect the property, for the benefit of those for whose use it was designed. AVho ever endowed the public? Who ever appointed a legislatui-e to adminis- ter his charity? Or who ever heard, before, that a gift to a college, or a hos- pital, or au asylum, was, in reality, notliing but a gift to the State? The State of Vermont is a principal donor to Dartmouth College. The lands given lie in that State. This appears in the special verdict. Is Vermont to be considered as having intended a gift to the State of New Hampshire in this case, as, it has been said, is to be the reasonable construction of all donations to the college? The legislature of New Hampshire affects to represent the pub- lic, and therefore claims a right to con- trol all property destined to public use. "What hinders Vermont from consider- ing herself equally the representative of the public, and from resuming her grants, at her own pleasure? Her right to do so is less doubtful than the power of New Hampshii-e to pass the laws in question. In University v. Foy,'^ the Supreme Court of North Carolina pronounced un- constitutional and void a law repealing a gTant to the University of North Caro- lina, although that university was origi- nally erected and endowed by a statute of the State. That case was a grant of lauds, and the court decided that it could not be resumed. This is the grant of a power and capacity to hold lands. Where is the difference of the cases, upon principle? In Terrett v. Taylor,'^ this court de- cided that a legislative grant or confir- mation of lands, for the purposes of moral and religious instruction, could no more bo rescinded than other grants. 1 2 Haywood's Rep. 2 9 Cranch, 43. The nature of the use was not holden to make any difference. A grant to a par- ish or church, for the purposes which have been mentioned, cannot be distin- guished, in respect to the title it confers, from a grant to a coUege for the promo- tion of piety and learning. To the same purpose may be cited the case of Pawlett V. Clark. The State of Vermont, bj statute, in 1791, granted to the respec- tive towns in that State certain glebe lands lying within those towns for the sole use and support of religious wor- ship. In 1799, an act was passed to repeal the act of 1794; but this coui-t declared, that the act of 1791, "so far as it granted the glebes to the towns, could not afterwards be repealed by the legislature, so as to divest the rights of the towns under the grant. ' ' ^ ^^ It will be for the other side to show that the natm-e of the use decides the question whether the legislature has power to resume its grants. It will be for those who maintain such a doc- trine to show the principles and cases upon which it rests. It will be for them also to fix the limits and boundaries of their doctrine, and to show what are and what are not such uses as to give the legislature this power of resumption and revocation. And to furnish an answer to the cases cited, it will be for them further to show that a grant for the use and support of religious worship stands on other ground than a gTant for the promotion of piety and learning. I hope enough has been said to show that the trustees possessed vested liber- ties, privileges, and immunities, under this charter; and that such liberties, privileges, and immunities, being once lawfully obtained and vested, are as in- violable as any vested rights of property whatever. Rights to do certain acts, such, for instance, as the visitation and supermtendence of a college and the ap- pointment of its officers, may surely be vested rights, to all legal intents, as completely as the right to possess prop- erty. A late learned judge of this court 8 9 Cranch. 292. 14 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. has said, " AMien I say that a rigid is vested in a citizen, I mean that he has the power to do certain actions, or to possess certain things, according to the law of the land. "1 If such be the true nature of the plain- tiffs' interests under this charter, what are the articles in the Xew Hampshire Bill of Rights which these acts infringe? They infringe the second article; which say? J that the citizens of the State have a right to hold and possess prop- erty. The plaintiffs had a legal property in this charter; and they had acquired property under it. The acts deprive them of both. They impair and take away the charter ; and they appropriate the property to new uses, against their consent. The plaintiff's cannot now hold the property acquired by them- selves, and which this article says they have a right to hold. They infringe the twentieth article. By that article it is declared that, in questions of property, there is a right to trial. The plaintiffs are divested, with- out trial or judgment. They infringe the twenty-third article. It is therein declared that no retrospec- tive laws shall be passed. This article bears directly on the case. These acts must be deemed to be retrospective, within the settled construction of that term. "WTiat a retrospective law is, has been decided, on the construction of this very article, in the Circuit Court for the First Circuit. The learned judge of that circuit says : " Every statute which takes away or impairs vested rights, acquired mider existing laws, must be deemed retrospective." ^ That all such laws are retrospective was decided also in the case of Dash v. Van Kleek,^ where a most learned judge quotes this article from tLs constitution of New Hampshire, with manifest approbation, as a plain and clear expression of those fundamen- tal and unalterable principles of justice, whicli must lie at the foundation of 1 3 Dallas, 394. 2 SociLty V. Wlieeler, 2 Gul. 103. 8 7 .Fohnson's lu'p. 477. * Bractoii, Lib. 4. Ibl. 223. 2 Inst. 292. every fi-ee and just system of laws. Can any man deny that the plaintiffs had rights, under the charter, which were legally vested, and that by these acts those rights are unpaired? " It is a principle in the English law," says Chief Justice Kent, in the case last cited, " as ancient as the law itself, that a statute, even of its omnipotent Parlia- ment, is not to have a retrospective ef- fect. ' Xova constitutio futuris formam imponere debet, et uon pricteritis.' * The maxim in Bracton was taken from the civil law, for we find in that system the same principle, expressed substan- tially m the same words, that the law- giver cannot alter his mind to the prejudice of a vested right. ' Nemo potest mutare concilium suum in alterius injuriam.'o This maxim of Papiniau is general in its terms, but Dr. Taylor ' applies it directly as a restriction upon the lawgiver, and a declaration in the Code leaves no doubt as to the sense of the civil law. ' Leges et constitutiones futuris certum est dare formam negotiis, non ad facta pra?terita revocari, nisi uo- minatim, et de prajterito tempore, et ad- huc peudentibus negotiis cautum sit." ^ This passage, according to the best in- terpretation of the civilians, relates not merely to future suits, but to future, as contradistinguished from past, contracts and vested rights.^ It is indeed ad- mitted that the prince may enact a ret- rospective law, provided it be done ex- pressly ; for the will of the prince under the despotism of the Roman emperors was paramount to every obligation. Great latitude was anciently allowed to legislative expositions of statutes; for the separation of the judicial from tJie legislative power was not then distinctly known or prescribed. The prince was in the habit of interpreting his own laws for I)articular occasions. This was called the ' Interlocutio Principis'; and this, according to Huber's definition, w;i^, ' quando principes inter partes loquun- 6 Dij;. 50. 17. 75. « Kk'inents of tlie Civil Law, ^ 168. T Coil. 1. 14. 7. 8 I'erfzii l'r:i'li-ot. h. L THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGR CASE. 15 tur et jus diount.' ^ No correct civilian, and especially no proud admirer of the ancient republic (if any such then ex- isted), could have reflected on this inter- ference with private rights and pending suits without disgust and indignation; and we are rather surprised to find that, under the violent and arbitrary genius of the Roman government, the principle before us should have been acknowl- edged and obeyed to the extent in which we find it. The fact shows that it must be founded in the clearest justice. Our case is happily very different from that of the subjects of Justinian. "SVith us the power of the lawgiver is limited and defined; the judicial is regarded as a dis- tinctj independent power ; private rights are better understood and more exalted in public estimation, as well as secured by provisions dictated by the spirit of freedom, and unknown to the civil law. Our constitutions do not admit the power assumed by the Roman prince, and the principle we are considering is now to be regarded as sacred." These acts infringe also the thirty-sev- eath article of the constitution of New Hampshire; which says, that the powers of government shall be kept separate. By these acts, the legislatm-e assmnes to exercise a judicial power. It declares a forfeiture, and resumes franchises, once gi-anted, without trial or hearing. If the constitution be not altogether waste-paper, it has restrained the power of the legislature in these particulars. Lf it has any meaning, it is that the leg- islatiire shall pass no act directly and manifestly impairing private property and private privileges. It shall not judge by act. It shall not decide by act. It shall not deprive by act. But it shall leave all these things to be tried and adjudged by the law of the land. The fifteenth article has been referred to before. It declares that no one shall be "deprived of his property, immuni- ties, or privileges, but by the judgment of his peers or the law of the land." Notwithstanding the light in which the learned judges in New Hampshire viewed 1 Prxlect. Juris. Civ., Vol. II. p. 545 the rights of the plaintiffs xmder the charter, and which has been before ad- verted to, it is found to be admitted in their opinion, tliat those rights are priv- ileges within the meaning of this fif- teenth article of the Bill of Rights. Hav- ing quoted that article, they say: " That the right to manage the affairs of this college is a privilege, within the mean- ing of this clause of the Bill of Rights, is not to be doubted." In my humble opinion, this surrenders the point. To resist the effec* of this admission, how- ever, the learned judges add: " But how a privilege can be protected from the operation of the law of the land by a clause in the constitution, declaring that it shall not be taken away but by the law of the land, is not very easily under- stood. ' ' This answer goes on the ground, that the acts in question are laws of the land, within the meaning of the consti- tution. If they be so, the argument drawn from this article is f uUy answered. If they be not so, it being admitted that the plaintiffs' rights are "privileges," within the meaning of the article, the argument is not answered, and the arti- cle is infringed by the acts. Are, then, these acts of the legislature, which affect only particular persons and their particidar privileges, laws of the land ? Let this question be answered by the text of Blackstone. " And first it (i. e. law) is a rule: not a transient, sud- den order from a superior to or concern- ing a particular person ; but somethhig permanent, uniform, and universal. Therefore a particular act of the legis- lature to confiscate the goods of Titius, or to attaint him of high treason, does not enter into the idea of a municipal law ; for the operation of this act is spent upon Titius only, and has no re- lation to the community in general ; it is rather a sentence than a law."* Lord Coke is equally decisive and emphatic. Citing and commenting on the celebrated twenty-ninth chapter of Magna Charta, he says: "No man shall be disseized, &c., unless it be by the lawful judg- ment, that is, verdict of equals, or by 2 1 Black. Com. 44 16 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. the law of the land, that is (to sj^eak it once for all), by the due course and process of law."^ Have the plaintiffs lost their franchises by " due course and process of law " V On the contraiy, are not these acts "particular acts of the legislature, which have no relation to the community in general, and which are rather sentences than laws" V By the law of the land is most clearly intended the general law; a law which hears before it condemns; which pro- ceeds upon inquiry, and renders judg- ment only after trial. The meaning is, that eveiy citizen shall hold his life, lib- erty, property, and immunities under the protection of the general rules which govern society. Every thing which may pass under the form of an enactment is not therefore to be considered the law of the land. If this were so, acts of attainder, bills of pains and penalties, acts of confiscation, acts reversing judg- ments, and acts directly transferring one man's estate to another, legislative judg- ments, decrees, and forfeitures in all possible forms, would be the law of the land. Such a strange construction would render constitutional provisions of the highest importance completely inopera- tive and void. It would tend directly to establish the union of all powers in the legislature. There would be no general, permanent law for courts to administer or men to live under. The administra- tion of justice would be an empty form, an idle ceremony. Judges would sit to execute legislative judgments and de- crees; not to declare the law or to ad- minister the justice of the country. " Is that the law of the land," said Mr. Burke, "upon which, if a man go to AVestminster Hall, and ask counsel by what title or tenure he holds his privi- lege or estate according to (he law of t/ie land, he should be told, that the law of the land is not yet known ; that no de- cision or decree has been made in his case ; that when a decree shall be passed, he will then know tvhat the law of the land is f Will this be said to be the law 1 Coke, 2 Inst. 46. of the land, by any lawyer who has a rag of a gown left upon his back, err a wig -ft-ith one tie upon his head ? " That the power of electing and ap- pointing the oflBcers of this college is not only a right of the trustees as a corpora- tion, generally, and in the aggregate, but that each individual trustee has also his own individual franchise in such right of election and appointment, is accord- ing to the language of all the authorities. Lord Holt says : " It is agreeable to rea- son and the rules of law, that a franchise should be vested in the corporation ag- gregate, and yet the benefit of it to re- dound to the particular members, and to be enjoyed by them in their private capacity. AVhere the privilege of elec- tion is used by particular persons, i'^ is a particular right, vested in every particular man "2 It is also to be considered, that the president and professors of this college have rights to be affected by these acts. Their interest is similar to that of fel- lows in the English colleges; because they derive their living, wholly or in part, from the founders' bounty. The president is one of the trustees or cor- porators. The professors are not neces- sarDy members of the corporation ; but they are appointed by the trustees, are removable only by them, and have fixed salaries payable out of the general funds of the college. Both president and pro- fessors have freeholds in their offices; subject only to be removed by the trus- tees, as their legal visitors, for good cause. All the authorities speak of fel- lowships in colleges as freeholds, not- withstanding the fellows may be liable to be suspended or removed, for misbe- havior, by their constituted visitors. Nothing could have been less expected, in this aire, than that there should have been an attempt, by acts of the legis- lature, to take away these college liv- ings, the inadequate but the only support of literary men who have devoted their lives to the instruction of youth. The president and professors were appointed by the twelve trustees. They were ao * 2 Lord Rajinond, 862. THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. 17 countable to nobody else, and could be removed by nobody else. They accepted their offices on this tenui'e. Yet the legislature has appointed other persons, with power to remove these officers and to deprive them of their livings ; and those other persons have exercised that power. No description of private prop- erty has been regarded as more sacred than college livings. They are the estates and freeholds of a most deserv- ing class of men ; of scholars who have consented to forego the advantages of professional and public emplojTnents, and to devote themselves to science and literature and the instruction of youth in the quiet retreats of academic life. ■Whether to dispossess and oust them; to deprive them of their office, and to turn them out of then- livings; to do this, not by the power of theu- legal visitors or governors, but by acts of the legislatuie, and to do it without forfeit- ui'e and without fault ; whether all this be not in the highest degree an inde- fensible and arbitrary proceeding, is a question of which there would seem to be but one side fit for a lawyer or a scholar to espouse. Of all the attempts of James the Sec- ond to overtm-n the law, and the rights of his subjects, none was esteemed more arbitrary or tyi-annical than his attack on Magdalen College, Oxford; and yet that attempt was nothing but to put out one president and put in another. The president of that college, according to the charter and statutes, is to be chosen by the fellows, who are the corporators. There being a vacancy, the king chose to take the appointment out of the hands of the fellows, the legal electors of a president, into his own hands. He there- fore sent down his mandate, command- ing the fellows to admit for president a person of his nomination; and, inas- much as this was directly against the charter and constitution of the college, he was pleased to add a non obstante clause of siifficiently comprehensive im- port. The fellows were commanded to admit the person mentioned in the man- date, "any statute, custom, or constitu- tion to tlie contrary- notwithstanding, wherewith we are graciously pleased to dispense, in this behaK." The fellows refused obedience to this mandate, and Dr. Hough, a man of independence and character, was chosen president by the fellows, according to the charter and statutes. The king then assumed the power, in virtue of his prerogative, to send down certain commissioners to turu him out; which was done accordingly; and Parker, a creature suited to the times, put in his place. Because the president, who was rightfully and legally elected, ivould not deliver the keys, the doors were broken open. "The nation as well as the university," says Bishop Burnet, 1 "looked on all these proceed- ings with just indignation. It was thought an open piece of robbery and burglary when men, authorized by no legal commission, came and forcibly tm'ned men out of their possession and freehold." Mr. Hume, although a man of different temper, and of other senti- ments, in some respects, than Dr. Bur- net, speaks of this arbitrary- attempt of prerogative in terms not less decisive. "The president, and all the fellows," says he, "except two, who complied, were expelled the college, and Parker was put in possession of the office. This act of violence, of all those which were committed during the reign of James, ia perhaps the most illegal and arbitrary. When the dispensing power was the most strenuously insisted on by court huvyers, it had still been allowed that the statutes which regard private prop- erty could not legally be infringed by that prerogative. Yet, in this instance, it appeared that even these were not now secm-e from invasion. The privileges of a college are attacked ; men are illegally dispossessed of their property for adher- ing to their duty, to their oaths, and to their religion." This measure King James lived to repent, after repentance was too late "N^Tien the charter of London was re- stored, and other measm-es of violence were retracted, to avert the impending revolution, the expelled president and 1 Historj' of his own Times, Vol. III. o. 119. 1« THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. fellows of Magdalen College were per- mitted to resume their rights. It is evident that this was regarded as an arbitrary interference with private prop- ertJ^ Yet private property was no oth- erwise attacked than as a person was appointed to administer and enjoy the revenues of a college in a manner and by persons not authorized by the consti- tution of the college. A majority of the members of the corporation would not comply with the king's wishes. A minority would. The object was there- fore to make this minority a majority. To this end the king's commissioners were directed to interfere in the case, and they united with the two complying fellows, and expelled the rest; and thus effected a change in the government of the college. The language in which Mr. Hume and all other writers speak of this abortive attempt of oppression, shows that colleges were esteemed to be, as they truly are, private corporations, and the property and privileges which belong to them private property and private privileges. Court lawyers were found to justify the king in dispensing with the laws; that is, in assuming and exercising a legislative authority. But no la\n-er, not even a court lawyer, in the reign of King James the Second, as far as appears, was found to say that, even by this high authority, he could infringe the franchises of the fellows of a college, and take away their liv- ings. j\Ir. Hume gives the reason; it is, that such franchises were regarded, in a most emphatic sense, a.< private prop- erty.'^ If it could be made to appear that the trustees and the president and profes- sors held their oliices and franchises during the pleasure of the legislature, and tliat tiie property holden belonged to the State, then indeed the legislature have done no more than they had a right to do. But this is not so. The cliarter is a charter of privileges and itmnuiiities; and these are holden by the trustees expressly against the State for ever. 1 Sco a full account of this case in State rri«ls. 4th ed.. Vol. IV. p. 2U2. It is admitted that the State, by its courts of law, can enforce the ^iU of the donor, and compel a faitlrful execution of the trust. The plaintiffs claim no exemption from legal responsibility. They hold themselves at all times an- swerable to the law of the land, for their conduct in the trust committed to them. They ask only to hold the proi->erty of which they are owners, and the fran- chises which belong to them, until they shall be foimd, by due course aad pro- cess of law, to have forfeited them. It can make no difference whether the legislature exercise the power it has as- sumed by removing the trustees and the president and professors, du'ectly and by name, or by appointing others to expel them. The principle is the same, and in point of fact the result has been the same. If the entire franchise can- not be taken away, neither can it be es- sentially impaired. If the trustees are legal owners of the propeiiy, they are sole o'wners. If they are visitors, they are sole visitors. Xo one will be found to say, that, if the legislature may do what it has done, it may not do any tiling and every thing which it may choose to do, relative to the property of the corporation, and the privileges of its members and officers. If the view which has been taken of this question be at all correct, this was an eleemosynary corporation, a private charity. The property was private property. The trustees were visitors, and the right to hold the charter, ad- minister tlie funds, and visit and govern the college, was a franchise and privi- lege, solemnly granted to them. The use being public in no way diminishes their legal estate in the projierty, or their title to the franchise. There is no principle, nor any case, which declares that a gift to such a corporation is a gift to the public. The acts in question violate property. They take away privileges, immunities, and franchises. They deny to the trustees the protec- tion of the law ; and they ai-e retrospec- tive in their operation In all which respects they are against tlie constitu- tion of New Hampshire. THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. 19 The plaintiffs contend, in the second place, that the acts in question are re- pugnant to the tenth section of the first articlt of the Constitution of the United States. The material words of that sec- tion are: "No State shall pass any bill of attainder, ex jiost facto law, or law unpairing the obligation of con- tracts." The ol ject of these most important provisions in the national constitution has often been discussed, both here and elsewhere. It is exhibited with great clearness and force by one of the dis- tinguished persons who framed that in- strmnent. " Bills of attainder, ex post facto laws, and laws impairing the obli- gation of contracts, are contrary to the first principles of the social compact, and to every principle of sound legisla- tion. The two former are expressly prohibited by the declarations prefixed to some of the State constitutions, and all of them are prohibited by the spirit and scope of these fundamental charters. Our own experience has taught us, nevertheless, that additional fences against these dangers ought not to be omitted. Very properly, therefore, have the convention added this constitutional bulwark, m favor of personal security and private rights ; and I am much de- ceived, if they have not, in so doing, as faithfully consulted the genuine senti- ments as the midoubted interests of their constituents. The sober people of America are weary of the fluctuating policy which has directed the public councils. They have seen with regret, and with indignation, that sudden changes, and legislative interferences in cases affecting personal rights, be- come jobs in the hands of enterprising and influential speculators, and snares to the more industrious and less in- formed part of the community. They have seen, too, that one legislative in- terference is but the link of a long chain of repetitions; every subsequent inter- ference bemg naturally produced by the effects of the preceding." ^ It has ah-eady been decided in this 1 The Federalist, No. 44, by Mr. Madison. court, that a (jrant is a contract, wthm the meaning of this provision; and that a grant by a State is also a contract, aa much as the grant of an individual. In the case of Fletcher v. Peck- this court says : " A contract is a compact between two or more parties, and is either exec- utory or executed. An executory con- tract is one in which a party binds him- self to do, or not to do, a particular thing; such was the law under which the conveyance was made by the gov- ernment. A contract executed is one in which the object of contract is per- formed; and this, says Blackstone, dif- fers in nothing from a grant. The contract between Georgia and the pur- chasers was executed by the grant. A contract executed, as well as one which is executory, contains obligations bmd- ing on the parties. A grant, in its own nature, amounts to an extinguishment of the right of the grantor, and implies a contract not to reassert that right. If, under a fair construction of the Constitution, grants are comprehended under the term contracts, is a grant from the State excluded from the opera- tion of the provision? Is the clause to be considered as inhibiting the State from impairing the obligation of con- tracts between two individuals, but as excluding from that inhibition contracts made with itself? The words them- selves contain no such distinction. They are general, and are applicable to contracts of every description. If contracts made with the State are to be exempted from their operation, the ex- ception must arise from the character of the contracting party, not from the words which are employed. AVhatever respect might have been felt for the State sovereignties, it is not to be dis- guised that the fraraers of the Constitu- tion viewed with some apprehension the violent acts which might grow out of the feelings of the moment; and that the people of the United States, in adopting that in.strument, have mani- fested a determination to shield them- selves and their property from the 2 6 Cranch, 87. 20 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. effects of those sudden and strong pas- sions to -SN-hich men are exposed. The restrictions on tlie legislative power of the States are obviously founded in this sentiment; and the Constitution of the United States contains what may be deemed a bill of rights for the people of each State." It has also been decided, that a grant by a State before the Kevolution is as much to be protected as a grant since. ^ But the case of Terrell v. Taylor, before cited, is of all others most pertinent to the present argument. Indeed, the judgment of the court in that case seems to leave little to be argued or decided in this. "A private corpora- tion," say the court, "created by the legislature, may lose its franchises by a viisuaer ox a nonuser ol them; and they may be resumed by the government under a judicial judgment upon a quo warranlo to ascertain and enforce the forfeiture. This is the common law of the land, and is a tacit condition an- nexed to the creation of every such cor- poration. Upon a change of govern- ment, too, it may be admitted, that such exclusive privileges attached to a private corporation as are inconsistent Jrith the new government may be abol- ished. In respect, also, to public cor- porations which exist only for public purposes, such as counties, towns, cities, and so forth, the legislature may, under proper limitations, have a right to change, modify, enlarge, or restrain them, securing, however, the property for the uses of those for whom and at whose expense it was originally pur- chased. But that the legislatm-e can repeal statutes creating private corpora- tions, or confirming to them property already acquired under the faith of pre- vious laws, and by such repeal can vest the property of such corporations ex- clusively in the State, or dispose of the same to such purposes as they please, without the consent or default of the corporators, we are not prejiared to ad- mit; and we think ourselves standing 1 New Jersey v. Wilsim, 7 Crancli, 1G4. upon the principles of natural justice, ujx)n the fundamental laws of every free government, upon the spirit and lettei of the Constitution of the United States, and upon the decisions of most respect- able judicial tribunals, in resisting such a doctrine." This court, then, does not admit the doctrine, that a legislature can repeal statutes creating private corporations. If it cannot repeal them altogether, of course it cannot repeal any part of thorn, or impair them, or essentially alter them, without the consent of the corporators. If, therefore, it has been shown that this college is to be legarded as a private charity, this case is embraced within the very terms of that decision. A grant of corporate powers and privileges is as much a contract as a grant of land. What proves aU charters of this sort to be contracts is, that they must be ac- cepted to give them force and effect. If they are not accepted, they are void. And in the case of an existing corpora- tion, if a new charter is given it, it may even accept part and reject the rest. In Rex V. Vice-Chancellor of Cambridge,'^ Lord oVIansfield says: " There is a vast deal of difference between a new charter gianted to a new corporation, (who must take it as it is given.) and a new charter given to a corporation already in being, and acting either under a former charter or under prescriptive usage. The latter, a corporation already exist- ing, are not obliged to accept the new charter in tola, and to receive either all or none of it; they may act partly under it, and partly under their old charter or prescription. The validity of these new charters must tmii upon the acceptance of them." In the same case Mr. Justice Wilmot says: "It is the concui-renoe and acceptance of the university that gives the force to the charter of the crown." In the Ki>ic/\. Pasniore,^ Lord Kenyou obsers'es: " Some things are clear : when a corporation exists capable of discliarging its functions, the crown cannot obtrude another charter upon 2 3 Burr. 1G5G. 8 3 Term Kep. 240 THE DART.MOUTII COLLEGE CASE. 21 them ; they may either accept or re- ject it."i In all cases relative to cliarters, the acceptance of them is uniformly alleged in the pleadings. This shows the gen- eral understanding of the law, that they are gi-ants or contracts ; and that parties «,re necessary to give them force and va- idity. In King v. Dr. Astew,^ it is «aid: " The crown cannot oblige a man to be a corporator, without his consent ; he shall not be subject to the inconven- iences of it, -without accepting it and assenting to it." These terms, " accept- ance " and "assent," are the very lan- guage of contract. In Ellis v. Marshall,^ it was expressly adjudged that the nam- ing of the defendant among others, in an act of incorporation, did not of itself make him a corporator; and that his as- sent was necessary to that end. The court speak of the act of incorporation as a gi-ant, and observe: " That a man may refuse a grant, whether from the government or an individual, seems to be a principle too clear to require the support of authorities." But Justice Buller, in King v. Pasmore, fui'uishes, if possible, a still more dii'ect and ex- plicit authority. Speaking of a corpo- ration for government, he says: " I do not know how to reason on this point better than in the manner m-ged by one of the relator's counsel ; who considered the grant of incorporation to be a com- pact between the crown and a certain number of the subjects, the latter of whom undertake, in consideration of the privileges which are bestowed, to exert themselves for the good govern- ment of the place." This language ap- plies with peculiar propriety and force to the case before the court. It was in consequence of the ' ' privileges be- stowed,*' that Dr. Wheelock and his as- sociates undertook to exert themselves for the insti'uction and education of youth m this college ; and it was on the eame consideration that the founder en- dowed it with his property. 1 See also 3 Kyd on Corp. 05. 8 4 Burr. 2200' « 2 Mass. Kep. 2G9. And because charters of incorporation are of the nature of contracts, they can- not be altered or varied but by con- sent of the original parties. If a charter be granted bj' the king, it may be altered by a new charter granted by the king, and accepted by the corporators. But if the first charter be granted by Parlia- ment, the consent of Parliament must be obtained to any alteration. In King v. Miller,* Lord Kenyon says: " Where a corporation takes its rise from the king's charter, the king by granting, and the corporation by accepting another charter, may alter it, because it is done with the consent of all the parties who are com petent to consent to the alteration." ^ There are, in this case, all the essen- tial constituent parts of a contract. There is something to be contracted about, there are parties, and there are plain terms in which the agi'eement of the parties on the subject of the contract is expressed. There are mutual consid- erations and inducements. The charter recites, that the fomider, on his part, has agi"eed to establish his seminary iu New Hampshire, and to enlarge it be- yond its original design, among other things, for the benefit of that Province; and thereupon a charter is given to him and his associates, designated by him- self, promising and assuring to them, under the plighted faith of the State, the right of governing the college and administering its concerns in the manner provided in the charter. There is a complete and perfect grant to them of all the power of superintendence, visita- tion, and government. Is not this a contract? If lands or money had been granted to him and his associates, for the same purposes, such grant could not be rescinded. And is there any differ- ence, in legal contemplation, between a grant of corporate franchises and a grant of tangible property? No such differ- ence is recognized in any decided case, nor does it exist in the common appre- hension of mankind. * 6 Term Rep. 277. 6 See also Ex parte Bolton School, 2 Brown'f Ch. Rep. 662. 90 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE- It is therefore contended, that this case tails within the true meaning of this provision of the Constitution, as ex- pounded in the decisions of this court ; that the charter of 1769 is a contract, a stipulation or agreement, mutual in its considerations, express and formal in its terms, and of a most binding and sol- emn nature. That the acts in question impair this contract, has already been sufficiently shown. They repeal and ab- rogate its most essential parts. A single observation may not be im- proper on the opinion of the court of New Hampshire, which has been pub- lished. The learned judges who deliv- ered that opinion have viewed this question in a very different light from that in which the plaintiffs have endeav- ored to exhibit it. After some general remarks, they assume that this college is a public corporation ; and on this basis their judgment rests. Whether all col- leges are not regarded as private and eleemnsynaiy corporations, by all law writers and all judicial decisions ; wheth- er this college was not foimded by Dr. Wheelock ; whether the charter was not granted at his request, the better to ex- ecute a trust, which he had already cre- ated ; whether he and his associates did not become visitors, by the charter; and whether Dartmouth College be not, therefore, in the strictest sense, a pri- vate charity, are questions which the learned judges do not appear to have discussed. It is admitted in that opinion, that, if it be a private corporation, its rights stand on the same ground as those of an individual. The great question, there- fore, to be decided is. To which class of corporations do colleges thus founded belong? And the plaintiffs have en- deavored to satisfy the coui't, that, ac- cording to the well-settled principles and uniform decisions of law, they are pri- vate, eleemosynary corporations. Much has heretofore been said on the necessity of admitting such a power in the legislature as has been assumed in this case. Many cases of possible evil have been imagined, which might other- wise be withuut remedy. Abuses, it is contended, might arise in the mnjiage^ ment of such institutions, which the or- dinary courts of law would be unable to correct. But this is only anothi.'r in- stance of that habit of supposing ex- treme cases, and then of reasoning from them, which is the constant refuge of those who are obliged to defend a cause, which, upon its merits, is indefensible. It would be sufficient to say in answer, that it is not pretended that there was here any such case of necessity. But a still more satisfactory answer is, that the apprehension of danger is ground- less, and therefore the whole argument fails. Experience has aot taught us that there is danger of great evils or of gi'eat inconvenience from this soui'ce. Hith- erto, neither in our own country nor elsewhere have such cases of necessity occurred. The judicial establishments of the State are presvuned to be competent to prevent abuses and violations of trust, in cases of this kind, as well as in aU others. If they be not, they are imper- fect, and their amendment would be a most proper subject for legislative wis- dom. Under the government and pro- tection of the general laws of the land, these institutions have always been fomid safe, as well as useful. They go on, with the progress of society, accom- modating themselves easily, without sud- den change or violence, to the alterations which take place in its condition, and in the knowledge, the habits, and pur- suits of men. The English colleges were founded in Catholic ages. Their re- ligion was reformed Avith the general reformation of the nation ; and they are suited perfectly weU to the pm-pose of educating the Protestant youth of mod- ern times. Dartmouth College was es tablished under a charter granted b\ the. Provincial government; but a better constitution for a college, or one more adapted to the condition of things under the present government, in all u.aterial respects, could not now be framed. Nothing in it was found to need altera- tion at the Revolution. The wise men of that day saw in it one of the best hopes of future times, and commended it as it was, with parental care, to the THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. 23 protection and guardianship of the gov- ernment of the State. A charter of more liberal sentiments, of wiser pro- visions, drawn with more care, or in a better spirit, could not be expected at any time or from amy som-ce. The col- lege needed no change in its organisa- tion or government. That which it did need was the kindness, the patronage, the bounty of the legislatui-e; not a mock ele7ation to the character of a uni- versity, without the solid benefit of a shilling's donation to sustain the charac- ter; not the swelling and empty author- itv of establishinar institutes and other colleges. This unsubstantial pageantry would seem to have been in derision of the scanty endowment and limited means of an unobtrusive, but useful and (jrowinsj seminary. Least of all was there a necessity, or pretence of iie- cessity, to infringe its legal rights, vio- late its franchises and privileges, and pour upon it these overwhelming streams of litigation. But this argmnent from necessity woidd equally apply in aU other cases. If it be well fomided, it would prove, that, whenever any inconvenience or evil is experienced fi-ora the restrictions im- posed on the legislatm-e by the Con- stitution, these restrictions ought to be disregarded. It is enough to say, that the people have thought otherwise. They have, most wisely, chosen to take the risk of occasional inconvenience from the want of power, in order that there might be a settled limit to its exercise, and a permanent seciurity against its abuse. They have imposed prohibitions and restraints; and they have not rendered these altogether vain and nugatory by conferring the power of dispensation. If inconvenience should arise which the legislature cannot rem- edy imder the power conferred upon it, it Ls not answerable for such inconvenience. That which it cannot do withm the limits prescribed to it, it cannot do at aU. No legislature in this countiy is able, and may the tune never come when it shall be able, to apply to itself the memorable expression of a Roman pon- tiff- " Licet hoc tie Jure non possumus. volumus tamen de plenitudine poles- tatis." The case before the court is not of ordinary importance, nor of evei-y-day occurrence. It affects not this college only, but every college, and all the literary institutions of the country. They have flourished hitherto, and have become in a high degree respectable and useful to the community. They have all a common principle of existence, the inviolability of their charters. It will be a dangerous, a most dangerous ex- periment, to hold these institutions sub- ject to the rise and fall of popular parties, and the fluctuations of political opinions. If the franchise may be at any time taken away, or impaired, the property also may be taken away, or its use perverted. Benefactors will have no certainty of effecting the object of their bounty; and learned men wiU be de- terred from devoting themselves to the service of such institutions, from the pre- carious title of their offices. Collegea and halls will be deserted by all better spirits, and become a theatre for the contentions of politics. Party and fac- tion will be cherished in the places con- secrated to piety and learning. These consequences are neither I'emote nor pos- sible only. They are certain and im- mediate. "When the court in Xorth Carolina declared the law of the State, which re- pealed a grant to its university, uncon- stitutional and void, the legislatui-e had the candor and the wisdom to repeal the law. This example, so honorable to the State which exhibited it, is most fit to be followed on this occasion. And there is good reason to hope that a State, which has hitherto been so much dis- tinguished for temperate counsels, cau- tious legislation, and regard to law, will not fail to adopt a course which will accord with her highest and best inter- ests, and in no small degree elevate her reputation. It was for many and obvious reasons most anxiousl}' desired that tlie question of the power of the legislatiu-e over this charter should have been finally decided in the State court. An earnest hope 24 THE DARTMOUTH COLLEGE CASE. ^as entertained that the judges of the court might have viewed the case in a light favorable to the riglits of the trus- tees. That hope has failed. It is here that those rights are now to be main- tained, or they are prostrated for ever. "Omnia aha perfugia bononim, aub- sidia, consilia, auxilia, jura ceciderunt. Quem enim alium appeUem? quem ob- tester? quem iinplorem? Nisi hoc loco, nisi apud vos, nisi per vos, judices, salu- tem nostram, qufe spe exigua extremaque pendet, tenuerimus; nihil est praiterea quo confugere possimiis " FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. A. DISCOURSE DELIVERED AT PLYMOUTH, ON THE 22d OF DECEMBER, 1830 [The first public anniversary celebration of the landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth took place under the auspices of the " Old Colony Club," of whoso formation an ac- count may be found in the interesting little work of William S. Russell, Esq., entitled " Guide to Plymouth and Recollections of the Pilgrims." This club was formed for general pur- poses of social intercourse, in 1769 ; but its members detcrmintil, by a vote passed on Monday, the 18th of December, of that year, " to keep " Friday, the 22d, in commemora- tion of tlie landing of the fatliers. A par- ticular account of the simple festivities of tills first public celebration of the landing of tlie Pilgrims will be found at page 220 of Mr. Russell's work. The following year, the anniversary was celebrated much in the same manner as in 1769, with the addition of a short address, pronounced " with modest and decent firm- ness, by a member of the club, Edward Winslow, Jr., Esq.," being the first address ever delivered on this occasion. In 1771, it was suggested by Rev. Chan- dler Robbins, pastor of the First Church at Plymouth, in a letter addressed to the club, " whetlier it would not be agreeable, for the entertaimnent and instruction of the rising generation on these anniversaries, to have a sermon in public, some part of the day, pe- culiarly adapted to the occasion." This recommendation prevailed, and an appro- priate discourse was delivered the following year by the Rev. Dr. Robbins. In 1773 the Old Colony Club was dis- solved, in consequence of the conflicting opinions of its members on the great polit- ical questions then agitated. Notwithstaiui- ing tills event, the anniversary celebrations of the 22d of December continued without interruption till 1780, when they were sus- pended. After an interval of fourteen years, a public discourse was again delivered by the Rev. Dr. Robbins. Private celebrations took place the four following years, and from that time till the year 1819, with one or two exceptions, the day was annually conunemorated, and public addresses were delivered by distinguished clergymen and laymen of Massachusetts. In 1820 the "Pilgrim Society" was formed by the citizens of Plymouth and the descendants of the Pilgrims in other places, desirous of uniting " to commem orate the landing, and to honor the memory of the intrepid men who first set foot on Plymouth rock." The foundation of this society gave a new impulse to the anniver- sary celebrations of this great event. The Hon. Daniel Webster was requested to de- liver the public address on the 22d of De- cember of that year, and the following discourse was pronounced by him on the ever-memorable occasion. Great public ex pectation was awakened by the fame of the orator; an immense concourse assembled at Plymouth to unite in the celebration ; and it may be safely anticipated, that some por- tion of the powerful effect of the following address on the minds of those who were so fortunate as to hear it, will be perpetuated by the press to the latest posterity. From 1820 to the present day, with occa- sional interruptions, the 22d of December has been celebrated by the Pilgrim Society- A list of all those by whom anniversary discourses have been delivered since the first organization of the Old Colony Club, in 1761), may be found in Mr. Russell's work. Nor has the notice of the day been con- fined to New England. Public celebrations of the landing of the Pilgrims have been frequent in other parts of the country, par- ticularly in New York. The New England Society of that city has rarely permitted the day to pass without appropriate honois. Similar societies have been formed at Phil- adelphia, Charleston, S. C, and Cincinnati, and the day has been publicly commem- orated in several other parts of the coun- try.] Let us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be thankful that we have lived to see the bright and happy break- ing of the auspicious morn, which com- 26 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. mences the third century of the history of New England. Auspicious, indeed, — bringing a happiness beyond the com- inoQ allotment of Providence to men, — full of present joy, and gilding with bright beams the prospect of futui-ity, is the dawn that awakens us to the com- memoration of the lauding of the Pil- grims. Living at an epoch which naturally marks the progress of the history of our native land, we have come hither to cel- ebrate the great event with which that history, commenced. For ever honored be this, the place of our fathers' refuge! For ever remembered the day which saw them, weary and distressed, broken in every thing but spirit, poor in all but faith and courage, at last secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and impress- ing this shore with the first footsteps of civilized man ! It is a noble faculty of our nature ■which enables us to connect our thoughts, our .sympathies, and our happiness with what is distant in place or time; and, looking before and after, to hold com- munion at once with our ancestors and our posterity. Human and mortal al- though we are, we are nevertheless not mere insulated beings, without relation to the past or the future. Xeither the point of time, nor the spot of earth, in which we physically live, bounds our ra- tional and intellectual enjoyments. AVe live in the past by a knowledge of its history; and in the future, by hope and anticipation. By ascending to an asso- ciation with our ancestors; b}' contem- plating their example and studying their character ; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibing their spirit; by accompa- nying them in tlieir toils, by sympathiz- ing in their sufferings, and rejoicing in their successes and their triumphs; we seem to belong to their age, and to min- gle our own existence with theirs. We become their contemporaries, live the lives which they lived, endure what they endured, and partake in the rewards which they enjoyed. And in like man- ner, by running along the line of future time, by contt-niplating the probable for- tunes of those who are coming after us, by attempting something which may promote their happiness, and leave some not dishonorable memorial of ourselves for their regard, when we shall sleep with the fathers, we protract our own earthly being, and seem to crowd whatever is future, as weU as all that is past, into the narrow compass of ovu- earthly exist- ence. As it is not a vain and false, but an exalted and religious imagination, which leads us to raise our thoughts from the orb, which, amidst this uni- verse of worlds, the Creator has given us to inhabit, and to send them with something of the feeling which nature prompts, and teaches to be proper among children of the same Eternal Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of fel- low-beings with which his goodness has peopled the infinite of space; so neither is it false or vain to consider ourselves as interested and connected with our whole race, through all time; allied to our ancestors; allied to our posterity; closely compacted on all sides with oth- ers; ourselves being but links in the great chain of being, which begins with the origiu of our race, runs onward through its successive generations, bind- ing together the past, the present, and the future, and terminating at last, with the consummation of all things earthly, at the throne of God. There may be, and there often is, in- deed, a regard for ancesti-y, which nour- ishes only a weak pride; as there is also a care for posterity, which only disguises an habitual avarice, or hides the work- ings of a low and grovelling vanity. But there is also a moral and philosophical respect for our ancestors, which elevates the character and improves the lieart. Xext to the sense of religious duty and moral feeling, I hardly know what should bear with stronger obligation on a lib- eral and enlightened mind, than a con- sciousness of alliance with excellence which is departed ; and a consciousness, too, that in its acts and conduct, and even in its sentiments and thoughts, it may be actively operating on the happi- ness of those who come after it. Poetry is found to have few stronger concejv tions, by which it would affect or over- FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 27 whelm the raiiid, than those in which it presents the moving and speaking image of the departed dead to tlie senses of the living. Tliis belongs to poetry, only be- cause it is congenial to our nature. Poetry is, in this respect, but the hand- maid of true philosophy and morality; it deal., with us as human beings, naturally reverencing those whose visible connec- tion with this state of existence is sev- ered, and who may yet exercise we know not what sympathy with ourselves ; and when it carries us forward, also, and shows us the long continued result of all the good we do, in the prosperity of those wlio follow us, till it bears us from ourselves, and absorbs us in an in- tense interest for what shall happen to the generations after us, it .speaks only in the language of our nature, and af- fects us with sentiments which belong to us as human beings. Standing in this relation to our ances- tors and our posterity, we are assembled on this memorable spot, to perform the duties which that relation and the pres- ent occasion impose upon us. AVe have come to this Rock, to record here our homage for our Pilgrim Fathers; our sympathy in their suffeiings; our gi-ati- tude for their labors; our admiration of their Aartues; our veneration for their piety; and our attachment to those prin- ciples of civil and religious liberty, which they encountered the dangers of the ocean, the storms of heaven, the violence of savages, disease, exile, and famine, to enjoy and to "^^tablish. And we would leave here, also, foj- the generations which are rising up vapidly to fill our places, some proof that we have endeav- ored to transmit the great inheritance unimi)aired; that in our estimate of public principles and private virtue, in our veneration of religion and piety, in our devotion to civil and religious lib- erty, in our regard for whatever ad- vances human knowledge or impioves human happiness, we ai'e not altogether unworthy of our origin. There is a local feeling connected with this occasion, too strong to be resisted; a sort of genius of the place, which in- spires and awes us. "We feel that we are on the spot where the first scene of our history was laid: where the hearths and altars of Xew England w^ere first placed: where Christianity, and civilization, and letters made their first lodgement, in a vast extent of country, covered with a wilderness, and peopled by rovirg bar« barians. We are here, at the season of the year at which the event took place. The imagination irresistibly and rapidly draws around us the principal features and the leading characters in the origi- nal scene. We cast our eyes abroad on the ocean, and we see where the little bark, with the intei'esting group upon its deck, made its slow progress to the shore. We look around us, and behold the hills and promontories where the anxious eyes of our fathers first saw the places of habitation and of rest. W^e feel the cold which benumbed, and lister to the winds which pierced them. Be- neath us is the Rock,^ on which New England received the feet of the Pil- grims. We seem even to behold them, as they struggle Avith the elements, and, with toilsome efforts, gain the shore. We listen to the chiefs in council ; we see the unexampled exhibition of female fortitude and resignation; we hear the whisperings of youthful impatience, and we see, what a painter of our own has also represented by his pencil,- chilled and shivering childhood, houseless, but for a mother's arms, couchless, but for a mother's breast, till our own blood almost freezes. The mild dignity of Carver and of Bradford; the decisive and soldier-like air and manner of Stan- dish; the devout Brewster; the enter- prising AUerton ; ^ the general firmness and though tfulness of the whole band; their conscious joy for dangers escaped; 1 An interesting account of the Ro(k may be found in Dr. Thacher's History of the Town of Plymouth, pp. 29, 198, 199. 2 See Note A, at the end of the Discourse. 8 For notices of Carver, Bradford, Standish, Brewster, and Allerton, see Young's Chronicles of Plymouth and ^lassachusetts ; Morton's Me- morial, p. 120; Belknap's American Biography, Vol. IL; Hutchinson's History, Vol. H., App., pp. 450 et seq. ; Collections of the Jlassachu- setts Historical Society; Winthrop's Journal; and Thacher's History. 28 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. their deep solicitude about dangers to come ; their trust in Heaven ; their high religious faith, full of confidence and an- ticipation; aU of these seem to belong to this place, and to be present upon this occasion, to fill us with reverence and admiration. The settlement of New England by the colony which landed here ^ on the twenty-second'^ of December, sixteen hundred and twenty, although not the first European establishment in what now constitutes the United States, was yet so peculiar in its causes and charac- ter, and has been followed and must still be followed by such consequences, as to give it a high claim to lasting com- memoration. On these causes and con- sequences, more than on its immediately attendant circumstances, its importance, as an historical event, depends. Great actions and striking occurrences, having excited a temporary admiration, often pass away and are forgotten, because they leave no lasting results, affecting the prosperity and hapjiiness of commu- nities. Such is frequently the fortune of the most brilliant military achieve- ments. Of the ten thousand battles which have been fought, of all the fields fertilized with carnage, of the banners which have been bathed in blood, of the warriors who have hoped that they had risen from the field of con- quest to a glory as bright and as durable as the stars, how few that continue long tc interest mankind! The victory of yesterday is reversed by the defeat of to- day; the star of military glory, rising like a meteor, like a meteor has fallen ; disgrace and disaster hang on the heels of conquest and renown ; victor and van- quished presently pass away to oblivion, and the world goes on in its course, with the lo.ss only of so many lives and so much treasure. But if thiij be frequently, or generally, 1 For the original name of what is now Ply- mouth, see Lives of .Vincrican Governors, p 38, note, a work jireparcd with great care by J. B. Moore, Kstj. 2 The twenty -first is now acknowledged to be the true niiniversary. See the Report of the Pilgrim Soi^iety on the subject. the fortune of military achievements, it is not always so. There are enterprises, military as well as civil, which some- times check the current of events, give a new turn to human affairs, and trans- mit their consequences through ages. We see their importance in their results, and call them great, because great thinga follow. There have been battles which have fixed the fate of nations. These come down to us in history with a ?olid and pennanent interest, not created by a display of glittering armor, the rush of adverse battalions, the sinking and rising of pennons, the flight, the pursuit, and the victory; but by their eifect in advancing or retarding human knowl- edge, in overthrowing or establishing despotism, in extending or destroying himian happiness. When the traveller pauses on the plain of Marathon, wliat are the emotions which most strongly agitate his breast? What is that glori- ous recollection, which tlirills through his frame, and suffuses his eyes? Not, I imagine, that Grecian skill and Gre- cian valor were here most signally dis- played; but that Greece herself was saved. It is because to this spot, and to the event which has rendered it im- mortal, he refers all the succeeding glo- ries of the republic. It is because, if that day had gone otherwise, Greece had perished. It is because he perceives that her philosophers and orators, her poets and painters, her sculptors and archi- tects, her governments and free institu- tions, point backward to ]\Larathon, and that their future existence seems to have been suspended on the contingency, whether the Persian or the Grecian ban- ner sliould wave victorious in the beams of that day's setting sun. And, as his imagination kindles at the retrospect, he is transported back to tlie interesting moment; he counts the fearful odds of the contending hosts; his interest for the result overwhelms him ; he trembles, as if it were still uncertain, and seems to doubt whetlier he may consider Soc- rates and Plato, Demosthenes, Sopho- cles, and Phidias, as secure, yet, to him- self and to the woild "If we conquer," said the Athenian FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 29 comiiKUuler on the approach of that de- cisive day, "if we conquer, we shall make Athens the greatest city of Greece."^ A prophecy how well ful- filled! "If God prosper us," might have been the more appropriate lan- guage of our fathers, when they landed upon this Kock, " if God prosper us, we shall here begin a work which shall last for ages ; we shall plant here a new soci- ety, in the princijiles of the fullest lib- erty and the purest religion; we shall subdue this wilderness wliich is before us; we shall fill this region of the great continent, which stretches almost from pole to pole, with civilization and Chris- tianity; the temples of the true God shall rise, where now asoends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice; fields and gar- dens, the flowers of summer, and the waving and golden harvest of autumn, shall spread over a thousand hills, and stretch along a tho;isand valleys, never yet, since tlie creation, reclaimed to the use of civilized man. We shall whiten this coast with the canvas of a prosper- ous commerce; we shall stud the long and winding shore with a hundred cit- ies. That which we sow in weakness shall be raised in streng-th. From our sincere, but houseless worship, there shall spring splendid temples to record God's goodness ; from the simplicity of our social union, there shall arise wise and politic constitutions of government, full of the liberty which we ourselves bring and breathe; from our zeal for learning, institutions shall spring which shall scatter the light of knowledge throughout the land, and, in time, pay- ing back where they have borrowed, i^hall contribute their part to the great aggregate of human knowledge ; and our descendants, through all generations, shall look back to this spot, and to this hoar, with unabated affection and re- gard." - A brief remembrance of the causes which led to the settlement of this place; eome account of the peculiarities and characteristic qualities of that settle- 1 Herodot. VI. § 109. ment, as distinguished from other in- stances of colonization ; a short notice of the progress of New England in the great interests of society, during the century which is now elapsed ; with a few obser- vations on the principles upon which so- ciety and government are established in this countiy; comprise all that can !)« attempted, and much more than can be satisfactorily performed, on the present occasion. Of the motives which influenced the first settlers to a voluntary exile, in- duced them to relinquish their native covmtiy, and to seek an asylum in tliis then unexplored wilderness, the first and principal, no doubt, were connected with religion. They sought to enjoy a higher degree of religious freedom, and what they esteemed a purer form of religious worship, than was allowed to their choice, or presented to their imitation, in the Old World. The love of religious lib- erty is a stronger sentiment, when fully excited, than an attachment to civil or political freedom. That freedom which the conscience demands, and which men feel bound by their hope of salvation to contend for, can hardly fail to be at- tained. Conscience, in the cause of re- ligion and the worship of the Deity, prepares the mind to act and to suffer beyond almost all other causes. It some- times gives an impulse so irresistible, that no fetters of power or of opinion can withstand it. Ilistoiy instructs U3 that this love of religious liberty, a com- pound sentiment in the breast of man, made up of the clearest sense of right and the highest conviction of duty, i.s able to look the sternest despotism in the face, and, with means apparently most inadequate, to shake principal iti 58 and powers. There is a boldness, a spirit of daring, in religious reformers, not to be measured by the general rules which control men's purposes and ac- tions. If the hand of power be laid \ipon it, this only seems to augment its force and its elasticity, and to cause its action to be more formidable and vio- lent. Human invention has devised nothing, human ^ower has compassed 30 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAXU. nothing, that can forcibly restrain it, when it breaks forth. Xothing can stop it, but to give way to it; nothing can check it, but indulgence. It loses its power only when it has gained its ob- ject. The principle of toleration, to which the world has come so slowly, is at once the most just and the most wise of all principles. Even when religious feeling takes a character of extravagance and enthusiasm, and seems to threaten the order of society and shake the col- iimns of the social edifice, its principal danger is in its restraint. If it be al- lowed indulgence and expansion, like the elemental fires, it only agitates, and perhaps purifies, the atmosphere; while its efforts to throw off restraint would burst the world asunder. It is certain, that, although many of them were republicans in principle, we have no evidence that our New Ensilaud ancestors would have emigrated, as they did, from their own native country, would have become wanderers in Europe, and finally would have undertaken the establishment of a colony here, merely from their dislike of the political sys- tems of Europe. They fled not so much from the ci^^l government, as from the hierarchy, and the laws which enforced conformity to the church establishment. I\Ir. Robinson had left England as early as 1608, on account of the persecutions for non-conformity, and had retired to Holland. He left England from no dis- appointed ambition in affairs of state, from no regrets at the want of prefer- ment in the church, nor from any motive of distinction or of gain. Uniformity in matters of religion was pressed with such extreme rigor, that a voluntary exile seemed the most eligible mode of escap- ing from tlio penalties of non-compliance. The accession of Elizabeth had, it is true, quiMiched the fires of Smithfield, and put an end to the easy acquisition of the crown of martyi-dora. Her long reign had estal)lished the Reformation, but toleration was a virtue beyond her con- ception, and beyond the age. She left no example of it to her successor; and he was not of a character which rendered it probable that a sentiment either so wise or so liberal would originate with him. At the [jreseut period it seems in credible that the learned, aocomplished, unassuming, and inoffensive Robinson should neither be tolerated in his peace- able mode of worship in his own coun- try, nor suffered qmetly to depart from it. Yet such was the fact. He left his country by stealth, that he might else- where enjoy those rights which ought to belong to men in all countries. The departure of the Pilgrims for Holland is deeply interesting, from its circum- stances, and also as it marks the charac- ter of the times, independently of it3 connection with names now incorporated with the history of empire. Tlie em- barkation was intended to be made in such a manner that it might escape the notice of the officers of govenmieut. Great pains had been taken to secure boats, which should come undiscovered to the- shore, and receive the fugitives; and frequent disappointments had been exj^erienced in this respect. At length the appointed time came, bringing with it unusual severity of cold and rain. An unfrequented and barren heath, on the shores of Lincolnshire, was the selected spot, where the feet of the Pilgi-ims were to tread, for the last time, the land of their fathers. The vessel which was to receive them did not come until the next day, and in the mean time the little band was collected, and men and women and children and bag- gage were crowded together, in melan- choly and distressed confusion. The sea was rough, and the women and children were already sick, from their passage down the river to the place of embarka- tion on the sea. At length the wished- for boat silently and fearfully approaches the shore, and men and women and chil- dren, shaking with fear and with cold, as many as tlie small vessel could bear, venture off on a dangerous sea. Imme- diately the advance of horses is heard from behind, armed men appear, and those not yet embarked are seized and taken into custody. In the hurry of the moment, the first parties had been sent on board without any attempt to keep members of tlie same fami'y together, FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 31 and on account of tlie appearance of the horsemen, the boat never returned for the residue. Those who had got away, and those who had not, were in equal distress. A storm, of great violence and long duration, arose at sea, which not only protracted the voyage, rendered dis- tressing by the want of all those accom- modations which the interruption of the embarkation had occasioned, but also forced the vessel out of her course, and menaced immediate shipwreck ; while those on shore, when they were dismissed from the custody of the officers of jus- tice, having no longer homes or houses to retire to, and their friends and pro- tectors being already gone, became ob- jects of necessary charity, as well as of deep commiseration. As this scene passes before us, we can hardly forbear asking whether this be a band of malefactors and felons flying from justice. "What are their crimes, that they hide themselves in darkness ? To what punishment are they exposed, that, to avoid it, men, and women, and children, thus encounter the surf of the Xorth Sea and the terrors of a night storm ? What induces this armed pur- suit, and this arrest of fugitives, of all ages and both sexes? Truth does not allow us to answer these inquiries in a manner that does credit to the wisdom or the justice of the times. This was not the flight of guilt, but of virtue. It was an humble and peaceable religion, flying from causeless oppression. It was conscience, attempting to escape from the arbitrary rule of the Stuarts. It was Robinson and Brewster, leading off their little band from their native soil, at first to find shelter on the shore of the neigh- boring continent, but ultimately to come hither ; and having surmounted all diffi- culties and braved a thousand dangers, to find here a place of refuge and of rest. Thanks -be to God, that tliis spot was honored as the asylum of religious lib- erty! May its standard, reared here, re- main for ever ! May it rise up as high as heaven, till its banner shaU fan the air of both continents, and wave as a glori- ous ensign of peace and security to the cations ! The peculiar character, condition, and circumstances of tlie colonies which in- troduced civilization and an English racft into Xew^ England, afford a most inter- esting and extensive topic of discu.ssion. On these, much of our subsequent char- acter and fortune has depended. Tiieir influence has essentially affected our whole history, through the two centuries which have elapsed; and as they have become intimately connected with gov- ernment, laws, and property, as well as with our opinions on the subjects of re- ligion and civil liberty, that influence i3 likely to continue to be felt through the centuries which sliall succeed. Emigra- tion from one region to another, and the emission of colonies to people countries more or less distant from the residence of the parent stock, are common inci- dents in the history of mankind; but it has not often, perhaps never, happened, that the establishment of colonies should be attempted under circumstances, how- ever beset wdth present difficulties and dangers, yet so favorable to ultimate success, and so conducive to magnificent resiUts, as those which attended the first settlements on this part of the American continent. In other instances, emigra- tion has proceeded from a less exalted purpose, in periods of less general intel- ligence, or more wnthout plan and by accident ; or under circumstances, physi- cal and moral, less favorable to the ex- pectation of laying a foundation for great public prosperity and future empire. A great resemblance exists, obviously, between all the English colonies estab- lished within the present limits of the United States ; but the occasion attracts our attention more immediately to those which took possession of New England, and the peculiarities of these furnish a strong contrast with most other instaucea of colonization. Among the ancient nations, the Greeks, no doubt, sent forth from their territories the greatest number of colonies. So nu- merous, indeed, were they, and so great the extent of space over which they were spread, that tlie parent country fondly and naturally persuaded herself, that Sy means of them she had laid a sure foun- 82 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. datiun for the universal civilization of the world. These establishments, from obvious causes, were most numerous in places most contiguous; yet they were found on the coasts of France, on the shores of the Euxine Sea, in Mrica, and even, as is alleged, on the borders of India These emigrations appear to have been sometimes voluntary' and sometimes compulsorj'; arising from the spontaneous enterprise of individuals, or the order and regulation of govern- ment. It was a common opinion with ancient writers, that they were under- taken in religious obedience to the com- mands of oracles, and it is probable that impressions of this sort might have had more or less influence ; but it is probable, also, that on these occasions the oracles did not speak a language dissonant from the views and purposes of the state. Political science among the Greeks seems never to have extended to the comprehension of a system, which should be adequate to the government of a gi'eat nation upon principles of liberty. They were accustomed only to the contempla- tion of smaU republics, and were led to consider an augmented population as in- compatible with free institutions. The desire of a remedy for this supposed evil, and the wish to establish marts for trade, led the governments often to undertake the establishment of colonies as an affair of state expediency. Colonization and commerce, indeed, would naturally be- come objects of interest to an ingenious and enterprising people, inhabiting a territory closely circumscribed in its limits, and in no small part mountain- ous and sterile ; while the islands of the adjacent seas, and the promontories and coasts of the neigliboring continents, by their mere proximity, strongly solicited the excited spirit of emigi-ation. Such was this proximity, in many instances, tliat the new settlements appeared rather to be the mere extension of population ever contiguous territory, than the es- tablisliment of distant colonies. In pro- portion as they were near to the parent state, they would be under its authority, and partake of its fortunes. The colony at Marseilles might perceive lightly, or not at all, the sway of Phocis ; while the islands in the ^.-Egean Sea could hardly attain to independence of their Athenian origin. Many of these establislmients took place at an early age ; and if there were defects in the governments of the parent states, the colonists did not pos- sess philosophy or experience suiBcient to correct such evils in their own insti- tutions, even if they had not been, by other causes, deprived of the power. An immediate necessity, connected with the support of life, was the main and direct inducement to these undertakings, and there could hardly exist more tlian tlie hope of a successful imitation of insti- tutions with which they were already acquainted, and of holding an equality with their neighbors in the course of improvement. The laws and customs, both political and mmiicipal, as well as the religious worship of the parent city, were transferred to the colony; and the parent city herself, with aU such of her colonies as were not too far remote for frequent intercourse and common senti- ments, would appear like a family of cities, more or less dependent, and more or less connected. "We know how imper- fect this system was, as a system of gen- eral politics, and what scope it gave to those mutual dissensions and conflicts which proved so fatal to Greece. But it is more pertinent to our present pm-pose to observe, that nothing existed in the character of Grecian emigrations, or in the spirit and intelligence of the emigrants, likely to give a new and im- portant direction to human affairs, or a new impulse to the human miiul. Their motives were not high enougli, their views were not sufficiently large and prospective. They went not forth, like our ancestors, to erect systems of more perfect civil liberty, or to enjoy a higher decree of relierious freedom. Abc'e all, there was nothing in the religion and learning of the age, that could either inspire high purposes, or give the ability to execute them. "Whatever restraints on civil liberty, or whatever abuses in religious worship, existed at the time of our fathers' emigi-ation, yet even then all was light in the moral and mentai FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 3b world, in comparison with its condition in most periods of the ancient states. The settlement of a new continent, in an age of i^rogressive knowledge and im- provement, could not but do more than merely enlarge the natural boundaries of the habitable world. It could not but do much more even than extend com- ni'jrce and increase wealth among the human race. We see how this event has acted, how it must have acted, and won- der only why it did not act sooner, in the production of moral effects, on the Btate of human knowledge, the general tone of human sentiments, and the pros- pects of human happiness. It gave to civilized man not only a new continent to be inhabited and cultivated, and new seas to be explored; but it gave him also a new range for his thoughts, new objects for cm'iosity, and new excite- ments to knowledge and improvement. Roman colonization resembled, far less than that of the Greeks, the original settlements of this country. Power and dominion were the objects of Rome, even in her colonial establishments. Her whole exterior aspect was for centuries hostile and terrific. She grasped at do- minion, from India to Britain, and her measures of colonization partook of the character of her general system. Her policy was military, because her objects were power, ascendency, and subjuga- tion. Detachments of emigrants from Rome incorporated themselves with, and governed, the original inhabitants of conquered countries. She sent citizens where she had first sent soldiers ; her law followed her sword. Her colonies were a sort of military establishment; so many advanced posts in the career of her dominion. A governor from Rome ruled the new colony with absolute sway, and often with unbounded rapacity. In Sicily, in Gaul, in Spain, and in Asia, the power of Rome prevailed, not nomi- nally only, but really and effectually. Those who immediately exercised it were Roman ; tlie tone and tendency of its administration, Roman. Rome herself continued to be the heart and centre of the great system which she had estab- lished. Extortion and rapacity, find- ing a wide and often rich field of action in the provinces, looked nevertheless to the banks of the Tiber, as the scene in which their ill-gotten treasures should be displayed ; or, if a spirit of more honest acquisition prevailed, the object, never- theless, was ultimate enjojTnent in Rome itself. If our own history and our own times did not sufficiently expose the in- herent and incurable evils of provincial government, we might see them por- trayed, to our amazement, in the deso lated and ruined provinces of the Roman empire. We might hear them, in a voice that terrifies us, in those strains of complaint and accusation, which the advocates of the provinces poured forth in the Roman Forum: — " Quas ros luxuries in flagitiis, crudelitas in sup- pliciis, avaritia in rapinis, superbia in contumeliis, efficere potuisset, eas omnes sese pertulisse." As was to be expected, the Roman Provinces partook of the fortunes, as well as of the sentiments and general character, of the seat of empire. They lived together with her, they flourished with her, and feU with her. The branches were lopped away even before the vast and venerable trunk itself fell prostrate to the earth. Nothing had proceeded from her which could support itself, and bear up the name of its origin, when her ovm. sustaining arm should be enfeebled or withdrawn. It was not given to Rome to see, either at her zenith or in her decline, a child of her own, distant, indeed, and independent of her control, yet speaking her language and inherit- ing her blood, springing forward to a competition with her own power, and a comparison with her own great renown. She saw not a vast region of the earth peopled from her stock, fuU oi states and political communities, improving upon the models of her institutions, and breathing in fuller measure the spirit which she had breathed in the best periods of her existence; enjopng and extending her arts and her literature; rising rapidly from political childhood to manly strength and independence; her offspring, yet now her equal ; vuicon- nected with the causes which might 84 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. affect the duration of her ovm power and greatness; of common origin, but not linked to a common fate; giving ample pledge, that her name should not be forgotten, that her language should not cease to be used among men ; that ■whatsoever she had done for human knowledge and human happiness should be treasured up and preserved ; that the record of her existence and her achieve- ments should not be obscured, although, in the inscrutable pm-poses of Provi- dence, it might be her destiny to fall from opulence and splendor; although the time might come, ■when darkness should settle on all her hills ; ■when for- eign or domestic violence should overturn her altars and her temples ; when igno- rance and despotism should fill the places ■where Laws, and Arts, and Liberty had flourished; when the feet of barbarism should trample on the tombs of her con- suls, and the walls of her senate-house and forum echo only to the voice of savage triumph. She saw not this glori- ous vision, to inspire and fortify her against the possible decay or do^wnfaU of her power. Happy are they who in our day may behold it, if they shall con- template it with the sentiments which it ouglit to inspire ! The Xew England Colonies differ quite as widely from the Asiatic establishments of the modern European nations, as from the models of the ancient states. The sole object of those establishments was originally trade ; although we have seen, in one of them, the anomaly of a mere trading company attaining a political character, disbursing revenues, and main- taining armies and forti'esses, until it has extended its control over seventy mil- lions of people. Differing fi-om these, and still more from the New England and North American Colonies, are the European settlements in the AVest Lidia Islands. It is not strange, that, when men's minds were tm-ned to the settlement of America, different objects should be proposed by those who emigrated to the different regions of so vast a country. Climate, soil, and condition were not all equally favorable to all pursuits. In tlio NVest Indies, the purpose of those who ■went thither was to engage in that species of agricultiu-e, suited to the soil and climate, which seems to beai more resemblance to commerce than to the hard and plain tillage of Xew England. The great staples of these coimtries, being partly an agricultural and partly a manufactured product, and not being of the necessaries of life, become tlie object of calculation, with respect tc a profitable investment of capital, like any other enterprise of trade or manufacture. The more especially, as, requiring, by necessity or habit, slave labor for their production, the capital necessary to car- ry on the work of this production is very considerable. The West Indies are re- sorted to, therefore, rather for the in- vestment of capital than for the purpose of sustaining life by personal labor. Such as possess a considerable amount of capi- tal, or such as choose to adventure in commercial speculations without capital, can alone be fitted to be emigrants to tlie islands. The agriculture of these regions, as befoi'e obsen-ed, is a sort of commerce ; and it is a species of employ- ment in which labor seems to form an inconsiderable ingredient in the produc- tive causes, since the portion of white labor is exceedingly small, and slave labor is rather more like profit on stock or capital than Uibor properly so called. The individual who vmdertakes an es- tablishment of this kind takes into the account the cost of the necessary num- ber of slaves, in the same manner as he calculates the cost of the land. The un- certainty, too, of this species of employ- ment, affords another ground of resem- blance to commerce. Although gainful on the whole, and in a series of years, it is often very disastrous for a single year, and, as the capital is not readily invested in other pursuits, bad crops or bad mar- kets not only affect the profits, but the capital itself. Hence the sy.dden depres- sions which take place in the value of such estates. But the great and leading observation, relative to these establisliments, remains to be made. It is, that tlie owners of tlie soil and of the capital seldom con sider themselves at honif. in the colony. FIKST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 35 A very gi'eat portion of the soil itself is usually owned in the mother country; a Btill greater is mortgaged for capital ob- tained there; and, in general, those who are to derive an interest from the prod- ucts look to the parent countiy as the place for enjojTnent of their -wealth. The popiilation is therefore constantly fluc- tuating. Nobody comes but to return. A constant succession of owners, agents, aud factors takes place, "^^^^atsoever the Boil, forced by the unmitigated toil of slavery, can jneld, is sent home to defray rents, and interest, and agencies, or to give the means of living in a better so- ciety. In such a state, it is evident that no spirit of permanent improvement is likely to spring up. Profits will not be invested with a distant view of benefit- ing posterity. Roads and canals will hardly be built ; schools will not be founded; colleges will not be endowed. There will be few fixtures in society; no principles of utility or of elegance, planted now, with the hope of being de- veloped and expanded hereafter. Profit, immediate profit, must be the principal active spring in the social system. There may be many particular exceptions to these general remarks, but the outline of the whole is such as is here drawn. Another most important consequence of such a state of things is, that no idea of independence of the parent country is likely to arise; unless, indeed, it should spring up in a form that would threaten universal desolation. The inhabitants have no strong attachment to the place which they inhabit. The hope of a great portion of them is to leave it ; and their great desire, to leave it soon. How- ever useful they may be to the parent state, how much soever they may add to the conveniences and luxuries of life, these colonies are not favored spots for the expansion of the human mind, for the progress of permanent improvement, or for sowing the seeds of future inde- pendent empire. Different, indeed, most widely differ- ent, from all these instances of emigra- tion and plantation, were the condition, the pui"poses, and the prospects of our fathers, when they established their in- fant colony upon this spot. They came hither to a land from which thoy were never to return. Hither they had brought, and here they were to fix, their hopes, their attachments, and their objects in life. Sonae natural tears they shed, as they left the pleasant abodes of their fathers, and some emotions they sup- pressed, when the white cliffs of their native comitry, now seen for the last time, grew dim to their sight. They were acting, however, upon a resolution not to be daunted. AVith whatever sti- fled regi-ets, with whatever occasional hesitation, with whatever appalling ap- Ijrehensious, which might sometimes arise with force to shake the firmest pm-pose, they had yet committed them- selves to Heaven and the elements ; and a thousand leagues of water soon inter- posed to separate them for ever from the region which gave them birth. A new existence awaited them here ; and when they saw these shores, rough, cold, bar- barous, and barren, as then they were, they beheld their comitry. That mixed and strong feeling, which we call love of country, and which is, in general, never extinguished in the heart of man, grasped and embraced its proper object here. "UTiatever constitutes country, ex- cept the earth and the sun, all the moral causes of affection and attachment which operate upon the heart, they had brought with them to their new abode. Here were now their families and friends, their homes, and their property. Before they reached the shore, they had estab- lished the elements of a social system,* and at a much earlier j^eriod had settled their forms of religious worship. At the moment of their landing, therefore, they possessed institutions of government, and institutions of religion: and friends and families, and social and religious insti- tutions, framed by consent, founded on choice and preference, how nearly do 1 For the compact to which reference is made in tlie text, signed on board the Jlay- flower, see Hutchinson's History, Yol. H., Ap- pendix, No. I. For an eloquent description of the manner in which the first Christian Sabbath was passed on board the Mayflower, at Ply- mouth, see Barnes's Discourse at Worcester 36 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLANT). these fill up our whole idea of country! The morning that beamed on the first night of their repose saw the Pilgrims akeady at home in their country-. There were political institutions, and ciAol lib- erty, and religious worship. Poetry has fancied nothing, in the wanderings of heroes, so distinct and characteristic. Here was man, indeed, unprotected, and unprovided for, on the shore of a rude and fearful wilderness ; but it was poli- tic, intelligent, and educated man. Ev- eiT thing was civilized but the physical world. Institutions, containing in sub- stance all that ages had done for human government, were organized in a forest. Cultivated mind was to act on uncul- tivated natui-e; and, more than all, a government and a country were to com- mence, with the very fii-st foundations laid under the divine light of the Chris- tian religion. Happy auspices of a hap- py futurity ! "Who would wish that his country's existence had otherwise begoin? Who would desire the power of going back to the ages of fable ? ^Vho would wish for an origin obscured in the dark- ness of antiquity ? Who would wish for other emblazoning of his coimtry's her- aldry, or other ornaments of her geneal- ogy, than to be able to say, that her first existence was with intelligence, her first breath the inspiration of liberty, her first principle the truth of divine re- ligion ? Local attachments and sympathies would ere long spring up in the breasts of our ancestors, endearing to them the place of their refuge. Whatever natural objects are associated with interesting scenes and high efforts obtain a hold on human feeling, and demand from the heart a sort of recognition and regard. This llock soon became hallowed in the esteem of the Pilgrims, ^ and these hills 1 The names of the passengers in the May- flower, with some account of them, may be found in the New England Genealogical Regis- ter, Vol. I. p. 47, and a narration of some of the incidents of the voyage, Vol. II. p. 18G. For an account of Mrs. Wliite, the motlier of the first chilli born in New England, see IJaylies's History of Plymouth, Vol. II. p. 18, and for a notice of her son Peregrine, see Moore's Li%'es of American Governors, Vol. I. p. 31. note grateful to their sight. Neither they noi their children were again to tUl the soil of England, nor again to traverse the seas which surroimd her.- But here was a new sea, now open to their enterprise, and a new soU, which had not failed to respond gratefully to their laborioirs in- dustry, and which was already assuming a robe of verdure. Hardly had they pro- vided shelter for the living, ere they were summoned to erect sepulchres for the dead. The ground had become- sacred, by enclosing the remauis of some of their companions and connections. A parent, a child, a husband, or a wife, had gone the way of all flesh, and mingled with the dust of New England. We natu- rally look with strong emotions to the spot, though it be a wilderness, where the ashes of those we have loved repose. Where the heart has laid down what it loved most, there it is desirous of lapng itself down. No sculptm-ed marble, no enduring monument, no honorable in- scription, no ever-burning taper that would drive away the darkness of the tomb, can soften our sense of the reality of death, and hallow to our feelings the groimd which is to cover us, like the consciousness that we sliall sleep, dust to dust, with the objects of our affec- tions. In a .short time other causes sprung up to bind the Pilgrims with new cords to their chosen land. Children were born, and the hopes of future genera- tions arose, in the spot of their new habitation. The second generation found this the land of their nativity, and saw that they were bound to its fortunes. They beheld their fathers' graves around them, atid while they read the memorials of their toils and labors, they rejoiced in the inheritance wliioh tliey found bequeathed to them. Under the influence of these causes, it was to be expected that an interest and a feeling should arise hero, entirely different from the interest and feeling of mere Englishmen ; and all the subse- 2 See the admirable letter written on board the Arbella, in Hutchinson's History, Vol. I., Appendix, No. I. FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 37 quent history of the Colonies proves this to have actually and gradually taken place. With a general acknowledgment of the supremacy of tlie British crown, there was, from the first, a repugnance to an entire submission to the control of British legislation. Tlie Colonies stood upon their charters, which, as they con- tended, exempted them from the ordi- nary power of the British Parliament, and authorized them to conduct their own concerns by their own counsels. They utterly resisted the notion that they were to be ruled by the mere au- thority of the government at home, and would not endure even that their own charter governments should be estab- lished on the other side of the Atlantic. It was not a controlling or protecting board in England, but a government of their own, and existing immediately within their limits, which could satisfy their wishes. It was easy to foresee, what we know also to have happened, that the first gi-eat cause of collision and jealousy would be, under the notion of political economy then and stiU preva- lent in Europe, an attempt on the part of the mother country to monopolize the trade of the Colonies. Whoever has looked deeply into the causes which pro- duced our Revolution has found, if I mistake not, the original principle far back in this claim, on the part of Eng- land, to monopolize our trade, and a continued effort on the part of the Colo- nies to resist or evade that monopoly; if, indeed, it be not still more just and philosophical to go farther back, and to consider it decided, that an independent gDvernment must arise here, the moment it was ascertained that an English colony, such as landed in this place, could sustain itself against the dangers which surrounded it, and, with other similar establishments, overspread the land with an English population. Ac- cidental causes retarded at times, and at times accelerated, the progress of the controversy. The Colonies wanted strength, and time gave it to them. They required measures of strong and palpable injustice, on the part of the mother country, to justify resistance; the early part of the late king's reign furnished them. They needed spirits of high order, of great daring, of long foresight, and of commanding power, to seize the favoring occasion to strike a blow, which should sever, for all time, the tie of colonial dependence; and these sph'its were found, in all the ex- tent which that or any crisis could de- mand, in Otis, Adams, Hancock, and the other immediate authors of our independence. Still, it is true that, for a century, causes had been in operation tending to prepare things for this great result. In the year 1660 the English Act of Navi- gation was passed; the first and grand object of which seems to have been, to secure to England the whole trade with her plantations.^ It was provided by that act, that none but English ships should transport American produce over the ocean, and that the principal articles of that produce should be allowed to be sold only in the markets of the mother country. Three years afterwards an- other law was passed, which enacted, that such commodities as the Colonies might wish to purchase should be bought only in the markets of the mother country. Severe rules were pre- scribed to enforce the provisions of these laws, and heavy penalties imposed on aU who should violate them. In the subsequent years of the same reign, other statutes were enacted to re-enforce these statutes, and other rules pre- scribed to seciire a compliance with these rules. In this manner was the trade to and from the Colonies re- stricted, almost to the exclusive ad- vantage of the parent country. But laws, which rendered the interest of a whole people subordinate to that of an- other people, were not likely to execute themselves; nor was it easy to find many on the spot, who could be de- 1 In reference to the British policy respect- infif Colonial manufactures, see Representations of the Board of Trade to the House of Lords, 23d Jan., 1734; also, 8th June, 1749. For an able vindication of the British Colonial policy, see " Political Essays concerning the Present State of the British Empire." London. ]772. 88 riRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. pended upon for carrying them into execution. In fact, these laws were more or less evaded or resisted, in all the Colonies. To enforce them was the constant endeavor of the government at home; to prevent or elude their opera- tion, the perpetual object here. " The laws of navigation," says a living Brit- ish writer, "were nowhere so openly disobeyed and contemned as in New England." " The people of ^Nlassachu- setts Bay," he adds, " were from the first disposed to act as if independent of the mother country, and having a governor and magistrates of their own choice, it was difficult to enforce any regulation which came from the Eng- lisli Parliament, adverse to their inter- ests." To provide more effectually for the execution of these laws, we know that courts of admiralty were afterwards established by the crown, with power to try revenue causes, as questions of ad- miralty, upon the construction given by the crown lawyers to an act of Parlia- ment; a great departure from the ordi- nary principles of English jurispru- dence, but which has been maintained, nevertheless, by the force of habit and precedent, and is adopted in our own existing systems of government. "There lie," says another English wi'iter, whose connection with the Board of Trade has enabled him to ascertain many facts connected with Colonial his- tory, " There lie among the documents in the board of trade and state-paper office, the most satisfactory proofs, from the epoch of the English Revolution in 1688, throughout every reign, and dur- ing every administration, of the settled purpose of the Colonies to acquire direct independence and positive sovereignty." Perhaps this may be stated somewhat too strongly; but it cannot be denied, that, from the very nature of the estab- lishments here, and from the general character of the measures respecting their concerns early adopted and stead- ily pursued by the English government, a division of the empire was the natural and necessary result to which every tliinsj tended.^ 1 Many interesting papers, illustrating the I have dwelt on this topic, because it seems to me, that the peculiar original character of the Xew England Colonies, and certain causes coeval with their ex- istence, have had a strong and decided influence on all their subsequent history, and especially on the great event of the Revolution. Whoever would write our history, and would understand and ex- plain early transactions, should compre- hend the nature and force of the feeling which I have endeavored to describe. As a son, leaving the house of his father for his own, finds, by the order of nature, and the very law of his being, nearer and dearer objects around which his affections circle, while his attach- ment to the parental roof becomes moderated, by degrees, to a composed regard and an affectionate remem- brance; so our ancestors, leaving their native land, not without some violence to the feelings of nature and affection, yet, in time, found here a new circle of engagements, interests, and affections; a feeling, which more and more en- croached upon the old, till an imdivided sentiment, that this was their country, occupied the heart; and patriotism, shutting out from its embraces the par- ent realm, became local to America. Some retrospect of the century which has now elapsed is among the duties of the occasion. It must, however, neces- sarily be imperfect, to be compressed within the limits of a single discourse. I shall content myself, therefore, with taking notice of a few of the leading and most important occurrences which have distinguished the period. "\Mien the first century closed, the prog- ress of the country appeared to have been considerable ; notwithstanding that, in comij^iened to be great. Each would i-)erceive his own importance, and his own interest, and would feel that natural elevation of character which the consciousness of property insi^ires. A common senti- ment would unite all, and numbers would not only add strength, but excite enthusiasm. It is true, that France possesses a vast military force, under the direction of an hereditary executive FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLiVND. 45 gOTeriiment; and military power, it is possible, may overthrow any govern- ment. It is in vain, however, in this period of the world, to look for security against military power to the arm of the great landliolders. That notion is de- rived from a state of things long since past; a state in which a feudal baron, with his retainers, might stand against the sovereign and his retainers, him- Belf but the greatest baron. But at present, what could the richest land- holder do, against one regiment of dis- ciplined troops? Other secm-ities, there- fore, against the prevalence of military power must be provided. Happily for us, we are not so situated as that any purpose of national defence requires, ordinarily and constantly, such a mili- tary force as might seriously endanger our liberties. Li respect, however, to the recent law of succession in France, to which I have alluded, I would, presumptuously per- haps, hazard a conjecture, that, if the government do not change the law, the law in half a century will change the gov- ernment; and that this change will be, not in favor of the power of the crown, as some European writers have supposed, but against it. Those writers only rea- son upon what they think correct general principles, in relation to this subject. They acknowledge a want of experience. Here we have had that experience ; and we know that a multitude of small pro- prietors, acting with intelligence, and that enthusiasm which a common cause inspu-es, constitute not only a formida- ble, but an invincible power, i The true principle of a free and popu- lar government would seem to be, so to construct it as to give to all, or at least to a very great majority, an interest in its preservation; to found it, as other things are founded, on men's interest. The stability of government demands that those who desire its continuance should be more powerful than those who desire its dissolution. This power, of course, is not always to be measured by mere numbers. Education, wealth, tal- ^ See note B, at the end of the Discourse. ents, are all parts and elements of the general aggi-egate of power; but nura bers, nevertheless, constitute ordinarily the most important consideration, un- less, indeed, there be a military force in the hands of the few, by which they can control tlie many. In this country we have actually existing systems of gov- ernment, in the maintenance of Mhich; it should seem, a great majority, bott in numbers and in other means of powei and influence, must see their interest. But this state of things is not brough* about solely by written political consti- tutions, or the biere manner of organiz- ing the government; but also by the laws which regulate the descent and transmission of property. The freest government, if it could exist, would not be long acceptable, if the tendency of the laws were to create a rapid accu- mulation of property in few hands, and to render the great mass of the popula- tion dependent and penniless. In such a case, the popular power would be likely to break in upon the rights of property, or else the influence of property to limit and control the exercise of popular power. Universal suffrage, for example, could not long exist in a community where there was gTeat inequality of property. The holders of estates would be obliged, in such case, in some way to restrain the* right of suffrage, or else such right of suffrage would, before long, divide the property. In the na- ture of things, those who have not prop- erty, and see then- neighbors possess much more than they think them to need, cannot be favorable to laws made for the protection ol property. "\Mien this class becomes numerous, it grows clamorous. It looks on property as its prey and phmder, and is naturally ready, at all times, for violence and revolution. It would seem, then, to be the part of political wisdom to found government on property ; and to establish sucli dis- tribution of property, by the laws which regulate its transmission and alienation, as to interest the great majority of soci- ety in the support of the government. This is, I imagine, the true theory and the actual practice of our republican 46 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. institutions. "With property divided as we have it, no other government than that of a republic could be maintained, even were we foolish enough to desire it. There is reason, therefore, to ex- pect a long continuance of our system. Party and passion, doubtless, may pre- vail at times, and much temporary' mis- chief be done. Even modes and forms may be changed, and perhaps for the worse. But a great revolution in re- gard to property must take place, before our governments can be moved from their republican basis, unless they be violently struck off by militar}'^ power. The people possess the property, more emphatically than it could ever be said of the people of any other country, and they can have no interest to overturn a government which protects that property by equal laws. Let it not be supposed, that this state of things possesses too strong tendencies towards the production of a dead and uninteresting level in society. Such tendencies are sufficiently counteracted by the infinite diversities in the charac- ters and fortunes of individuals. Tal- ent, activity, industry, and enterprise tend at all times to produce inequality and distinction; and there is room still for the accumulation of wealth, with its great advantages, to all reasonable and useful extent. It has been often urged against the state of society in America, that it furnishes no class of men of for- tune and leisure. This may be partly true, but it is not entirely so, and the evil, if it be one, would affect rather the progress of taste and literature, than the general prosperity of tiie people. But the promotion of taste and litei-a- turc cannot be primary objects of politi- cal institutions; and if they could, it might be doubted whether, in the long course of things, as much is not gained by a wide diffusion of general knowl- edge, as is lost by diminishing the num- ber of those who are enabled by fortune and leisj ,3 to devote themselves exclu- sivelj' to ocientific and literary pursuits. However this may be, it is to be con- sidered that it is the spirit of our system to be equal and general, and if there be particular disadvantages incident to this, they are far more than counterbalanced by the benefits which weigh against them. The important concerns of soci- ety are generally conducted, in all coun- tries, by the men of business and practi- cal ability ; and even in matters of taste and literature, the advantages of mere leisure are liable to be overrated. If there exist adequate means of education and a love of letters be excited, that love will find its way to the object of its desire, through the crowd and pressure of the most busy society. Connected with this division of prop- erty, and the consequent participation of the great mass of people in its pos- session and enjoyments, is the sj'stem of representation, which is admirably ac- commodated to our condition, better understood among us, and more famil- iarly and extensively practised, in the higher and in the lower departments of government, than it has been by any other people. Great facility has been given to this in New England by the early division of the country into town- ships or small districts, in which all concerns of local police are regulated, and in which representatives to the leg- islature are elected. Nothing can ex- ceed the utility of these little bodies. They are so many councils or parlia- ments, in which common interests are discussed, and useful knowledge ac- quired and communicated. The division of governments into de- partments, and the division, again, of the legislative department into two chambers, are essential provisions in our system. This last, although not new in itself, yet seems to be new in its appli- cation to governments wholly popular. The Grecian republics, it is plain, knew nothing of it; and in Rome, the check and balance of legislative power, such as it was, lay between the people and the senate. Indeed, few^ things are more difficult than to ascertain accu- rately the true nature and construction of the Roman commonwealth. The relative power of the senate and the peo- ple, of the consuls and the tribunes, appears not to have been at all times FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND 47 the same, nor at any time accurately defined or strictly observed. Cicero, indeed, describes to us an admirable arrangement of political power, and a balance of the constitution, in tliat beautiful passage, in which he compares the democracies of Greece with the Roman commonwealth. "O morem preclarum, disciplinamque, quara a majoribus accepimus, si quidem tonere- musl sed nescio quo pacto jam do mani- bus elabitur. NuUam euim illi nostri Bapientissirai et sanctissimi viri vim concionis esse voluerunt, quaj scisseret plebs, aut quae populus juberet; sum- mota concione, distributis partibus, tributim et centuriatim descriptisordini- bus, classibus, ajtatibus, auditis auctori- bus, re multos dies promulgata et cognita, juberi vetarique voluerunt. Graecorura autem totaj respublic?e sedentis concio- nis temeritate adininistrantur." ^ But at what time this wise system existed in this perfection at Rome, no proofs remain to show. Her constitu- tion, originally framed for a monarchy, never seemed to be adjusted in its sev- eral parts after the expulsion of the kings. Liberty there was, but it was a disputatious, an uncertain, an ill-secured liberty. The patrician and plebeian orders, instead of being matched and joined, each in its just place and propor- tion, to sustain the fabric of the state, ■U'ere rather like hostile powers, in per- petual conflict. With us, an attempt has been made, and so far not without success, to divide representation into chambers, and, by difference of age, character, qualification, or mode of elec- tion, to establish salutaiy checks, in governments altogether elective. Having detained you so long with these observations, I must yet advert to another most interesting topic, — the Free Schools. In this particular, New England may be allowed to claim, I think, a merit of a pecidiar character. She early adopted, and has constantly maintained the principle, that it is the undoubted right and the bounden duty 1 Oratio pro Flacco, § 7. of government to provide for tae in- struction of all youth. That which is elsewhere left to chance or to charity, we secure by law.'^ For the purpose of public instruction, we hold every man subject to taxation in proportion to his property, and we look not to the ques- tion, whether he himself have, or have not, children to be benefited by the edu- cation for which he pays. AVe regard it as a wise and liberal system of police, by which property, and life, and the peace of society are secured. We seek to prevent in some measure the exten- sion of the penal code, by inspiring a salutary and conservative principle of virtue and of knowledge in an early age. We strive to excite a feeling of respect- ability, and a sense of character, by enlarging the capacity and increasing the sphere of intellectual enjojTuent. By general instruction, we seek, as far as possible, to purify the whole moral atmosphere; to keep good sentiments uppermost, and to turn the strong cur- rent of feeling and opinion, as well as the censures of the law and the denun- ciations of religion, against immorality and crime. We hope for a security beyond the law, and above the law, in the prevalence of an enlightened and well-principled moral sentiment. We hope to continue and prolong the time, when, in the villages and farm-houses of New England, there may be undis- turbed sleep within unbarred doors. And knowing that our government rests directly on the public will, in order that we may preserve it we endeavor to give a safe and proper direction to that pub- lic will. We do not, indeed, expect all men to be philosophers or statesmen; 2 The first free school established by law in the Plymouth Colony was in 1670-72. One of the early teachers in Boston taught school more than sevtnty years. See Cotton blather's " Fu- neral Sermon upon Mr. Ezekiel Cheevcr, the ancient and honorable Master of the Free School in Boston." For the impression made upon the mind of an intelligent foreigner by the general attention to popular education, as characteristic of the AnuTican polity, see Slackay's Weilern World, Vol. III. p. 22.3 at seq. Also, Edinburgh Kfr- view, No. 186. 48 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLANT). but we confidently trust, and our ex- pectation of the duration of our system of government rests on that trust, that, by the diffusion of general knowledge and good and virtuous sentiments, the political fabric may be secure, as well against open violence and overthrow, as against the slow, but sure, undermining of licentiousness. We know that, at the present time, an attempt is making in the English Parliament to provide by law for the education of the poor, and that a gen- tleman of distinguished character (Mr. Brougham) has taken the lead in pre- senting a plan to government for carry- ing that purpose into effect. And yet, although the representatives of the three kingdoms listened to him with astonish- ment as well as delight, we hear no principles with which we ourselves have not been familiar from youth; we see nothing in the plan but an approach towards that system which has been es- tablished in New England for more than a century and a half. It is said that in England not more than one child in fifteen possesses the means of being taught to read and write; in Wales, one in twenty ; in France, until lately, when some improvement was made, not more than one in thirty-foe . Now, it is hardly too strong to say, that in New England every ch ild possesses such means. It would be difficult to find an instance to the con- trary, unless where it should be owing to the negligence of the parent; and, in truth, the means are actually used and enjoyed by nearly eveiy one. A youth of fifteen, of either sex, who cannot both read and write, is very seldom to be found. Who can make this compari- son, or contemplate this spectacle, with- out delight and a feeling of just prideV Does any history show property more beneficently applied? Did any govern- ment ever subject the property of those who have estates to a burden, for a piu-- pose more favorable to the poor, or more useful to the whole community ? A conviction of the importance of pub- lic instruction was one of the earliest eenfunents of our ancestors. No law- giver of ancient or modern times has ex- pressed more just opinions, or adopted wiser measures, than the early records of the Colony of Plymouth show to have prevailed here. Assembled on this very spot, a hundred and fifty-three years ago, the legislature of this Colony declared, " Forasmuch as the maintenance of good literature doth much tend to the advance- ment of the weal and flourishing state of societies and republics, this Court doth therefore order, that in whatever town- ship in this government, consisting of fifty families or upwards, any meet man shall be obtained to teach a grammar school, such township shall allow at least twelve pounds, to be raised by rate on all the inhabitants." Having provided that all youth should be instructed in the elements of learning by the institution of free schools, our ancestors had yet another duty to per- form. Men were to be educated for the professions and the public. For this purpose they founded the University, and with incredible zeal and persever- ance they cherished and supported it, through all trials and discouragements.^ On the subject of the University, it is not possible for a son of New England to think without pleasure, or to speak without emotion. Nothing confers more honor on the State where it is estab- lished, or more utility on the countiT at large. A respectable university is an establishment which must be the work of time. If pecuniary means were not wanting, no new institution could pos- sess character and respectability at once. We owe deep obligation to our ances- tors, who began, almost on the moment of their arrival, the work of building up this institution. Altliough established in a different government, the Colony of Plymouth manifested warm friendship for Har- vard College. At an early period, its government took measures to promote a 1 By a law of the Colony of Massachusette Bay, passed as early as 1647, it was ordered, that, "when any town shall increase to tha number of one hundred families or household- ers, they shall set up a grammar school, tho master thereof bfiiig able to instruct youth so far as they may be fitted for the University." FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 49 general subscription throughout all the towns in this Colony, in aid of its small funds. Other colleges were subsequently founded and endowed, in other places, as the ability of the people allowed ; and we may flatter ourselves, that the means of education at present enjoyed in Xew England are not only adequate to the diffusion of the elements of knowledge among all classes, but sufficient also for respectable attainments in literature and the sciences. Lastly, our ancestors established their system of government on morality and religious sentiment. Moral habits, they believed, cannot safely be trusted on any other foundation than religious princi- ple, nor any government be secure which is not supported by moral habits. Liv- ing under the heavenly light of revela- tion, they hoped to find all the social dispositions, all the duties which men owe to each other and to society, en- forced and performed. Whatever makes men good Christians, makes them good citizens. Ovir fathers came here to en- joy their religion free and unmolested; and, at the end of two centuries, there is nothing upon which we can pronounce more confidently, nothing of which we can express a more deep and earnest con- viction, than of the inestimable import- ance of that religion to man, both in re- gard to this life and that wliich is to come. If the blessings of oui- political and social condition have not been too highly estimated, we cannot well overrate the responsibility and duty which they im- pose upon us. We hold these institu- tions of government, religion, and learn- ing, to be transmitted, as well as enjoyed. We are in the line of conveyance, through which whatever has been obtained by the spirit and efforts of our ancestors is to be communicated to our children. We are bound to maintain public lib- erty, anl, by the example of our own systems, to convince the world that or- der and law, religion and morality, the rights of conscience, the rights of per- sons, and the rights of property, may all be preserved and secured, in the most perfect manner, by a government en- (, tirely and purely elective. If we fail in this, our disaster will be signal, and will furnish an argument, stronger than has yet been found, in support of those opin- ions which maintain that government can rest safely on nothing but power and coercion. As far as experience may show errors in our establishments, we are bound to correct them; and if any practices exist contrary to the principles of justice and humanity within the reach of our laws or our influence, we are in- excusable if we do not exert ourselves to restrain and abolish them. I deem it my duty on this occasion to suggest, that the land is not yet wholly free from the contamination of a traffic, at whicli every feeling of humanity must for ever revolt, — I mean the African slave-trade.^ Neither public sentiment, nor the law, has hitherto been able en- tirely to put an end to this odious and abominable trade. At the moment when God in his mercy has blessed the Chris- tian world with a universal peace, there is reason to fear, that, to the disgrace of the Christian name and character, new efforts are making for the extension of this trade by subjects and citizens of Christian states, in whose hearts there dwell no sentiments of humanity or of justice, and over whom neither the fear of God nor the fear of man exercises a control. In the sight of our law, the African slave-trader is a pirate and a felon; and in the sight of Heaven, an offender far beyond the ordinary depth of human guilt. There is no brighter page of our history, than that which records the measures which have been adopted by the government at an early day, and at different times since, for the suppression of this traffic ; and I would call on all the true sons of New Englai d to co-operate with the laws of man, and the justice of Heaven. If there be, with- in the extent of our knowledge or influ- ence, any participation in this traffic, let us pledge ourselves here, upon the rock of Plymouth, to extirpate aftd destroy it. 1 In reference to the opposition of the Colo- nies to the slave-trade, see a representation of the Board of Trade to the Hoiw«» of Lords, 23d January, 1733-4. 50 flUST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. It is not fit that the land of the Pilgrims should bear the shame longer. I hear the sound of the hammer, I see the smoke of the furnaces where manacles and fettere are still forged for human limbs. I see the visages of those who by stealth and at midnight labor in this work of hell, foul and dark, as may be- come the artificers of such instruments of misery and torture. Let that spot be purified, or let it cease to be of Xew England. Let it be purified, or let it be set aside from the Christian world; let it be put out of the circle of human sym- pathies and human regards, and let civil- ized man henceforth have no communion with it. I would invoke those who fill the seats of justice, and all who minister at her altar, that they execute the wholesome and necessary severity of the law. I in- voke the ministers of our religion, that they proclaim its denunciation of these crimes, and add its solemn sanctions to the authority of human laws. Lf the pulpit be silent whenever or wherever there may be a sinner bloody with this guilt within the hearing of its voice, the pulpit is false to its trust. I call on the fair merchant, who has reaped his harvest upon the seas, that he assist in scourging from those seas the worst pirates that ever infested them. That ocean, which seems to wave with a gen- tle magnificence to waft the burden of an honest commerce, and to roll along its treasures with a conscious pride, — that ocean, which hardy industry re- gards, even when the winds have ruffled its surface, as a field of grateful toil. — what is it to the victim of this oppres- eion , when he is brought to its shores, and looks forth upon it, for the first tini", loaded with chains, and bleeding witli stripes? What is it to him but a wide-spread prospect of suffering, an- guish, and death? Nor do the skies smile longer, nor is the air longer fra- grant to him. The sim is cast down from heaven. An inhuman and accur.'sed tratlic hai cut him off in his manhood, or in his youth, from every enjoyment belonging to his being, and every bless- ing wiiich his Creator intended for him. The Christian commvmities send forth their emissaries of religion and letters, who stop, here and there, along the coast of the vast continent of Africa, and with painful and tedious efforts make some almost imperceptible progress in the communication of knowledge, and in the general improvement of (he natives who are immediately about them. Not thus slow and imperceptible is the trans mission of the vices and bad passion.s which the subjects of Christian states carry to the land. The slave-trade hav- ing touched the coast, its influence and its evils spread, like a pestilence, over the whole continent, making savage wars more savage and more frequent, and adding new and fierce passions to the contests of barbarians. I pursue this topic no further, except again to say, that all Christendom, being now blessed with peace, is bound by eveiy thing which belongs to its char- acter, and to the character of the pres- ent age, to put a stop to this inhuman and disgraceful traffic. We are bound, not only to maintain the general principles of public liberty, but to support also those existing forma of government which have so well se- cured its enjojnuent, and so highly pro- moted the public pro.sperity. It is now more than thirty years that these States have been united under the Federal Con- stitution, and whatever fortime may await them hereafter, it is impossible that this period of their history should not be regarded as distinguished by signal prosperity and success. They must be sanguine indeed, who can hope for benefit from change. "\Miatever division of the public judgment may have existed in relation to particidar measures of the government, all must agree, one should think, in the opinion, that in its general course it has been eminently productive of public happi- ness. Its most ardent friends could not well have hoped from it more than it has accomplished; and those who dis- believed or doubted ought to feel less concern about predictions which the event has not verified, than pleasure in the good which has been obtained. FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 51 Whoever shall hereafter WTite this part of oiir history, although he may see oc- casional errors or defects, will be able to record no great failure iu the ends and objects of government. Still less will he be able to record any series of lawless and despotic acts, or any success- ful usurpation. His page will contain no exlaibition of provinces depopulated, of ci\nl authority habitually tranipled down by military power, or of a com- munity crushed by the burden of taxa- tion. He will speak, rather, of public liberty protected, and public happiness advanced; of increased revenue, and population augmented beyond all exam- ple; of the gi-o\rth of commerce, manu- factures, and the arts; and of that happy condition, in which the restraint and co- ercion of government are almost in\'isible and imperceptible, and its influence felt only in the benefits which it confers. We can entertain no better wish for our country, than that this government may be preserved; nor have a clearer duty than to maintain and support it in the full exercise of all its just constitutional powers. The cause of science and literature also imposes upon us an important and delicate tnist. The wealth and popu- lation of the countiy are now so far advanced, as to authorize the exepctation of a correct literature and a well formed taste, as well as respectable progress in the abstruse sciences. The coimtry has risen from a state of colonial subjection ; it has established an independent gov- ernment, and is now in the undisturbed enjoyment of peace and political security. The elements of knowledge are univer- sally dift'used, and the reading portion of the community is large. Let us hope that the present may be an auspicious era of literature. If, almost on the day of their landing, our ancestors founded schools and endowed colleges, what obli- gations do not rest upon us, living under circumstances so much more favorable both for providing and for using the means of education? Literature be- comes free institutions. It is the grace- ful ornament of civil liberty, and a happy restraint on the asperities which political controversies sometimes occa- sion. Just taste is not only an embel- lishment of society, but it rises almost to the rank of the virtues, and diffuses positive good throughout the whole ex- tent of its influence. There is a con- nection between right feeling and right principles, and truth in taste is allied with truth in morality. With nothing in our past history to discourage us, and with something in our present condition and prospects to animate us, let us hope, that, as it is our fortune to live iu an age when we may behold a wonderful advancement of the country in all its other great interests, we may see also equal progress and success attend the cause of letters. Finally, let us not forget the religious character of oiir origin. Our fathers were brought hither by their high vener- ation for the Christian religion. They journeyed by its light, and labored in its hope. They sought to incorporate its principles with the elements of their society, and to diffuse its influence through aU their institutions, civil, po- litical, or literary. Let us cherish these sentiments, and extend this influence still more widely; in the full conviction, / that that is the happiest society which ( partakes in the highest degree of the mild and peaceful spirit of Christianity. The hours of this day are rapidly flying, and this occasion will soon be passed. Neither we nor our childi-en can expect to behold its return. They are in the distant regions of futurity, they exist only in the all-creating power of God, who shall stand here a hundred years hence, to trace, through us, their descent from the Pilgrims, and to sur- vey, as we have now surveyed, the prog- ress of theu- country, during the lapse of a centmy. We would anticipate their concurrence with us in our sentiments of deep regard for our common ancestors. We would anticipate and partake the pleasure with which they will then re- count the steps of Xew England's ad- vancement. On the morning of that day, although it will not distm'b us in our repose, the voice of acclamatiou and gratitude, commencing on the Rock 52 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. of Plymouth, shall be transmitted through millions of the sons of the Pilgrims, till it lose itself in the mur- murs of the Paciiic seas. We would leave for the consideration of those who shall then occupy our places, some proof that we hold the blessings transmitted from our fathers in just estimation; some proof of our attachment to the cause of good govern- ment, and of civil and religious liberty; some proof of a sincere and ardent de- sire to promote every thing which may enlarge the understandings and improve the hearts of men. And when, from the long distance of a himdred years, they shall look back upon us, they shall know, at least, that we possessed affec- tions, which, running backward and warming with gratitude for what our ancestors have done for our happiness, run forward also to our posterity, and meet them with cordial salutation, ere yet tliey have arrived on the shore of being. Advance, then, ye future generations We would liail you, as you rise in your long succession, to fill the places which we now lill, and to taste the blessings of existence where we are passing, and soon shall have passed, our own human dura- tion. "SVe bid you welcome to this pleasant land of the fathers. AVe bid you welcome to the healthful skies and the verdant fields of New England. We greet your accession to the great in- heritance which we have enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of good government and religious liberty. We welcome you to the ti-easures of science and the delights of learning. We wel- come you to the transcendent sweets of domestic life, to the happiness of kin- dred, and parents, and children. We welcome you to the immeasurable bless- ings of rational existence, the immoilaJ hope of Christianity, and the light c'- everlastiug truth! ■' NOTES. Note A. — Page 27. The allusion in the Discourse is to the lar^e historical painting of the Landing of the Pilgrims at Plymouth, executed by Ilcury Sargent, Esq., of Boston, and, with gnat liberality, presented by him to the J'iliirim Society. It appeared in their hall (of which it forms the chief ornament) for the lirst time at the celebration of 1824. It represents the principal personages of the company at the moment of landing, with the Indian Samoset, who approaches them witli a friendly welcome. A very competent judL-e, himseif a distinguished artist, the late" venerable Colonel Trumbull, has pru- nouiieed that this painting has great inerit^ An interesting aceount of it will be touiul in Dr. Thaeh'er's History of I'lymoutli, pp. 240 and 257. ^ ^ . An historical painting, by Robert N. AA eir, Esq., of tiie largest size, representing the embarkation of the Pilgrims from Delft- llaveii, in Holland, and executed by order of Congress, tills one of the jianels of the Rotunda of tlie Cajiitol at Washington. The moment ehosen by tlie artist for the action of the picture is tliat in whieli the venerable pastor Robinson, with tears, and benedic- tions, and prayers to Heaven, dismisses the beloved members of his little Hock to the perils and the hopes of their great enter prise. The characters of the personages introduced are indicated with discrimina tion and power, and the accessories of the work marked with much taste and skill. It is a painting of distinguished historical in terest and of great artistic merit. The " Landing of the Pilgrims " has also been made the subject of a very interesting painting by Mr. Plagg, intended to repre- sent tiic deep religious feeling which so strikinglv characterized the first fcttlers of New Kniiland. Witii this object in view, the central figure is that of Elder Brewster. It is a ])icture of cabinet size, and is in pos- session of a gentleman of New Haven, de- scended from Elder Brewster, and of that name. Note B. — Pack 45. As the opinion of contemporaneous think- ers on this inii)ortant subject cannot fail to interest the general reans ; but if he has a greater number, it restricts the rights of the parent more and more, and makes it more and more diflicult for bini to distribute his property according to his own judgment ; the restrictions embarrassing him even in his lifetime. "The conseipiences of such laws are, from their nature, very slowly developed. \\'hen .Mr. Webster spoke "in 182()', the French code had been in operation sixteen years, and similar principlej had prevai'ed for nearly a genera- tion. But still its wide re.sults were not even suspected. Those who had treated the subject at all supposed that the teiulency was to break up the great estaies in France, and make the larger number of the holders of small estates more accessible to the influence of the govern- ment, then a limited numarchy, and so render it stronger and more desimtic. "Mr. Webster held a different opinion. He said, 'In respect, however, to the recent law of succession in Fraiu-e, to which I have alluded, / ivoidcl, presumpliioufli/ perhaps, liaznrd a con- jecture, (hat, if the (jorvrnment do not chantje the law, the law in half a century wll chant/t the fjovernment ; and that this chumje will o*, not tn favor (f the power of the crown, as soma European writers have supposed, but against it. Those writers only reason upon what they think correct general principles, in relation to this subject. They acknowledge a want of experience. Here we have had that experi- ence; and we know that a multitude of siiuill projirietors, acting with intelligence, and that enthusiasm which a common cause inspires, constitute not only a formidable, but an in- vincible power.' " In less than six years after Mr. Webstsr uttered this remarkable prediction, the king of France himself, at the opening of the Legislative Chambers, thus strangely echoed it: — 'Legis- lation ought to provide, by successive improve- ments, for all the wants of society. The pro- gressive partitioning of landed estates, essen- tially contrary to the spirit of a monarchical government, would enfeeble the guaranties which the charter has given to my throne and to my subjects. Measures will be proposed to you, gentlemen, to establish the consistency which ought to e.xist between the political law and the civil law, and to preserve the patri- mony of families, without restricting the liberty of disposing of one's property. The presen-a- tion of families is connected with, and affords a guarantv to, political stability, whi( h is the first want ot' states, and which is especially that of France, after so many vicissitudes.' "Still, the results'to which such subdivision and comminution of property tended were not foreseen even in France. The Kevolution of I8'i0 came, and revealed a part of them; for that revolution was made by the influence of men possessing very moderate estates, who be- lieved that the guaranties of a government like that of the elder branch of the Bourbons were not sufikient for their safety. But when the revolution was made, and the younger branch of the Bourbons reigned instead of the elder, the laws for the descent of property continued to be the same, and the subdivision went on as if it were an admitted benefit to society "In consequence of this, in 1844 it was found that there were in France at least live millions and a half of families, or about twenty-seven millions of souls, who were proprietary families, and that of these about four millions of families had each less than nine English acres to the family on the average. Of course, a vast ma- joritvof these twentv-seven millions of persons, though they might he interested in some small portion of the soil, were really poor, and multi- tudes of them were dependent. " Now, therefore, the results began to appeal in a practical form. One third of all the rental of France was discovered to be absolutely mort- gaged, and another third was swallowed up by 54 FIRST SETTLEilENT OF NEW ENGLAND. other encumbrances. leaving but one third free for the use and benefit of its owners. In otlier words, a great proportion of the people of France were embarrassed and poor, and a great propor- tion of the remainder were fast becoming so. "Such a state of things produced, of course, a wide-spread social uneasiness. Part of this unea.w- erful current in favor of these last-men- tioned opinions. It is opposed, however, whenever and wherever it shows itself, by certain of the great potentates of Eu- rope; and it is opposed on grounds as applicable in one ciWlized nation as ia another, and Mhich would justify such opposition in relation to the United States, as well as in relation to any other state or nation, if time and circumstan ces should render such opposition expe dient. What part it becomes this countiy to take on a question of this sort, so far a« it is called upon to take any part, can- not be doubtful. Our side of this ques- tion is settled for us, even without our own volition. Our history, our situa- tion, our character, necessarily decide our position and our course, before we have even time to ask whether we have an option. Our place is on the side of free institutions. From the earliest set- tlement of these States, their inhabi- tants were accustomed, in a greater or less degree, to the enjoyment of the powers of self-government ; and for the last half-century they have sustained systems of government entirely repre- sentative, yielding to themselves the greatest possible prosperity, and not leaving them without distinction and respect among the nations of the earth. This system we are not likiUy to aban- don; and while we shall no farther rec- ommend its adoption to other nations, in whole or in part, than it may recom- mend itself by its visible influence on our own growth and prosperity, we are, nevertheless, interested to resist the es- tablishment of doctrines which deny the legality of its foundations. We stand as an equal among nations, claiming the full benefit of the established interna- tional law; and it is our duty to oppose, from the earlie->y a thousand impulses, on one side, and llie most arbitrary pretensions, sustained by unprecedented power, on the other. This asserted right of forcible inter- vention in the affairs of other nations is in open violation of the public law of the world. Who has authorized these learned doctors of Troppau to establish new articles in this code? Whence are their diplomas? Is the whole world ex- pected to acquiesce in principles which entirely subvert the independence of nations? On the basis of this indepen- dence has been reared the beautifid fabric of international law. On the principle of this independence, Europe has seen a family of nations flourishing within its limits, the small among the large, protected not always by power, but by a principle above power, by a sense of propriety and justice. On this principle, the great commonwealth of civilized states has been hitherto upheld. There have been occasional departures or violations, and always disastrous, as in the case of Poland; but, in general, the harmony of the system has been wonderfully preserved. In the produc- tion and preservation of this sense of justice, this predominating principle, the Christian religion has acted a main part. Christianity and civilization have labored together ; it seems, indeed, to be a law of our human condition, that they can live and flourish only together. From their blended influence has arisen that delightful spectacle of the prevalence of reason and principle over power and in- terest, so well described by one who waa an honor to the age ; — 66 THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. •And sovereign Law, the state's collected will, O'er thrones and j;l(>bes elate, Sits empress, — crowning good, repressing ill : Sniit by lier sacred frown. The tiend. Discniinn, like a vapor, einks, And e'en the all-dazzling crown Hides his faint rays, and at her bidding shrinks." Jiut this vision is past. While the teach- ers of Laybach give the rule, there will he no law but the law of the strongest. It may now be required of me to show what interest we have in resisting this new system. What is it to us, it may be asked, upon what principles, or what pretences, the European governments assert a right of interfering in the affairs of their neighbors? The thun- der, it may be said, rolls at a distance. The wide Atlantic is between us and danger; and, however others may suf- fer, ^^'e shall remain safe. I think it is a sulRcient answer to this to say, that we are one of the nations of the earth; that we have an interest, therefore, in the preservation of that system of national law and national in- tercourse which has heretofore subsisted, so beneficially for all. Our system of government, it should also be remem- bered, is, throughout, founded on prin- ciples utterly hostile to the new code; and if we remain undisturbed by its operation, we shall owe our security either to our situation or our spirit. The enterprising character of the age, our own active, commercial spirit, the great increase which has taken place in the intercourse among civilized and commercial states, have necessarily con- nected us with other nations, and given us a high concern in the preservation of those salutary principles upon which that intercourse is founded. We have as clear an interest in international law, as individuals have in the laws of society. But apart from the soundness of the policy, on the grovmd of direct interest, we have, Sir, a duty connected with this subject, which I trust we are will- ing to perform. What do xce not owe to the cause of civil and religious lib- erty? to the principle of lawful resist- auce? to the principle that society has a right to pai-take in its own government? As the leading republic of the world, living and breathing in these principles, and advanced, by their operation, with unequalled rapidity in our career, shall we give our consent to bring them into disrepute and disgrace? It is neither ostentation nor boasting to say, that there lies before this country, in imme- diate prospect, a great extent and height of power. We are borne along towards this without effort, and not always even with a full knowledge of the rapidity of our own motion. Circumstances which never combined before have co-operated in our favor, and a mighty current is set- ting us forward which we could not resist even if we would, and which, while we would stop to make an observation; and take tlie sun, has set us, at the end of the operation, far in advance of the place where we commenced it. Does it not become us, then, is it not a duty imposed on us, to give our weight to tlae side of liberty and justice, to let mankind know that we are not tn-ed of our own institutions, and to pio- test against the asserted power of alter- ing at pleasure the law of the civilized world? But whatever we do in this respect, it becomes us to do upon clear and con- sistent principles. There is an impor- tant topic in the message to which I have yet hardly alluded. I mean the rumored combiiuition of the European Conti- nental sovereigns against the newly es- tablished free states of South America. Whatever position this government may take on that subject, I trust it will be one which can be defended on known and acknowledged grounds of right. The near approach or the remote dis- tance of danger may aft'ect policy, but cannot change principle. The saino reason that would authorize us to pro- test against unwarrantable combina- tions to interfere between Spain and her former colonies, would authorize u.s equally to protest if the same combina- tion were directed against the smallest state in Europe, although our duty to ourselves, our policy, and wisdom, might indicate very different courses as fit to THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. 67 ue pursued by us in the two cases. We Bhall not, I trust, act upon the notion of dividing the world with tlie Holy Alli- ance, and complain of nothing done by them in their hemisphere if they will not interfere with ours. At least this would not be such a course of policy as I could recommend or support. We have not offended, and I hope we do not Litend tr> offend, in regard to South America, against any principle of na- tional independence or of public law. We have done nothing, we shall do nothing, that we need to hush up or to compromise by forbearing to express our sympathy for the cause of the Greeks, or our opinion of the course which other governments have adopted in regard to them. It may, in the next place, be asked, perhaps. Supposing all this to be true, uhat can we do? Are we to go to war? Are we to interfere in the Greek cause, or any other European cause? Are we to endanger our pacific relations? No, certainly not. What, then, the ques- tion recurs, remains for us? If we will not endanger our own peace, if we will neither furnish armies nor navies to the cause which we think the just one, what is there within our power? Sir, this reasoning mistakes the age. The time has been, indeed, when fleets, and armies, and subsidies, were the principal reliances even in the best cause. But, happily for mankind, a great change has taken place in this re- spect. Moral causes come into consid- eration, in proportion as the progress of knowledge is advanced; and the public opinion of the civilized world is rapidly gaining an ascendency over mere brutal force. It is already able to oppose the most formidable obstruction to the prog- ress of injustice and oppression; and as it grows more intelligent and more in- tense, it will be more and more formi- dable. It may be silenced by military power, but it cannot be conquered. It is elastic, irrepressible, and invulnerable to the weapons of ordinary warfare. It is that impassible, inextinguishable enemy of mere violence and arbitrary rule, which, like Milton's augeLs, " Vital in everv part, .... Cannot, but by annihilating, die." Until this be propitiated or satisfied, it is vain for power to talk either of triumphs or of repose. No matter what fields are desolated, what fortresses sur- rendered, what armies subdued, or what provinces overrun. In the history of the year that has passed by us, and in the instance of unhappy Spain, we have seen the vanity of all triumphs in a cause which violates the general sense of justice of the civilized world. It is nothing that the troops of France have passed from the Pyrenees to Cadiz; it is nothing that an unhappy and prostrate nation has fallen before them; it is nothing that arrests, and confiscation, and execution, sweep away the little remnant of national resistance. There is an enemy that still exists to check the glory of these triumphs. It follows the conqueror back to the very scene of his ovations; it calls upon him to take no- tice that Europe, though silent, is yet indignant; it shows him that the sceptre of his victory is a barren sceptre; that it shall confer neither joy nor honor, but shall moulder to dry ashes in his gi'asp. In the midst of his exultation, it pierces his ear with the cry of injured justice; it denounces against him the indigna- tion of an enlightened and civilized age ; it turns to bitterness the cup of liis re- joicing, and wounds him with the sting which belongs to the consciousness of having outraged the opinion of man- kind. In my opinion, Sir, the Spanish na- tion is now nearer, not only in point of time, but in point of circumstance, to the acquisition of a regulated govern- ment, than at the moment of the French invasion. Nations must, no doubt, un- dergo these trials in their progress to the establishment of free institutions. The very trials benefit them, and render them more capable both of obtaining and of enjoying the object which they seek. I shall not detain the committee. Sir, by laying before it any statistical, geo- graphical, or commercial account of Greece. I have no knowledge on these 68 THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. subjects which is nol common to all. It is universally admitted, that, within the last thirty or forty yoars, tlie condi- tion of Greece has been greatly im- proved. Her marine Ls at present re- spectable, containing the best sailors in the Mediterranean, better even, in that sea. than our own. as more accustomed to the long quarantines and other regu- lations which prevail in its ports. The number of her seamen has been esti- mated as high as 50,000, but I suppose that estimate must be much too large. She has, probably, 150,000 tons of ship- ping. It is not easy to ascertain the amount of the Greek population. The Turkish government does not trouble itself with any of the calculations of political economy, and there has never been such a thing as an accurate census, probably, in any part of the Turkish empire. In the absence of all official information, private opinions widely dif- fer. By the tables which have been communicated, it would seem that there are 2,400,000 Greeks in Greece proper and the islands; an amount, as I am inclined to think, somewhat overrated. There are, probably, in the whole of European Turkey, 5,000,000 Greeks, and 2,000,000 more in the Asiatic do- minions of that power. The moral and intellectual progress of this numerous population, under the horrible oppression which cinishes it, has been such as may well excite regard. Slaves, under barbarous masters, the Greeks have still aspired after the bless- ings of knowledge and civilization. Be- fore tlie breaking out of the present revolution, they had established schools, and colleges, and libraries, and the press. Wherever, as in Scio, owing to particular circumstances, the weiglit of oppression was mitigated, the natural vivacity of the Greeks, and tlieir apti- tufle for the arts, were evinced. Though certainly not on an equality with the civilized and Christian states of Europe, — and how is it possible, under such opi)re.ssion as they endured, that tliey should be? — they yet furnished a strik- ing contrast with their Tartar masters. It lias been well said, that it is not easy to form a ju.st conception of the natura of the desjx)tism exercised over them. Conquest and subjugation, as known among European states, are inadequate modes of expression by which to denote the dominion of the Turks. A conquest in the civilized world is generiily no more than an acquisition of a new do- minion to the conquering coiuitry. It does not imply a never-ending bondage imposed ufxinthe conquered, a perpetual mark, — an opprobrious distinction be- tween them and their masters; a bitter and unending persecution of their relig- ion; an habitual violation of their rights of person and property, and the unre- strained indulgence towards them of every passion which belongs to the char- acter of a barbarous soldiery. Yet such is the state of Greece. The Otto- man power over them, obtained original- ly by the sword, is constantly preserved by the same means. Wherever it exists, it is a mere military power. The relig- ious and civil code of the state being both fixed in the Koran, and equally the object of an ignorant and furious faith, have been found equally incapable of change. " The Turk," it has been said, " has been encamped in Europe for four centuries." He has hardly any more participation in European manners, knowledge, and arts, than when he crossed the Bospliorus. But this is not the worst. The power of the empire is falliMi into anarchy, and as the principle which belongs to the head belongs also to the parts, there are as many despots as there are pachas, beys, and viziers. "Wars are almost perpetual between tlie Sultan and some rebellious governor of a province ; and in the conflict of these despotisms, the people are necess;nily ground between the upper and the nether millstone. In short, the Christian sub- jects of the Sublime Porte feel daily all the miseries which flow from despotism, from anarchy, from slavery, and from religious persecution. If any thing yet remains to heighten such a picture, let it be added, that every office in the government is not only actually, but professedly, venal, — the pachalics, the vizierates, the cadiships, and whatsoever THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. 69 other denomination may denote the de- positary of power. In the wliole world, iSir, there is no such oppression felt as by the Christian Greeks. In various parts of India, to be sure, the govern- ment is bad enough ; but then it is the gi vernment of barbarians over barbari- ans, and the feeling of oppression is, of coui'se, not so keen . There the oppressed are perhaps not better than their oppres- sors; but in the case of Greece, there are nullio:iS of Christian men, not without knowledge, not without refinement, not witliout a strong thirst for all the pleas- ures of civilized life, trampled into the very earth, century after century, by a pillaging, savage, relentless soldiery. Sir, the case is unique. There exists, and has existed, nothing like it. The world has no such misery to show; there is no case in which Christian communi- ties can be called upon with such em- phasis of appeal. But I have said enough, Mr. Chairman, indeed I need have said nothing to satisfy the House, that it must be some new combination of circumstances, or new views of policy in the cabinets of Europe, which have caused this interest- ing struggle not merely to be regarded with indifference, but to be marked with opprobrium. The very statement of the caje, as a contest between the Turks and Greeks, sufficiently indicates what must be the feeling of every individual, and every government, that is not biassed by a particular interest, or a particular feel- ing, to disregard tlie dictates of justice and humanity. And now. Sir, what has been the con- duct pursued by the Allied Powers in rejrard to this contest? "When the revo- lution broke out, the sovereigns were assembled in congress at Laybach ; and the papers of that assembly sufficiently manifest their sentiments. They pro- claim tlieir abhorrence of those " crimi- nal combinations which had been formed in the eastern parts of Europe"; and, although it is possible that this denun- ciation was aimed, more particularly, at the disturbances in the provinces of Wallachia and Moldavia, yet no excep- tion is made, from its general terms, in favor of those events in Greece which were properly the commencement of her revolution, and which could not but be well known at Laybach, before tlie date of these declarations. Now it must be remembered, that Russia was a leading party in this denunciation of the efforts of the Greeks to achieve their libera- tion; and it cannot but be expected by Russia, that the world should also re- member what part she herself has here- tofore acted in the same concern. It is notorious, that within the last half-cen- tury she has again and again excited the (xreeks to rebellion against the Porte, and that she has constantly kept alive in them the hope that she would, one day, by her own great power, break the yoke of their oppressor. Indeed, the earnest attention with which Russia has regarded Greece goes much farther back than to the time I have mentioned. Ivan the Third, in 1482, having espoused a Gre- cian princess, heiress of the last Greek F^niperor, discarded St. George from the Russian arms, and adopted the Greek two-headed black eagle, which has con- tinued in the Russian arms to the pres- ent day. In virtue of the same marriage, tlie Russian princes claim the Greek throne as their inheritance. Under Peter the Great, the policy of Russia developed itself more fully. la 1696, he rendered himself master of Azof, and, in 1098, obtained the right to pass the Dardanelles, and to maintain, by that route, commercial intercourse with the Mediterranean. He had emissa- ries tlu'oughout Greece, and particularly applied himself to gain the clergy. He adopted the Laharum of Constantine, "In hoc signo vinces"; and medals were struck, with the inscription, "Pe- trus I. Russo- Grsecorum Imperator." In whatever new direction the princi- ples of the Holy Alliance may now lead the politics of Russia, or whatever course she may suppose Christianity now pre- scribes to her, in regard to the Greek cause, the time has been when she pro- fessed to be contending for that cause, as identified with Christianity. Tho white banner under which the soldiers of Peter the First usually fought, bore, 70 THE REVOLUTION IN GKEECE. as its inscription, ** In the name of the Prince, and for our country." Relying on the aid of the Greeks, in his war with the Porte, he changed the white flag to red, and displayed on it the words, "In the name of God, and for Christi- anity." The unfortunate issue of this war is well known. Though Anue and Elizabeth, the successors of Peter, did not possess his active character, they kept up a constant communication with Greece, and held out hopes of restoring the Greek empire. Catharine the Sec- ond, as is well known, excited a general revolt in 1769. A Russian fleet ap- peared in the Mediterranean, and a Rus- sian army was landed in the Morea. The Greeks in the end were disgusted at being expected to take an oath of alle- giance to Russia, and the Empress was disgusted because they refused to take it. In 177-4, peace was signed between Russia and the Porte, and the Greeks of the ^lorea were left to their fate. By this treaty the Porte acknowledged the independence of the Khan of the Crimea; a preliminary step to the acquisition of that country by Russia. ' It is not un- worthy of remark, as a circumstance which distinguished this from most other diplomatic transactions, that it conceded to the cabinet of St. Peters- burg tlie right of intervention in the interior affairs of Turkey, in regard to whatever concerned the religion of the Greeks. The cruelties and massa- cres that happened to the Greeks after the peace between Russia and the Porte, notwithstanding the general pardon which had been stipulated for them, need not now be recited. Instead of retracing the deplorable picture, it is enough to say, that in this respect tlie past is justly reflected in the present. The Empress soon after invaded and ^onquered the Crimea, and on one of the gates of Kerson, its capital, caused to be inscribed, " The road to Byzantium." The present Emperor, on his accession to the throne, manifested an intention to adopt the policy of Catharine tlie Second as his own, and the world has not been ri;j;ht in all its suspicions, if a projefit for the partition of Turkey did not form a part of the negotiations of Napoleon and Alexander at Tilsit. AH this course of policy seems sud- denly to be changed. Turkey is no longer regarded, it would appear, as an object of partition or acquisition, and Greek revolts have all at once become, according to the declaration of Laybach, "criminal combinations." The recent congress at Verona exceeded its prede- cessor at Laybach in its denunciations of the Greek struggle. In the circular of the 14th of December, 1822, it declared the Grecian resistance to the Turkish power to be rash and culpable, and la- mented that "the firebrand of rebel- lion had been thrown into the Otto- man empire." This rebuke and crimi- nation we know to have proceeded on those settled principles of conduct which the Continental powers had prescribed for themselves. The sovereigns saw, as well as others, the real condition of the Greeks; they knew as well as others that it was most natural and most justi- fiable, that they should endeavor, at whatever hazard, to change that condi- tion. They knew that they themselves, or at least one of them, had more than once urged the Greeks to similar efforts; that they themselves had thrown the same firebrand into the midst of the Ottoman empire. And yet, so much does it seem to be their fixed object to discountenance whatsoever threatens to disturb the actual government of any country, that. Christians as tliey were, and allied, as they professed to be, for purposes most important to human hap- piness and religion, they have not hesi- tated to declare to the world that they have wholly forborne to exercise any compassion to the Greeks, simply be- cause they thought that they saw, in the struggles of the Morea, the sign of revo- lution. This, then, is coming to a plain, practical result. The Grecian revolution has been discouraged, discountenanced, and denounced, solely because it is a revolution. Independent of all inquiry into the reasonableness of its causes or the enormity of the oppression which produced it; regardless of the peculiar claims which Greece possesses upon the THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. 71 civilized world; and regardless of what has been their own conduct towards her for a century; regardless of the interest of the Christian religion, — the sover- eigns at Verona seized upon the case of the Greek revolution as one above all others calculated to illustrate the fixed principles of their policy. The abomi- nable rule of the Porte on one side, the value and the sufferings of the Christian Greeks on the other, furnished a case likely to convince even an incredulous world of the sincerity of the professions of the Allied Powers. They embraced the occasion with apparent ardor: and the world, I trust, is satisfied. We see here, IMr. Chairman, the direct and actual application of that system which I have attempted to de- scribe. We see it in the very case of Greece. ^V'e learn, authentically and indisputably, that the Allied Powers, holding that all changes in legislation and administration ought to proceed from kings alone, were wholly inexora- ble to the sufferings of the Greeks, and entirely hostile to their success. Now it is upon this practical lesult of the principle of the Continental powers that I wish this House to intimate its opin- ion. The great question is a question of principle. Greece is only the signal instance of the application of that prin- ciple. If the principle be right, if we esteem it conformable to the law of na- tions, if we have nothing to say against it, or if we deem ourselves unfit to ex- press an opinion on the subject, then, of course, no resolution ought to pass. If, on the other hand, we see in the declara- tions of the Allied Powers principles, not only utterly hostile to our own free insti- tutions, but hostile also to the inde- pendence of all nations, and altogether opposed to the nnprovement of the can- dition of human nature; if, in the in- stance before us, we see a most striking exposition and application of those prin- ciples, and if we deem our opinions to be entitled to any weight in the estima- tion of mankind, — then I think it is our duty to adopt some such measure as the proposed resolution. It is worthy of observation, Sir, that as early as July, 1821, Baron .Strogonoff, the Russian minister at Constantinople, represented to the Porte, that, if the un- distinguished massacres of the Greek.s, both of such as were in open resistance and of those who remained patient in their submission were continued, and should become a settled habit, they would give just cause of war against the Porte to all Christian states. This was in 1821.^ It was followed, early in the next year, by that indescribable enor- mity, that appalling monument of bar- barian cruelty, the destruction of Scio; a scene I shall not attempt to describe; a scene from which human nature shrinks shuddering away; a scene having hardly a parallel in the history of fallen man. This scene, too, was quickly followed by the massacres in Cyprus ; and all these things were perfectly known to the Christian powers assembled at Verona. Yet these powers, instead of acting upon the case supposed by Baron Strogonoff, and which one would think had been then fully made out, — instead of being moved by any compassion for the suffer- ings of the Greeks, — these powers, these Christian powers, rebuke their gallantry and insult their sufferings by accusing them of " throwing a firebrand into the Ottoman empire." Such, Sir, appear to me to be the principles on which the Continental powers of Europe have agreed hereafter to act; and this, an eminent instance of the application of those principles. I shall not detain the committee, Mr. Chairman, by any attempt to recite the events of the Greek struggle up to the present time. Its origin may be found, doubtless, in that improved state of knowledge which, for some years, has been gradually taking place in that country. The emancipation of the Greeks has been a subject frequently discussed in modern times. They them- selves are represented as having a vivid remembrance of the distinction of their ancestors, not unmixed with an indig- nant feeling that civilized and Christian Europe should not ere now have aided 1 Annual Register for 1821, p. 251. 72 THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. them in breaking their intolerable fetters. In 1816 a society was founded in Vienna for the encouragement of Gre- cian literature. It was connected with H similar institution at Athens, and another in Thessaly, called the " Gym- nasium of Mount Pelion." The treas- ury and general office of the institution wei-e established at Munich. No politi- cal object was avowed by these insti- tutions, probably none contemplated. Still, however, they had their effect, no doubt, in hastening that condition of things in which the Greeks felt compe- tent to the e.stablishment of their inde- pendence. Many young men have been for years annually sent to the universi- ties in the western states of Europe for their education; and, after the general pacification of Europe, many military men, discharged from other employ- ment, were ready to enter even into so unpromising a service as that of the revolutionary Greeks. In 1820, war commenced between the Porte and Ali, the well-known Pacha of Albania. Differences existed also with Persia and with Russia. In this state of things, at the beginning of 1821, an insurrection broke out in Moldavia, under the direction of Alexander Ypsi- lanti, a well-educated soldier, who had been major-general in the Russian 6ervice. From his character, and the number of those who seemed inclined to join him, he was supposed to be coun- tenanced by the court of St. Petersburg. This, however, was a great mistake, which the Emperor, then at Laybach, took an early opj)ortunity to rectify. The Turki-sh government was alarmed at these occurrences in the northern pi evinces of European Turkey, and caused search to be made of all vessels entering the Black Sea, lest arras or >ther military means should be sent in that manner to the insurgents. This proved inconvenient to the commerce of Russia, and caused some unsatisfactory correspondence between the two powers. It may be worthy of remark, as an exhibition of national character, that, agitated by these ajipearances of intes- tine commotion, the Sultan issued a proclamation, calling on all time Mu.s- sulmans to renounce the pleasures of social life, to prepare arms and horses, and to return to the manner of their ancestors, the life of the plains. The Turk seems to have thought that he had, at last, caught something of the dangei-- ous contagion of European civilization, and tiiat it was necessary to reform his habits, by recurring to the original manners of militai-y roving barbarians. It was about this time, that is to say, at the commencement of 1821, that the revolution burst out in various parts of Greece and the isles. Circumstances, certainly, were not unfavorable to the movement, as one portion of the Turk- ish army was employed in the war against Ali Pacha in Albania, and an- other part in the provinces north of the Danube. Tiie Greeks soon possessed themselves of the open country of tlie Morea, and drove their enemy into the fortresses. Of these, that of Tripolitza, with the city, fell into their haiuls, in the course of the summer. Having after these first movements obtained time to bi-eathe, it became, of course, an early object to establish a govern- ment. For this purpose delegates ol the people assembled, under that name which describes the assembly in which we ourselves sit, that name which "freed the Atlantic," a Congress. A writer, who undertakes to render to the civilized world that sen-ice which was once performed by Edmund Burke, I mean the compiler of the English An- nual Register, asks, by what authority this assembly could call itself a Con- gress. Simply, Sir, by the same au- tliority by wliich the people of the United States have given the same name to their own legislature. We, at least, should be naturally inclined to think, not only as far a.** names, but things al.so, are concerned, tliat the Greeks could hardly have begun their revolution under bett<^r auspices; since they have endeavored to render ajiplica- ble to themselves the general principles of our form of government, as well as its name. This constitution went into THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. 73 operation at the commencement of the next year. In tlie mean time, the war with Ali Paclia was ended, he having sunendcred, and being afterwards as- sassinated, by an instance of treachery and perfidy, which, if it had happened elsewhere than under the government of the Turlis, would have desei-ved notice. The negotiation with Russia, too, took a turn unfavorable to the Greeks. The great point upon which Russia insisted, beside the abandonment of the measure of searching vessels bound to the Black Sea, was, that tiie Porte should with- draw its armies from the neighborhood of the Russian frontiers; and the imme- diate consequence of this, when effected, was to add so much more to the disposa- ble force ready to be employed against the Greeks. These events seemed to have left the whole force of the Ottoman empire, at the commencement of 1822, in a condition to be employed against the Greek rebellion ; and, accordingly, very many anticipated the immediate destruction of the cause. The event, however, was ordered otherwise. Where the greatest effort was made, it was met and defeated. Entering the Morea with an army which seemed capable of bear- ing down all resistance, the Tui-ks were nevertheless defeated and driven back, and pursued beyond the isthmus, within which, as far as it appears, from that time to the present, they have not been able to set their foot. It was in April of this year that the destruction of Scio took place. That island, a sort of appanage of the Sul- tana mother, enjoyed many privileges peculiar to itself. In a population of 130,000 or 140,000, it had no more than 2,000 or 3,000 Turks; indeed, by some accounts, not near as many. The ab- sence of these ruffian masters had in some degree allowed opportunity for tlie promotion of knowledge, the accumula- tion of wealth, and the general cultiva- tion of society. Here was the seat of modern Greek literature; here were libraries, printing-presses, and other es- tablishments, which indicate .some ad- vancement in refinement and knowledge. Certain of the inhabitants of Samos, it M-ould seem, envious of this comparative haiipiness of Scio, landed u]»)\i tin- isl- and in an irregular multitude, for the purpo.se of compelling its inhabitants to make common cause with their country- men against their oppressors. These, being joined by the peasantry, marched to the city and drove the Turks into the castle. The Turkish fleet, lately rein- forced from Egypt, happened to be in the neighboring seas, and, learning these events, landed a force on the isl- and of fifteen thousand men. There was nothing to resist such an army. These troops immediately entered the city and began an indiscriminate mas- sacre. The city was fired; and in four days the fire and sword of the Turk ren- dered the beautiful Scio a clotted mass of blood and ashes. The details are too shocking to be recited. Forty thousand women and children, unhappily saved from the general destruction , were after- wards sold in the market of Smyrna, and sent off into distant and hopele.ss servitude. Even on the wharves of our own cities, it has been said, have been sold the utensils of those hearths which now exist no longer. Of the whole population which I have mentioned, not above nine hundred persons were left living upon the island. I will only rejieat, Sir, that these ti'agical scenes were as fully known at the Congress of Verona, as they are now known to us; and it is not too much to call on the powers that constituted that congress, in the name of conscience and in the name of humanity, to tell us if there be nothing even in these unparalleled ex- cesses of Turkish barbarity to excite a sentiment of compassion ; nothing which they regard as so objectionable as even the very idea of popular resistance to power. The events of the year which has just passed by, as far as they have become known to us, have been even more favor- able to the Greeks than those of the year preceding. J omit all details, as being as well known to others as to my- self. Suffice it to say, that with no other enemy to contend with, and no diversion of his force to other objects, the Porte 74 THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. has not been able tx3 carry the war into the Morea; and that, by the last ac- counts, its armies were acting defensively in Thessaly. I pass over, also, the naval engagements of the Greeks, although that is a mode of warfare in which they are calculated to excel, and in which the} have already performed actions of Buch distinguished skill and bravery, as would draw applause upon the best mar./iers in the world. The present state of the war would seem to be, that the Gieeks possess the whole of the Morea with the exception of the three fortresses of Patras, Coron, and Modon; all Candia, but one fortress; and most of the other islands. They possess the citadel of Athens, Missolonghi, and sev- eral other places in Livadia. They have been able to act on the offensive, and to carry the war beyond the isthmus. There is no reason to believe their ma- rine is weakened; more probably, it is strengthened. But, what is most impor- tant of all, they have obtained time and experience. They have awakened a sym- pathy throughout Europe and through- out America; and they have formed a government which seems suited to the emergency of their condition. Sir, they have done much. It would be gi-eat injustice to compare their achievements with our own. We began our Revolution, already possessed of government, and, comparatively, of civil liberty. Our ancestors had from the first been accustomed in a great measure to govern themselves. Thi^y were famil- iar with popular elections and legislative assemblies, and well acquainted with the general principles and practice of free governments. I'hey had little else to do than to throw off the paramount author- ity of the parent state. Enough was still left, both of law and of organiza- tion, to conduct society in its accustomed course, and to unite men together for a common object. The Greeks, of course, could act with little concert at the be- ginning; they were unaccust<3ined to the exercise of power, without experience, with limited knowledge, without aid, and surrounded by nations which, what- ever claims the Greeks might seem to have upon them, have afforded them nolhins: but discouragement and re- proach. They have held out, however, for three campaigns; and that, at least, is something. Constantinople and the northern provinces have sent forth thou- sands of troops; — they have been de- feated. Tripoli, and Algiers, and Egypt, have contributed their marine contin- gents; — they have not kept the ocean. Hordes of Tartars have crossed the Bo.s- phorus; — they have died where the Persians died. The powerful monar- chies in the neighborhood have de- nounced their cause, and admonished them to abandon it and submit to their fate. They have answered them, that, although two hundred thousand of their countrymen have offered up their lives, there yet remain lives to offer; and that it is the determination of all, " yes, of ALL," to persevere until they shall have established their liberty, or until the power of their oppressors shall have re- lieved them from the burden of exist- ence. It may now be asked, perhaps, whether the expression of our own sympathy, and that of the country, may do them good? I liope it may. It may give them cour- age and spirit, it may assure them of public regarcf, teach them that they are not wholly forgotten by the civilizi'd world, and inspire them with constancy in the pursuit of their great end. At any rate. Sir, it appears to me that the measure which I have proposed is due to our own character, and called for by our own duty. When we shall have discharged that duty, we may leave the rest to the disposition of Proviilence. I do not see how it can be doubted that this measiue is entirely pacific. I profess my inability to perceive that it has any possible tendency to involve our neutral relations. If the resolution i>ass, it is not of necessity to be immediately acted on. It will not be acted on at all, unless, in the opinion of the President, a proper and safe occasion for acting upon it shall arise. If we adopt the resolution to-day, our relations with every foreign state will bo to-morrow precisely what they now are The re.so THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. 76 lution will be sufficient to express our seatiiiients on the subjects to which I have adverted. Useful for that purpose, it can be mischievous for no purpose. If the topic were properly introduced into the message, it cannot be improperly introduced into discussion in this House. If t were proper, which no one doubts, ijr the President to express his opinions upon it, it cannot, I think, be improper for us to express ours. The only certain effect of this resolution is to signify, in a form usual in bodies constituted like this, our approbation of the general eentiinent of the message. Do we wish to withhold that approbation? The res- olution confers on the President no new power, nor does it enjoin on him the exercise of any new duty; nor does it hasten him in the discharge of any exist- ing duty. I cannot imagine that this resolution can add any thing to those excitements which it has been supposed, I think very causelessly, might possibly provoke the Turkish government to acts of hostility. There is already the message, expressing the hope of success to the Greeks and disaster to the Turks, in a much stronger manner than is to be implied from the terms of this resolution. There is the correspondence between the Secretary of State and the Greek Agent in London, already made public, in which similar wishes are expressed, and a continuance of the correspondence apparently in- vited. I might add to this, the unex- ampled burst of feeling which this cause has called forth from all classes of so- ciety, and the notorious fact of pecuniary contributions made thi'oughout the coun- try for its aid and advancement. After all this, whoever can see cause of danger to our pacific relations from the adoption of this resolution has a keener vision than I can pretend to. Sir, there is no augmented danger; there is no danger. The question comes at last to this, whether, on a subject of this sort, this House holds an opinion which is worthy to be expressed. Even suppose. Sir, an agent or com- missioner were to be immediately sent, — a measure which I myself believe to ue the proper one, — there is no breach of neutrality, nor any just cause of offence. Such an agent, of course, would not be accredited; he would not be a public minister. The object would be inquiry and information; inquiry which we have a right to make, infor- mation which we are interested to pos- sess. If a dismemberment of the Turkish empire be taking place, or has already taken place ; if a new state be rising, or be already risen, in the Mediterranean, — who can doubt, that, without any breach of neutrality, we may inform ourselves of these events for the government of our own concerns? The Greeks have declared the Turkish coasts in a state of blockade; may we not inform ourselve.i whether this blockade be nominal or reaU and, of course, whether it shall be regarded or disregarded? The greater our trade may happen to be with Smyrna, a consideration which seems to have alarmed some gentlemen, the greater is the reason, in my opinion, why we should seek to be accurately informed of those events which may affect its safety. It seems to me impossible, therefore, for any reasonable man to imagine that this resolution can exj^ose us to the resentment of the Sublime Porte. As little reason is there for fearing its consequences upon the conduct of the Allied Powers. They may, very natu- rally, dislike our sentiments upon the subject of the Greek revolution; but what those sentiments are they will much more explicitly learn in the Pres- ident's message than in this resolution. They might, indeed, prefer that we should express no dissent from the doc- trines which they have avowed, and the application which they have made of tliose doctrines to the case of Greece. But I trust we are not disposed to leave them in any doubt as to our sentiments upon these important subjects. They have expressed their opinions, and do not call that expression of opinion an interference; in which re.'^pect they are right, as the expression of ojnnion in such cases is not such an interference as would justify the Greeks in considering 76 THE REVOLUTION IN GREECE. the powers at war with them. For the same reason, any expression which we may make of different principles and different sympatliies is no interference. Xo one would call the President's mes- sage an interference; and yet it is much stronger in that respect than this reso- lution. If either of them could be con- strued to be an interference, no doubt it would be improper, at least it would be so according to my view of the subject; for the very thing which I have at- tempted to resist in the course of these observations is the right of foreign inter- ference. But neither the message nor the resolution has that character. There is not a power in Europe which can sup- pose, that, in expressing our opinions on this occasion, we are governed by any desire of aggrandizing ourselves or of injuring others. We do no more than to maintain those established principles in which we have an interest in common with other nations, and to resist the in- troduction of new principles and new rules, calculated to destroy the relative independence of states, and particularly hostile to the whole fabric of our gov- ernment. I close, then. Sir, with repeating, that tlie object of this resolution is to avail ourselves of the interesting occasion of the Greek revolution to make our prt>- test against the doctrines of the Allied Powers, both as they are laid down in principle and as they are applied iu practice. I think it right, too, Sir, not to be unseasonable in the expression of our regard, and, as far as that goes, in a manifestation of our sympathy with a long oppressed and now struggling peo- ple. I am not of those who would, in the hour of utmost peril, withhold such encouragement as might be properly and lawfully given, and, when the crisis should be past, overwhelm the rescued sufferer with kindness and caresses. The Greeks address the civilized world with a pathos not easy to be resisted. They invoke our favor by more moving considerations than can well belong to the condition of any other people. They stretch out their arms to the Christian communities of the earth, beseeching them, by a generous recollection of their ancestors, by the consideration of their desolated and ruined cities and villages, by their wives and children sold into an accursed slavery, by their blood, which they seem willing to pour out like water, by the common faith, and in the name, which unites all Christians, tliat they would extend to them at least somo token of compassionate regard. THE TARIFF. k SPEECH DELIVERED IN THE ROUSE OF REPRESENTATIVEa OF THE UNITED STATES, ON THE IsT AND 2d OF APRIL, 1821 [At an early period of the session of Con- gress of 18'2;)-24 a bill was introduced into the House of Ht'presfntatives to amend tiie several acts hiving duties on imports. The object of the bill was a comprehensive re- vision of the existing laws, with a view to the extension of the protective system. The bill became the subject of a protracted de- bate, in which much of the talent of the House on both sides was engaged. Mr. Webster took an active part in the discus- sion, and si)()ke upon many of the details of the bill, while it remained in the committee of the whole House on the state of the Union. Several objectionable provisions were removed, and various amendments were introduced upon his motion ; and it was a matter of regret to him, as seen in the following speech, that the friends of tlie bill were not able or willing to bring it into a form in which, as a whole, he could give it his support. On the 30th and 31st of March, ilr. Clay, Speaker of the House, addressed the committee of the whole, at length and with great ability, on the gen- eral princii)lcs of the bill ; and he was suc- ceeded by Mr. Webster, on the 1st and 2d of April, in the following speech.] Mr. Chairm.\x, — I will avail my- self of the present occasion to make some remarks on certain principles and opinions which have been recently ad- vanced, and on those considerations wliich, in my judgment, ought to gov- ern us in deciding upon the several and ^spective parts of this very important and complex measure. I can truly say that this is a painful duty. I deeply re- gret the necessity which is likely to be imposed upon me of giving a general affirmative or negative vote on the whole of tlie bill. I cannot but think this mode of proceeding liable to great objec- tions. It exposes both those who sup- port and those who oppose the measure to very unjust and injurious misappre- hensions. There may be good reasons for favoring some of the provisions of tl)e bill, and equally strong reasons for opposing others; and these provisions do not stand to each other in the relation of principal and incident. If that were the case, tliose who are in favor of the prin- cipal might forego their opinions upon incidental and subordinate provisions. But the bill proposes enactments entirely distinct and different from one another in character and tendency. Some of it3 clauses are intended merely for revenue; and of those which regard the protection of home manufactures, one part stands upon very different grounds fi-om those of other parts. So that probably every gentleman who may ultimately support the bill will vote for much which his judgment does not approve; and those who oppose it will oppose some- thing which they would very gladly sup- port. Being intrusted with the interests of a district liighly commercial, and deeply interested in manufactures also, I wish to state my opinions on the present measure, not as on a whole, for it has no entire and homogeneous character, but as on a collection of different enact- ments, some of which meet my approba- tion and some of which do not. And allow me, Sir, in the first place, to state my regret, if indeed I ought not to express a warmer sentiment, at 78 THE TARIFF. the names or designations which Mr. Speaker ^ has seen fit to adopt for the purpose of describing the advocates and the opposers of the present bill. It is a question, he says, between th"^ friends of an "American policy" and .:hose of a "foreign policy." This, Sir, is an as- 8 iniption which I take the liberty most directly tx) deny. Mr. Speaker certainly intended nothing invidious or deroga- tory to any part of the House by this mode of denominating friends and ene- mies. But there is power in names, and this manner of distinguishing those who favor and those who oppose partic- ular measures may lead to inferences to which no member of the House can submit. It may imply that there is a more exclusive and peculiar regard to American interests in one class of opin- ions than in another. Such an impli- cation is to be resisted and repelled. Every member has a right to the pre- sumption, that he pursues what he be- lieves to be the interest of his country with as sincere a zeal as any other mem- ber. I claim this in my own case; and while I shall not, for any purpose of de- scription or convenient arrangement use terms which may imply any disrespect to other men's opinions, much less any imputation upon other men's motives, it is my duty to take care that the use of such terms by others be not, against the will of .those who adopt them, made to produce a false impression. Indeed, Sir, it is a little astonishing, if it seemed convenient to Mr. Speaker, for tlie purposes of distinction, to make use of the terms " American policy " and "foreign pojicy," that he should not have applied them in a manner precisely the reverse of that in whicli he has in fact used them. If names are thought necessary, it would be well enough, one would tliink, that the name should be in some measure descriptive of the thing; and since Mr. Speaker denominates the policy which he recommends "a new policy in this country " ; since he speaks of the present measure as a new era in our legislation ; since he professes to in- i Mr. Clay. vite us to depart from our accustomed course, to instruct ourselves by the wis- dom of others, and to adopt the policy of the most distinguished foreign states, — one is a little curious to know with what propriety of speech this imitation of other nations is denominated an " American policy," while, on the contra- ry, a preference for our own established system, as it now actually exists and always has existed, is called a "foreign policy." This favorite American policy is what America has never tried; and this odious foreign policy is what, as we are told, foreign states have never pur- sued. Sir, that is the truest American policy which shall most usefully employ American capital and American labor, and best sustain the whole population. "With me it is a fundamental axiom, it is interwoven with aU my opinions, that the great interests of the country are united and inseparable; that agricul- ture, commerce, and manufactures will prosper together or languish together; and that all legislation is dangerous which proposes to benefit one of these without looking to consequences which may fall on the others. Passing from this. Sir, I am bound to say that Mr. Speaker began his able and impressive speech at the proper point of inquiry, — I mean the present state and condition of the country, — although I am so unfortunate, or rather although I am so happy, as to differ from him very widely in regard to that condition. I dissent entirely from the justice of that picture of distress which he has draA^^l. I have not seen the reality, and know not where it exists. Within my obser- vation, there is no cause for so gloomy and terrifying a representation. In re- spect to tlie New England States, with the condition of which I am of course best acquainted, the present appears to me a period of veiy general prosperity. Not, indeed, a time for sudden acquisi- tion and gi-eat profits, not a day of extraordinary activity and successful speculation. There is no doubt a con- siderable depression of prices, and, in some degree, a stagnation of business. But the case presented by Mr. Speaker THE TARIFF. 7y was not one of depi-e.^i^ion, but of distress ; of universal, pervading, intense distress, Ibnited to no class and to no place. We are represented as on the very verge and brink of national ruin. So far from ac- quiescing in these opinions, I believe there has been no period in which the general prosperity was better secured, or i-ested on a more solid foundation. As applicable to the Eastern States, I put this remark to their representatives, and ask them if it is not true. AVhen has there been a time in which the means of living have been more accessi- ble and more abundant? 'When has la- bor been rewarded, I do not say with a larger, but with a more certain success? Profits, indeed, are low; in some pur- suits of life, which it is not proposed to benefit, but to burden, by this bill, veiy low. But still I am unacquainted with any proofs of extraordinary distress. What, indeed, are the general indica- tions of the state of the country? There Ls no famine nor pestilence in the land, nor war, nor desolation. There is no writhing under the burden of taxation. The means of subsistence are abundant; and at the very moment when the mis- erable condition of the country is as- serted, it is admitted that the wages of labor are high in comparison with those of any other country. A country, then, enjoying a profound peace, perfect civil liberty, with the means of subsistence cheap and abundant, with the reward of labor sure, and its wages higher than an}"w^liere else, cannot be represented as in gloom, melancholy, and distress, but by the effort of extraordinary powers of tragedy. Even if, in judging of this question, we were to regard only those proofs to which we have been referred, we shall probably come to a conclusion somewhat different from that which has been drawn. Our exports, for example, al- though certainly less than in some years, were not, last year, so much below an average formed upon the exports of a series of years, and putting those ex- ports at a fixed value, as might be sup- posed. The value of the exports of agricultural products, of animals, of the products of the forest and of the sea, together with gimpowder, spirits, and sundry unenumerated articles, amounted in the several years to the following sums, viz. : — In 1790, $27,716,152 1804, 33,842,316 1807, 38,465,854 Coming up now to our own times, and taking the exports of the years 1821, 1822, and 1823, of the same articles and products, at the same prices, they stand thus : — In 1821, ^5,643,175 1822, 48,782,295 1823, 55,863,491 Mr. Speaker has taken the very ex- traordinary year of 1803, and, adding to the exportation of that year what he thinks ought to have been a just aug- mentation, in jiroportion to the increase of our population, he swells the result to a magnitude, which, when compared with our actual exports, would exliibit a great deficiency. But is there any justice in this mode of calculation? In the first place, as before observed, the year 1803 was a year of extraordinary exportation. By reference to the ac- counts, that of the article of flom-, for example, there was an export that year of thirteen hundred thousand barrels; but the very next year it fell to eiglit hundred thousand, and the next year to seven hundred thousand. In the next place, there never was any reason to expect that the increase of our exports of agricidtural products would keep pace with the increase of our popula- tion. That woidd be against all experi- ence. It is, indeed, most desirable, that there should be an augmented demand for the products of agriculture; but, nevertheless, the official returns of our exports do not show that absolute want of all foreign market whioli hup hf«*>p -^ strongly stated. But there are otlier means oy wh*cJi to judge of the general condition of the people. The quantity of the means of subsistence consumed, or, to make use of a phraseology better suited to the 80 THE TARIFF. condition of onr own people, the quan- tity of tlie comforts of life enjoyed, is one of those means. It so hajv pens, indeed, that it is not so easy in this country as elsewhere to ascertain facts of this sort with accuracy. Where most of the articles of subsistence and most of the comforts of life are taxed, there is, of course, great facility in ascertaining, from official statements, the amount of consumption. But in this country, most fortunately, the gov- ernment neither knows, nor is concerned to know, tlie annual consumption; and estimates can only be formed in another mode, and in reference only to a few articles. Of these articles, tea is one. It is not quite a luxury, and yet is some- thing above the absolute necessaries of life. Its consumption, therefore, will be diminished in times of adversity, and augmented in times of prosperity. By deducting the annual export from the annual import, and taking a number of years together, we may arrive at a prob- able estimate of consumption. The aver- age of eleven years, from 1790 to 1800, inclusive, will be found to be two mil- lions and a half of pounds. From ISOl to 1812, inclusive, the average was three millions seven hundred thousand; and the average of the last three years, to wit, 1821, 1822, and 1823, was five millions and a half. Having made a just allowance for the increase of our numbers, we shall still find, I think, from these statements, that there is no distress which has limited our means of subsistence and enjo^nnent. In forming an opinion of the degi'ee of general prosperity, we may regard, likewise, the progress of internal im- provements, the investment of capital in roads, bridges, and canals. All these prove a balance of income over expendi- ture; they afford evidence that there is a surjilus of profits, which the present generation is usefully vesting for the benefit of the next. It cannot be denied, that, in this particular, the progress of the country is steady and rapid. We m;iy look, too, to the sums ex- pendoJ Jot fduciitioii. Are otir colleges deser<*res3- ure still exists in the country ; and, further, I would put the question to the members of this committee, whether it is not from that part of the people who have tried this paper system, and tried it to their cost, that this bill receives the most earnest support? And I can- not forbear to ask, further, whether this support does not proceed rather from a general feeling of uneasiness under the present condition of things, than from the clear perception of any benefit which the measure itself can confer? Is not all expectation of advantage centred in a sort of vague hope, tliat cliaage may produce relief? Debt certainly presses hardest where prices have been longest kept up by artificial means. They find the shock liglitest who take it soonest; and I fully believe that, if those parts of the country which now suffer most had not augmented the force of the blow by deferring it, they would liave now been in a much better condition than they are. ^^'e may assure ourselves, once for all. Sir, that there can be no such thing as payment of debts by legislation. We may abolish debts indeed; we may trans- fer property by visionary and violent laws. But we deceive both ourselves and our constituents, if we flatter either ourselves or them with the hope that there is any relief against whatever pressure exists, but in economy and in- dustry. The depression of prices and the stagnation of business have been in truth tl)e necessary result of cir- cumstances. No government could pro- vent them, and no government can al- together relieve tlie people from their effect. We have enjoyed a day of ex- traordinary prosperity; we had been neutral while the world was at war, and had found a great demand for our prod- ucts, our luivigatiun, ami our labor. We THE TARIFF. 83 liad uo right to expect that that state of tilings would continue always. With the return of peace, foreign nations would struggle for themselves, and enter into competition with us in the great objects of pursuit. Now, Sir, w'hat is the remedy for existing evils ? What is the course of policy suited to our actual condition? Cerfaiuly it is not our wisdom to adopt anv system that yuiy be offered to us, without examination, and in the blind hope that whatever changes our con- dition may improve it. It is better that we should "bear those ills we have, Than fly to others that we know not of." "\\'e are bound to see that there is a fit- ness and an aptitude in whatever meas- ures may be reconnnended to relieve the evils that afflict us ; and before we adopt a system that professes to make great alterations, it is our duty to look care- fully to each leading interest of the com- nmnity, and see how it may probably be affected by our proposed legislation. And, in the first place, what is the condition of our commerce? Here we must clearl}' perceive, that it is not en- joying that rich hai'vest which fell to its fortune during the continuance of the Em-opean wars. It has been greatly depressed, and limited to small profits. Still, it is elastic and active, and seems capable of recovering itself in some measure from its depression. The ship- ping interest, also, has suffered severely, still more severely, probably, than com- merce. If any thing should strike us with astonishment, it is that the navi- gation of the United States should be able to sustain itself. Without any gov- «rnnieLt protection whatever, it goes abroad to challenge competition with the whole world; and, in spite of all ob- stacles, it has yet been able to maintain eight hundred thousand tons in the em- ployment of foreign trade. How, Sir, do the ship-owners and navigators ac- complish this ? How is it that they are able to meet, and in some measure over- come, universal competition ? It is not, Sir, by protection and bounties; but by unwearied exertion, by extreme econ- omy, by unshaken perseverance, by that manly and resolute spirit which relies on itself to protect itself. These causes alone enable American ships still to keep their element, and show the flag of their country in distant seas. The rates of insurance may teach us how thoroughly our ships are built, and how skilfully and safely they are navigated. IJisks are taken, as I learn, from the United States to Liverpool, at one per cent; and from the United States to Canton and back, as low as three per cent. But when we look to the low rate of freight, and when we consider, also, tliat the articles entering into the composition of a ship, with the exception of wood, are dearer here than in other countries, we cannot but be utterly surprised that the shipping interest has been able to sus- tain itself at all. I need not say that the navigation of the country is essential to its honor and its defence. Yet, instead of pi'oposing benefits for it in this hour of its depression, we threaten by this measure to lay upon it new and heavy burdens. In the discussion, the other day, of that provision of the biU which proposes to tax tallow for the benefit of the oil-merchants and whalemen, we had the pleasure of hearing eloquent eulo- giums upon that portion of om* shipping employed in the whale-fishery, and strong statements of its importance to the pub- lic interest. But the same bill proposes a severe tax upon that interest, for the benefit of the iron-manufacturer and the hemp-grower. So that the tallow-chand- lers and soapboilers are sacrificed to the oil-merchants, in order that these again may contribute to the manufacturers of iron and the growers of hemp. If such be the state of our commerce and navigation, what is the condition of our home manufactures? How are they amidst the general depression? Do they need fiu-ther protection? and if any, how much? On all these points, we have had much general statement, but little precise information. In the very elaborate speech of !Mr. Speaker, we are not supplied with satisfactory gi-ouuda of judghig with respect to these varioua 84 THE TARIFF. particulars. TMio can tell, from any I tiling yet before the committee, whether | the proposed duty be too high or too low on any one article? Gentlemen tell us, that they are in favor of domesiic industrj' ; so am I. They would give it protection; so would I. But then all domestic industn.- is not confined to manuiactmes. The emplojTiients of agricidtuie, commerce, and navigation are all branches of the same domestic industry; tliey all furnish emplo^niient for American capital and American labor. And when the question is, whether new duties shall be laid, for the pui-pose of giving further encom-age- ment to particular manufactm-es, eveiy reasonable man must ask himself, both whether the proposed new encourage- ment be necessary, and whether it can be given without injustice to other branches of industry. It is desirable to know, also, some- what more distinctly, how the proposed means will produce the intended effect. One great object proposed, for example, is the mcrease of the home market for the cousmnption of agricultm-al prod- ucts. This certainly is much to be desu-ed ; but what provisions of the bill are expected wholly or principally to produce tliis, is not stated. I would not deny that some increase of the home market may follow, from the adoption of this bill, but all its provisions have not an eijual tendency to produce this effect. Those manufactm-es which em- ploy most labor, create, of com-se, most demand for articles of consumption; aud those create least in the production of which ca[)ital and skill enter as the chief ingredients of cost. I camiot. Sir-, take this bill merely because a com- mittee has reconnnended it. I cannot espouse a side, and tight mider a flag. I wholly repel the idea that we must take tliis law, or pass no law on the subject. What sliould hinder us from exercising our own judgments upon these provisions, singly and severally? "Who has tlie power to place us, or why Bhould we place ourselves, in a condition where we cannot give to every measiu'e, lliat is distinct and separate in itself, a separate and distinct consideration? Sir, I presmne no member of the com- mittee will witliliold his assent fi'om what he thinks right, imtil others will yield their assent to what tliey think wrong. There are many things in this bill acceptable, probably, to the general sensb of the House. "Why shouM not these provisions be passed into a law, and otliers left to be decided upon their own merits, as a majority of the House shall see fit? To some of these pro- visions I am myself decidedly favora- ble; to others I have great objections; and I shoiUd have been veiy glad of au opportmiity of giving my own vote dis- tinctly on propositions which are, in their own natiu-e, essentially and sub- stantially distinct from one another. But, Su-, before expressing my ovra opinion upon the several provisions of this bill, I will advert for a moment to some other general topics. "We have heard much of the policy of England, and her example has been repeatedly m-ged upon us, as proving, not only the expediency of encom-agement and pro- tection, but of exclusion and direct prohibition also. I took occasion the other day to remark, that more libei-al notions were becoming prevalent on tliis subject ; that the policy of restraints and prohibitions was getting out of repute, as the true nature of commerce became better imderstood; and tliat, among public men, those most distinguished were most decided in their reprobation of the broad principle of exclusion and prohibition. Upon the truth of this representation, as matter of fact, I sup- posed there could not be two opinions amoaer those who had observed the progress of political sentinient in otlier countries, and were acquainted with its present state. Li tliis respect, however, it would seem that I was greatly mis- taken. "We have heard it again and agaui declared, that the English govern- ment still adheres, with immovable firm- ness, to its old doctrines of prohibition; that although jomnalists, theorists, and scientific writers advance other doc- trines, yet the practical men, the legis- lators, the government of the country, THE TARIFF. 85 are too wise to follow them. It has even been most sagaciously hinted, that the promulgation of liberal opinions on these subjects is intended only to delude other governments, to cajole them into the folly of liberal ideas, while England retains to herself all the benefits of the admirable old system of prohibition. "W'e have heard from ]\Ir. Speaker a ■warm commendation of the complex mechanism of this system. The British empire, it is said, is, in the first place, to be protected against the rest of the world; then the British Isles against the colonies ; next, the isles respectively against each other, England herself, as the heart of the empire, being protected most of all, and against all. Truly, Sir, it appears to me that Mr. Speaker's imagination has seen system, and order, and beauty, in that which is much more justly considered as the result of ignorance, partiality, or vio- lence. This part of English legislation has resulted, partly from considering Ireland as a conquered country, partly from the want of a complete union, even with Scotland, and partly from the narrow views of colonial regulation, which in early and uninformed periods influenced the European states. Xothing, J imagine, would strike the public men of England more singularly, than to find gentlemen of real informa- tion and much weight in the councils of this country expressmg sentiments like these, in regard to the existing state of these English laws. I have never said, indeed, that prohibitory laws do not exist in England ; we all know they do ; but the question is, Does she owe her prosperity and greatness to these laws? I venture to say, that such is not the opmion of public men now in England, and the continuance of the laws, even without any alteration, would not be evidence that their opinion is different from what I have represented it; be- cause the laws having existed long, and great interests having been built up on the faith of them, they cannot now be repealed without gi-eat and ovei"wlielm- ing inconvenience. Because a thing has Deeu wTongly done, it does not therefore follow that it can now be midone; and this is the reason, as I understand it, for which exclusion, pro- hibition, and monopoly are suffered to remain in any degree in the English system; and for the same reason, it will be wise in us to take our measures, on all subjects of this kind, with great caution. We may not be able, but at the hazard of much injuiy to individuals, hereafter to retrace our steps. And yet, whatever is extravagant or unreasonable is not likely to endure. There may come a moment of strong reaction ; and if no moderation be sho-mi in laying on duties, there may be as little scruple in taking them off. It may be here observed, that tnere is a broad and marked distinction between entire prohibition and reasonable encoui-- agement. It is one thing, by duties or taxes on foreign articles, to awaken a home competition in the production of the same articles ; it is another thing to remove all competition by a total ex- clusion of the foreign article ; and it is quite another thing still, by total pro- hibition, to raise up at home manufac- tures not suited to the climate, the natm'e of the coimtry, or the state of the population. These are substantial distinctions, and although it may not be easy in every case to detennine which of them a;iplies to a given article, yet the distinctions themselves exist, and in most cases will be suificiently clear to indicate the true course of policy; and, unless I have greatly mis- taken the prevailing sentiment in the councils of England, it gi-ows eveiy day more and more favorable to the diminution of resti'ictions, and to the wisdom of leaving much (I do not say every thing, for that would not be true) to the enterprise and the discretion of individuals. I should certainly not have taken up the time of the committee to state at any length the opinions of other governments, or of the public men of other counti-ies, upon a subject like this; but an occasional remark made by me the other day, having been so dii-ectly controverted, especially by ^Ir. Speaker, iu his observations j-esterday^ 86 THE TARIFF. I must take occasion to refer to some proofs of -what I have stated. What, then, is the state of English opinion? Everybody knows that, after the termination of the late European war, there came a time of great press- ure in England. Since her example has been quoted, let it be asked in what mode her government sought relief. Did it aim to maintain artificial and unnatural prices V Did it maintain a swollen and extravagant paper circula- tion? Did it carry further the laws of prohibition and exclusion ? Did it draw closer the cords of colonial re- straint ? No, Sir, but precisely the reverse. Instead of relying on legisla- tive contrivances and artificial devices, it trusted to the enterpri.se and industry of the people, which it sedulously sought to excite, not by imposing restraint, but by removing it, wlierever its removal was practicable. In ^lay, 1820, the at- tention of the government having been much turned to the state of foreign trade, a distinguished member ^ of the House of Peers brought forward a Par- liamentary motion upon tiiat subject, followed by an ample discussion and a full statement of his own opinions. In the course of his remarks, he observed, '* that there ought to be no prohibitory duties as such ; for that it was evident, that, where a manufacture could not be carried on, or a production raised, but under the protection of a prohibitory duty, that manufacture, or that prod- uce, could not be brought to market but at a loss. In his opinion, the name of strict prohibition might, therefore, in commerce, be got rid of altogether ; but he did not see the same objection to protecting duties, which, while they admitted of the introduction of com- modities from abroad similar to those which we ourselves manufactured, jilaced them so much on a level as to allow a competition between them." •No axiom," he added, "was more true than this: that it was by growing what the territory of a country could givw most cheaply, and by receiving * LorJ Lansdowne. from other countries what it could not produce except at too gi-eat an expense, that the greatest degree of happiness was to be communicated to the greatest extent of population." In assenting to the motion, the first minister ^ of the crown expressed his own opinion of the great advantage re- sulting from unrestricted freedom of trade. " Of the soundness of that gen eral principle," he observed, " I can entertain no doubt. I can entertair. no doubt of what would have been the great advantages to the civilized world, if the system of unrestricted trade had been acted upon by every nation from the earliest period of its commercial in- tercourse with its neighbors. If to those advantages there could have been any exceptions, I am persuaded that they would have been but few; and I am also persuaded that the cases to which they would have referred would not have been, in themselves, con- nected with the trade and commerce of England. But we are now in a situation in which, I will not say that a reference to the principle of un- restricted trade can be of no use, because such a reference may correct erroneous reasoning, but in which it is impossible for us, or for any country in the world but the United States of America, to act unreservedly on that principle. The commercial regulations of the European world have been long established, and cannot suddenly be departed from." Having supposed a proposition to be made to I2ngland by a foreign state for free commerce and in- tercourse, and an unrestricted excliange of agricultural products and of manu- factures, he proceeds to ebserve: " II would be impossible to accede to such a proposition. We have risen to our }ires- ent greatness under a different system. Some suppose that we have risen iu consequence of that system; others, of tvhom I am one, believe that tee have risen in spile of that system. But, whichever of these hypotheses be true, certain it i.s that we liave risen under a very differ- 2 Lord Liverpool. THE TARIFF. 87 ent system than tliat of free and unre- stricted trade. It is utterly irajiossible, witli our debt and taxation, even if tliey were but half tlieir existing amount, that we can suddenly adopt the system of free trade." Lord Elleiiborough, in the same de- bate, said, " that he attributed the gen- eral distress then existing in Europe to the regulations that had taken place Bince the destruction of the French power. Most of the states on the Con- tin»uit had surrounded themselves as witl walls of brass, to inhibit inter- course with other states. Intercourse was prohibited, even in districts of the same state, as was the case in Austria and Sardinia. Thus, though the taxes on the people had been lightened, the severity of their condition had been in- creased, lie believed tliat the discon- tent which pervaded most parts of Europe, and especially Germany, was more owing to commercial restrictions than to any theoretical doctrines on gov- ernment; and that a free communica- tion among them would do more to restore tranquillity, than any other step that could be adopted. He objected to all attemjits to frustrate the benevolent intentions of Providence, which had given to various countries various wants, in order to bring them together. He objected to it as anti-social ; he objected to it as making commerce the means of barbarizing instead of enlightening na- tions. The state of the trade with France was most disgraceful to both countries; the two greatest civilized na- tions of the world, placed at a distance of scarcely twenty miles from each other, had contrived, by their artificial regulations, to reduce their commerce with each other to a mere nullity." Every member speaking on this occa- sion agreed in the general sentiments favorable to unrestricted intercourse, which had thus been advanced; one of them lemarking, at the conclusion of the debate, that " the principles of free trade, which he was happy to see so fully recognized, were of the utmost consequence; for, though, in the pres- ent circumstances of the country, a free trade was unattainable, yet their task hereafter was to approximate to it. Considering the prejudices and in- terests which were opposed to the recog- nition of that principle, it was no small indication of the firmness and liberal ity of government to have so fully con- ceded it." Sir, we have seen, in the course of this discussion, that several gentli'men have expressed their high admiration of the silk manufacture of England. Its commendation was begun, I think, by the honorable member from Vermont, who sits near me, who thinks that that alone gives conclusive evidence of the benefits produced l)y attention to manu- factures, inasmuch as it is a great source of wealth to the nation, and has amply repaid all the cost of its protection. Mr. Speaker's approbation of this part of the English example was still warmer. Now, Sir, it does so happen, that both these gentlemen differ very widely on this point from the opinions entertained in England, by persons of the first rank, both as to knowledge and power. In the debate to which I have already referred, the proposer of the motion urged the expediency of providing for the admission of the silks of France into England. " He was aware," he said, " that there was a poor and in- dustrious body of manufacturers, whose, interests must suffer by such an ar- rangement; and therefore he felt that. it would be the duty of Parliament to- provide for the present generation by a. lai-ge Parliamentary grant. It was con- formable to every principle of .sound justice to do so, when the interests of a. particular class were sacrificed to the good of the whole." In answer to these observations. Lord Liverpool said that, with reference to several branches of manufactures, time, and the change of circumstances, had rendered the sys- tem of protecting duties merely nom- inal; and that, in his opinion, if all the protecting laws which regarded both the woollen and cotton manufactures were to be repealed, no injurious effects would thereby be occasioned. " But," he observes, " with respect to silk, thai 88 THE TARIFF. manufacture in this kingdom is so com- pletely artificial, that any attempt to introduce the principles of free trade with reference to it might put an end to it altogether. I allow that the silk manufacture is not natural to this coun- try. / wish we had never had a silk manufactory. I allow that it is natural to France; I allow that it might have been better, had each country adhered exclusively to that manufacture in which each is superior; and had the silks of France been exchanged for British cottons. But I must look at things as they are ; and when I consider the extent of capital, and the immense population, consisting, I believe, of about fifty thousand persons, engaged in our silk manufacture, I can only say, that one of the few points in which I totally disagree with the proposer of the motion is the expediency, under exist- ing circumstances, of holding out any idea that it would be possible to re- linquish the silk manufacture, and to provide for those who live by it, by Parliamentary enactment. Whatever objections there may be to the continu- ance of the protecting system, I repeat, that it is impossible altogether to relin- quish it. I may regret that the system was ever commenced; but as I cannot recall that act, I must submit to the in- convenience by which it is attended, rather than expose the country to evils of greater magnitude." Let it be re- membered. Sir, that these are not the sentiments of a theorist, nor the fancies of speculation ; but the operative opin- ions of the first minister of England, acknowledged to be one of the ablest and most practical statesmen of his country. Cientlemen could have hardly been moro unfortunate than in the selection of the silk manufacture in England as an example of the beneficial effects of that pystem which they would recom- mend. It is, in the language which I have quoted, completely artificial. It lias been sustained by I know not how many laws, breaking in upon the plain- est princijiles of general expediency. At the last session of rarliament, tlie manufacturers petitioned for the repeal of three or four of these statutes, com- plaining of the vexatious restrictions which they impose on the wages of labor; setting forth, that a great variety of orders has from time to time been issued by magistrates under the au- thority of these laws, interfering in an oppressive manner with the minutest details of the manufacture, — such as limiting the number of threads to an inch, restricting the widths of many sorts of work, and determining the quantity of labor not to be exceeded without extra wages ; that by the oper- ation of these laws, the rate of wages, instead of being left to the recognized principles of regulation, has been arbi- trarily fixed by persons whose ignorance renders them incompetent to a just de- cision; that masters are compelled by law to pay an equal price for all work, whether well or ill performed ; and that they are wholly prevented from using improved machinery, it being ordered, that work, in the weaving of which machinery is employed, shall be paid precisely at the same rate as if done by hand; that these acts have frequently given rise to the most vexatious regula- tions, the unintentional breach of which has subjected manufacturers to ruinous penalties; and that the introduction of all machinery being prevented, by which labor might be cheapened, and the manu • facturers being compelled to pay at a fixed price, under all circumstances, they are unable to afford emplojiuent to their workmen, in times of stagnation of trade, and are compelled to stop their looms. And finally, they complain that, notwithstanding these gi'ievances under which they labor, while carrying on their manufacture in London, tlie law still prohibits them, while they continue to reside there, from emjiloying any portion of their capital in the same business in any other part of the kingdom, where it might be more beneficially conducted. Now, Sir, absurd as tliese laws must appear to be to every man, the attempt to repeal them did not, as far as I recol- lect, altogether succeed. The weavers were too numerous, theu interests too THE TARIFF. S^ great, or their prejudices too strong; and this notable instance of protection and monopoly still exists, to be lamented in England with as much sincerity as it seems to be atlmired here. In order further to show the prevail- ing sentiment of the English govern- ment, I would refer to a report of a select committee of the House of Com- mons, at the head of which was the Vice-President of the Board of Trade (.Mr. Wallace), in July, 1820. "The time," say that committee, " w'hen monopolies could be successfully sup- ported, or would be patiently endured, either in respect to subjects against sub- jects, or particular countries against the rest of the world, seems to have passed away. Commerce, to continue undis- tm-bed and secure, must be, as it was intended to be, a source of reciprocal amity between nations, and an inter- change of productions to promote the industiT, the wealth, and the happiness of mankhid." In moving for the re- appointment of the committee in Feb- ruary, 1823, the same gentleman said: " AVe must also get rid of that feeling of appropriation which exliibited itself in a disposition to produce every thing necessary for our own consumption, and to render ourselves independent of the world. No notion could be more absm"d or mischievous; it led, even in peace, to an animosity and rancor greater than existed in time of war. Undoubtedly there would be great prejudices to com- bat, both in this country and elsewhere, in the attemj^t to remove the difficulties which are most obnoxious. It would be impossible to forget the attention which was in some respects due to the present system of protections, although that attention ought certainly not to be can ied beyond the absolute necessity of the case." And in a second report of the committee, drawn by the same gentleman, in that part of it which pro- poses a diminution of duties on timber from the North of Europe, and the policy of giving a legislative preference to the importation of such timber in the log, and a discouragement of the impor- tation of deals, it is stated that the com- mittee reject this policy, because, among otiier reasons, " it is founded on a prin ciple of exclusion, which they are most averse to see brought into operation, in any new in.ftnnce, without the warrant of some evident and great political ex- pediency." And on many subsequent occasions the same gentleman has taken occasion to observe, that he ditfered from those who thought that manufac- tures could not flourish without restric- tions on trade; that old prejudices of that sort were dying away, and that inore liberal and just sentiments were taking their place. These sentiments appear to have been followed by important legal provisions, calculated to remove restrictions aud prohibitions where they were most se- verely felt; that is to say, in several branches of navigation and trade. They have relaxed their colonial system, they have opened the ports of their islands, and have done away the restriction which limited the trade of the colony to the mother country. Colonial products can now be carried directly from the islands to any part of Europe ; and it may not be improbable, considering our own high duties on spirits, that that article may be exchanged hereafter by the English West India colonies directly for the tim ber and deals of the Baltic. It may be added, that Mr. Lowe, whom the gentle- man has cited, says, that nobody sup- poses that the three great staples of English manufactures, cotton, woollen, and hardware, are benefited by any existing protecting duties ; and that one object of all these protecting laws is usually overlooked, and that is, that they have been intended to reconcile the various interests to taxation; the corn law, for example, being designed aa some equivalent to the agricultural in- terest for the burden of tithes and of poor-rates. In fine. Sir, I think it is clear, that, if we now- embrace the system of prohi- bitions and restrictions, we shall show an affection for what others have dis- carded, and be attempting to ornament ourselves with cast-off apparel. Sir, I should not have gone into thia 90 THE TARIFF. prolix detail of opinions from any con- sideration of tlieir special importance on the present occasion; but having hap- pened to state that such -was the actual o] inion of the government of England ai the present time, and the accuracy of this representation having been so con- fidently denied, I have chosen to put the matter beyond doubt or cavil, although at the expense of these tedious citations. I shall have occasion hereafter to refer more particularly to sundry recent Brit- ish enactments, by way of showing the diligence and spirit with which that government strives to sustain its navi- gating interest, by opening the widest possible range to the enterprise of indi- vidual adventurers. I repeat, that I have not alluded to these examples of a foreign state as being fit to control our own policy. In the general principle, I acquiesce. Protection, when carried to the point which is now recommended, that is, to entire prohibition, seems to me destructive of all commercial inter- course between nations. AVe are urged to adopt the system upon general prin- ciples; and what would be the conse- quence of the universal application of such a general principle, but that nations would abstain entirely from all inter- course with one another? I do not admit the general principle; on the con- trary, I think freedom of trade to be the general principle, and restriction the exception. And it is for every state, taking into view its own condition, to judge of the propriety, in any case, of making an exception, constantly pre- ferring, as I think all wi?e governments will, not to depart without urgent reason from the general rule. There i- another point in the existing policy of England to which I would most earnestly invite the attention of the committee; I mean the warehouse system, or what we usually call the system of drawback. Very great preju- dices appear to me to exist with us on that subject. We seem averse to the extension of Uie principle. The V.ug- lish government, on the contrary, appear to have carried it to the extreme of lib- erality. They liave arrived, however, at their present opinions and present prac- tice by slow degrees. The transit system was commenced about the year ISQ'd, but the first law was partial and limited. It admitted the importation of raw materials for exportation, but it ex- cluded almost every sort of manufac- tured goods. This was done for the same reason that we propose to prevent the transit of Canadian wheat through the United States, the fear of aiding the competition of the foreign article with our own in foreign markets. Better reflection or more experience has in- duced them to abandon that mode of reasoning, and to consider all such means of influencing foreign markets as nugatorj'; since, in the present active and enlightened state of the world, nations will supply themselves from the best sources, and the true policy of all producers, whether of raw materials or of manufactured articles, is, not vainly to endeavor to keep other vendors out of the market, but to conquer them in it by the quality and the cheapness of their articles. The present policy of England, therefore, is to allure the importation of commodities into England, there to be deposited in English warehouses, thence to be exported in assorted cargoes, and thus enabling her to carry on a general export trade to all quarters of the globe. Articles of all kinds, with the single exception of tea, may be brought into England, from any part of the world, in foreign as well as British shij's, there warehoused, and again exported, at the pleasure of the owner, without the pay- ment of any duty or government charge whatever. While I am upon this subject, I would take notice also of the recent proposi- tion in the English Parliament to abol- ish the tax on imported wool ; and it is observable that those who support this proposition give the same reasons that have been offered here, within the last week, against the duty which we projiose on the same article. They say that their manufacturers require a cheap and coarse wool, for the supply of the Mediterranean and Levant trade, and that, without a more free admission of the wool of the THE TARIFF. 91 Continent, that trade will all r;iil into the hands of the Germans and Italians, who will carry it on through Leghorn and Trieste. "While there is this duty on foreign wool to protect the wool-giowers of England, there is, on the other hand, a prohibition on the exportation of the native article in aid of the manufac- turers. The opinion seems to be gain- ing strength, that the true policy is to abolish both. La«s have long existed in England preventing the emigration of artisans and the exportation of machinery; but the policy of these, also, has become doubted, and an inquiry has been insti- tuted in Parliament into the expediency of repealing them. As to the emigra- tion of artisans, say those who disapprove the laws, if that were desirable, no law could effect it ; and as to the exportation of machinery, let us make it and export it as we would any other commodity. If France is determined to spin and weave her owni cotton, let us, if we may, still have the benefit of furnishing the ma- chinery. I have stated these things. Sir, to show what seems to be the general tone of thinking and reasoning on these subjects in that country, the example of which has been so much pressed upon us. AMiether the present policy of England be right or wrong, wise or unwise, it cannot, as it seems clearly to me, be quoted as an authority for carrying fur- ther the restrictive and exclusive sys- tem, either iu regard to manufactm-es or trade. To re-establish a sound cur- rency, to aaeet at once the shock, tre- mendous as it was, of the fall of prices, to enlarge her capacity for foreign trade, to ojaen wide the field of individual en- terprise and competition, and to say plainly and Jistinctly that the country must relieve itself from tlie embarrass- ments which it felt, by economy, fru- gality', and renewed efforts of entei-prise, — these appear to be the general outline of the policy which England has pur- sued. !Mt. Chairaxan , I wUl now proceed to say a few words upon a topic, but for the introduction of which into this de- bate I should not have given the com- mittee on this occasion the trouble of hearing me. Some days ago, I believe it was when we were settling the con- troversy between the oil-merchants ar,d the tallow-chandlers, the balance of trade made its appearance in debate, and I must confess. Sir, that I spoke of it, or rather spoke to it, somewhat freely and irreverently. I believe I used the hard names which have been imputed to me, and I did it simply for the purpose ol laying the spectre, and driving it back to its tomb. Certainly, Sir, when I called the old notion on this subject nonsense, I did not suppose that T should offend any one, unless the dead sliould happen to hear me. All the living gen- eration, I took it for granted, would think the term very properly applied. In this, however, I was mistaken. The dead and the living rise up together to call me to account, and I must defend myself as well as I am able. Let us inquire, then, Sir, what is meant by an unfavorable balance of trade, and what the argument is, drawn from that source. By an unfavorable balance of trade, I understand, is meant that state of things in which importation exceeds exportation. To apply it to our own case, if the value of goods imported exceed the value of those exported, then the balance of trade is said to be against us, inasmuch as we have run in debt to the amount of this difference. There- fore it is said, that, if a nation continue long in a commerce like this, it must be rendered absolutely bankrupt. It is in the condition of a man that buys more than he sells; and how can such a traffic be maintained without ruin? Xow, Sir, the whole fallacy of this argimaent con- sists in supposing, that, whenever tlie value of imports exceeds that of ex- ports, a debt is necessarily created to the extent of the difference, whereas, ordinarily, the import is no more than the result of the export, augmented in value by the labor of transportation. The excess of imports over exports, in truth, usually shows the gains, not the losses, of trade; or. in a country' that 92 THE TARIFF. not only buys and sells goods, but em- ploys ships in carn-ing goods also, it shows the profits of commerce, and the earnings of navigation. Nothing is more certain than that, in the usual course of things, and taking a series of years to- gether, tlie value of our imports is the aggregate of our exports and our freights. K the value of commodities imported in a given instance did not ex- ceed the value of the outward cargo, with which they were purchased, then it •would be clear to every man's common sense, that the voyage had not been profitable. If such commodities fell far sliort in value of the cost of the outward cargo , then tlie voyage would be a veiy los- ing one ; and yet it would present exactly that state of tilings, which, according to the notion of a balance of trade, can alone indicate a prosperous commerce. On the other hand, if the return cargo were found to be worth much more than the outward cargo, while the merchant, having paid for the goods exported, and all the expenses of tlie voyage, finds a handsome sum yet in his hands, which he calls profits, the balance of trade is still against him, and, whatever he may think of it, he is in a very bad way. Although one individual or all individ- uals gain, the nation loses; while all its citizens grow ricli, the country grows poor. This is the doctrine of the bal- ance of trade. Allow me. Sir, to give an instance tending to show how unaccountably in- dividuals deceive themselves, and im- agine themselves to be somewhat rap- idly mending their condition, while they ought to be persuaded that, by that in- fallible standard, the balance of trade, thsy are on the high road to ruin. Some yea's ago, in better times than the pres- ent, a ship left one of the towns of Xew England with 70,000 specie dollars. She proceeded to Mocha, on the Red Sea, and thara laid out these dollars in coffee, drugs, spices, and other articles procured in that market. With this new cargo she proceeiled to Europe ; two thirds of it wore sold in Holland for §130,000, which tlie ship brought back, and placed in the same bank from the vaults of which she had taken her original outfit. The other third was .sent to the ports ol the Mediterranean, and produced a re- turn of §25,000 in specie, and 815.000 in Italian merchandise. These sums to- gether make 8170,000 imported, which is 8100,000 more than was exported, and is therefore proof of an unfavorable bal- ance of trade, to that amount, in this adventure. We should find no great difficulty. Sir, in paying off our bal- ances, if this were the nature of them all. The truth is, Mr. Chairman, that all these obsolete and exploded notions had their origin in veiy mistaken ideas of the true nature of commerce. Commerce is not a gambling among nations for a stake, to be w'on by some and lost by others. It has not the tendency neces- sarily to impoverish one of the parties to it, while it enriches the other; all parties gain, all parties make profits, ali parties grow rich, by the operations ol just and liberal commerce. If the world had but one clime and but one soil; if all men had the same wants and the same means, on the spot of their exist- ence, to gratify those wants, — then, in- deed, what one obtained from the other by exchange would injure one party in the same degree that it benefited the other; then, indeed, there would be some foundation for the balance of trade. But Providence has disposed our lot much more kindly. We inhabit a various earth. We have reciprocal wants, and reciprocal means for gi-atifying one another's wants. This is the true ori- gin of commerce, which is nothing more than an exchange of equivalents, and, from the rude barter of its primitive state, to the refined and complex condi- tion in which we see it, its principle is uniformly the same, its only object being, in every stage, to produce that exchange of commodities between individuals and between nations which shall conduce to the advantage and to the happiness of both. Commerce between nations has the same essential character as com- merce between individuals, or between parts of the same nation. Cannot two individuals make an interchange of com- THE TARIFF. 93 niodities which shall prove beneficial to both, or ill which the balance of trade shall be in favor of botli? If not, the tailor and the shoemaker, the farmer and the smith, have hitherto very much misunderstood their own interests. And with reuard to the internal trade of a country, in which the same rule would apply as between nations, do we ever speak of such an intercourse as prejudi- cial to one side because it is useful to the other? Do we ever hear that, be- cause the intercourse between New York and Albany is advantageous to one of those places, it must therefore be ruin- ous to the other? May I be allowed. Sir, to read a pas- sage on this subject from the obsen^a- tious of a gentleman, in my opinion one of the most clear and sensible writers and speakers of the age upon subjects of this sort? ^ "There is no political question on which the prevalence of false principles is so general, as in what re- lates to the nature of commerce and to the pretended balance of trade; and there are few which have led to a greater nmnber of practical mistakes, attended with consequences extensively prejudicial to the hajjpiness of mankind. In this country, our Parliamentary pro- ceedings, our public documents, and the works of several able and popular writers, have combined to propagate the impres- sion, that we are indebted for much of cm" riches to what is called the balance of trade." "Our true policy would surely be to profess, as the object and guide of om- commercial system, that which every man who has studied the subject must know to be the true prin- ciple of connnerce, the interchange of reciprocal and equivalent benefit. We may rest assured that it is not in the nature of commerce to enrich one party at the expense of the other. This is a purpose at which, if it were practicable, we ought not to aim; and which, if we aimed at, we could not accomplish." These remarks, I believe, Sir, were writ- ten some ten or twelve years ago. They are in perfect accordance with the opin- 1 Mr Huskisson, President of the English Board 3' Trade. ions advanced in more elaborate treatises, and now that the world has returned to a state of peace, and commerce has re sumed its natural channels, and dilferent nations are enjoying, or seeking to enjoy, their respective portions of it, all see the justness of these ideas, — all see, that, in this day of knowledge and of pea^e, there can be no commerce between na- tions but that which shall benefit all who are parties to it. If it were necessaiy, ^Ir. Chairman, I might ask the attention of the com- mittee to refer to a document before us, on this subject of the balance of trade. It will be seen by reference to the ac- counts, that, in the course of the last year, our total export to Holland ex- ceeded two millions and a half ; our total import from the same country was but seven hundred thousand dollars. Xow, can any man be wild enough to make any inference from this as to the gain or loss of our trade with Holland for that year? Our trade w'ith Russia for the same year produced a balance the other way, our import being two millions, and our export but half a million. But this has no more tendency to show the Rus- sian trade a losing trade, than the other statement has to show that the Dutch trade has been a gainful one. Neither of them, by itself, proves any thing. Springing out of this notion of a balance of trade, there is another idea, which has been much dwelt upon in the course of this debate; that is, that we ought not to buy of nations who do not buy of us; for example, that the Russian trade is a trade disadvantageous to the country, and ought to be discom-aged, because, in the ports of Russia, we buy more than we sell. Now allow me to observe, in the first place. Sir, that we have no account showing how much we do sell in the i^orts of Russia Our oflicial returns show us only what is the amount of our du'ect trade with her ports. But then we aU know that the proceeds of another portion of our ex- ports go to the same market, though in- directly. We send our own products, for example, to Cuba, or to Brazil; we there exchange them for the sugar and 94 THE TARIFF. the coffee of those countries, and these articles we carrj' to St. Petersburg, and there sell them. Again ; our exports to Holland and Hamburg are connected directly or indirectly with our imports from Russia. AV'liut diit'ereuce does it make, in sense or rea.son, whether a cargo of iron be bought at St. Peters- burg, by the exchange of a cargo of tobacco, or whether the tobacco has been sold on the way, in a better market, in a port of Holland, the money remitted to England, and the iron paid for by a bill on London? There might indeed have been an augmented freight, there might have been some saving of com- missions, if tobacco had been in brisk demand in the Russian market. But still there is nothing to show that the whole voyage may not have been highly profitable. That depends upon the origi- nal cost of the article here, the amount of freight and insurance to Holland, the price obtained there, the rate of ex- change between Holland and England, the expense, then, of proceeding to St. Petersburg, the price of iron there, the rate of exchange between that place and England, the amount of freight and in- Burance at home, and, finally, the value of the iron when brought to our own market. These are the calculations which determine the fortune of the ad- venture; and nothing can be judged of it, one way or tlie other, by the relative state of our imports or exports with Holland, England, or Russia. I would not be understood to deny, that it may often be our interest to cul- tivate a trade with countries that require most of such commodities as we can furnish, and which are capable also of directly suj)plying our own wants. This is the original and the simplest form of all counnerce, and is no doubt highly beneficial. Some countries are so situ- ated, that conunerce, in this original form, or something near it, may be all that they can, without considerable in- convenience, carry on. Our trade, for examjile, with Madeira and the Western Islands has been useful to the country, as furnishing a demand for some portion of our agricultural products, which prob- ably could not have been bought had we not received their products in return. Countries situated still farther from the gi'eat marts and highways of the com- mercial world may afford still strongei instances of the necessity and utility of conducting commerce on the original principle of barter, without much assist- ance from the operations of credit and exchange. All I would be understood to say is, that it by no means follows that we can carry on nothing but a los- ing trade with a country from which we receive more of her products than she receives of ours. Since I was supposed, the other day, in speaking upon tiiis sub- ject, to advance opinions which not only this country ouglit to reject, but which also other countries, and those the most distinguished for skiU and success in commercial intercourse, do reject, 1 will ask leave to refer again to the discussion which I first mentioned in the English Parliament, relative to the foreign trade of that country. " With regard,'* says the mover 1 of the proposition, " to the argument employed against renewing our intercourse with the North of Eu- rope, namely, that those who supplied us with timber from that quarter would not receive British manufactures in re- turn, it appeared to him futile and un- grounded. K they did not send direct for our manufactures at home, they would send for them to Leipsic and other fairs of Germany. Were not the Russian and Polish merchants purchas- ers there to a great amount? But he would never admit the principle, that a trade was not profitable because we were obliged to carry it on with the precious metals, or that we ought to renounce it, because our manid!actures were not re- ceived by the foreign nation in returu for its produce, ^^'hatever we received nmst be paid for in the produce of our land and labor, directly or circuitously, and he was glad to have the noble Earl's - marked concurrence in this prin- ciple." Referring ourselves again. Sir, to the analogies of common life, no one would 1 The Marquess of Lansdon'iie. 2 Lord Liverpool. THE TARIFF. 95 nay that a farmer or a mechanic should buy only where lie can do so by the ex- change of his own produce, or of bis own manufacture. Such exchange may be often convenient; and, on tlie other hand, the cash purchase may be often more convenient. It is the same in the intercourse of nations. Indeed, Mr. S])eaker has placed this argument on Aerj' clear grounds. It was said, in the early part of the debate, tliat, if we cease to import English cotton fabrics, England will no longer contiime to pur- chase our cotton. To this Mr. Speaker replied, with great force and justice, that, as she must have cotton in large quantities, she will buy the article where she can find it best and cheapest; and that it would be quite ridiculous in her, manufacturing as she still would be, for tier own vast consumption and tlie con- eumption of millions in other countries, to reject our uplands because we had learned to manufacture a part of them for ourselves. Would it not be equally ridiculous in us, if the commodities of Russia were both cheaper and better Ruited to our wants than coidd be found elsewhere, to abstain from commerce with her, because she will not receive in return other commodities which we have to sell, but which she has no occasion to buy? Intimately connected. Sir, with this topic, is another which has been brought into the debate ; I mean the evil so much complained of, the exportation of specie. "We liear gentlemen imputing the loss of market at home to a want of money, and this want of money to the exportation of the precious metals. We hear the India and China trade denounced, as a com- merce conducted on our side, in a great measure, with gold and silver. These opinions. Sir, are clearly void of all just foundation, and we cannot too soon get rid of them. There are no shallower reasoners than those political and com- mercial writers who would represent it to be the only true and gainful end of commerce, to accumulate tlie precious metals. These are articles of use, and articles of merchandise, with this addi- tional circumstance belonging to them, that they are made, by the general con- sent of nations, the standard by which the value of all other meixhandist is to be estimated. In regard to weiglus and measiu'es, something drawn from exter- nal nature is made a common standard, for the purposes of general convenience; and this is precisely the office performed by the precious metals, in addition to those uses to which, as metals, they are capable of being applied. There may be of these too much or too little in & country at a particular time, as there may be of any other articles. When the market is overstocked with them, as it oft(!n is, their exportation becomes as proper and as useful as that of other commodities, under similar circumstan- ces. AVe need no more repine, when the dollars which have been brought here from South America are despatched to other countries, than when coffee and sugar take the same direction. We often deceive ourselves, by attributing to a scarcity of money that which is the result of other causes. In the course of this debate, the honorable member from Pennsylvania ^ has represented the coun- try as full of every thing but money. But this I take to be a mistake. The agricultural products, so abundant in Pennsylvania, will not, he says, sell for money ; but they will sell for money as quick as for any other article which haj)- pens to be in demand. They will sell for money, for example, as easily as for coffee or for tea, at the prices which properly belong to those articles. The mistake lies in imputing that to want of money which arises from want of demand. Men do not buy wheat be- cause they have money, but because they want wheat. To decide whether money be plenty or not, that is, whether there be a large portion of cajiital un- employed or not, when the currency cf a country is metallic, we must look, not only to the prices of commodities, but also to the rate of interest. A low rate of interest, a facility of obtaining money on loans, a disposition to invest in per- manent stocks, all of which are proofs that money is plenty, may neveilheless 1 Mr. Tod. 9G THE TARIFF. often denote a state rot of the highest prosperity. They may, and often do, show a want of eniploynieut for capital; and tlie accumulation of specie shows the same thing. We have no occasion for the precious metals as money, except for the purposes of circulation, or rather of sustaining a safe paper circulation. And whenever there is a prospect of a profitaVile investment abroad, all the gold and silver, except what these pui- poses require, will be exported. For the same reason, if a demand exist abroad for sugar and coffee, whatever amount of those articles might exist m the country, beyond the wants of its own consumption, would be sent abroad to meet that demand. Besides, Sir, how should it ever occur to anybody, that we should continue to export gold and silver, if we did not continue to import them also ? If a vessel take our own products to the Havana, or elsewhere, exchange them for dollars, proceed to Cliina, exchange them for silks and teas, bring these last to the poi-ts of the Mediterranean, sell them there for dollars, and return to the United States, — this would be a voyage resulting in the importation of the pre- cious metals. But if she had returned from Cuba, and the dollars obtained tliere had been shipped direct from the United States to China, the China goods sold in Holland, and the proceeds brought home in the hemp and iron of Russia, this would be a voyage in which they were exported. Yet everybody sees that both might be equally beneficial to tlie individual and to the public. I believe, Sir, that, in point of fact, we have en- joyed great benefit in our trade with India and China, from the liberty of going from place to ])lace all over the world, without being obliged in the meim time to return home, a liberty not hei'etofore enjoyed by the private traders of England, in regard to India and China. Suppose the American ship to be at Brazil, for example; she could proceed with her dollars direct to India, and, in return, could distribute lier cargo in all tlie various j^orts of Europe or America; while an English ship, if a private trader, being at Brazil, must first return to England, and then could only i)roceed in the direct line from England to India. This advantage our countrjT^nen have not been backwaid to improve; and in the debate to which I have already so often referred, it was stated, not without some complaint of the inconvenience of exclusion, and the natural sluggisliness of monopoly, that American ships were at that moment fitting out in the Thames, to supply France, Holland, and other countries on the Continent, with tea; while the East India Company would not do this of themselves, nor allow any of their fellow-countrpnen to do it for them. There is yet another subject, Mr. Chairman, upon which I would wish to say something, if I might presume upon the continued patience of the commit- tee. We hear sometimes in the House, and continually out of it, of the rate of exchange, as being one proof that we are on the downward road to ruin. Mr. Speaker himself has adverted to that topic, and I am afraid that his author- ity may give credit to opinions clearly imfounded, and which lead to very false and erroneous conclusions. Sir, let us see what the facts are. Exchange on England has recently risen one or one and a half per cent, partly owing, per- haps, to the introduction of this bill into Congress. Before this recent rise, and for the last six months, I understand its average ma)' have been about seven and a half per cent advance. Now, supposing this to be the real, and not merely, as it is, the nominal, par of ex- change between us and England, wiiat would it prove? Nothing, except that funds were wanted by American citi- zens in England for commercial opera- tions, to be carried on either in England or elsewhere. It would not necessarily show that we were indebted to England ; for, if we liad occasion to pay debts in Russia or Holland, funds in England would naturally enough be required for such a purpose. Even if it did prove that a balance was due England at the moment, it would have no tendency to THE TARIFF. 97 explain to us whether our commei :e with Enc^land had been profitable or unprof- itable. But it is not true, in point of fact, tliat the real price of exchange is seven and a half per cent advance, nor, in- deed, that there is at the present mo- ment any advance at all. That is to say, it is not true that merchants -will give such an advance, or any advance, for money in England, beyond what they would give for the same amount, in the same curi'ency, here. It will strike every one who reflects upon it, that, if there were a real difference of seven and a half per cent, money would be imme- diately shipped to England; because the expense of transportation would be far less than that difference. Or commodi- ties of trade would be shipped to Eu- rope, and the proceeds remitted to Eng- land. If it could so happen, that American mei'chants should be willing to pay ten per cent premium for money in England, or, in other words, that a real difference to that amount in the exchange should exist, its effects would be immediately seen in new shipments of our own commodities to Europe, be- cause this state of things would create new motives. A cargo of tobacco, for example, might sell at Amsterdam for the same price as before: but if its pro- ceeds, when remitted to London, were advanced, as they would be in such case, ten per cent by the state of exchange, this would be so much added to the price, and would operate therefore as a motive for the exportation; and in this way na- tional balances are, and always will be, adjusted. To form any accurate idea of the true state of exchange between two countries, we must look at their currencies, and compare the quantities of gold and silver which they may respectively represent. This usually explains the state of the exchanges; and this will satisfactorily account for the apparent advance now existing on bills drawn on England. The English standard of value is gold ; with us that office is performed by gold, and by silver also, at a fixed relation to each other. But our estimate of silver is rather higher, in proportion to gold, than most nations give it; it is higher, especially, than in England, at the pres- ent moment. The consequence is, that silver, which remains a legal currency with us, stays here, while the gold has gone abroad ; vei'ifying the universal truth, that, if two currencies be allowed to exist, of different values, that which is cheapest w'ill fill up the whole cir- culation. For as much gold as will suffice to pay here a debt of a given amount, we can buy in England more silver than would be necessaiy to pay the same debt here; and from this dif- ference in the value of silver arises wholly or in a great measure the pres- ent apparent difference in exchange. Spanish dollars sell now in England for four shillings and nine pence sterling per oiuice, ecjual to one dollar and six cents. By our standard the same ounce is worth one dollar and sixteen cents, being a difference of about nine per cent. The true par of exchange, there- fore, is nine per cent. If a merchant here jiay one hundred Spanish dollars for a bill on England, at nominal par, in sterling money, that is for a bill of £22 10.-.'., the proceeds of this bill, when paid in England in the legal currency, will there purchase, at the present price of silver, one hundred and nine Spanish dollars. Therefore, if the nominal ad- vance on English bills do not exceed nine per cent, the real exchange is not against this country; in other words, it does not show that there is any pressing or particular occasion for the remittance of funds to England. As little can be inferred from the occasional transfer of United States stock to England. Considering the in- terest paid on om* stocks, the entire stability of our credit, and the accumu- lation of capital in England, it is not at aU wonderful that investments should occasionally be made in om- funds. As a sort of comitervailing fact, it may bo stated that English stocks are now actu- ally held in this country, though proba- bly not to any considerable amount. I will now proceed, Sir, to state soma 98 THE TARIFF. objections of a more general nature to the oourse of Mr. Speaker's observations. He seems to me to argue the question as if all domestic industry were con- fined to the production of manufactured articles; as if the employment of our own capital and our own labor, in the occupations of commerce and navigation, were not as emi^hatically domestic in- dustry as any other occupation. Some other gentlemen, in the course of the debate, have spoken of the price paid for every foreign manufactured article as so much given for the encouragement of foreign labor, to the prejudice of our own. But is not every such article the product of our own labor as truly as if we had manufactured it ourselves? Our labor has earned it, and paid the price for it. It is so much added to the stock of national wealth. If the commodity were dollars, nobody would doubt the truth of this remark ; and it is precisely as correct in its application to any other commodity as to silver. One man makes a yard of cloth at home ; another raises agricultural products and buys a yard of imported cloth. Both these are equally the earnings of domestic indus- tiy, and the only questions that arise in the case are two: the first is, which is the best mode, under all the circimi- etances, of obtaining the article; the second is, how far this first question is proper to be decided by government, and how far it is proper to be left to individual discretion. There is no foundation for tlie distinction which attributes to certain employments the peculiar appellation of American in- dustiy; and it is, in my judgment, extremely unwise to attempt such dis- criminations. We are asked, "\Miat nations have ever attained eminent prosperity with- out encouraging manufactm-esV I may a.sk, What nation ever reached the like prosperity without promoting foreign trade? I regard these interests as closely connected, and am of opinion that it should be our aim to cause them to flourish together. 1 know it would be very easy to promote manufactures, at lea.'^t for a time, but probably for a short time only, if we might act in dis- regard of other interests. "We could cause a sudden transfer of capital, and a violent change in the pursuits of men. We could exceedingly benefit some classes by these means. But what, then, becomes of the interests of others? The power of collecting revenue by duties on imports, and the habit of the government of collecting almost its whole revenue in that mode, will enable us, without exceeding the bounds of moderation, to give great advantages to those classes of manufactures which we may think most useful to promote at home. "\Miat I object to is the im- moderate use of the power, — exclusions and prohibitions; all of which, as I think, not only interrupt the pursuits of individuals, with great injury to themselves and little or no benefit to the country, but also often divert our own labor, or, as it may veiy proi>erly be called, our own domestic industry, fiom those occupations in which it is well employed and well j>aid, to others in which it will be worse employed and worse paid. For my part, I see very little relief to those who are likely to be deprived of their employments, or who find the prices of the commodities which they need raised, in any of the alterna- tives whicli yir. Speaker has presented. It is nothing to say tliat they may, if they choose, continue to buy the foreign article; the answer is, the price is aug- mented: nor that they may use the domestic article; the price of tliat also is increased. Xor can they sujiply them- selves by tlie substitution of their own fabric. How can the agricultiuist make his o\vn iron? How can the ship-o^vue^ grow his own hemp ? But I have a yet stronger objection to the course of Mr. Speaker's reasoning; which is, that he leaves out of the ca-se all that has been already dene for the protection of manufactiues, and argues the question as if those interests were now for the first time to receive aid from duties on imports. I can hardly express the surprise I feel that Mr Speaker should fall into the common mode of expression used elsewhere, and THE TARIFF 09 ask LE we will give our manufacturers no protection. Sir, look to tlie history of oiu" laws; look to the jiresent state of our laws. Consider tliat our whole revenue, with a trifling exception, is collected at the custom-house, and always has been; and then say what propriety there is in calling on the gov- ernment for protection, a** if no pro- tection had heretofore been afforded. The real question before us, in regard to all the important clauses of the bill, is not whether we will lay duties, but whether we will augment duties. The demand is for something more than exists, and yet it is pressed as if nothing existed. It is wholly forgotten that iron and hemp, for example, already pay a very heavy and bm-densome duty; and, in short, from the general tenor of LIr. Speaker's observations, one would infer that, hitherto, we had rather taxed oiu" own manufactures than fostered them by taxes on those of other countries. "NVe hear of the fatal policy of the tariff of 1816; and yet the law of 1816 was passed avowedly for the benefit of manu- facturers, and, with vei-y few exceptions, imposed on imported articles very great additions of tax; in some important instances, indeed, amounting to a pro- hibition. Sir, on this subject, it becomes us at least to understand the real posture of the question. Let us not suppose that we are beginning the protection of manu- factures, by duties oii imports. "\Miat we are asked to do is, to render those duties much higher, and therefore, in- stead of dealing in general commenda- tions of the benefits of protection, tlie friends of the bill, I tliink, are bound to make out a fair case for each of the manufactures which they propose to benefit. The government has already done much for theu* protection, and it ought to be p'esumed to have done enough, unless it be shown, by the facts and considerations applicable to each, that there is a necessity for doing more. On the general question. Sir, allow me to ask if the doctrine of proliibition, as a general doctrine, be not preposter- ous. Suppose all nations to act upon it; they would be prosperous, then, according to the argument, precisely in tlie proiiortion in which they abolished intercomse witli one another. The less of mutual commerce the better, upon this hj'jiothesis. Protection and encour- agement may be, and doubtless are, sometimes, wise and beneficial, if kept within proper limits; but when carried to an extravagant height, or the point of prohibition, the absurd character of the system manifests itself. Mr. Speaker has refeiTed to the late Emperor Xapo- leou, as having attempted to naturalize the manufacture of cotton in France. He did not cite a more extravagant part of the projects of that ruler, that is, his attempt to naturalize the growth of that plant itself, in France; whereas, we have understood that considerable dis- tricts in the South of France, and in Italy, of rich and productive lands, were at one time withdraw^n from profitable uses, and devoted to raising, at great expense, a little bad cotton. Xor have we been referred to the attempts, under the same system, to make sugar and coffee from common culinary vegetables ; attempts which served to fiU. the print- shops of Europe, and to show us how easy is the transition from what some think sublime to that which aU admit to be ridiculous. The foUy of some of these projects has not been surpassed, nor hardly equalled, unless it be by the philosopher in one of the satires of Swift, who so long labored to extract siuibeams from cucumbers. The poverty and unhappiness of Spain have been attributed to the want of protection to her owni industiy. If by this it be meant that the poverty of Spain is owing to bad government and bad laws, the remark is, in a gi'eat measure, just. But these very laws are bad because they are restrictive, partial, and prohibitory. If proliibition were protection, Sjjaiu woidd seem to have had enough of it. Nothing can exceed the barbarous rigidity of her colonial system, or the folly of her early com- mercial regulations. Unenlightened and bigoted legislation, the multitude of holidays, miserable roads, monojiolies L.cfC. 100 THE TARIFF. on the part of government, restrictive laws, that ought long since to have been abrogated, are generally, and I believe truly, reckoned the principal caiises of the had state of the productive industry of Spain. Any partial improvement in her condition, or increase of her pros- perity, has been, in all cases, the result of relaxation, and the abolition of what was intended for favor and protection. In short, Sir, the general sense of this age sets, with a strong current, in favor of freedom of commercial intercourse, and unrestrained individual action. Men yield up their notions of monopoly and restriction, as they yield up other prejudices, slowly and reluctantly; but they cannot withstand the general tide of opinion. Let me now ask, Sir, what relief this bill proposes to some of those gi-eat and essential interests of the country, the condition of which has been referred to as proof of national distress ; and which condition, although I do not think it makes out a case of distress, yet does indicate depression. And first. Sir, as to our foreign trade. Mr. Speaker has stated that there has been a considerable falling off in the tonnage employed in that trade. This is true, lamentably true. In my opinion, it is one of those occurrences which ought to aiTCst our immediate, our deep, our most earnest attention. "What does this bill propose for its relief ? It proposes nothing but new burdens. It proposes to diminish its employment, and it pro- poses, at the same time, to augment its expense, by subjecting it to heavier tax- ation. Su", there is no interest, in regard to which a stronger case for protection can be made out, than the navigating interest. Whether we look at its present condition, which is admitted to be de- pressed, the number of persons connected with it, and dependent upon it for their daily bread, or its importance to the country in a political point of view, it has claims upon our attention which cannot be surpassed. But what do we propose to do for it? I repeat, Sir, simply to burden and to tax it. By H statement which I have already sub- mitted to the committee, it appears tliat the shipping interest pays, annually, more than half a million of dollars in duties on articles used in the constnic- tion of ships. We propose to add nearly, or quite, fifty per cent to this amount, at the very moment that we appeal to the languishing state of this interest aa a proof of national distress. Let it be remembered that our shipping employed in foreign commerce has, at this mo- ment, not the shadow of government protection. It goes abroad upon the wide sea to make its o\sti way, and earn its own bread, in a professed competition with the whole world. Its resources are its own frugality, its own skill, its ovn\ enterprise. It hopes to succeed, if it shall succeed at all, not by extraordinary aid of government, but by patience, vigi- lance, and toil. This right arm of tlie nation's safety strengthens its own mus- cle by its own efforts, and by unwearied exertion in its own defence becomes strong for the defence of the countiy. Xo one acquainted with this interest can deny that its situation, at this mo- ment, is extremely critical. We have left it hitherto to maintain itself or per- ish; to swim if it can, and to sink if it must. But at this moment of its ap- parent struggle, can we as men, can we as patriots, add another stone to the weight that threatens to carrj' it down V Sir, there is a limit to human power, and to human effort. I know the com- mercial marine of this country can do almost every thing, and bear almost ev- eiy thing. Yet some things are impos- sible to be done, and some burdens may be impossible to be borne ; and as it was the last ounce that broke the back of the camel, so the last tax, although it wore even a small one, may be decisive as to the power of our marine to sustain the coufiict in which it is now engaged with all the commercial nations on the globe. Again, Mr. Chairman, the failures and the bankruptcies which have taken place in our large cities have been mentiuned as proving the little success attending commerce, and its general decline. But this bill has no balm for those wounds. It is very remarkable, that when the THE TARIFF. 101 losses and disasters of certain manufac- turers, those of iron, for instance, are mentioned, it is done for tlie purpose of invoking aid for the distressed. Xot so with the losses and disasters of com- merce; these last are narrated, and not unfrequently much exaggerated, to prove the ruinous nature of the employment, and to show that it ought to be aban- doned, and the capital engaged in it turned to other objects. It has been often said. Sir, that our maniifacturers ha^-e to contend, not only against the natural advantages of those who produce similar articles in foreign countries, but also against the action of foreign governments, who have great political interest in aiding their own manufactures to suppress om-s. But have not these governments as great an interest to cripple om* marine, by pre- venting the gro\\-th of our commerce and navigation ? What is it that makes us the object of the highest respect, or the most suspicious jealousy, to foreign states? "What is it that most enables us to take high relative rank among the nations ? I need not say that this re- sults, more than from any thing else, from that quantity of military power which we can cause to be water-borne, and from that extent of commerce which we are able to mahitain throughout the world. Mr. Chau-man, I am conscious of hav- ing detained the committee much too long with these observations. My apol- ogy for now proceedmg to some remarks upon the particular clauses of the bill is, that, representing a district at once com- mercial and highly manufacturing, and being called upon to vote upon a biU containing provisions so numerous and so various, I am naturally desirous to state as well what I approve, as what I would reject. The first section proposes an aug- mented duty upon woollen manufactures. This, if it were unqualified, woidd no doubt be desirable to those who are en- gaged in that business. I have myself presented a petition from the woollen manufacturers of Massachusetts, pray- ing an augmented ad valorem duty upon imported woollen cloths ; and I am pre- pared to accede to that proposition, to a reasonable extent. But then this bil) proposes, also, a very high duty upon imported wool ; and, as far as I can learn, a majority of the manufacturers are at least extremely doubtful whether, taking these two provisions together, the state of the law is not better for them now than it would be if this bill should pass. It is said, this tax on raw wool will benefit the agriculturist; but I know it to be the opinion of some of the best informed of that class, that it will do them more hurt than good. They fear it will check the manufacturer .. and con- sequently check his demand for their ar- ticle. The argument is, that a certain quantity of coarse wool, cheaper than we can possibly furnish, is necessary to en- able the manufacturer to carry on the general business, and that if this cannot be had, the consequence will be, not a gi-eater, but a less, manufacture of our own wool. I am aware that very in- telligent persons differ upon this point ; but if we may safely infer from that dif- ference of opinion, that the proposed benefit is at least doubtful, it would be prudent perhaps to abstain from the ex- periment. Certain it is, that the same reasoning has been employed, as I have before stated, on the same subject, when a renewed application was made to the English Parliament to repeal the duty on imported wool, I believe scarcely two months ago; those who supported the application pressing urgently the neces- sity of an unrestricted use of the cheap, imported raw material, with a view to supply with coarse cloths the markets of warm climates, such as those of Egj-pt and Turkey, and especially a vast newly created demand in the South American states. As to the manufactures of cotton, it is agreed, I believe, that they are gen- erally successful. It is understood that the present existing duty operates pretty much as a prohibition over those descrip- tions of fabrics to which it applies. The proposed alteration would probably en- able the American manufacturer to com- 102 THE TARIFF. monce competition with higher-priced fahrics; and so, perhaps, would an aug- irentation less than is here proposed. I consiner the cotton manufactxires not only to have reached, but to have passed, the point of competition. 1 regard their success as certain, and their growth as rapid as the most impatient could well expect. If, however, a provision of. the nature of that recommended here were thought necessary, to commence new operations in the same line of manu- facture, I should cheerfidly agree to it, if it were not a,t the cost of sacrificing otlier great interests of the countiy. I need hardly say, that whatever promotes tiie cotton and woollen manufactures promotes most important interests of my constituents. They have a great stake in the success of those establish- ments, and, as far as those manufac- tures are concerned, would be as much benefited by the provisions of this bill as any part of the community. It is ob- viou pears to me, is the true question for our consideration. There is no reason for saying that we will work iron because we have mountains that contain the ore. AVe might for the same reason dig among our rocks for the scattered grains of gold and silver which might be found there. The true inquiry is. Can w^e pro- duce the article in a useful state at the same cost, or nearly at the same cost, or at any reasonable approximation to- wards the same cost, at which we can import it ? Some general estimates of the price and profits of labor, in those counti ies from which we import our iron, might be formed by comparing the reputed products of different mines, and their prices, with the number of hands em- ployed. The mines of Danemora arc said to yield about 4,000 tons, and to employ in the mines twelve hundred workmen. Sujipose this to be worth $50 per ton ; any one will find by com- putation, that the whole product would not pay, in this coxmtry, for one quarter part of the necessary labor. The whole export of Sweden was estimated, a few years ago, at 400,000 ship pounds, or about 54,000 tons Comparing thia 106 THE TARIFP. product with the number of workmen usually supposed to be employed in the mines which produce iron for exporta- tion, the result will not greatly differ from the foregoing. These estimates are general, and might not conduct us to a precise result; but we know, from iiilelligent travellers, and eye-witnesses, that the price of labor in the Swedish m'ues does not exceed seven cents a day.^ The true reason, Sir, why it is not our policy to compel our citizens to manu- facture our own iron, is that they are far better employed. It is an unpro- ductive business, and they are not poor enough to be obliged to follow it. If we had more of poverty, more of mis- ery, and something of servitude, if we had an ignorant, idle, starving popula- tion, we might set up for iron makers against the world. The committee will take notice, Mr. Chairman, that, under our present duty, together with the expense of transpor- tation, our manufactui-ers are able to supply their own immediate neighbor- hood ; and this proves the magnitude of that substantial encom-agement which these two causes concur to give. There is little or no foreign iron, I presume, used in the comity of Lancaster. This is o\\'ing to the heavy expense of land 1 The price of labor in Russia may be pretty well collected from Tooke's " View of the Rus- sian Empire." " Tiie workmen in the mines and tlie founderics are, indeed, all called mas- ter-people; but they distinguish themselves into masters, under-masters, apprentices, delvers, servants, carriers, washers, and sejiarators. In proportion to their ability their wages are regu- lated, which proceed from fifteen to upwards of thirty roubles per annum. The provisions which they receive from the magazines are deducted from this pay." The value of the rouble at that time {179!)) was about twenty- four pence sterling, or forty-live cents of our money. "By the edict of 1799," it is added, "a laborer with a horse shall receive, daily, in Bummer, twenty, and in winter, twelve co- pecks; a laborer without a horse, in summer, ten, in winter, eight copecks." A copeck is the huiulredtk part of a rouble, or about htilf a cent of our money. The price of lalxir may have risen, in some degree, since Ihut })eriod, but prvihably mn much. carriage ; and as we recede farther from the coa.st, the manufacturers are still more completely secured, as to their own immediate market, against the com]>e- tition of the imported article. But what they ask is to be allowed to supply the sea-coast, at such a price as shall be formed by adding to the cost at the mines the expense of land carriage to the sea; and this appears to me most unreasonable. The effect of it would be to compel the consimier to pay the cost of two land transportations; for, in the first place, the price of iron at the inland furnaces will always be found to be at, or not much below, the price of the imported article in the seaport, and the cost of transportation to the neigh- borhood of the furnace; and to enable the home product to hold a competition with the imported in the seaport, the cost of another transportation down- ward, from the furnace to the coast, must be added. Until our means of inland commerce be improved, and the charges of ti'ansportation by that means lessened, it appears to me wholly im- practicable, with such duties as any one woiild think of proposing, to meet the wishes of the manufacturers of this ar- ticle. Suppose we were to add the duty proposed by this bill, although it would benefit the capital invested in works near tlie sea and the navigable rivers, yet the benefit would not extend far in the interior. AVhere, then, are we to stop, or what limit is proposed to us? The freight of iron has been afforded from Sweden to the United States as low as eight dollars per ton. This is not more than the price of fifty miles of land carriage. Stockholm, therefore, for the purpose of this argument, may be considered as within fifty miles of Philadelphia. Now, it is at once a just and a strong view of this ca.se, to con- sider, that there are, within fifty miles of our market, vast multitudes of per- sons who are willing to labor in the ]>ro- duction of this article for us, at the rate of seven cents per day, while we have no labor which will not command, upon the average, at least five or six times that amount. The question is, then. THE TARIFF. 107 fihall we buy this article of these manu- facturers, and suffer our own labor to earn its greater reward, or shall we em- ploy our own labor in a similar manu- facture, and make up to it, by a tax on consumers, the loss which it must neces- sarily sustain. I proceed. Sir, to the article of hemp. Of this we imported last year, in round numbers, 6,000 tons, paying a duty of .|30 a ton, or $180,000 on the whole amount; and this article, it is to be re- membered, is consumed almost entirely in the uses of navigation. The w^hole burden may be said to fall on one in- terest. It is said we can produce this article if we will raise the duties. But why is it not produced now? or why, at least, have we not seen some speci- mens ? for the present is a very high duty, when expenses of importation are added. Hemp was purchased at St. Petersburg, last year, at §101.67 per ton. Charges attending shipment, &c., 814.25. Freight may be stated at ,530 per ton, and our existing duty $30 more. These three last sums, being the charges of transportation, amount to a protec- tion of near seventy-five per cent in favor of the home manufacturer, if there be any such. And we ought to consider, also, that the price of hemp at St. Petersburg is increased by all the expense of transportation from the place of growth to that port; so that probably the whole cost of transporta- tion, from the place of growth to our market, including our duty, is equal to the first cost of the article ; or, in other words, is a protection in favor of our own product of one hundred per cent. And since it is stated that we have great quantities of fine land for the pro- duction of hemp, of which I have no doubt, the question recurs. Why is it not produced ? I speak of the water- rotted hemp, for it is admitted that that which is dew-rotted is not sufficiently good for the requisite purposes. I can- not say whether the cause be in climate, in the process of rotting, or what else, but the fact is certain, that there is no American water-rotted hemp in the market. We are acting, therefore, uj^on an hyiwthesis. Is it not reasonable that those who say that they can produce the article shall at least prove the truth of that allegation, before new taxes are laid on those who use the foreign com- modity ? Suppose this bill passes ; the price of hemp is immediately raised S>14.80 per ton, and this burden fall? immediately on the ship-builder; and no part of it, for the present, will go for the benefit of the American grower, be- cause he has none of the article thai can be used, nor is it expected that much of it will be produced for a considerable time. Still the tax takes effect upon the imported article; and the ship-owners, to enable the Kentucky farmer to re- ceive an additional $11 on his ton of hemp, whenever he may be able to raise and matnifacture it, pay, in the mean time, an equal sum per ton into the treasury on all the imported hemp which they are still obliged to use ; and this is called "protection"! Is this just or fair ? A particular interest is here bur- dened, not only for the benefit of an- other particular interest, but biu'dened also beyond that, for the benefit of the treasury. It is said to be important for the country that this article should be raised in it; then let the country bear the expense, and pay the bounty. If it be for the good of the whole, let the sacrifice be made by the whole, and not by a part. If it be thought useful and necessaiy, from political considerations, to encourage the growth and manufac- ture of hemp, government has abundant means of doing it. It might give a di- rect bounty, and such a measure would, at least, distribute the burden equally; or, as government itself is a great con- sumer of this article, it might stipulate to confine its own piuxhases to the home product, so soon as it should be shown to be of the proper quality. I see no objection to this proceeding, if it be thought to be an object to encourage the production. It might easily, and perhaps properly, be provided by law, that the wavy should be supplied with American hemp, the quality being good, at any price not exceeding, by moie than a given amount, the cuiTent price 108 THE TARIFF. of foreign hemp in our market. Every thing conspires to render some such course preferable to the one now pro- posed. The encouragement in thatvray would be ample, and, if the experiment should succeed, the whole oV>ject would be gamed; and, if it should fail, no con- siderable loss or evil would be felt by any one. I stated, some days ago, and I wish k) renew the statement, what was the amount of the proposed augmentation of the duties on hon and hemp, in the cost of a vessel. Take the case of a common ship of three hundred tons, not coppered, nor copper-fastened. It would stand thus, by the present duties: — 14 J tons of iron, for hull, rigging, and anchors, at S15 per ton, . . 10 tons of hemp, at S30, 40 bolts Russia duck, at ?2, .... 20 bolts Havens duck, at $1.25, . . . On articles of ship-chandlery, cabin furniture, hard-ware, &c., . . . 8217.50 300.00 80.00 25.00 40 00 S662.50 The bill proposes to add, — $7.40 per ton on iron, which will be . $107.30 $14.80 per ton on hemp, equal to . . 148.00 And on duck, by the late amendment of the bill, say 25 per cent, . . 25.00 $280.30 But to the duties on iron and hemp should be added those paid on copper, whenever that article is used. By the statement which I furnished the other day, it a]ipt'ared that the duties received by government on articles used in the construction of a vessel of three hundred and fifty-nine tons, with copper fasten- ings, amounted to .?],()5G. With the augmentations of this bill, they would bo equal to §1,400. Now I cannot but flatter myself, Mr. Chairn^.an, that, before the committee will consent to this new burden upon the shipping interest, it will very delib- erately weigh the probable consequences. I would again urgently solicit its atten- tion to the condition of that interest. We are told that government has pro- tected it, by discriminating duties, and by an exclusive right to the coasting trade. But it would retain the coasting trade by its own natural efforts, in like manner, and with more certainty, than it now retains any portion of foreign trade. The discriminating duties are now abolished, and while they existed, they were nothing more than counter- vailing measures ; not so much designed to give our navigation an advantage over that of other nations, as to put it upon an equality, and we have, accord- ingly, abolished ours, when they have been willing to abolish theirs. Look to the rate of freights. Were they ever lower, or even so low? I ask gentle- men who know, whether the harbor of Charleston, and the river of Savannah, be not crowded with ships seeking em- ployment, and finding none? I would ask the gentlemen from New Orleans, if their magnificent Mississippi does not exhibit, for furlongs, a forest of ma.sts? The condition. Sir, of the ship- ping interest is not that of those who are insisting on high profits, or strug- gling for monopoly; but it is the condi- tion of men content with the smallest earnings, and anxious for their bread. The freight of cotton has formerly been three pence sterling, from Charleston to Liverpool, in time of peace. It is now I know not what, or how many fractions of a penny; I think, however, it is stated at five eighths. The producers, then, of this great staple, are able, by means of this navigation, to send it, for a cent a pound, from their own doors to the best market in the world. Mr. Chairman, I will now only re- mind the committee that, while we are proposing to add new burdens to the shipping interest, a very different line of policy is followed by our great com- mercial and maritime rival. It seems to be announced as the sentiment of the government of England, and undoubt- edly it is its real sentiment, that the fii-st of all manufactures is the manufac- ture of ships. A constant and wakeful attention is paid to this interest, and very important regulations, favorable to it. have been adopted within the last year, some nf which I will beg leave to refer to, with the hope of exciting the I notice, not only of tlie committee, buk THE TARIFF 109 i)f all others who may feel, as I do, a deep interest in this subject. In the first place, a general amendment has taken place in the register acts, introduc- ing many new provisions, and, among others, the following: — A direct mortgage of the interest of a ship is allowed, without subjecting the mortgagee to the responsibility of an owner. The proportion of interest lield by each owner is exhibited in the register, thereby facilitating both sales and mort- gages, and giving a new value to ship- ping among the moneyed classes. Shares, in the ships of copartnerships, may be registered as joint property, and subject to the same rules as other part- nership effects. Ships may be registered in the name of trustees, for the benefit of joint-stock companies. And many other regulations are adopt- ed, with the same general view of ren- dering the mode of holding the property as convenient and as favorable as pos- sible. By another act, British registered ves- sels, of every description, are allowed to enter into the general and the coast- ing trade in the India seas, and may now trade to and from India, with any part of the world except China. By a third, all limitations and restric- tions, as to latitude and longitude, are removed from ships engaged in the Southern whale-fishery. These regula- tions, I presume, have not been made without first obtaining the consent of the East India Company; so true is it found, that real encouragement of enter- prise oftener consists, in our days, in restraining or buying off monopolies and prohibitions, than in imposing oi extending them. The trade with Ireland is turned into a free coasting trade; light duties have been reduced, and various other beneficial arrangements made, and still others pro- posed. I might add, that, in favor of general commerce, and as showing their confidence in the principles of liberal intercourse, the British government lias perfected the warehouse system, and authorized a reciprocity of duties with foreign states, at the discretion of the Privy Council. This, Sir, is the attention which our great rival is paying to these important subjects, and we may assure ourselves that, if we do not cherish a proper sense of our own interests, she will not only beat us, but will deserve to beat us. Sir, I will detain you no longer. There are some parts of this bill which I highly approve; there are others in which I should acquiesce; but those to which I have now stated my objections appear to me so destitute of all justice, so burdensome and so dangerous to that interest which has steadily enriched, gallantly defended, and proudly distin- guished us, that nothing can prevail upon me to give it my support. ^ 1 Since the delivery of this speech, an ar- rival has brought London papers containing the speech of the English Chancellor of the Ex- chequer (Mr. Robinson), on the 2-3d of Febru- ary last, in submitting to Parliament the annual financial statement. Abundant confirmation will be found in that statement of the remarks made in the preceding speech, as to the prevail- ing sentiment, in the English government, on the general subject of prohibitory laws, and on the silk manufacture and the wool tax pai-ticularly. NOTE. This is commonly called Mr. Webster's " Free Trade " speech. It has been found difficult to select one among his many speeches in support of the policy of Pro- tection which would fully represent his views on the subject ; but the reasons for his change of opinion, and for his advocacy of Protection, are fully stated in many of the speeches printed in this volume, deliv- ered after tlie year 1830. Perhaps as good a statement as can be selected from his many speeches on the Tariff, in explana- tion of his change of position as to the need, policy, and duty of protection to 110 THE TARIFF. American manufactures, may be found in liis speech dclivereil in the Senate of the United States, on the 25th and 26th of July, 1846, on tiie Bill " To reduce the Duties on Imports, and for other Purposes." In this speech, he made the followinij frank avow- al of the reasons which induced him to reconsider and reverse his original opinions on the subject : — "But, Sir, before I proceed further with this part of the case, I will take notice of what ap- fiears, latterly, to be an attempt, by the repub- ication of opinions and expressions, ar<^uments and speeches of mine, at an earlier and later period of life, to found airainst me a charge of inconsistency, on this subject of the protective policy of the country. Mr. President, if it be an inconsistency to hold an opinion unon a sub- ject at one time and in one state of circum- stances, and to hold a different oiiinion upon the same subject at another time and in a different state of circumstances, I admit the charge. Nay, Sir, I will go further; and in regard to questions which, from their nature, do not de- pend upon circumstances for their true and just solution, I mean constitutional questions, if it be an inconsistency to hold an opinion to-day, even upon such a question, and fin that same ques- tion to hold a different opinion a quarter of a century afterwards, upon a more comprehensive view of the whole subject, with a more thorough investigation into the original purposes and ob- jects of that Constitution, and especially after a more thorough exposition of those objects and purposes by those who framed it, and have been trusted to' administer it, I should not shrink even from that imputation. I hope I know more of the Constitution of mv country than I did when I was twenty years ofd. I hope I have contemplated its great objects more broadly. I hope I have read with deeper interest the .senti- ments of the great men who framed it. I hope I have studied with more care the condition of the country when the convention assembled to form it. And yet I do not know that I have much to retract or to change on these points. "But, Sir, I am of the opinion of a verj' eminent person, who had occasion, not long since, to speak of this topic in another place. Inconsistencies of opinion, arising from changes 't citcumstances, are often justiliable. But there is one sort of inconsistency which is cul pable. It is the inconsistency between a man'a conviction and his vote; between his conscience and his conduct. No man shall ever charge me with an inconsistency like that. And now. Sir, allow me to say, that I am quite indifferent, or ratiier thankful, to those conductors of the pub- lic press who think they cannot do better than now and then to spread'my poor opinions before the public. " 1 have said many times, and it is true, that, up to the year 1824,' the people of that part of the country- to which I belong, being addicted to commerce, having been successful in com- merce, their capital being very much engaged in commerce, were averse to entering upon a system of manufacturing operations. Every member in Congress from the State of Massa- chusetts, with the exception. I think, of one, voted against the act of 1824. But what were we to do ? Were we not bound, after 1817 and 1824, to consider that the policv of the country was settled, had become settled, as a policv, to protect the domestic industry of the country bv solemn laws V The leading speech i w"hic'h ushered in the act of 1824 was called a speech for the 'American System.' The bill was car- ried principally by the Middle States. Penn- sylvania and New York would have it so ; and what were we to do V Were we to stand aloof from the occupations which others were pursuing around us V Were we to pick clean teeth on a constitutional doubt which a majority in the councils of the nation had overruled? "No, Sir; we had no option. All that was left us was to fall in with the settled policy of the country; because, if any thing can ever settle the policy of the country, or if any thing can ever settle the practical construction of the Constitution of the country, it must be these repeated decisions of Congress, and enactments of successive laws conformable to these decisions. New England, then, did fall in. She went into manufactur- ing operations, not from original choice, but from the necessity of the circumstances in which the legislation of the country had jilaced her. And, for one, I resolved then, and have acted upon the resolution ever since, that, hav- ing compelled the Eastern States to go into these pursuits for a livelihood, the country was bound to fulfil the just expectations which it had inspired." » That of Mr. Clay. THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. AN ARGUMENT MADE IX THE CASE OF GI15B0NS AND OGDEN IN THB SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES, FEBRUARY TERM, 1824. [Tins was an appeal from the Court for the Trial of Impeachments and Correc- tion of Errors of the State of New York. Aaron Ogden filed his bill in the Court of Chancery of that State, against Thomas Gibbons, setting forth the several acts of the legislature thereof, enacted for the pur- pose of securing to Robert R. Livingston and Robert Fulton the exclusive navigation of all the waters within tlie jurisdiction of that State, witii boats moved by fire or steam, for a term of years wliich had not then expired ; and authorizing the Chan- cellor to award an injunction, restraining any person whatever from navigating those waters with boats of that description. The bill stated an assignment from Livingston and Fulton to one John K. Livingston, and from him to the comphiinant, Ogden, of the riglit to navigate the waters between Elizabethtown, and other places in New Jersey, and the city of New York ; and that Gibbons, the defendant below, was in pos- session of two steamboats, called the Stou- dingcr and the Bellona, which were actually employed in running between New York and Elizabethtown, in violation of the ex- clusive privilege conferred on tlie complain- ant, and praying an injunction to restrain the said Gibbons from using the said boats, or any other propelled by fire or steam, in navigating the waters within tlie territory of New York. The injunction having been awarded, the answer of Gibbons was filed, in whicii he stated, that the boats employed by him were duly enrolled and licensed to be em- ployed in carrying on the coasting trade, under the act of Congress, passed tiie 18th of February, 1793, ch. 8, entitled, " An Act for enrolling and licensing shii)s and vessels to be employed in the coasting trade and fisheries, and for regulating the same." And the defendant insisted on his right, in virtue of such licenses, to navigate the waters between Elizabethtown and the city of New York, the said acts of the legisla- ture of the State of New York to the con- trary notwithstanding. At the hearing, the Chancellor perpetuated the injunction, be- ing of the opinion that the said acts were not repugnant to the Constitution and laws of tlie United States, and were valid. This decree was aflSrincd in the Court for the Trial of Impeachments and Correction of Errors, wliich is the highest court of law and equity in tlie State of New York be- fore which the cause could be carried, and it was thereupon carried up to the Supreme Court of the L'nited States by appeal. The following argument was made by Mr. Webster, for the plaintiff in error.] It is admitted, that there is a very re- spectable weight of authority in favor of the decision which is sought to be reversed. The laws in question, I am aware, have been deliberately re-enacted by the legislature of Xew York; and they have also received the sanction, at different times, of all her judicial tribunals, than whicli there are few, if any, in the country, more justly entitled to respect and deference. The disposi- tion of the court will be, undoubtedly, to support, if it can, laws so passed and so sanctioned. I admit, therefore, that it is justly expected of us that we sliould make out a clear case; and unless we do so, we cannot hope for a reversal. It should be remembered, however, that the whole of this branch of power, aa exercised by this court, is a power of revision. The question must be decided by the State courts, and decided in a particular manner, before it can be brought here at all. Such decisions alone give this court jurisdiction; and therefore, while they are to he respected as the judgments of learned judges, they are yet in the condition of all decisions fi-om which the law allows an appeal. 112 THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. It will not be a waste of time to ad- vert to the existing state of the facts connected with the subject of this liti- gation. The use of steamboats on the coasts and in the bays and rivers of the country, has become very general. The intercourse of its different parts essen- tially depends upon this mode of con- veyance and transportation. Rivers and bays, in many cases, form the divisions between States; and thence it is obvious, that, if the States should make regula- tions for the navigation of these waters, and such regulations should be repug- nant and hostile, embarrassment would necessarily be caused to the general intercourse of the community. Such events have actually occurred, and have created the existing state of things. By the law of Xew York, no one can navigate the bay of New York, the Xorth River, the Sound, the lakes, or any of the waters of that State, by steam-ves- sels, without a license from the grantees of New Y'ork, under penalty of forfeit- ure of the vessel. By the law of the neighboring State of Connecticut, no one can enter her waters with a steam- vessel having such license. By the law of Xew Jersey, if any citi- zen of that State shall be restrained, under the Xew Y''ork law, from using steamboats between the ancient shores of New Jersey and New Y'ork, he shall be entitled to an action for damages, in New Jersey, with treble costs against the party who thus restrains or impedes him under the law of New York ! This act of New Jersey is called an act of retortion against the illegal and op- pressive legislation of New Y'ork; and seems to be defended on those grounds of public law which justify reprisals be- tween independent States. It will hardly be contended, that all these acts are consistent with the laws and Constitution of the United States. If there is no power in the general gov- ernment to control this extreme bel- ligerent legislation of the States, the powers of the government are essentially deficient in a most important and inter- esting paiticular. The present coutro- versy respects the earliest of these State laws, those of New Y'ork. On these, this court is now to pronounce; and if they should be declared to be valid and operative, I hope somebody will point out where the State right stops, and on what grounds the acts of other States are to be held inoperative and void. It will be necessary to advert more particularly to the laws of New York, as they are stated in the record. The first was passed March 19th, 1787. By this act, a sole and exclusive right was granted to John Fitch, of making and using every kind of boat or vessel im- pelled by steam, in all creeks, rivers, bays, and waters within the territory and jurisdiction of New York for four- teen years. On the 27th of March, 1798. an act was passed, on the suggestion that Fitch was dead, or had withdrawn from the State without having made any attempt to use his privilege, repealing the grant to him, and conferring similar privileges on Robert R. Livingston, for the term of twenty years, on a suggestion, made by him, that he was possessor of a mode of applying the steam-engine to projiel a boat, on new and advantageous prin- ciples. On the 5th of April, 1803, an- other act was passed, by which it was declared, that the rights and privileges granted to Robert R. Livingston by the last act should be extended to him and Robert Fulton, for twenty years from the passing of the act. Then there is the act of April 11, 1808, purporting to extend the monopoly, in point of time, five years for every additional boat, the whole duration, however, not to exceed thirty years ; and forbidding any and all persons to navigate the waters of the State with any steam boat or vessel, without the license of Livingston and Fulton, under penalty of forfeiture of the boat or vessel. And lastly comes the act of April 9, 1811, for enforcing the provisions of the last-mentioned act, and declaring, that the forfeiture of the boat or vessel found navigating against the provisions of the previous acts shall be deemed to accrue on the day on which such boat or vessel should navigate the THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. 113 waters cf the State; and Lliiit Living- ston and Fulton might immediately have an action for such boat or vessel, in like manner as if they themselves had been dispossessed thereof by force ; and that, on bringing any such suit, the defendant therein should be prohibited, by injunc- tion, from removing the boat or vessel out of the State, or using it within the State. There art- one or two other acts mentioned in tlie pleadings, which prin- cipally respect the time allowed for com- plying with the condition of the grant, and are not material to the discussion of the case. By these acts, then, an exclusive right is given to Livingston and Fulton to use steam navigation on all tiie waters of New York, for thirty years from 1808. It is not necessary to recite the sev- eral conveyances and agreements, stated in the record, by which Ogden, the plain- tiff below, derives title under Living- ston and Fulton to the exclusive use of part of these waters for steam navi- gation. The appellant being owner of a steam- boat, and being found navigating the rt'aters between New Jersey and the city of New York, over which waters Ogden, the plaintiff below, claims an exclusive right, under Livingston and Fulton, this bill was tiled against him by Ogden, in October, 1818, and an injunction granted, restraining him from such use of his boat. This injunction was made perpetual, on the final hearing of the cause, in the Court of Ciiancery; and the decree of the Chancellor has been duly affirmed in the Court of Errors. The right, therefore, which the plaintiff below asserts, to have and maintain his injunction, depends obviously on the general validity of the New York laws, and especially on their force and opera- tion as against the right set up by the defendant. This right he states in his answer to be, that he is a citizen of New Jersey, and owner of the steamboat in question ; that the boat is a vessel of more than twenty tons burden, duly en- rolled and licensed for carrying on the coasting trade, and intended to be em- ployed by him in that trade, between Elizabetlitown, in New Jersey, and the city of New York ; and that it was ac- tually employed in navigating between those places at the time of, and until notice of, the injunction from the Court of Chancery was served on him. On these pleadings the substantial question is raised. Are these laws such as the legislature of New York has a right to pass? If su, do they, secondly, in their operation, interfere with any right enjoyed under the Constitution and laws of the United States, and are they therefore void, as far as such interfer- ence extends? It may be well to state again their general purport and effect, and the pur- port and effect of the other State laws which have been enacted by way of re- taliation. A steam-vessel, of any description, going to New York, is forfeited to the representatives of Livingston and Ful- ton, unless she have their license. Going from New York or elsewhere to Con- necticut, she is prohibited from entering the waters of that State if she have such license. If the representatives of Livingston and Fulton in New York carry into ef- fect, by judicial process, the provision, of the New York laws, against any citi- zen of New Jersey, they expose them- selves to a statute action in New Jersey for all damages, and treble costs. The New York laws extend to all steam-vessels; to steam frigates, steam ferry-boats, and all intermediate classes. They extend to public as well as private ships; and to vessels employed in for- eign commerce, as well as to those em- ployed in the coasting trade. The remedy is as summary as the grant itself is ample; for immediate confiscation, without seizm-e, trial, or judgment, is the penalty of infringe- ment. In regard to these acts, I shall con- tend, in the first place, that they exceed the power of the legislature; and, sec- ondly, that, if they could be considered valid for any purpose, they are void still, as against any right enjoyed unuer the laws of the United States with which 8 114 THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. they oome iii collision ; aud that in this case they are found interfering with such rights. I shall contend that the power of Con- gress to regulate commerce is complete and entire, and, to a certain extent, necessarily exclusive; that the acts in question are regulations of commerce, in a most important particular, af- fecting it in those respects in which it is under the exclusive authority of Congress. I state this first proposi- tion guardedly. I do not mean to Bay, that all regulations which may, in their operation, affect commerce, are ex- clusively in the power of Congi-ess ; but that such power as has been exercised in this case does not remain with the States. Nothing is more complex than commerce; and in such an age as this, no words embrace a wider field than commercial ret/ulation. Almost all the business and intercourse of life may be connected incidentally, more or less, with commercial regulations. But it is only necessary to apply to this part of the Constitution the well-settled rules of construction. Some powers are held to be exclusive in Congress, from the use of exclusive words in the grant; others, fi-om the prohibitions on the States to exercise similar powers; and others, again, from the nature of the powers themselves. It has been by this mode of reasoning that the court has adjudi- cated many important questions; and the same mode is proper here. And, as bome powers have been held to be exclu- bive, and others not so, under the same form of expression, from the nature of the dili'ereut powers respectively; so where the power, on any one subject, is given in general words, like the power to regulate commerce, the true method of construction will be to consider of what parts the grant is composed, and which of those, from the nature of the thing, ought to be considered exclusive. The riglit set up in this case, under the laws of New York, is a monopoly. Now I think it very reasonable to say, that the Constitution never intended to leave with the States the power of granting monopolies either of trade or of naviga- tion ; and therefore, that, as to this, the commercial power is exclusive in Con- gress. It is in vain to look for a precise and exact definition of the powers of Con- gress on several subjects. The Consti- tution does not undertake the task of making such exact definitions. In con- ferring powers, it proceeds by the way of enumeration, stating the powers con- ferred, one after another, in few words ; and where the power is general or com- plex in its natui-e, the extent of the grant must necessarily be judged of, and limited, by its object, and by the nature of the power. Few things are better kno^NTi than the immediate causes which led to the adop- tion of the present Constitution; and there is nothing, as I think, clearer, than that the prevailmg motive was to regu- late commerce; to rescue it from the em- barrassing and destructive consequences resulting from the legislation of so many different States, and to place it under the protection of a uniform law. The great objects were commerce and reve- nue; and they were objects indissolubly connected. By the Confederation, divers restrictions had been imposed on the States; but these had not been fomid sufficient. No State, it is true, could send or receive an embassy; nor make any treaty ; nor enter into any compact with another State, or with a foreign power; nor lay duties interfering with treaties which had been entered into by Congress. But all these were found to be far short of what the actual condition of the country required. The States could still, each for itself, regulate commerce, and tlie consequence was a perpetual jarrhig and hostility of com mercial regulation. In the history of the times, it is ao cordingly found, that the great topic, urged on all occasions, as showing ihe necessity of a new and different govern- ment, was the state of trade and com- merce. To benefit and improve these was a great object in itself ; and it be- came greater wlien it was regarded as the only means of enabling the country to pay the public debt, and to do justice to THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND UJDEN. llo those who havl most effectually hibored for its iiulepeudeuce. The leading state papers of the time are full of this topic. Tiie Xew Jersey resolutions ^ complain that the regulation of trade was in the power of the several States, within their separate jurisdiction, to such a degree as to involve many difficulties and em- barrassments; and they express an ear- nest opinion, that the sole and exclusive power of regulating trade wdth foreign states ought to be in Congress. Mr. AVitherspoon's motion in Congress, in 1781, is of the same general character; and the report of a committee of that body, in 1785, is still more emphatic. It declares that Congress ought to pos- sess the sole and exclusive power of regulating trade, as well with foreign nations as between the States.- The resolutions of Virginia, in January, 17SG, which were the immediate cause of the Convention, put forth this same great object. Indeed, it is the onty ob- ject stated in those resolutions. There is not another idea in the whole docu- ment. The sole purpose for which the delegates assembled at Annapolis was to devise means for the uniform regulation of trade. They found no means but in a general government ; and they recom- mended a convention to accomplish that pm-pose. Over whatever other interests of the country this government may diffuse its benefits and its blessings, it will always be true, as matter of histor- ical fact, that it had its immediate origin in the necessities of commerce ; and for its unmediate object, the relief of those necessities, by removing their causes, and by establishing a uniform and steady system. It will be easy to show, by reference to the discussions in the sev- eral State conventions, the prevalence of the same general topics ; and if any one would look to the proceedings of several of the States, especially to those of Massachusetts and Xew York, he would see very plainly, by the recorded lists of votes, that wherever this commer- cial necessity was most strongly felt, there the proposed new Constitution had I 1 Laws U. S., p. 28, Bioren and Duane's ed. » 1 Laws U. S., p. 50. most frienils. In the New Ydrk con- vention, the argument arising from this consideration was strongly pressed, by the distinguished person ^ whose name is connected with the present ques- tion. We do not find, in the history of the fonnatiou and adoption of the Constitu- tion, that any man sjieaks of a general concurrent power, in the regulation of foreign and domestic trade, as still re- siding in the States. The very object intended, more than any other, was to take away such power. If it had not so I^rovided, the Constitution would not have been worth accepting. I contend, therefore, that the people intended, in establishing the Constitu- tion, to transfer from the several States to a general government those high and important powers over commerce, which, in their exercise, were to maintain a uniform and general system, from the very natm'e of the case, these powers must be exclusive; that is, the higher branches of commercial regulation must be exclusively conmiitted to a single hand. "What is it that is to be recu- lated? Not the commerce of the several States, respectively, but the commerce of the United States. Henceforth, the commerce of the States was to be a unit, and the system by which it was to exist and be governed must necessarily be complete, entire, and uniform. Its char- acter was to be described in the flag which waved over ^t, E pluribus unu.m. Xow, how could individual States assert a right of concuiTcnt legislation, in a case of this sort, without manifest en- croachment and confusion? It should be repeated, that the words used in the Constitution, "to regulate commerce," are so very general and extensive, that they may be construed to cover a vast field of legislation, part of which has always been occupied by State laws; and therefore the words must have a reason- able construction, and the power should be considered as exclusively vested in Congress so far, and so far only, as the nature of the power requh-es. And I insist, that the natm-e of the case, aud 8 Chancellor Livingston. 116 THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. of the power, did imperiously require, thut such important authority as that of granting monopolies of trade and navi- gation should not be considered as still retained by the States. It is apparent from the prohibitions on the power of the States, that the general concm-rent power -was not sup- posed to be left with them. And the exception out of these prohibitions of the inspection laws proves this still more clearly. "Which most concerns the commerce of this country, that New York and Virginia should have an un- controlled power to establish thek in- spection of 'flour and tobacco, or that they should have an uncontrolled power of granting either a monopoly of trade in their own ports, or a monopoly of navigation over all the waters leading to those ports? Yet the argument on the other side must be, that, although the Constitution has sedulously guarded and limited the first of these powers, it has left the last wholly unlinuted and un- controlled. But although much has been said, in the disciLssion on former occasions, about this supposed concurrent power in the States, I find great difficulty in under- standing what is meant by it. It is generally qualified by saying, that it is a power by which the States could pass laws on subjects of commercial regula- tion, which would be valid until Con- gress should pass other laws controlling them, or inconsistent AA-ith them, and that then the State laws must yield. What sort of concurrent powers are these, which cannot exist together? In- deed, the very reading of the clause in the Constitution must put to flight this notion of a general concurrent power. The Constitution was formed for all the States -, and Congress was to have power to regulate commerce. Now, what is the import of this, but that Congress is to give the ride, to establish the system, to exercise the control over the subject? And can more than one power, in cases of this sort, give the rule, establish the system, or exercise the control? As it is not contended that the power of Con- gress is to be exercised by a supervision of State legislation, and as it is cleai that Congress is to give the general rule, I contend that this power of giving the general rule is transferred, by the Con- stitution, from the States to Congiess, to be exercised as that body may see fit ; and consequently, that all those high exercises of power, which might be considered as giving the rule, or estah lishing the system, in regard to great commercial interests, are necessarily left with Congress alone. Of this character I consider monopolies of trade or navi- gation; embargoes; the system of navi- gation laws; the countervailing laws, as against foreign states; and other im- portant enactments respecting our con- nection with such states. It appears to me a most reasonable construction to say, that in these respects the power of Congi-ess is exclusive, from the nature of the power. If it be not so, where is the limit, or who shall fix a boundary for the exercise of the power of the States? Can a State grant a monopoly of trade? Can New York shut her ports to all but her own citizens? Can she refuse admission to ships of particu- lar nations? The argimient on the other side is, and must be, that she might do all these things, until Congress should revoke her enactments. And this is called concurrent legislation ! "What con- fusion such notions lead to is obvious enough. A power m the States to do any thing, and every thing, in regard to connnerce, till Congress shall undo it, would suppose a state of things at least as bad as that which existed before the present Constitution. It is the true wis- dom of these governments to keep their action as distinct as possible. The general government shoidd not seek to operate where the States can operate with more advantage to the community; nor should the States encroach on ground which the public good, as well as the Constitution, refers to tlie exclu- sive control of Congress. If the present state of things, these laws of New York, the laws of Con- necticut, and the laws of New Jersey, had been all presented, in the conven- tion of New York, to llie eminent per- rHE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. 117 son whose name is on this record, and who acted on that occasion so impoi'tant apart; if he had been told, that, after all he had said in favor of the new gov- ernment, and of its sahxtary effects on conunercial regulations, the time woidd ye*; come when the Xorth River would be shut up by a monoisolj' from New York, the Sound interdicted by a penal law of Connecticut, reprisals authorized by New Jersey against citizens of New YoiK, and when one could not cross a ferry without transshipment, does any one suppose he would have admitted all this as compatible with the government which he was recommending? This doctrine of a general concurrent power in the States is insidious and dangerous. If it be admitted, no one ^an say where it will stop. The States may legislate, it is said, wherever Con- tji-ess has not made a plenary exercise of its power. But who is to judge whether Congress has made this plenary exercise of power? Congress has acted on this power; it has done all that it deemed wise; and are the States now to do whatever Congress has left undone? Congress makes such rules as, in its judgment, the case requires; and those niles, whatever they are, constitute the system. All useful regulation does not consist in restraint; and that which Congress sees fit to leave free is a part of its regu- lation, as much as the rest. The practice under the Constitution sufficiently evinces, that this portion of the commercial power is exclusive in Congi'ess. TVHien, before this instance, have the States granted monopolies? A\Tien, until now, have they interfered with the na\'igation of the country? The pilot laws, the health laws, or quar- antine laws, and various regulations of that class, which have been recogiiized by Congress, are no arginnents to prove, even if they are to be called commercial regulations (which they are not), that other regulations, more directly and strictly commercial, are not solely with- in the power of Congress. There is a Bingular fallacy, as I venture to think, in the argument of very learned and most respectable persons on this sub- ject. That argument alleges, that the States have a concurrent power with Congress of regulating commerce; and the proof of this position is, that the States have, Avithout any question of their right, passed acts respecting turnpike roads, toll-bridges, and ferries. 'J'he.se are declared to be acts of commercial regulation, affecting not only the in- terior commerce of the State itself, but also commerce between different States. Thei-efore, as all these are commercial regulations, and are yet acknowledged to be rightfully established by the States, it follows, as is supposed, that the States must have a concurrent power to regulate commerce. Now, what is the inevitable conse- quence of this mode of reasoning? Does it not admit the power of Con- gress, at once, upon aU these minor ob- jects of legislation? If all these be regulations of commerce, within the meaning of the Constitution, then cer- tainly Congress, having a concurrent power to regulate commerce, may estab- lish ferries, turnpike-roads, and bridges, and provide for all this detail of interior legislation. To sustain the interference of the State in a high concern of mari- time commerce, the argument adopts a principle which acknowledges the right of CongTCSs over a vast scope of internal legislation, which no one has heretofore supposed to be within its powers. But this is not all; for it is admitted that, when Congress and the States have power to legislate over the same subject, the power of Congress, when exercised, controls or extinguishes the State power; and therefore the consequence would seem to follow, from the argument, that all State legislation over such subject* as have been mentioned is, at all times, liable to the superior power of Congress • a consequence which no one would ad- mit for a moment. The truth is, in my judgment, that all these things are, in their general character, rather regula- tions of police than of commerce, in the constitutional understanding of that term. A road, indeed, may be a matter of great commercial concern. In many 118 THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. cases it is so: and -svhen it is so, there is n.) doubt of tlie power of Congress to make it. But, generally speaking, roads, and bridges, and ferries, though of course they affect commerce and intercourse, do not possess such importance and eleva- *;iou as to be deemed commercial regula- tions. A reasonable construction must be given to the Constitution ; and such construction is as necessary to the just poTver of the States, as to the authority of Congress. Quarantine laws, for ex- ample, may Ije considered as affecting commerce; yet they are, in tlieir nature, health laws. In England, we speak of the power of regulating commerce as in Parliament, or the king, as arbiter of commerce ; yet the city of London enacts health laws. Would any one infer from that circumstance, that the city of Lon- don had concurrent power with Parlia- ment or the crown to regulate commerce? or that it might grant a monopoly of the navigation of the Thames? AVhile a health law is reasonable, it is a health law; but if, under, color of it, enact- ments should be made for other pur- poses, such enactments might be void. In the discussion in the New York courts, no small reliance was placed on the law of that State prohibiting the importation of slaves, as an examj^le of a commercial regulation enacted by State authority. That law may or may not be constitutional and valid. It has been referred to generally, but its particular provisions have not been stated. When they are more clearly seen', its character may be better deter- mined. It might further be argued, that the power of Congress over these high branches of commerce is exclusive, from the consideration that Congress possesses an exclusive admiralty juris- diction. That it does possess such exclusive jurisdiction will hardly be contested. No State pretends to exer- cise any jurisdiction of that kind. The States abolisiied their courts of admi- ralty, when the Constitution went into operation. Over these waters, there- fore, or at least some of them, whicli are the subject of this monopoly, New York has no jurisdictira whatever. They are a part of the high seas, and not within the body of any county. The autliorities of that State could not punish for a murder, committed on board one of these boats, in some places within the range of this exclusive grant. This restraining of the States from all jurisdiction out of the boly of their owu counties, shows plainly enough that navigation on the high seas was under- stood to be a matter to be regulated only by Congress. It is not unreason- able to SaV, that what are called the waters of New York are, for purposes of navigation and commercial regula- tion, the waters of the United States. There is no cession, indeed, of the waters themselves, but their use for those purposes seems to be intrusted to the exclusive power of Congress. Sev- eral States have enacted laws which would appear to imply their conviction of the power of Congress over navigable waters to a greater extent. If there be a concurrent power of regulating commerce on the high seas, there must be a concurrent admiralty jurisdiction, and a concurrent control of the waters. It is a common principle, that arms of the sea, including naviga- ble rivers, belong to the sovereign, so far as navigation is concerned. Their use is navigation. The United States possess the general power over naviga- tion, and, of course, ought to control, in general, the use of navigable waters. If it be admitted that, for purposes of trade and navigation, the North River and its bay are the river and bay of New York, and the Chesapeake the bay of ^'ir- ginia, very great inconveniences and much confusion might be the result. It may now be well to take a nearer view of these laws, to .see more exactly what their provisions are, what conse- quences have followed from them, and what would and might follow from other similar laws. The first grant to John Fitch gave him tlie sole and exclusive right of making, employing, and navigating all boats impelled by fire or steam, " in all creeks, rivers, bays, and waters within THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. 119 the territory and jurisdiction of the State." Any other person navigating such boat was to forfeit it, and to pay a penalty of a hundred pounds. The subsequent acts repeal this, and grant similar privileo;es to Livingston and Fulton; and the act of 1811 provides the extraordinary and summary remedy which has been already stated. The river, the bay, and tlie marine league along the snore, are all within the scope of this grant. Any vessel, therefore, of this description, coming into any of those waters, without a license, whether from another State or from abroad, whether it be a public or private vessel, is instantly forfeited to the grantees of " the monopoly. Now it must be remembered that this grant is made as an exercise of sov- sreigu political power. It is not an in- spection law, nor a health law, nor passed by any derivative authority ; it is professedly an act of sovereign power. Of course, there is no limit to the power, to be derived from the purpose for which it is exercised. If exercised for one purpose, it may be also for an- other. No one can inquire into the motives which influence sovereign au- thority. It is enough that such power manifests its will. The motive alleged in this case is, to remunerate the gran- tees for a benefit conferred by them on the public. But there is no necessary connection between that benefit and this mode of rewarding it; and if the State could gi'ant this monopoly for that purpose, it could also grant it for any other piu-pose. It could make the gi'ant for money; and so make the mo- ■aopoly of navigation over those waters a direct source of revenue. TMien this monopoly shall expire, in 1838, the State may continue it, for any pecuni- ary consideration which the holders may see fit to offer, and the State to receive. If the State may grant this monopoly, it may also gi'ant another, for other descriptions of vessels; for instance, for aU sloops. If it can grant these exclusive privi- leges to a few, it may gi'ant them to many; that is, it may grant them to all its own citizens, to the exclusion of everybody else. But the waters of New York are no more the subject of exclusive grants by that State, than the waters of other States are subjects of such grants by those other States. Virginia may well exercise, over the entrance of the Ches- apeake, all the power that New York can exercise over the bay of New York, and the waters on her shores. The Chesapeake, therefore, upon the prin- ciple of these laws, may be the subject of State monopoly ; and so may the bay of Massachusetts. But this is not all. It requires no greater power to grant a monopoly of trade, than a monopoly of navigation. Of course. New York, if these acts can be maintained, may give an exclusive riglit of entiy of vessels into her ports; and the other States may do the same. These are not ex- treme cases. We have only to suppose that other States should do what New York has already done, and that the power should be carried to its full extent. To aU this, no answer is to be given but one, that the concurrent jiower of the States, conciurent though it be, is yet subordinate to the legislation of Congi-ess; and that therefore Congress may, whenever it pleases, annul the State legislation; but until it does so annul it, the State legislation is valid and effectual. What is there to recom- mend a construction which leads to a result like this? Here would be a per- petual hostility; one legislature enacts ing laws, till another legislatui'e should repeal them; one sovereign power giv- ing the rule, till another sovereign power should abrogate it; and all this under the idea of concurrent legislation I But, further, under this concurrent power, the State does that which Con- gress cannot do; that is, it gives prefer- ences to the citizens of some States over those of others. I do not mean here the advantages conferred by the grant on the grantees; but the disadvantages to which it subjects all the other citi- zens of New York. To impose an ex- 120 THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. traordinary tax on steam navigation visiting the ports of Xew York, and leaving it free everj'M'here else, is giv- ing a preference to the citizens of other States over those of New York. This Congi'ess could not do; and yet the State does it; so that this power, at first subordinate, then concurrent, now becomes paramount. The people of Xew York have a right to be protected against this monopoly. It is one of the objects for which tliey agreed to this Constitution, that they should stand on an equality in commer- cial regulations ; and if the government should not insure them that, the prom- ises made to them in its behalf would not be performed. I contend, therefore, in conclusion on this point, that the power of Congress over these high branches of commercial regulation is shown to be exclusive, by considering what was wished and in- tended to be done, when the convention for forming the Constitution was called ; by what was understood, in the State conventions, to have been accomplished by the instrument; by the prohibitions on the States, and the express excep- tion relative to inspection laws ; by the nature of the power itself ; by the terms used, as connected with the nature of the power; by the subsequent under- standing and practice, both of Congress and the States; by the grant of ex- clusive admiralty jurisdiction to the federal government; by the manifest danger of the opposite doctrine, and the ruinous consequences to which it di- rectly leads. Little is now required to be said, to prove that this exclusive grant is a law regulating commerce ; although, in some of the discussions elsewhere, it has been called a law of police. If it be not a regulation of commerce, then it follows, against the constant admission on the otiier side, that Congress, even by an express act, cannot annul or control it. For if it 1)3 not a regulation of com- merce. Congress has no concern with it. But the granting of monopolies of this kind is always referred to the power over commerce It was aa arbiter of com- merce that the king formerly granted such monopolies.^ This is a law regii- lating commerce, inasmuch as :* imposea new conditions and terms on the coast- ing trade, on foreign trade generally, and on foreign trade as regulated by treaties; and inasmuch as it interferes with the free navigation of navigable waters. If, then, the power of commercial reg- ulation possessed by Congress be, in regard to the gi-eat branches of it, ex- clusive ; and if this grant of Xew York be a commercial regulation, affecting commerce in respect to these great branches, then the grant is void, whether any case of actual collision has hapi>eued or not. But I contend, in the second place, that whether the grant were to be re- garded as wholly void or not, it must, at least, be inoj>erative, when the rights claimed under it come in collision with other rights, enjoyed and secured under the laws of the United States ; and such collision, I maintain, clearly exists in this case. It will not be denied that the law of Congi-ess is paramount. The Constitution has expressly provided for that. So that the only question in this part of the case is, whether the two rights be inconsistent with each other. The appellant has a right to go from Xew Jersey to Xew York, in a vessel o\med by himself, of the proper legal description, and enrolled and licensed according to law. This right belongs to him as a citizen of the United States. It is derived under the laws of the United States, and no act of the legis- lature of Xew York can deprive him of it, any more than such act could deprive him of the right of holding lands in that State, or of suing in its covu'ts. It ap- pears from the record, that the boat in question was regularly enrolled at Perth Amboy, and properly licensed for carry- ing on the coasting trade. Under this enrolment, and with tliis license, she was proceeding to Xew York, when she was stopped by the injunction of the Chan- 1 1 Black. Com. 273; 4 Blaik. Com. 160. THE CASE OF GTRBOXS AND OGDEN. 121 cellor, on the application of the New York orantees. Ihere can be no doubt that liere is a collision, in fact; that which the appellant claimed as a right, the respondent resisted; and there re- mains nothing now but to determine whether the appellant had, as he con- tends, a right to navigate these waters; because, if he had such right, it must prevail. Now, this right is expressly conferred by the laws of the United States. The first section of the act of February, 1703, ch 8, regulating the coasting trade and fisheries, declares, that all ships and vessels, enrolled and licensed as that act provides, "and no others, shall be deemed ships or vessels of the United States, entitled to the privileges of ships or vessels employed in the coasting trade or fisheries." The fourth section of the same act declares, "that, in order to the licensing of any ship or vessel, for car- rying on the coasting trade or fisheries," bond shall be given, according to the provisions of the act. And the same section declares, that, the owner having complied with the requisites of the law, " it shall be the duty of the collector to gi-ant a license for carrjdng on the coast- ing trade " ; and the act proceeds to give the form and words of the license, which is, therefore, of course, to be received as a part of the act; and the words of the license, after the necessary recitals, are, " License is hereby granted for the said vessel to be employed in carrying on the coasting trade. ' ' Words could not make this authority more express. The court below seems to me, with great deference, to have mistaken the object and nature of the license. It seoms to have been of opinion, that the license has no other intent or effect than to ascertain the ownership and character of the A'essel. But this is the peculiar office and object of the enrolment. That dociunent ascertains that the regidar proof of ownership and character has been given; and the license is given to confer the right to which the party has shown himself entitled. It is the au- thority which the master carries with him, to prove his right to navigate freely the waters of the United States, and to carry on the coasting trade. In some of the discussions which have been had on this question, it has been said, that Congress has only provided for ascertaining the ownership and property of vessels, but has not prescribed to what use they may be applied. But this is an obvious error. The whole object of the act regulating the coasting trade is to declare wiuit vessels sliall enjoy the benefit of being employed in that trade. To secure this use to certain vessels, and to deny it to others, is precisely the pur- pose for which the act was passed. The error, or what I humbly suppose to be the error, in the judgment of the court below, consists in that court's having thought, that, although Congress might act, it had not yet acted, in such a way as to confer a right on the appellant; whereas, if a right was not given by this law, it never could be given. No law can be more express. It has been ad- mitted, that, supposing there is a pro- vision in the act of Congress, that all vessels duly licensed shall be at liberty to navigate, for the purpose of trade and commerce, all the navigable harbors, bays, rivers, and lakes within the sev- eral States, any law of the States creat- ing particular privileges as to any par- ticular class of vessels to the contrary notwithstanding, the only question that could arise, in such a case, would be, whether the law was constitutional; and that, if that was to be granted or de- cided, it would certainly, in all courts and places, overrule and set afide the State grant. Now, I do not see that such supposed case could be distinguished from the present. We show a provision in an act of Congress, that all vessels, duly li- censed, may carry on the coasting trade; nobody doubts the constitutional valid- ity of that law; and we show that this vessel was duly licensed according to its provisions. This is all that is essential in the case supposed. The presence or absence of a non obstante clause cannot affect the extent or operation of the act of Congress. Congress has no power of revoking State laws, as a dielinct power 122 THE CASE OF GIBBONS AND OGDEN. It legislates over subjects; and over those subjects which are \Yithin its power, its legislation is supreme, and necessarily overrules all inconsistent or repugnant State legislation. If Congress were to pass an act expressly revoking or annul- ling, in whole or in part, this New York grant, such an act would be wholly use- less and inoperative. If the New York grant be opposed to, or inconsistent with, any constitutional power which Congress has exercised, then, so far as the incom- patibility exists, the grant is nugatory and void, necessarily, and by reason of the supremacy of the law of Congress. But if the grant be not inconsistent with any exercise of the powers of Congress, then, certainly, Congress has no author- ity to revoke or annul it. Such an act of Congress, therefore, would be either unconstitutional or supererogatory. The laws of Congress need no non obstante clause. The Constitution makes them Bupreme, when State laws come into opposition to them. So that in these cases there is no question except this; whether there be, or be not, a repug- nancy or hostility between the law of Congress and the law of the State. Nor is it at all material, in this view, whether the law of the State be a law regulating con)merce, or a law of police, nor by what other name or character it may be designated. If its provisions be incon- sistent with an act of Congress, they are void, so far as that inconsistency ex- tends. The whole argument, therefore, is substantially and effectually given up, when it is admitted that Congress might, by express terms, abrogate the State grant, or declare that it should not stand m the way of its own legislation; be- cause such express terms would add noth- ing to the effect and operation of an act of Congress. I contend, therefore, upon tlie whole of this point, that a case of actual col- lision has been made out between the State grant and the act of Congress; and as the act of Congress is entirely unexceptionable, and cleai'ly in pursu- ance of its coiistilutional powers, the State grant iruist yield. There are other provisions of the Con- stitution of the United States, which have more or less bearing on this ques- tion. " No State shall, without the consent of Congress, lay any duty of tonnage." Under color of grants like this, that prohibition might be wholly evaded. This grant authorizes Messre. Livingston and Fulton to license naviga- tion in the waters of New York. They, of course, license it on their own terms. They may require a pecuniary consider- ation, ascertained by the tonnage of the vessel, or in any other manner. Prob- ably, in fact, they govern themselves, in this respect, by the size or tonnage of the vessels to which they grant licenses. Now, what is this but substantially a tonnage duty, under the law of the State? Or does it make any differ- ence, whether the receipts go directly into her own treasury, or into the hands of those to whom she has made the grant? There is, lastly, that provision of the Constitution which gives Congress power to promote the progress of science and the useful arts, by securing to authors and inventors, for a limited time, an ex- clusive riglit to their own writings and discoveries. Congress has exercised this power, and made all the provisions which it deemed useful or necessary. The States may, indeed, like munificent individuals, exercise their own bounty towards authors and inventors, at their own discretion. But to confer reward by exclusive grants, even if it were but a part of the use of the writing or inven- tion, is not supposed to be a jwwer properly to be exercised by the States. ^luch less can they, under the notion of conferring rewards in such cases, grant monopolies, the enjoyment of which is essentially incompatible with the exer- cise of rights possessed under the laws of the United States. I shall insist, however, the less on these points, as they are open to counsel who will come after me on the same side, and as I have said so much upon what appears to me the more important and interesting part of the argument. THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. AN ADDRESS DELIVERED AT THE LAYING OF THE CORNER-STONE OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT AT CIIARLESTOWN, MASSACHUSETTS, ON THR 17th OF JUNE, 1825. [As early as 1776, some steps were taken toward the comincmoration of the battle of Bunker Hill and the fall of General War- ren, who was buried upon the hill the day after the action. The Massachusetts Lodge of Masons, over which he presided, applied to the provisional government of Massachu- setts, for permission to take up his remains and to bury them with the usual solcnnii- ties. The Council granted this request, on condition that it sliould be carried into ef- fect in such a manner that the government of the Colony might have an op])ortunity to erect a monument to his memory. A funeral procession was liad, and a Eulogy on Gen- eral Warren was delivered by Perez Morton, but no measures were taken toward build- ing a monument. A resolution was adopted by the Congress of the United States on the 8tli of April, 1777, directing that monuments should be erected to the memory of General Warren, in Boston, and of General Mercer, at Fred- ericksburg; but this resolution has remained to the present time unexecuted. On the 11th of November, 1704, a com- mittee was appointed by King Solomon's Lodge, at Charlestown,^ to take measures for the erection of a monument to the mem- ory of General Joseph Warren at the ex- pense of the Lodge. This resolution was promptly carried into effect, 'llie land for this ]nirpose was presented to the Lodge by the Hon. James Russell, of Charlestown, and it was dedicated with appropriate cer- emonies on the 2d of December, 170-1. It was a wooden pillar of the Tuscan order, eighteen feet in height, raised on a pedestal eight feet square, and of an elevation of ten feet from the ground. Tiie pillar was sur- mounted by a gilt urn. An appropriate in- scription was placed on the south side of the pedestal. In February, 1818, a committee of the 1 General Warren, at the time of his decease, was Grand Master of the Masonic Lodges in America. legislature of Massachusetts was appomt- ed to consider the expediency of building a monument of American marble of the mem- ory of General Wurren, but this projiosal was not carried into effect. As the half-century from the date of the battle drew toward a close, a stronger feel- ing of the duty of commemorating it liegan to be awakened in the comnnmity. Among those wlio from the first manifested the greatest interest in the subject, was the late William Tudor, Esq. He expressed the wish, in a letter still preserved, to see upon the battle-groimd " the noblest monu- ment in the world," and he was so ardent and persevering in urging the project, that it has been stated that he first conceived the idea of it. The steps taken in execu- tion of the project, from the earliest private conferences among the gentlemen first en- gaged in it to its final completion, are accu- rately sketched by Mr. Richard Frothing- ham, Jr., in his valuable History of the Siege of Boston. All the material facts contained in this note are derived from his chapter on the Bunker Hill Monument. After giving an account of the organiza- tion of the society, the measures adopted for the collection of funds, and the delib- erations on the form of the monument, Mr. Frothingham proceeds as follows : — " It was at this stage of the enterprise that the directors proposed to lay the corner-stone of the monument, and ground was liroken (.lune 7th) for tills puriiosc. As a mark of rcsiu-ot to the liberality and patriotism of Kinir Solomon's Lodge, they invited the Grand Master of the Grand Lodge of Massachusetts to perform the ceremony. They also invited General Lafayette to accompany the President of the Association, Hon. Daniel Webster, and assist in it. "This celebration was unequalled in majrnifi- cence by any thing of the kind that had been seen in New England. The morning proved propitious. The air was cool, the sky was clear, and timely showers the previous day had brightened the vesture of nature into its love- liest hue. Delighted thousands flocked into 124 THE BUNKER IinX MON'OIENT. Boston to bear a part in the proceedinfrf. or to witness the spectacle. At about ten o'clock a procession moved from the State House towards Bunker Hill. The military, in their fine uni- forms, formed the van. About two hundred veterans of the Revolution, of whom forty were « irvivors of the battle, rode in barouches next to *.he escort. These venerable men, the relics of a past generation, with emaciated frames, tot- terin;,' limbs, and trembling voices, constituted a touching spectacle. Some wore, as honorable decorations, their old fighting equipments, and loine bore the scars of still more honorable wounds. Glistening eyes constituted their an- swer to the enthusiastic cheers of the grateful multitr.des who lined their pathway and cheered their progress. To this patriot band succeeded the Bimker Hill Monument Association. Then the Masonic fraternity, in their splendid regalia, thousands in number. Then I.afayette, con- tinually welcomed by tokens of love and grati- tude, and the invitee! guest*. Then a long array of societies, with their various badges and ban- ners. It was a splendid procession, and of such length that the front nearly reached Charles- tow-n Bridge ere the rear had left Boston Com- mon. It proceeded to Breed's Hill, where the Grand Master of the Freemasons, the President of the Monument .Association, and General La- fayette, performed the ceremonj' of laying the comer-stone, in the presence of a vast concourse of people." The procession then moved to a spacious amphitheatre on the northern declivity of the hill, when the following address was de- livered by Mr. Webster, in the presence of as great a mnltitiide as was ever perhaps assembled within the sound of a human voice.] This uncounted multitude before me and around me proves the feeling which the occa.sion has excited. These thou- sands of human faces, glowing -with sym- pathy and joy, and from the impulses of a common cn-atitude turned reverently to heaven in this spacious temple of the firmament, proclaim tliat the day, the place, and the purpose of oiu" assembling- have made a deep impression on our hearts. If, indeed, there be anything in local association fit to affect tlie mind of man, we need not strive to repress the emo- tions which agitate iis here. We are among the sepulchres of our fathers. "We are on ground, distinguished by tlieir valor, their constancy, and the plicdding of their blood. We are here, not to fix an uncertain date in our an- nals, nor to draw into notice an obscure and unknown spot. If our humble pur- poi'e had never been conceived, if we ourselves hud never been born, the 17th of .Time, 1775, would have Cteen a day on which all sub.sequent hi.«ton' would have poured its light, and the eminence where we stand a point of attraction to the eyes of successive generations. But we are Americans. We live in what may be called the early age of this great continent; and we know that our pos- terity, through all time, are here to en- joy and suffer the allotments of human- ity. We see before us a probable train of gi'eat events ; we know that our own fortunes have been happily cast : and it is natural, therefore, that we should be moved by the contemplation of occur- rences which have guided our destiny before many of us were born, and set- tled the condition in which we should pass that portion of our exi.stence which God allows to men on earth. We do not read even of the discovery of this continent, without feeling some- thing of a personal interest in the event; without being reminded how much it has affected our own fortunes and our own existence. It would be still more unnatural for us, therefore, than for others, to contemplate with unaffected minds that interesting, I may say that most touching and pathetic scene, when the great discoverer of America stood on the deck of his shattered bark, the shades of night falling on the sea, yet no man sleeping ; tossed on the billows of an unknown ocean, yet the stronger bil- lows of alternate hope and despair toss- ing his own troubled thoughts ; extend- ing forward his harassed frame, straining westward his anxious and eager eyes, till Heaven at last granted him a moment of rapture and ecsta.sy, in blessing his vision with the sight of the u^lkno■^\^l world. Nearer to our times, more closely con- nected with om- fates, and therefore still more interesting to om- feelings and af- fections, is the settlement of our oaati country by colonists from England. We cherish every memorial of these worthy ancestors ; we celebrate their i^atience and fortitude; we admire their daring entei-prise ; we teach our children to venerate their piety; and we are justly proud of being descended from men who have set the world an example of found- THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 125 big civil institutions on the great and united principles of human freedom and human knowledge. To us, their chil- dren, the story of their labors and suf- terintjs can never be without its interest. / We shall not stand unmoved on the shore of Plymouth, while the sea contuuies to wash it ; nor will our brethren in another early and ancient Colony forget the place of its first establishment, till their river shall cease to flow by it.i Xo vigor of youth, no maturity of manhood, will lead the nation to forget the spots where its infancy was cradled and defended. But the great event m the history of the continent, which we are now met here to commemorate, that prodigy of modern tmies, at once the wonder and the blessing of the world, is the Ameri- can Revolution. In a day of extraordi- nary prosperity and happiness, of high national honor, distinction, and power, we are brought together, m this place, by our love of country, by om- admira- tion of exalted character, by om- grati- tude for signal services and patriotic devotion. The Society whose organ I am ^ was formed for the purpose of rearing some honorable and durable monument to the memory of the early friends of Ameri- can Independence. They have thought, that for this object no time could be more propitious than the present pros- perous and peaceful period ; that no place could claim preference over this memorable spot; and that no day could be more auspicious to the undertaking, 1 An interesting account of the voj-age of the early emigrants to the Maryland Colony, and of its settlement, is given in the official re- port of Father White, written probably within the first month after the landing at St. Mar_v's. The original Latin manuscript is still preserved among the archives of the Jesuits at Rome. The '" Ark " and the " Dove " are remembered with scarcely less interest by the descendants of tlie sister colony, than is the "Mayflower" iu New England, which thirteen years earlier, at the same season of the year, bore thither the Pilgrim Fathers. ■•^ Mr. Webster was at this time President of the Bunker Hill Monument Association, chosen on the decease of Governor John Brooks, the first President. than the anniversary ot the battle which was here fought. The foundation of that monument we have now laid. With solemnities suited to the occa- sion, with prayers to Almighty God for his blessing, and in the midst of tliia cloud of witnesses, we have begun the work. AVe trust it will be prosecuted, and that, springing from a broad foun- dation, rising high in massive solidity and unadorned grandeur, it may reraaia as long as Heaven permits the works of man to last, a fit emblem, both of the events in memory of which it is raised, and of the gratitude of those who have reared it. We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most safely depos- ited in the imiversal remembrance of mankind. We know, that if we could cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the skies, but till it pierced them, its broad surfaces could still contain but part of that which, in an age of knowledge, hath already been spread over the earth, and which history charges itself with making known to all future times. We know that no inscrip- tion on entablatures less broad than the earth itself can carry information of the events we commemorate where it has not aheady gone ; and that no structure, which shall not outlive the duration of letters and knowledge among men, can prolong the memorial. But our object is, by this edifice, to show our own deep sense of the value and importance of the achievements of our ancestors; and, by presenting this work of gratitude to the ej'e, to keep alive similar sentiments, and to foster a constant regard for the principles of the Revolution. Human beings are composed, not of reason only, I but of imagination also, and sentiment; i and that is neither wasted nor misap- plied which is appropriated to the pur- pose of giving right direction to senti- ments, and opening proper springs of feeling in the heart. Let it not be sup- posed that our object is to perpetuate national hostility, or even to cherish a mere military spirit. It is higher, purer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the spirit of national independence^ 120 THE BUNKER HILL MON'UMENT. and we wish that the light of peace may rest upon it for ever. We rear a memo- rial of our conviction of that unmeas- ured benefit which has been conferred on our own land, and of the happy in- fluences which have been produced, by the same events, on the general interests of mankind. We come, as Americans, to mark a .spot which must for ever be ds;ar to us and our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all coming time, shall tui u his eye hither, may behold that the place is not undistinguished where the first great battle of the Revolution was fought. We \\ ish that this structure may proclaim the magnitude and importance of that event to every class and every age. \Ye wish that infancy maj'^ learn the purpose of its erection from mater- nal lips, and that weary and withered age may behold it, and be solaced by the recollections which it suggests. We wish that labor may look up here, and be proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish that, in those days of disaster, which, as they come upon all nations, must be expected to come upon us also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hitherward, and be assured that the foundations of our national power are still strong. We wish that this column, rising towards heaven among the pointed spires of so many temples dedicated to God, may contribute also to produce, in all minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish, finally, that the last object to the sight of him who leaves his native shore, and the first to gladden his who revisits it, may be something which shall remind him of tlie liberty and the glory of his country. Let it rise! let it rise, till it meet the 6uu in his coming; let the earliest light of the morning gild it, and parting day linger and play on its sununit. We live in a most extraordinary age. Events so various and so important that they miglit crowd and distinguish cen- turies are, in our times, compressed within the corapa.ss of a single life. AVhen has it liappened tliat history has had so much to record, in the same term of years, as since the ITlh of June, 1775? Our own Revolution, which, under other cu'cumstances, might itself have been exjiected to occasion a war of half a cen- tury, has been achieved; twenty-four sovereign and independent States erect- ed; and a general government estab- lished over them, so safe, so wise, so free, so practical, that we might well wonder its establishment should have been ac- complished so soon, were it not far the greater wonder that it should have been established at all. ' Two or three mil-~ lions of people have been augmented to twelve, the great forests of the West prostrated beneath the arm of success- ful industry, and the dwellers on the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi be- come the fellow-citizens and neighbors of those who cultivate the hills of New England. 1 We have a commerce, that leaves no sea unexplored; navies, which take no law from sujierior force; reve- nues, adequate to all the exigencies of government, almost without taxation; and peace with all nations, founded on equal rights and mutual respect. Europe, within the same period, has been agitated by a mighty revolution, which, wiiile it has been felt in the in- dividual condition and happiness of al- most every man, has shaken to the cen- tre her political fabric, and da^^hed against one another thrones which had stood tranquil for ages. On this, our continent, our own example has beeu followed, and colonies have sprung up to be nations. Unaccustomed sounds of liberty and free government have reached us from beyond the track of the sun; and at this moment the dominion of European power in this continent, from the place where we stand to the south pole, is annihilated for ever. In the mean time, both in Europe and 1 That wliich was spoken of figuratively in 182.") lias, ill the lapse of a quarter of a century, by the iiitroihiction of railroads anil telegraphic lines, become a reality. It is an interesting circumstance, that the lirst railroad on tiio Western Continent was constructed for the pur- pose of acceleraiing the erection of this nionu- uient. 2 See President Monroe's Message to Con- gress in 1S2-'1, aiul Mr. \Vebster'8 speech ou ihf I'anama Mi>^ion, in 182G. THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 127 America, such has been the general piog- ress of knowledge, such the improve- ment in legislation, in connnerce, in tlie arts, in letters, and, above all, in liberal ideas and the general spirit of the age, that the whole world seems changed. Yet, notwithstanding that this is but a faint abstract of the things which have happened since the day of the bat- tle of Bunker Hill, we are but fifty years removed from it; and we now stand here to enjoy all the blessings of our own condition, and to look abroad on the brightened prospects of the world, while we still have among us some of those w^ho were active agents in the scenes of 1775, and who are now here, from every quarter of New England, to visit once more, and under circum- stances so affecting, I had almost said so overwhelming, this renowned theatre of their courage and patriotism. Veneuable mex 1 you have come down to us from a former generation. Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for your country. Behold, how altered 1 The same heavens are indeed over your heads ; the same ocean rolls at your feet ; but all else how changed ! You hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed volumes of smoke and flame risinsT from burning Charlestown. The ground strewed with the dead and the dying; the impetuous charge; the steady and successful repulse; the loud call to repeated assault; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance ; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there may be in war and death ; — all these you have witnessed, but you wit- ness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its tcrwers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children and country- men in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions tor the issue of the combat, have presented you to- day with the sight of its whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you with a universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position appropriately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoy- ance to you, but your country's own means of distinction and defence.* All is peace; and God has granted you this sight of your country's happiness, ere you slumber in the grave. He has al- lowed you to behold and to partake the reward of your patriotic toils; and he has allowed us, your sons and country- men, to meet you here, and in the name of the present generation, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you ! But, alas! you are not all here! Time and the sword have thinned yom- ranks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge ! our eyes seek for you in vain amid this broken band. Y'ou are gathered to your fathers, and live only to your country in her gratefid re- membrance and your owm bright ex- ample. But let us not too much grieve, that you have met the common fate of men. Y^ou lived at least long enough to know that your w^ork had been nobly and successfully accomplished. Y'ou lived to see your country's indepen- dence established, and to sheathe your swords from war. On the light of Lib- erty you saw arise the light of Peace, like " another morn, Risen on mid-noon " ; and the sky on which you closed your eyes was cloudless. But ah ! Him ! the first great martyr in this great cause! Him! the premature victim of his own self-devoting heaill Him! the head of our civil councils, and the destined leader of our military bands, whom nothing brought hither but the unciuenchable fire of his own spirit! Him! cut off by Providence in 1 It ia necessary to inform those only wlio are unacquainted with the localities, tliat the United States Navy Yard at Cliarlestown it situated at the base of Bunker Hill. 128 THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. the hour of ovenvhelming anxiety and thick gloom ; falling ere he saw tlie star of his country rise; pouring out his generous blood like water, before he knew whether it would fertilize a land of freedom or of bondage 1 — how shall I strufrorle with the emotions that stifle the utterance of thy nanieli Our poor work may perish; but thine shall en- dure! This monument may moulder away; the solid ground it rests upon may sink down to a level with the sea ; but thy memory shall not fail ! Where- soever among men a heart shall be found that beats to the transports of patriotism and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim kiudi-ed with thy spirit ! But the scene amidst which we stand does not permit us to confine our thoughts or our sjonpathies to those fearless spirits who hazarded or lost their lives on this consecrated spot. We have the happiness to rejoice here in the presence of a most worthy repre- sentation of the sm-vivors of the whole Revolutionary army. Veterans! you are the remnant of many a well-fought field. You bring with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, from Yorktown, Cam- den, Bennington, and Saratoga. Vet- EKANS OF UALF A CENTUUY! wheu iu your youthful days you put every thing at hazard in your country's cause, good as that cause was, and sanguine as youth is, still your fondest hopes did not stretch onward to an horn* like this ! At a period to which you could not reasonably have expected to arrive, at a moment of national prosperity such as you could never have foreseen, you are now met here to enjoy the fellowship of old soldiers, and to receive the over- flowings of a universal gratitude. But your agitated countenances and your heaving breasts inform me that even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult of contending feelings rushes upon you. The images of the dead, as well as tlie persons of the living, present themselves before 1 See the North American Review, Vol. XLI. p. 242. you. The scene ovemhehns you. aiK^ I turn from it. May the Father of all mercies .smile upon j'our declining years, and bless them! And when you shall here have exchanged your embraces, when you shall once more have pressed the hands which have been so often ex- tended to give succor in adversity, or grasped in the exultation of victory, then look abroad upon this lovely land which your young valor defended, and mark the happiness with which it is filled; yea, look abroad upon the whole earth, and see what a name you have contributed to give to your country, and what a praise you have added to free- dom, and then rejoice in the sympathy and gratitude which beam upon your last days from the improved condition of mankind ! The occasion does not require of me any particular account of the battle of the 17th of June, 1775, nor any de- tailed narrative of the events which immediately preceded it. These are familiarly known to aU. In the prog- ress of the great and interesting con- troversy, Massachusetts and the tovm. of Boston had become early and marked objects of the displeasure of the British Parliament. This had been manifested ' in the act for altering the government of the Province, and in that for shut- ting up the port of Boston. Nothing sheds more honor on our early historj;, and nothing better shows how little the feelings and sentiments of the Colonies were known or regarded in England, than the impression which these meas- ures everyAvhere produced in America. It had been anticipated, that, while the Colonies in general would be terrified by the severity of the punishment in- flicted on ^lassachusetts, the other sea- ports would be governed by a mere spirit of gain; and that, as Boston w;is now cut off from all commerce, tlie un- expected advantage which this blow on her was calculated to confer on other towns woidd be greedily enjoyed. How miserably such reasoners deceived them- selves! IIow little they knew of the depth, and the sti'ength, and the in- THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 129 tenseness of that feeling of resistance to illegal acts of power, which possessed the whole American people! Every- where the unworthy boon was rejected with scorn. The fortunate occasion was seized, everywhere, to show to the whole world that the Colonies were swayed by no local interest, no partial interest, no selfish interest. The temp- tation to profit by the punishment of Boston was strongest to our neighbors of Salem. Yet Salem was precisely the place where this miserable proffer was spiu-ned, in a tone of the most lofty Belf-respect and the most indignant patriotism. " We are deeply affected," said its inhabitants, "with the sense of our public calamities; but the miseries that are now rapidly hastening on our brethren in the capital of the Province greatly excite our commiseration. By shutting up the port of Boston, some imagine that the course of trade might be tui'ned hither and to our benefit; but we must be dead to every idea of justice, lost to all feelings of humanity, could we indulge a thought to seize on wealth and raise our fortunes on the ruin of our suffering neighbors." These noble oentiments were not confined to our im- mediate vicinity. In that day of gen- eral affection and brotherhood, the blow given to Boston smote on every patriotic heart from one end of the country to the other. Virginia and the Carolinas, as well as Connecticut and New Hamp- shire, felt and proclaimed the cause to be their own. The Contineiital Con- gress, then holding its first session in Philadelphia, expressed its sjTupathy for the suffering inhabitants of Boston, and addresses were received from all quarters, assuring them that the cause was a common one, and should be met by common efforts and common sacri- fices. The Congress of ^Massachusetts responded to these assurances; and in an address to the Congress at Philadel- phia, bearing the official signature, per- haps among the last, of the immortal "Warren, notwithstanding the severity of its suffering and the magnitude of the dangers which threatened it, it was declared, that this Colony " is ready, at all times, to spend and to be spent in the cause of America." But the hour drew nigh which was to put professions to the proof, and to de- termine whether the authors of these mutual pledges were ready to seal them in blood. The tidings of Lexington and Concord had no sooner spread, than it was universally felt that the time was at last come for action. A spirit per- vaded all ranks, not transient, not bois- terous, but deep, solemn, determined, "totamque infu.sa per artus Mens agitat niolem, et magno se corpore miscet." War, on their own soil and at their own doors, was, indeed, a strange work to the yeomanry of New England; but their consciences were convinced of its necessity, their country called them to it, and they did not withhold themselves from the perilous trial. The ordinary occupations of life were abandoned; the plough was staid in the unfinished furrow; wives gave up their husbands, and mothers gave up their sons, to the battles of a civil war. Death might come, in honor, on the field; it might come, in disgrace, on the scaffold. For either and for both they were prepared. The sentiment of Quincy was full in their hearts. " Blandishments," said that distinguished son of genius and patriotism, "will not fascinate us, nor will threats of a halter intimidate ; for, under God, we are determined that, wheresoever, whensoever, or howsoever we shall be called to make our exit, we will die free men." The 17th of June saw the four New England Colonies standing here, side by side, to triumph or to fall together; and there was with them from that moment to the end of the war, what I hope will remain with them for ever, one cause, one countiy, one heart. The battle of Bunker Hill was at- tended with the most important effects beyond its immediate results as a mili- tary engagement. It created at once a state of open, public war. There could now be no longer a question of proceed- ing against individuals, as guilty of treason or rebellion. That fearful crisis 9 130 THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. was past. The appeal lay to the sword, and the onlj question was, whether tlie spirit and the resources of the people would hold out, till the object should be accomplished. Nor were its general consequences confined to our own coun- try. The previous proceedings of the Colonies, their appeals, resolutions, and addresses, had made their cause known to Europe. Without boasting, we may say, that in no age or country has the public cause been maintained with more force of argument, more power of illustration, or more of that persuasion which ex- cited feeling and elevated principle can alone bestow, than the Revolutionary state papers exhibit. These papers will for ever deserve to be studied, not only for the spirit which they breathe, but for the ability with which they were written. To this able vindication of their cause, the Colonies had now added a practical and severe proof of their own true de- votion to it, and given evidence also of the power which they could bring to its support. All now saw, that, if America fell, she would not fall without a strujr- gle. Men felt sympathy and regard, as well as surprise, when they beheld these infant states, remote, unkno^^Tl, un- aided, encounter the power of England, and, in the first considerable battle, leave more of tlieir enemies dead on the field, in proportion to the number of combatants, than had been recently known to fall in the wars of Europe. Information of these events, circu- lating throughout the world, at length laached the ears of one who now hears me.' He has not forgotten the emotion which the fame of Bunker Hill, and the aame of "Warren, excited in his youth- ful breast. Sir, we are assembled to commemo- rate the establishment of gr(;at public principles of liberty, and to do honor 1 Amonj; the earliest of tlic arranjrements for the celeliraiion of the 17th of June, 1825, was me invitation to General Lafayette to be pres- •,Dt; and he liad so timed his pro<,'ress through Jie other States as to return to Massachusetts in season for the great occasion. to the distinguished dead. Tlie occa- sion is too severe for eulogy of the liv- ing. But, Sir, your interesting relation to this country, the peculiar cu-cuni- stances which surround you and sur- round us, call on me to express the happiness which we derive from your presence and aid in this solemn com- memoration. Fortunate, fortunate man! with what measure of devotion will you not thank God for the circumstances of your ex- traordinary life! You are connected with both hemispheres and witli two generations. Heaven saw tit to ordain, that the electric spark of liberty should be conducted, through you, from the Xew World to the Old; and we, who are now here to perform tliis duty of patriotism, have all of us long ago re- ceived it in charge from our fathers to cherish your name and your virtues. You will account it an instance of your good fortune, Sir, that you crossed the seas to visit us at a time wliich enables you to be present at this solemnity. You now behold tlie field, the renown of which readied you in the heart of France, and caused a thrill in your ar- dent bosom. You see the lines of the little redoubt thro\Tn up by the incredi- ble diligence of Prescott; defended, to the last extremity, by his lion-hearted valor; and within whicli the corner- stone of our monument has now taken its position. You see where Warren feU, and where Parker, Gardner, Mc- Cleary, Moore, and other early patriots, fell with him. Those who survived that day, and whose lives have been pro- longed to the present hour, are now around you. Some of them you ha-'e knoA\Ti in the tiying scenes of the war. Behold I they now stretch forth their feeble arms to embrace you. Behold I they raise tlieir trembling voices to in- voke the blessing of God on you and yours for ever. Sir, you liave assisted as in laying the foundation of this structure. You have lieard us rehearse, witli our feeble com- mendation, tlie names of departed par triots. ^Monuments and eulogy belong ^ to the dead. "\Vo give them this day to THE BUNKER HILL MOXL'MENT. 131 Warren and his associates. Ou other occasions they have been given to your more immediate companions in arms, to "Washington, to Greene, to Gates, to Sullivan, and to Lincoln. AVe have become reluctant to grant these, our bighest and last honors, further. We would gladly hold them yet back from the little remnant of that immortal band. Sirits in caelum redeas. Illustri- ous as are yom- merits, yet far, O veiy far distant be the day, when any inscrip- tion shall bear your name, or any tongue pronounce its eulogy! The leading reflection to which this occasion seems to invite us, respects the great changes which have happened in the fifty years since the battle of Bunker Hill was fought. And it peculiarly mai'ks the character of the present age, that, in looking at these changes, and in estimating their eifect on our condition, we are obliged to consider, not what has been done in our own country only, but in others also. In these interesting times, while nations are makmg separate and individual advances in improvement, they make, too, a common progress; like vessels on a common tide, propelled by the gales at different rates, according to their several structure and management, but all moved forward by one mighty current, strong enough to bear onward whatever does not sink beneath it. A chief distinction of the present day is a community of opinions and knowl- edge amongst men in different nations, existing in a degi'ee heretofore unknown. Knowledge has, in our time, triumphed, and is triumphing, over distance, over difference of languages, over diversity of habits, over prejudice, and over big- otry. The civilized and Christian world is fast learning the great lesson, that dif- ference of nation does not imply neces- sary hostility, and that aU contact need not be war. The whole w'orld is becom- ing a common field for intellect to act in. Energy of mind, genius, power, wheresoever it exists, may speak out in any tongue, and the icorld will hear it. A great chord of sentiment and feeling runs through two continents, and vi- brates over both. Every breeze wafts intelligence from country to country; every wave rolls it; all give it forth, and all in turn receive it. There is a va^t commerce of ideas ; there are marts and exchanges for intellectual discoveries, and a wonderful fellowship of those individual intelligences w^hich make up the mind and opinion of the age. ^lind is the great lever of all things ; human thought is the process by which human ends are ultimately answered; and the diffusion of knowledge, so astonishmg in the last half-century, has rendered innmnerable minds, variously gifted by nature, competent to be competitors or fellow-workers on the theatre of intel- lectual operation. From these causes important improve- ments have taken place in the personal condition of individuals. Generally speaking, mankind are not only better fed and better clothed, but they are able also to enjoy more leisure ; they possess more refinement and more seK-respect. A superior tone of education, manners, and habits prevails. This remark, most true in its application to our own coun- try, is also partly true when apj^lied elsewhere. It is proved by the vastly augmented consumption of those articles of manufactm-e and of commerce which contribute to the comforts and the de- cencies of life; an augmentation which has far outrun the progress of popida- tion. And while the unexampled and almost incredible use of machuiery would seem to supply the place of labor, labor still finds its occupation and its reward; so wisely has Provi- dence adjusted men's wants and desirea to their condition and their capacity. Any adequate survey, however, of the progress made during the last half-ceu- tury in the polite and the mechanic arts, in machinery and manufactures, in com- merce and agriculture, in letters and m science, would require volumes. I must abstain wholly from these subjects, and turn for a moment to the contemplation of what has been done on the great question of politics and government. This is the master topic of the age ; and during the whole fifty years it bos in- 132 THE BUNKER HILL MOXUMENi. tensely occupied the thoughts of men. The nature of civil government, its ends and uses, hare been canvassed and investigated ; ancient ojiinions attacked and defended; new ideas recommended and resisted, by whatever power the mind of man could bring to the contro- versy. From the closet and the public halls the debate has been transferred to the field ; and the world has been shaken by wars of imexampled magnitude, and the greatest variety of fortune. A day of peace has at length succeeded; and now that the strife has subsided, and the smoke cleared away, we may begin to see what has actually been done, per- manently changing the state and condi- tion of human society. And, without dwelling on particular circumstances, it is most apparent, that, from the before- mentioned causes of augmented knowl- edge and improved individual condition, a real, substantial, and important change has taken place, and is taking place, highly favorable, on the whole, to hu- man liberty and human happiness. The gi-eat wheel of political revolution began to move in America. Here its rotation was guarded, regular, and safe. Transferred to the other continent, from unfortunate but natural causes, it re- ceived an irregular and violent impulse ; it whirled along with a fearful celerity ; till at length, like the chariot- wheels in the races of antiquity, it took fire from the rapidity of its own motion, and blazed onward, spreading conflagration and terror around. We learn from the result of this ex- periment, how fortunate was our own condition, and how admirably the char- acter of our people was calcidated for Betting the gi-eat example of popular governments. The possession of power did not turn the heads of the American people, for they had long been in the habit of exercising a great degi'ee of self-control. Although the paramount authority of the parent state existed over tiiem, yet a large field of legisla- tion had always been open to our Colo- nial assemblies. They were accustomed to representative bodies and the forms of free gcverumeut; they understood the doctrine of the di^-ision of powei among different branches, and the neces« sity of checks on each. The character of our countrjTuen, moreover, was sober, moral, and religious; and there was little in the change to shock their feelings of justice and humanity, or even to diiturb an honest prejudice. We had no do- mestic throne to overturn, no privileged orders to cast down, no violent changes of property to encounter. In the Ameri- can Revolution, no man sought or wished for more than to defend and enjoy his own. None hoped for plunder or for spoil. Rapacitj' was unkno\\'n to it; the axe was not among the instruments of its accomplishment ; and we aU know that it could not have lived a single day under any well-founded imputation of possessing a tendency adverse to the Christian religion. It need not surprise us, that, under circumstances less auspicious, political revolutions elsewhere, even when well intended, have terminated differently. It is, indeed, a great achievement, it is the master-work of the world, to estab- lish governments entirely popular on lasting fomidations; nor is it easy, in- deed, to introduce the popular principle at all into governments to which it has been altogether a stranger. It cannot be doubted, however, that Emope has come out of the contest, in which she has been so long engaged, with greatly superior knowledge, and, in many re- spects, in a highly improved condition. Whatever benefit has been acquired is likely to be retained, for it consists mainly in the acquisition of more en- liglitened ideas. And although king- doms and provinces may be wrested from the hands that hold them, in the same manner tliey were obtained; al- though ordinary and vulgar power may, in human affairs, be lost as it has been won; yet it is the glorious prerogative of the empire of knowledge, that what it gains it never loses. On the contrary, it increases by the multiple of its own power; all its ends become means; all its attainments, helps to new conquests. Its whole abundant harvest is but so much seed wheat, and nothing has limited, aud THE BU nothing can limit, the amount of < product. Under the influence of this ra^ creasing knowledge, tlie people h gun, in all forms of governm think and to reason, on affairs ot Kegarding government as an insti for the public good, they dema , knowledge of its operations, and a ticiputiou in its exercise. A call for , representative system, wherever it is i , enjoyed, and where there is already i i. telligence enough to estimate itsvahui is perseveringly nuule. Wliere men ma r speak out, they demand it; where tht bayonet is at theii- throats, they pray for it. "When Louis the Fourteenth said, " I am the state," he expressed the essence of the doctrine of unlimited power. By the rules of that system, the people are / disconnected from the state ; they are its subjects; it is their lord. These ideas, foLuided in the love of power, and long supported by the excess and the abuse of it, are yielding, in our age, to other opinions; and the civilized world seems at last to be proceeding to the conviction of that fundamental and manifest truth, that the powers of government are but a trust, and that they cannot be lawfidly exercised but for the good of the com- munity. As knowledge is more and more extended, this conviction become more and more general. Knowledge in truth, is the gi-eat sun in the firma ment. Life and power are scatters with all its beams. The prayer of th Grecian champion, when enveloped h unnatural clouds and darkness, is thi appropriate political supplication for the people of every country not yet' blessed with free institutions: — " Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore. Give me to SEii, — and Ajax asks no more." We may hope that the growing influ- ence of enlightened sentiment will pro- iLote the permanent peace of the world. Wars to ma'ntain family alliances, to uphold or to cast down dynasties, and to regulate successions to thrones, which have occupied so much room in the his- tory of modern times, if not less likely to happen at all, will be less likely to be- rU-MEN'T. lains stretch out, in beauty, to of civilized man, and at the bidding of the voice of political the waters of darkness retire. ., now, let us indulge an honest ition in the conviction of the ben- .vhich the example of our country produced, and is likely to produce, 1 human freedom and human happi- ess. Let us endeavor to comprehend n all its magnitude, and to feel in all its importance, the part assigned to us in the great drama of human affairs. We are placed at the head of the system of representative and popular govern- ments. Thus far our example shows that such governments are compatible, not only with respectability and power, but with repose, with peace, with secu- rity of personal rights, with good laws, and a just administration. We are not propagandists. "NATierever other systems are preferred, either as being thought better in themselves, or as better suited to existing condition, we leave the preference to be enjoyed. Our history hitherto proves, however, that the popular form is practicable, and that with wisdom and knowledire men may govern themselves; and the duly incumbent on us is, to preserve the con- sistency of this cheering example, and take care that nothing may weaken its \uthority with the world. If, in our ;ase, the representative system ultimate- y fail, popular governments must be ironounced impossible. No combina- ion of circumstances more favorable ,0 the experiment can ever be expected to occur. The last hopes of mankind, therefore, rest with us; and if it should be proclaimed, that our example had become an argmnent against the experi- ment, the knell of jwiiular liberty would be sounded throughout the earth. These are excitements to duty; but they are not suggestions of doubt. Our history and our condition, all that is gone before us, and all that surrounds us, authorize the belief, that popular governments, tiiough subject to occa- sional variations, in form perhaps not ahvays for the better, may yet, m their \ THE BUNKER HILL :\rONUMENT. 135 general character, be as durable and permanent as other systems. We know, indeed, that in our country any otlier is impossible. The principle of free gov- ernments adheres to the Ameiican soil. It is bedded iu it, immovable as its mountains. And let the sacred obligations which have devolved on this generation, and on lis, sink deep into our hearts. Those %\-ho established our liberty and our gov- errmient are daily dropping from among us. The great trust now descends to new hands. Let us apply ourselves to tliat which is presented to us, as our appropriate object. We can win no lau- rels iu a war for independence. Earlier and worthier hands have gathered them all. Xor are there places for us by the side of Solon, and Alfred, and other founders of states. Our fathers have filled them. But there remains to us a gi-eat duty of defence and preservation ; and there is opened to us, also, a noble pursuit, to which the spirit of the times strongly invites us. Our proper business is improvement. Let our age be the age of improvement. In a day ol peace, let us advance the arts of peace and the works of peace. Let us develop the re- ^ som'ces of our land, call forth its pow- ers, build up its institutions, promote all its great interests, and see whether we also, in our day and generation, may not perform something worthy to be re- membered. Let us cultivate a true spirit of union and harmony. In pursuing the gi-eat objects which our condition points out to us, let us act under a settled con- viction, and an habitual feeling, that these twenty-four States are one coun- try. Let our conceptions be enlarged to the circle of our duties. Let us extend our ideas over the whole of the vast field in which we are called to act. Let our object be, our country, our whole COUNTRY, AND NOTHING BUT OUR COUNTRY. And, by the blessing of God, may that country itself become a vast and splendid monument, not of op- pression and terror, but of Wisdom, of Peace, and of Liberty, upon which the world may gaze with admiration for everl THE COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. AN ADDRESS DELIVERED ON BUNKER HILL, ON THE 17th OF JUNE, 1343, ON OCCASION OF THE COMPLETION OF THE MONL^ilENT. \ly tlic introductory note to the preceding Address, a brief account is given of the origin and progress of the measures adopted for the erection of the Bunlcer Hill Monu- ment, down to the time of laj'ing tlie cor- ner-stone, compiled from Mr. Frothingham's History of the Siege of Boston. Tiie same vahiable work (pp. 345-352) relates the ob- stacles which presented themselves to the rapid execution of the design, and the means by which they were overcome. In this nar- rative, Mr. Frothingham has done justice to the efforts and exertions of the successive boards of direction and officers of the Asso- ciation, to the skill and disinterestedness of the architect, to the liberality of distin- guished individuals, to the public spirit of the Massachusetts Charitable Mechanic As- sociation, in promoting a renewed subscrip- tion, and to the patriotic zeal of the ladies of Boston and the vicinity, in holding a most successful fair. As it would be diffi- cult farther to condense the information contained in this interesting sununar^', we must refer the reader to Mr. Frothingham's work for an adequate account of the causes which delayed the completion of the monu- ment for nearly seventeen years, and of the resources and exertions by which the de- sired end was finally attained. The last «tone was raised to its place on the morning / of the 23d of July, 1842. It was determined V)y the directors of the Association, that the completion of the work should be celebrated in a manner not less imposing than that in which the laying of the corner-stone had been celebrated, seven- teen years before. The co-operation of Mr. Webster was again invited, and, notwith- standing the pressure of his engagements as Secretary of State at Washington, was again iiatriotically yielded. Many circimi- Btances conspired to increase the interest of the occasion. The completion of the monu- ment had been long delayed, but in the in- terval the subject had been kept much before the ptiblic minpose it would be difficult, in a military point of view, to ascribe to the leaders on either side any just motive for the engagement which followed. On the one hand, it could not have been very important to the Americans to at- tempt to hem the British within the town, by advancing one single post a quarter of a mile; while, on the other hand, if the British found it essential to dislodge the American troops, they had it in their power at no expense of life. By moving up their ships and batteries, they could have completely cut off all communication with the mainland over the Neck, and the forces in the redoubt would have been reduced to a state of famine in forty-eight hours. But that was not the day for any such consideration on either side ! Both par- ties were anxious to try the strength of their arms. The pride of England would not permit the rebels, as she termed them, to defy her to the teeth; and, without for a moment calculating the cost, the British general determined to destroy the fort immediately. On the other side, Prescott and his gallant fol- lowers longed and thirsted for a decisive trial of strength and of courage. They wished a battle, and wished it at once. And this is the true secret of the move- ments on this hill. I wiU not attempt to describe that battle. The cannonading; the landing of the British ; their advance ; the cool- ness with which the charge was met; the repulse; the second attack; the seo- ond repulse; the burning of Charles- town; and, finally, the closing assault, and the slow retreat of tlie Americans, — the history of all these is familiar. But the consequences of the battle of Bunker Hill were greater than' those of any ordinary conflict, although between armies of far greater force, and termi- nating with more immediate advantage on the one side or the other. It was the first gi-eat battle of the Revolution ; and not only the first blow, but the blow 142 COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT which determined the contest. It did not, indeed, put an end to tlie war, but in the then existing hostile state of feel- ing, the diflculties could only be re- ferred to the arbitration of the .^word. And one tiling is cert ain : that after the New England troops had shown them- selves able to face and repulse the regu- lars, it, was decided that peace never cculi be established, but upon the basis of the independence of the Colonies. WTien the sun of that day went down, the e'»^'nt of Independence •was no longer doubtful. In a few days Washington heard of the battle, and he inquired if the militia had stood the fire of the reg- ulars. "When told that they had not only stood that fire, but reserved their own tin the enemy was within eight rods, and then poured it in with tre- mendous effect, " Then," exclaimed he, " the liberties of the country are safe! " The consequences of this battle were ]ust of the same importance as the Rev- olution itself. If there was nothing of value in the principles of the American Revolution, then there is nothing valuable iu tlje battle of Bunker Hill and its conse- quences. But if the Revolution was an era in the history of man favorable to human happiness, if it was an event which marked the progress of man all over the world from despotism to lib- erty, then this monument is not raised without cause. Then the battle of Bunker Ilill is not an event undeserving celebrations, commemorations, and re- joicings, now and in all coining times. What, then, is the true and peculiar piinciple of the American Revolution, and of the systems of government which it luis confirmed and established? The truth is, that the American Revolution was not caused by the instantaneous dis- covery of principles of government be- fore unheard of, or the practical adoption of political ideas such as had never be- fore entered into the minds of men. It was but the full development of princi- ples of government, forms of society, and political sentiments, the origin of all which lay back two centuries in Eng- lish and American history. The discovery of America, its colo- nization by the nations of Europe, the history and progi-ess of the colonies, from their establishment to the time when the principal of them threw off their allegiance to the respective statea by which they had been planted, and fomided governments of their own, con- stitute one of the most interesting por- tions of the annals of man. These events occupied three hundred years; during wliich period civilization and knowledge made steady progress in the Old World; so that Europe, at the com- mencement of the nineteenth century, had become gi-eatly changed from that Eurofje which began the colonization of America at the close of the fifteenth, or the commencement of the sixteenth. And what is most material to my pres- ent purpose is, that in the progress of the first of these centuries, that is to say, from the discovery of America to the settlements of Yii'ginia and ]\Iassa- chusetts, political and religious events took place, which most materially af fected the state of society and the senti- ments of mankind, especially in England and in parts of Continental Europe. After a few feeble and unsuccessful ef- forts by England, under Heniy the Seventh, to plant colonies in America, no designs of that kind were prosecuted for a long period, either by the English government or any of its subjects. AVithout inquiring into the causes of this delay, its consequences are suffi- ciently clear and striking. England, in this lapse of a centmy, unknown to her- self, but under the providence of God and the influence of events, was fitting herself for the work of colonizing North America, on such principles, and by such men, as should spread the English name and English blood, in time, over a great jiortion of the AVestern hemisphere. The commercial spirit was greatly fos- tered by several laws passed in the reign of Henry the Seventh; and in the same reign encouragement was given to arts and manufactures in the eastern coun- ties, and some not unimportant modifi- cations of the feudal system took place, by allowing the breaking of entails. COMPLETION OF THE BUNKEK HILL MONUMENT. 14? These autl other measures, and other occurrences, were making way for a new class of society to emerge, and show it- self, in a military and feudal age; a middle class, between the barons or great landholders and the retainers of the crown, on the one side, and the ten- ants of the crown and barons, and agri- cultural and other laborers, on the otlier Bide. With tlie rise and growth of this new class of society, not only did com- merce and the arts increase, but better education, a greater degree of knowl- edge, juster notions of the true ends of government, and sentiments favorable to civil liberty, began to spread abroad, and become more and more common. But the plants sprmging from these seeds were of slow growth. The char- acter of English society had indeed be- gun to midergo a change ; but changes of national character are ordinarily the work of time. Operative causes were, however, evidently in existence, and sure to produce, ultimately, their proper effect. From the accession of Henry the Seventh to the breaking out of the civil wars, England enjoyed much gi-eater exemption from war, foreig-n and do- mestic, than for a long period before, and during the controversy between the houses of York and Lancaster. These years of peace were favorable to com- merce and the arts. Commerce and the arts augmented general and individual knowledge; and knowledge is the only fountain, both of the love and the prin- ciples of human liberty. Other powerful causes soon came into active play. The Reformation of Luther broke out, kindling up the minds of men afresh, leading to new habits of thought, and awakening in individuals energies before unknown even to themselves. The religious controversies of this period changed society, as well as religion; in- deed, it would be easy to prove, if this occasion were proper for it, that they changed society to a considerable ex- tent, where they did not change the re- ligion of the state. They changed man himself, in his modes of thought, his consciousness of his own powers, and his desu-e of intellectual attainment. The spirit of commercial and foreign adventure, therefore, on the one hand, which had gained so mucli strength and influence since the time of the discovei^y of America, and, on the other, the asser- tion and maintenance of religious lib- erty, having their source indeed in the Reformation, but continued, diversified, and constantly strengthened by the sub- sequent divisions of sentiment and opin- ion among the Reformers them.selvea, and this love of religious liberty draw- ing after it, or bringing along with it, aa it always does, an ardent devotion to the principle of civil liberty also, w^ere the powerful influences under which charac- ter was formed, and men trained, for the gi-eat work of introducing English civ- ilization, English law, and, what is more than all, Anglo-Saxon blood, into the wilderness of North America. Raleigh and his companions may be considered as the creatures, principally, of the first of these causes. High-spirited, full of the love of personal adventure, excited, too, in some degree, by the hopes of sudden riches from the discovery of mines of the precious metals, and not unwilling to diversify tlie labors of set- tling a colony with occasional cruising against the Spaniards in the West In- dian seas, they crossed and recrossed tlie ocean, with a frequency which surprises us, when we consider the state of navi- gation, and which evinces a most daring spirit. The other cause peopled New England. The INIaj-flower sought oui- shores under no high-wrought spirit of conmiercia) adventure, no love of gold, no mixture of purpose warlike or hostile to any hu- man being. Like the dove from the ark, she had put forth only to find rest. Sol- emn supplications on the shore of the sea, in Holland, had invoked for her, at her departure, the blessings of Provi- dence. The stars which guided her were the unobscured constellations of civil and religious liberty. Her deck was the altar of the living God. Fervent prayers on bended knees mingled, morning and evening, with the voices of ocean, and the sighing of the wind in her shrouds. Every prosperous breeze, which, gently 144 COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. swelling her sails, helped the Pilgrims onward in their course, awoke new an- thems of praise; and when the elements were wrought into fury, neither the tem- pest, tossing their fragile bark like a feather, nor the darkness and howling of the midnight storm, ever disturbed, in man or woman, the firm and settled purpose of their souls, to undergo all, and to do all, that the meekest patience, the boldest resolution, and the highest trust in God, could enable human beings to suffer or to perform. Some differences may, doubtless, be traced at this day between the descend- ants of the early colonists of "S'irginia and those of New England, owing to the different influences and different circumstances under which the respec- tive settlements were made; but only enough to create a pleasing variety in the midst of a general family resem- blance. " Facies, non omnibus una. Nee diversa tamen, qualem decet esse sororum." But the habits, sentiments, and objects of both soon became modified by local causes, growing out of their condition in the Kew World ; and as this condi- tion was essentially alike in both, and as both at once adopted the same gen- eral rules and principles of English juris- prudence, and became accustomed to the authority of representative bodies, these differences gradually diminished. They disappeared by the progi-ess of time, and ' the influence of intercourse. The neces- sity of some degi"ee of union and co-op- eration to defend themselves against the savage tribes, tended to excite in them mutual respect and regard. They fought together in the wars against France. The gi-eat and common cause of the Revolu- tion bound them to one another by new links of brotherhood ; and at length the present constitution of government united them happily and gloriously, to form the great republic of the world, and bound up their interests and for- tunes, till the whole earth sees that there is now for them, in present possession as well as in future hope, but "One Country, One Constitution, and One Destiny." The colonization of the tropical legion, and the whole of the southern parts oi the continent, by Spain and Portugal, was conducted on other principles, un- der the influence of other motives, and followed by far different consequences. From the time of its discovery, the Spanish government pushed fonvard its settlements in America, not only with vigor, but with eagerness ; so that long before the first permanent English set- tlement had been accomplished in what is now the United States, Spain had conquered Mexico, Peru, and Chili, and stretched her power over nearly all the territory she ever acquired on this con- tinent. The rapidity of these conquests is to be ascribed in a great degree to the eagerness, not to say the rapacity, of those numerous bands of adveuturei-s, who were stimulated by individual in- terests and piivate hopes to subdue im- mense regions, and take possession of them in the name of the crown of Spain. The mines of gold and silver were the incitements to these efforts, and accord- ingly settlements were generally made, and Spanish authority established im- mediately on the subjugation of terri- tory, that the native population might be set to work by their new Spanish masters in the mines. From these facts, the love of gold — gold, not produced by industry, nor accumulated by commerce, but gold dug from its native bed in tlie bowels of the earth, and that earth rav- ished from its rightful possessors by ev- ery possible degree of enormity, cruelty, and crime — was long the governing passion in Spanish wars and Spanish settlements in America. Even Colunilius himself did not wholly escape the influ- ence of this base motive. In his early voyages we find him passing from island to island, inquiring eveiywhere for gold; as if God had ojiened the New A\'orld to the knowledge of the Old, only to gratify a passion equally senseless and sordid, and to offer up millions of an unoffend- ing race of men to the destruction of the sword, sharpened both by cruelty and rapacity. And yet Columbus was far above his age and country. Enthusi- astic, indeed, but sober, religious, and COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 145 magnanimous; born to great things and capable of high sentiments, as his noble discourse before Ferdinand and Isabella, as well as the wliole liistory of his life, shows. Probably he sacrificed much to the known sentiments of otliers, and ad- dressed to his followers motives likely to influence them. At the same time, it is evident that he himself looked upon the world which he discovered as a world of wealth, all ready to be seized and en- joyed. The conquerors and the European settlers of Spanish America were mainly military commandei's and common sol- diers. The monarchy of Spain was not transferred to this hemisphere, but it acted in it, as it acted at home, through its ordinary means, and its true repre- sentative, military force. The robbery and destruction of the native race was the achievement of standing armies, in the right of the king, and by his au- thority, fighting in his name, for the aggrandizement of his power and the ex- tension of his prerogatives, with military ideas under arbitrary maxims, — a por- tion of that dreadful instrumentality by which a perfect despotism governs a people. As there was no liberty in Spain, how could liberty be transmitted to Spanish colonies? The colonists of English America were of the people, and a people already free. They were of the middle, indus- trious, and ab-eady prosperous class, the inhabitants of commercial and manu- facturing cities, among whom liberty first revived and respired, after a sleep of a thousand years in the bosom of the Dark Ages. Spain descended on the New World in the armed and terrible image of her monarchy and her soldieiy ; England approached it in the winning and popular garb of personal rights, public protection, and civil freedom. England transplanted liberty to Amer- ica; Spain transplanted power. Eng- land, through the agency of private companies and the efforts of individuals, colonized this part of North America by industrious individuals, making their own way in the wilderness, defending themselves against the savages, recog- nizing their right to the soil, and with a general honest purpose of introducing knowledge as well as Christianity among tliem. Spain stooped on South America, like a vulture on its prey. Eveiy thing was force. Territories were acquired by fire and sword. Cities were destroyed by fire and sword. Hundreds of thou- sands of human beings fell by fire and sword. Even conversion to Christianity was attempted by fire and sword. Behold, then, fellow-citizens, the dif- ference resulting from the operation of the two princijiles! Here, to-day, on the summit of Bunker Hill, and at the foot of this monument, behold the dif- ference ! I woidd that the fiity thousand voices present could proclaim it with a shout which shoidd be heard over the globe. Our inheritance was of liberty, secured and reg'ulated by law, and en- lightened by religion and knowledge; that of South America was of power, stern, unrelenting, tyrannical, militaiy power. And now look to the conse- quences of the two principles on the general and aggi'egate happiness of the himian race. Behold the results, in all the regions conquered by Cortez and Pizarro, and the contrasted results here. I suppose the territoiy of the United States may amount to one eighth, or one tenth, of that colonized by Spain on this continent; and yet in all that vast region there are but between one and two millions of people of Euro- pean color and European blood, while in the United States there are four- teen millions who rejoice in their de- scent from the people of the more noi'thern part of Europe. But we may follow the difference in the original principle of colonization, and in its character and objects, still further. We must look to moral and intellectual residts; we must consider consequences, not only as they show themselves in hastening or retarding the increase of population and the supply of physical wants, but in their civilization, imiirovement, and happiness. We must inquire what progress has been made in the true science of liberty, in the knowledge of the great principles of self- 10 ]46 COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. government, and in the progress of man, as a social, moral, and religious being. I •would not -^Nillingly say any thing on this occasion discouiteous to the new governments founded on the demolition of the power of the Spanish monarchy. They are yet on their trial, and I hope for a favorable result. But truth, sacred truth, and fidelity to the cause of civil liberty, compel me to say, that hitherto they have discovered quite too much of the spirit of that monarchy from which they separated themselves. Quite too frequent resort is made to military force ; and quite too much of the substance of the people is consumed in maintaining armies, not for defence against foi'eign aggi'ession, but for enforcing obedience to domestic authority. Standing armies are the oppressive instruments for gov- erning the people, in the hands of heredi- tary and arbitrary monarchs. A military republic, a government founded on mock elections and supported only by the sword, is a movement indeed, but a retrogi-ade and disastrous movement, from the reg- ular and old-fashioned monarchical sys- tems. If men would enjoy the blessings of republican government, they must gov- ern themselves by reason, by mutual coun- sel and consultation, by a sense and feeling of general interest, and by the acquies- cence of the minority in the will of the majority, properly expressed ; and, above all, the military must be kept, according to the language of our Bill of Riglits, in strict suboi-dination to the civil author- ity. Wherever this lesson is not both learned and practised, there can be no political freedom. Absurd, preposter- ous is it, a scoff and a satire on free forms of constitutional liberty, for flames of government to be prescribed by military leaders, and the right of suffrage to be exercised at the point of the sword. Making all allowance for situation and climate, it cannot be doubted by intelligent minds, that the difference now existing between North and South America is justly attributable, in a great degree, to political institutions in the Old World and in the New. And how broad that difference is ! Suppose an assembly, in one of the valleys or on Ihe side of one of the mountains of the southern half of the hemisphere, to be held, this day, in the neighborhood of a large city; — what would be the scene presented? Yonder is a volcano, flam- ing and smoking, but shedding no light, moral or intellectual. At its foot is the mine, sometimes yielding, perhaps, large gains to capital, but in which labor ig destined to eternal and unrequited tjil, and followed only by penury and beg. gary. The city is filled with armed men ; not a free people, armed and com- ing forth voluntarily to rejoice in a public festivity, but hireling troops, supported by forced loans, excessive impositions on commerce, or taxes wrung from a half- fed and a half-clothed population. For the great there are palaces covered with gold; for tlie poor there are hovels of the meanest sort. There is an ecclesias- tical hierarchy, enjoying the wealth of princes; but there are no means of edu- cation for the people. Do public im- provements favor intercourse between place and place? So far from this, thu traveller cannot pass from town to town, without danger, every mile, of robbery and assassination. I would not over- charge or exaggerate this picture; but its principal features are all too truly sketched. And how does it contrast with the scene now actually before us? Look round upon these fields; they are ver- dant and beautiful, well cultivated, and at this moment loaded with the riches of the early harvest. The hands which till them are tliose of the free owners of the soil, enjoying equal rights, and pro- tected by law from oppression and tyr- anny. Look to the thousand vessels in our sight, filling the harbor, or covering the neighboring sea. They are the vehicles of a profitable commerce, car- ried on by men who know that the profits of their hardy enterprise, when they make them, are their own; and this commerce is encouraged and regulated by wise laws, and defended, when need be, by the valor and jxit riot ism of the country. Look to that fair city, tlie abode of so much diffused wealth. «o COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 147 much general happiness and comfort, BO much personal independence, and so much general knowledge, and not un- distinguislird, I may be permitted to add, lor hospitality and social refine- ment. She fears no forced contribu- tions, no siege or sacking from military leaders of rival factions. The hundred temples in which her citizens worship God are i u no danger of .sacrilege. The regular administration of the laws en- counters no obstacle. The long proces- sions of children and youth, which you see this day, issuing by thousands from her free schools, pi'ove the care and anxiety with which a popular govern- ment provides for the education and morals of the people. Everywhere there is order; everywhere there is security. Everywhere the law reaches to the highest and reaches to the lowest, to protect all in their rights, and to re- strain all from wrong; and over all hovers liberty, — that liberty for which our fathers fought and fell on this very spot, with her eye ever watchful, and her eagle wing ever wide outspread. The colonies of Spain, from their origin to their end, were subject to the sovereign authority of the motlier coun- try. Their government, as well as their commerce, was a strict home monopoly. If we add to this the established usage of filling important posts in the admin- istration of the colonies exclusively by natives of Old Spain, thus cutting off for ever all hopes of honorable prefer- ment from every man born in the West- ern hemisphere, causes enough rise up before us at once to account fully for the subsequent history and character of these provinces. The viceroys and pro- vincial governors of Spain were never at home in their governments in America. They did not feel that they were of the people whom they governed. Their ofiicial character and employment have a good deal of resemblance to those of the proconsuls of Rome, in Asia, Sicily, and Gaul ; but obviously no resemblance to thoie of Carver and Winthrop, and very little to those of the governors of Virginia after that Colony had estab- lished a popular House of Burgesses. The English colonists in America, generally speaking, wei-e men who were seeking new homes in a new world. They biought with them their families and all that was most dear to them. This was especially the case with the colonists of Plymouth and Massachu- setts. Many of them were educated men, and all possessed their full share, according to their social condition, of the knowledge and attainments of that age. The distinctive characteristic of their settlement is the introduction of the civilization of Europe into a wil- derness, without bringing with it the political institutions of Europe. The arts, sciences, and literature of England came over with the settlers. That great portion of the common law which regu- lates tlie social and personal relations and conduct of men, came also. The jury came : the habeas corpus came ; the tes- tamentary power came; and the law of inheritance and descent came also, except that part of it which recognizes the rights of primogeniture, which either did not come at all, or soon gave way to the rule of equal partition of e.states among chil- dren. But the monarchy did not come, nor the aristocracy, nor the church, as an estate of the realm. Political insti- tutions were to be framed anew, such as should be adapted to the state of things. But it could not be doubtful what sliould be the nature and character of these in- stitutions. A general social equality prevailed among the settlers, and an equality of political rights seemed the natural, if not the necessary conse- quence. After forty years of revolution, violence, and war, the people of France have placed at the head of the funda- mental instrument of their government, as the great boon obtained by all their sufferings and sacrifices, the declaration that all Frenchmen are equal before the law. What France has reached only by the expenditure of so much blood and treasure, and the perpetration of so much crime, the English colonists obtained by simply changing their place, carrying with them the intellectual and moral culture of Europe, and the personal and social relations to which they were accus- 148 COMPLETION OF THE PUNKER HILL MONUMENT. tomed, but leaving behind their polit- ical institutions. It has been said with much vivacity, that the felicity of the American colonists consisted in their es- cape from the past. This is true so far as respects political establishments, but no further. They brought with them a full portion of all the riches of the past, in science, in art, in morals, religion, and literature. The Bible came with them. And it is not to be doubted, that to the free and universal reading of the Bible, in that age, men were much in- debted for right views of civil libertj-. The Bible is a book of faith, and a book of doctrine, and a book of morals, and a book of religion, of especial reve- lation from God ; but it is also a book which teaches man his own individual responsibility, his own dignity, and his equality with his fellow-man. Bacon and Locke, and Shakspeare and Milton, also came with the colonists. It was the object of the first settlers to form new political systems, but all tiiat belonged to cultivated man, to fam- ily, to neigliborhood, to social relations, accompanied them. In the Doric phrase of one of our own historians, " they came to settle on bare creation"; but their settlement in tlie wilderness, never- theless, was not a lodgement of nomadic tribes, a mere resting-place of roaming savages. It was the beginning of a per- manent community, the fixed residence of cultivated men. Kot only was Eng- lish literatui'e read, but English, good Englisli, was spoken and written, before the axe liad made way to let in the sun upon the habitations and fields of Ply- moutli and IMassachusetts. And what- ever may be said to the contrary, a corrf'ct use of the Englisli language is, at tliis day, more general througliuut the United States, than it is throughout England herself. But another grand cluiracterislic is, that, in the English colonies, political affairs were left to be managed by the colonists themselves. This is anotiier fact wholly di.stinguishing them in cliar- acter, as it luis distinguished them in fortune, from tlic colonists of Spain. Here lies the foundation of that expe- rience in self-government, whicn Las preserved order, and security, and reg- ularity, amidst the play of pop^dar insti- tutions. Home government was the secret of the prosperity of the Xorth American settlements. The more dis- tinguished of the New England colonists, with a most remarkable sagacity and a long-sighted reach into futurity, refused to come to America unless they could bring with them charters providing for the administration of their affairs in this country.! They saw from the first the evils of being governed in the Xuw "World by a power fixed in the Old. Acknowledging the general superiority of the crown, they still insisted on the right of passing local laws, and of local administration. And history teaches us the justice and the value of this deter- mination ill the example of Virginia. The early attempts to settle that Colony failed, sometimes with the most mt-lan- choly and fatal consequences, from want of knowledge, care, and attention on the 2^art of those who had tlie charge of their aifairs in England; and it was only after the issuing of the third charter, that its prosperity fairlj- commenced. The cause was, that bj' that tliird charter the people of Virginia, for by this time they deserved to be so called, were allowed to constitute and estab- lish the first popular represenkitive assembly which ever convened on this continent, the Virginia House of Bur- gesses. The great elements, then, of the American sj'stera of government, origi- nally introduced by the colonists, and whicli were early in operation, and ready to be developed, more and more, as the progress of events should justify or de- mand, were, — Escape from the existing political sys- tems of Europe, including iis religious liieraichios, but the continued possession and enjoyment of its science and arts, its literature, and its manners; Home government, or the power of 1 See file " Hcoords of tlie Conipanv of the JIass;iituisett.« Buy in New Englaiul," as pub- lished in the third volume of the Transactions of the American Autiiiuariaii Society, pp. 47-50. COMrLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 149 making in the colony the municipal laws which were to govern it; Equality of rights ; Representative assemblies, or forms of government founded on popular elec- tioi:s. Few topics are more inviting, or more fit for philosophical discussion, than the effect on the happiness of mankind of institutions founded upon these princi- ples; or, in other words, the influence of the New World upon the Old. Her obligations to Europe for science and art, laws, literature, and manners, America acknowledges as she ought, with respect and gratitude. The people of the United States, descendants of the English stock, grateful for the treasures of knowledge derived from their English ancestors, admit also, with thanks and filial regard, that among those ancestors, under the culture of Hampden and Syd- ney and other assiduous friends, tliat seed of popular liberty first germinated, ■which on our soil has shot up to its full height, until its branches overshadow all the land. But America has not failed to make returns. If she has not wholly cancelled the obligation, or equalled it by others of like weight, she has, at least, made respectable advances towards repaying the debt. And she admits, that, stand- ing in the midst of civilized nations, and in a civilized age, a nation among na- tions, thei"e is a high part which she is expected to act, for the general advance- ment of human interests and human welfare. American mines have filled the mints of Europe with the precious metals. The productions of the American soil and climate have poured out their abun- dance of luxuries for the tables of the rich, and of necessaries for the suste- nance of the poor. Birds and animals of beauty and value have been added to the European stocks; and transplantations from the unequalled riches of our forests have mingled themselves profusely with the elms, and ashes, and Druidical oaks of England. America has made contributions to Euroj^e far more important. Who can estimate the amount, or the value, oi the augmentation of tlie commerce of the world that has resulted from Amer- ica? Who can imagine to himself what would now be the shock to the East- ern Continent, if the Atlantic were no loneer traversnble, or if there were no longer American productions, or Amer- ican markets? But America exercises influences, or holds out examples, for the considera- tion of the Old World, of a much higher, because they are of a moral and political character. America has furnished to Europe proof of the fact, that popular in.stitntions, founded on equality and the principle of representation, are capable of maintain- ing governments, able to secure the rights of person, property, and reputa- tion. America has proved that it is practi cable to elevate the mass of mankind, — that portion which in Europe is called the laboring, or lower class, — to raise them to self-respect, to make them competent to act a part in the great right and great duty of self-government; and she has proved that this may be done by education and the diffusion of knowl- edge. She holds out an example, a thou- sand times more encouraging than ever was presented before, to those nine tenths of the human i-ace who are born without hereditary fortune or hereditary rank. America has furnished to the world the character of ^Vashington! And if our American institutions had done nothing else, that alone would have entitled them to the respect of man- kind. Washington! "First in war, first in peace, and first in the hearts of his countrymen!" Washington is all our own! The enthusiastic veneration and regard in which the people of the United States hold him, prove them to be wor- thy of such a countryman; while his reputation abroad reflects the highest honor on his countiy. I would cheer- fully put the question to-day to the intelligence of Europe and the world, what character of the century, upon the 150 COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONTTMENT. whole, stands out in the relief of his- tory, most pure, most respectable, most sublime; and I doubt not, that, by a suffrage approaching to unanimity, the answer would b.e Washington! 'J"he structure now standing before us, by its uprightness, its solidity, its dura- bility, is no unfit emblem of his char- acter. His public virtues and public principles were as firm as the earth on Avjiich it stands; his personal motives, as pure as the serene heaven in which its summit is lost. Hut, indeed, though a fit, it is an inadequate emblem. Tow- ering high above the column which our hands have builded, beheld, not by the inhabitants of a single city or a single State, but by all the families of man, ascends the colossal grandeur of the character and life of Washington. In all the constituents of the one, in all the acts of the other, in all its titles to im- mortal love, admiration, and renown, it is an American production. It is the embodiment and vindication of our Transatlantic liberty. Born upon our soil, of parents also born upon it; never for a moment having had sight of the Old World; instructed, according to the modes of his time, only in the spare, plain, but wholesome elementaiy knowl- edge which our institutions provide for the children of the people; growing up beneath and penetrated by the genuine influences of American society; living from infancy to manhood and age amidst our expanding, but not luxurious civilization ; partaking in our great des- tiny of labor, our long contest with un- reclaimed nature and uncivilized man, our agony of glory, the war of Indepen- dence, our great victory of peace, the formation of the Union, and the es- tablislunent of the Constitution, — he is all, all our own ! Washington is ours. That crowded and glorious life, " Wlicre multitudes of virtues passed along, Eadi pressing foremost, in the mighty throng Anildtious to be seen, then making room For greater multitudes that were to come," — that life was the life of an American citizen. 1 rlaim liiiu for America. In 'all the perils, i' every darkened moment of thw state, ir. the midst of the reproaches of enemies and the misgiving of friends, I turn to that transcendent name for cour- age and for consolation. To him who denies or doubts whether our fen'id lib- erty can be combined with law, with order, with the security of property, with the pursuits and advancement of happi- ness; to him who denies that our forms of government are capable of producing exaltation of soul, and the passion of true glory; to him who denies that we have contributed any thing to the stock of great lessons and great examples; — to all these I reply by pointing to Wash- ington ! And now, friends and fellow-citizens, it is time to bring this discourse to a close. We have indulged in gratifying recol- lections of the past, in the prosperity and pleasures of the present, and in high hopes for the future. But let us remem- ber that we have duties and obligations to perform, corresponding to the bless- ings which we enjoy. Let us remember the trust, the sacred trust, attaching to the rich inheritance which we have re- ceived from our fathers. Let us feel our personal responsibility, to the full extent of our power and influence, for the pres- ervation of the principles of civil and religious liberty. And let us remember that it is only religion, and morals, ami knowledge, that can make men respecta- ble and happy, under any form of govern- ment. Let us hold fast the great truth, that communities are responsible, as well as individuals; that no government is respectable, which is not just; that without unspotted purity of public faitli, without sacred public principle, fidelity, and honor, no mere forms of govern- ment, no machinery of laws, can give dignity to political society. In our day and generation let us seek to raise and improve the moral sentiment, so that we may look, not for a degraded, but for an elevated and improved future. And when both wo and our children shall have been consigned to (he house ap- I pointed for all living, may love of coun- COMPLETION OF THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 151 try and pride of country glow with equal fervor among those to whom our names and our blood shall have descended! And then, when lionored and decrepit as:e shall lean against the base of this monument, and troops of ingenuous youth shall be gathered round it, and when the one shall speak to the other of its objects, the purposes of its construction, and the great and glorious events with which it is connected, there shall rise from every youthful breast the ejacular- tion, " Thank God, I — I also — am ax American! " NOTE. Page 139. The following description of the Bunker Hill Momiiucnt and Square is from Mr. Frothingham's History of the Siege of Bos- ton, pp. 355, 356. "Monument Square is four hundred and seventeen feet from north to south, and four hundred feet from east to west, and contains nearly six acres. It embraces the whole site of the redoubt, and a part of the site of the breast- work. According to the most accurate plan of the town and the battle (Page's), the monument stands where the southwest angle of the redoubt was, and the whole of the redoubt was between the monument and the street that bounds it on the west. The small mound in the northeast comer of the square is supposed to be the re- mains of the breastwork. Warren fell about two hundred feet west of the monument. An iron fence encloses the square, and another sur rounds the monument. The square lias en- trances on each of its sides, and at each of its corners, and is surrounded by a walk and rows of trees. " The obelisk is thirty feet in diameter at the base, about fifteen feet at the top of the trun- cated part, and was designed to be two hundred and twenty feet high ; but the mortar and the seams between the stones make the precise height two hundred and twenty-one feet. With- in the shaft is a hollow cone, with a spiral stair- way winding round it to its summit, which enters a circular chamber at the top. There are ninety courses of stone in the shaft. — six of them" below the ground, and eighty-four above the ground. The capstone, or apex, Is a single stone four feet square at the base, and three feet six inches in height, weighing two and a half tons." OUR RELATIONS TO THE SOUTH AMERICAN REPUBLICS. KXT)-.ACTS FROM THE SPEECH OX " THE PANAMA MISSION," DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES OF THE UNITED STATES, ON THE ]4th OF APRIL, 1826. It has been affirmed, that this meas- ui'e, and the sentiments expressed by the Executive relative to its objects, are an acknowledged departure from the neu- tral policy of the United States. Sir, I deny that there is an acknowledged departure, or any departure at all, from the neutral policy of the country. What do we mean by our neutral policy? Not, I suppose, a blind and stupid indiffer- ence to whatever is passing around us; not a total disregard to approaching events, or approaching evils, till they meet us full in the face. Nor do we mean, by our neutral policy, that we in- tend never to assert our rights by force. No, Sir. AVe mean by our policy of neu- trality, that the great objects of national pursuit with us are connected with peace. We covet no provinces; we desire no con- quests; we entertain no ambitious proj- ects of aggrandizement by war. This is our policy. But it does not follow from this, that we rely less tlian other nations on our own power to vindicate our own rights. We know that the last logic of kings is also our last logic; that our own interests must be defended and main- tained by our own arm ; and that peace or ■war may not always be of our own choos- ing. Our neutral policy, therefore, not only justifies, but requires, our anxious attention to the political events which take place in the world, a skilful percep- tion of their relation to our own concerns, and an early anticipation of their conse- quences, and firm and timely assertion of what we hold to be our own risrhts and our own interests. Our neutrality is not a predetermined abstinence, either from remonstrances, or from force. Our neu- tral policy is a policy that protects neu- trality, that defends neutrality, that takes up arms, if need be, for neutral- ity. When it is sard, therefore, that this measure departs from our neutral policy, either that policy, or the measure itself, is misunderstood. It implies either that the object or the tendency of the measure is to involve us in the war of other .states, which I think cannot be shown, or that tlie assertion of our own sentiments, on points affecting deeply our own interests, may place us in a hos- tile attitude toward other states, and that therefore we depart from neutral- ity; whereas the truth is, that the deci- sive assertion and the firm suppoi-t of these sentiments may be most essential to the nwiintenance of neutrality. An honorable member fi'om Pennsyl- vania thinks this congress will bring a dark day over the United States. Doubt- less, Sir, it is an interesting moment in our history; but I see no great jiroofs of thick-coming darkness. But the object of the remark seemed to be to show that the President himself saw difficulties on all sides, and, making a choice of evils, preferred rather to send ministers to this congress, than to run the ri.sk of exciting the hostility of the states by refusing to send. In other words, the gentleman wished to prove that tlie President in- tended an alliance ; although such inten- tion is expressly disclaimed. THE PANAMA MISSION. 153 ^luch commentary lias been bestowed on the letters of invitation from the min- isters. 1 shall not go through with ver- bal criticisms on these letters. Their general import is plain enough. I shall not gather togetlier small and minute quotations, taking a sentence hero, a word there, and a syllable in a third place, dovetailing them into the course of remark, till the printed discourse bristles in every line with inverted com- mas. I look to the general tenor of the invitations, and I find that we are asked to take part only in such tilings as con- cern ourselves. I look still more care- fully to the answers, and I see every proper caution and proper g\iard. I look to the message, and I see that nothing is there contemplated likely to involve us in other men's quarrels, or fcliat may justly give offence to anj^ foreign state. "Witli this I am satisfied. I must now ask the indulgence of the committee to an important point in the discussion, I mean the declaration of the President in 1823. ^ Xot only as a member of the House, but as a citizen of the country, I have an anxious de- sire that this part of our public history should stand in its proper light. The country has, in my judgment, a very high honor connected with that occur-\ rence, which we may maintain, or which we may sacrifice. I look upon it as a part of its treasures of reputation; and, for one, I intend to guard it. 1 In the message of President Monroe to Contrress at the commencement of the session of 18'2:^-24, tiie following passage occurs: — "In the wars of the European powers, in mat- ters relating to themselves, we have never taken any part, nor does it comport with our policy 89 to do. It is only when our rights are invaded, or seriously menaced, that we re- sent injuries or make preparations for defence. With the movements in this hemisphere we are of necessity more immediately connected, and by causes wiiich must be obvious to all en- lightened and impartial observers. The politi- cal system of the Allied Powers is essentially different, in this respect, from tliat of America. Thi* difference proceeds from that which exists in their respective governments. And to the defence of our own, which has been achieved by the loss of so much blood and treasure, and matured bv the wisdom of their most enlight- Sir, let us recur to the important po- litical events which led to that declara- tion, or accompanied it. In the fall of 1822, the allied sovereigns held their congress at ^'erona. The great subject of consideration was the condition of Spain, that country then being unde'- the government of the Cortes. The ques- tion was, whether Ferdinand should be reinstated in all his authority, by the intervention of foreign force. Russia, Prn.ssia, France, and Austria were in- clined to that measure; England dis- sented and piotested ; but the course was agreed on, and France, with the consent of these other Continental powers, took the conduct of the operation into her own hands. In the spring of 1823, a French army was sent into Spain. Its success was complete. The popular gov- ernment was overthrown, and Ferdinand re-established in all his power. This invasion. Sir, was determined on, and undertaken, precisely on the doctrines which the allied monarchs had pro- claimed the year before, at Laybach; that is, that they had a right to interfere in the concerns of another state, and re- form its government, in order to prevent the effects of its bad example; this bad example, be it remembered, always be- ing the example of free government. Now, Sir, acting on this principle of supi)0sed dangerous example, and hav- ing put down the example of the Cortes in Spain, it was natural to inquire with ened citizens, and under which we have en joyed such unexampled felicity, this whole nation is devoted. We owe it, therefore, to candor, and to the amicable relations existing between the United States and those powers, to declare that we should consider any attempt on tlieir part to extend their system to any portion of this heinisi)liere as dangerous to our peace and safety. With the existing cob. nies or de- pendencies of any European power, we have not interfered, and shall not interfere. Rut with the governments who have declared (heir independence and maiiUained it, and whose in- dependence we liave on great consideration and on just principles acknowledged, we could not view any interposition for the purpose of op- pressing them, or controlling in anj* other man- ner their destiny, in any other light than as (he manites(ation of an unfriendly disposition !o ward the United States." 164 THE ^A^'AMA MISSION. what eyes they would look on the colo- nies of Spain, that were following still worse examples. Would King Ferdi- nand and his allies be content with what had been done in Spain itself, or would he solicit their aid, and was it likely they would grant it, to subdue his re- bellious American provinces? Sir, it was in this posture of affairs, on an occasion which lias already been alluded to, that I ventured to say, early in the session of December, 1823, that these allied monarchs might possibly turn their attention to America; that America came within their avowed doc- trine, and that her examples might very possibly attract their notice. The doc- trines of Laybach were not limited to nny continent. Spain had colonies in America, and having reformed Spain herself to the true standard, it was not impossible that they might see fit to complete tlie work by reconciling, in their way, the colonies to the mother country. Xow, Sir, it did so happen, that, as soon as the Spanish king was completely re-established, he invited the co-operation of his allies in regard to South America. In the same month of December, of 1823, a formal invitation was addressed by Spain to the courts of St. Petersburg, Vienna, Berlin, and Paris, proposing to establish a confer- ence at Paris, in order that the plenipo- tentiaries there assembled might aid Spain in adjusting the affairs of her revolted provinces. These affairs were proposed to be adjusted in such manner as should retain the sovereignty of Spain over them ; and though the co-operation of the allies by force of arms was not directly solicited, such was evidently the object aimed at. The king of Spain, in making this request to the members of the Holy Alliance, argued as it has been seen he might argue. He quoted their own doctrines of Laybach; he pointed out the pernicious example of America; and he reminded them that their success in Spain itself liad paved the way for successful opeiations against the spirit of liberty on this side of the Atlantic. 'J'he proposed meeting, however, did not take place England had already taken a decided course ; for as early as October, Mr. Canning, in a confeience with the French minister in London, informed him distinctly and expressly, that England would consider any foreign interference, by force or by menace, in the dispute between Spain and the colo- nies, as a motive for recognizing the lat- ter without delay. It is probable this determination of the English govern- ment was known here at the commence- ment of the session of Congress ; and it was under these circumstances, it was in this crisis, that !Mr. Monroe's declara- tion was made. It was not then ascer- tained whether a meeting of the Allies would or would not take place, to con- cert with Spain the means of re-estab- lishing her power; but it was plain enough tkey would be pressed by Spain to aid her operations ; and it was plain enough, ahso, that they had no particular liking to what was taking place on this side of the Atlantic, nor any great disin- clination to interfere. This was the pos- ture of affairs; and. Sir, I concur entireh in the sentiment expressed in the resolu- tion of a gentleman from Pennsylvania,^ that this declaration of Mr. Monroe was wise, seasonable, and patriotic. It has been said, in the course of this debate, to have been a loose and vague declaration. It was, I believe, suffi- ciently studied. I have understood, from good authority, that it was con- sidered, weighed, and distinctly and decidedly approved, by every one of the President's advisers at that time. Our government could not adopt on that oc- casion precisely the course which Eng- land had taken. England threatened the immediate recognition of the prov- inces, if the Allies should take part with Spain- against them. We liad al- ready recognized them. It remained, therefore, only for our government to say how we should consider a combina- tion of the Allied Powers, to effect ob- jects in America, as affecting ourselves; and the message was intended to say, what it does say, that we sliould regard such combination as dangerous to us. Sir, I agree with those who maintain the 1 Mr. Markley. THE PANAMA :\IISRION. Ihb proposition, and 1 contend against those wlio deny it, that the message did mean sometliing; that it meant much; and I maintain, against both, tliat the declara- tion effected much good, answered the end designed by it, did great honor to the foresight and the spirit of the gov- ernment, and that it cannot now be taJien back, I'etracted, or annulled, with- out disgrace. It met. Sir, with the entire concurrence and the hearty approbation of the country. The tone which it uttered foimd a corresponding response in the breasts of the free people of the United States. That people saw, and they rejoiced to see, that, on a fit occa- sion, our weight had been thrown into the right scale, and that, without de- parting from our duty, we had done something useful, and something effect- ual, for the cause of civil liberty. One general glow of exultation, one uni- versal feeling of the gratified love of liberty, one conscious and proud per- ception of the consideration which the coimtry possessed, and of the respect and honor which belonged to it, per- vaded all bosoms. Possibly the public enthusiasm went too far; it certainly did go far. But, Sii', the sentiment which this declaration inspired was not confined to ourselves. Its force was felt everywhere, by all those who could understand its object and foresee its effect. In that very House of Com- mons of which the gentleman from South Carolina has spoken with such commendation, how was it received? Not only, Sir, with approbation, but, I may say, with no little enthusiasm. While the leading minister^ expressed his entire concurrence in the sentiments and opinions of the American President, his distinguished competitor- in that popular body, less restrained by official decorum, and more at liberty to give utterance to all the feeling of the occa- sion, declared that no event had ever created greater joy, exultation, and grat- itude among all the free men in Europe; that he felt pride in being connected by blood and language with the people of the United States; that the policy 1 ilr. Canning. 2 ]\fr. Broufrham. disclosed by the message becams a great, a free, and an independent nation ; and that he hoped his own country would be prevented by no mean pride, or paltry jealousy, from following so noblo and glorious an example. It is doubtless true, as I took occa- sion to observe the other day, that tliia declaration must be considered as found- ed on our rights, and to spring mainly from a regard to their preservation. It did not commit us, at all events, to take up arms on any indication of hostile feeling by the powers of Europe to- wards South America. If, for ex- ample, all the states of Europe had refused to trade with South America until her states should return to their former allegiance, that would have fur- nished no cause of interference to us. Or if an armament had been furnished by the Allies to act against provinces the most remote from us, as Chili or Buenos Ayres, the distance of the scene of action diminishing our apprehension of danger, and diminishing also our means of effectual interposition, might still have left us to content ourselves with remonstrance. But a very differ- ent case would have arisen, if an army, equipped and maintained by these pow ers, had been landed on the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, and commenced the war in our own immediate neighbor- hood. Such an event might justly be regarded as dangerous to ourselves, and, on that gr-ound, call for decided and immediate interference by us. The sentiments and the policy announced by the declaration, thus understood, weroy' therefore, in strict conformity to our duties and our interest. Sir, I look on the message of De- cember, 1823, as forming a bright page in our history. I will help neither to erase it nor tear it out; nor shall it be, by any act of mine, blurred or blotted. It did honor to the sagacity of the gov- ernment, and I will not diminish that honor. It elevated the hopes, and gratified the patriotism, of the people. Over those hopes I will not bring a mil- dew; nor will I put that gratified patri- otism to shame. ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. A DISCOURSE m COMMEMORATION OF THE LIVES AND SERVICES OF JOHN ADAMS AND THOMAS JEFFERSON, DELIVERED IN FANEUIL HALL, BOSTON, ON THE 2d of AUGUST, 1826. [Since the decease of General Washing- ton, on the 14th of December, 1799, the public mind has never been so powerfully affected in this part of the country by any similar event, as by the death of John Adams, on the 4th" of July, 1826. The news reached Boston in tlie evenincr of that day. The decease of this venerable fellow- citizen must at all times have appealed with much force to the patriotic s3-mpathies of the people of Massachusetts. It ac- quired a singular interest from the year and the day on which it took place ; — the 4tli of July of the year completing the half- century from that ever memorable era in the history of this country and the world, the Declaration of Independence; a meas- ure in which Mr Adams himself had taken 60 distinguished a part. The emotions of the public were greatly increased by the indications given by Mr. Adams in his last hours, that he was fully aware that the day was the anniversary of Independence, and by his dying allusion to the supposed fact that his colleague, Jefferson, survived liim. When, in the course of a few days, the new^ arrived from Virginia, that he also had departed this life, on the same day and a few hours before Mr. Adams, the sensibility of the community, as of the country at large, was touched beyond rU example. The occurrence was justly deemed without a parallel in history. The various circumstances of association and coincidence which marked tlie characters and careers of these great men, and espe- cially those of their simultaneous decease on the 4tli of July, were dwelt upon with melancholy but untiring interest. Tlie cir- cles of private life, the press, public bodies, and the jiuljiit, were for some time almost engrossed witli the topic ; and solemn rites of commemoration were performed through- out the coimtry. An early day was appointed for this purpose by the City Council of Boston. Tlie whole community manifested its sym- pathy in the extraordinary event ; and on the 2d of August, 1826, at the request of the municipal authorities, and in the presence of an immense audience, the following Dis- course was delivered in Faneuil Hall.] This i.s an iinaccu.stomed spectacle. For the first time, fellow-citizens, badges of mouraing shroud the columns and overhang the arches of this hall. These walls, which were consecrated, so long ago, to the cause of American liberty, which witnessed her infant struggles, and rung with the shouts of her earliest victories, proclaim, now, that distin- guished friends and champions of that great cause have fallen. It is right that it should be thus. The tears which flow, and the honors that are paid, when the founders of the republic die, give hope that the republic itself may be immortal. It is fit that, by public as- sembly and solemn observance, by an- them and bv eulogy, we commemorate the services of national benefactors, extol their virtues, and render thanks to God for eminent ble.«sings, early given and long continued, through their agency, to our favored country. ADAMS and JEFFERSOX arc no more; and we are assembled, fellow- citizens, the aged, the middle-aged, and the young, by the spontaneous impulse of all, under the authority of the mu- nicipal government, with the presence of the chief magistrate of the Common- wealth, and others its official represent- atives, tlie University, and the learned societies, to bear our part in those mani- ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 157 festations of respect aud gratitude which pervade the whole land. Adams and Jkkffksox are no more. On our fifti- eth anniversary, the great day of national jubilee, in the very hour of public re- joicing, in the midst of eclioing and re-echoing voices of thanksgiving, while their own names were on all tongues, they took their flight together to the world of spirits. If it be true that no one can safely be pronounced happy while he lives, if that event which terminates life can alone crown its honors and its glory, what felicity is here ! The great epic of their- lives, how happily concluded! Poetry itself has hardly terminated illustrious lives, and finished the career of earthly renown, by such a consummation. If we had the power, we could not wish to reverse this dispensation of the Divine Providence. The great objects of life were accomplished, the drama was ready to be closed. It has closed; our patriots have fallen ; but so fallen, at such age, with such coincidence, on such a day, that we cannot rationally lament that that end has come, which we knew could not be long deferred. Xeither of these great men, fellow- citizens, could have died, at any time, without leaving an immense void in our American society. They have been so intimately, and for so long a time, blended with the history of the country, and especially so united, in our thoughts aud recollections, with the events of the Revolution, that the death of either would have touched the chords of public sympathy. We should have felt that one great link, connecting us with former times, was broken; that we had lost something more, as it were, of the pres- ence of the Revolution itself, and of the act of independence, and were driven on, by another great remove from the days of our country's early distinction, to meet posterity, and to mix with the futuie. Like the mariner, whom the currents of the ocean and the winds carry along, till he sees the stars which have directed his course and lighted his pathless way descend, one by one, be- neath the rising horizon, we should have felt that the stream of time had borna us onward tiU another great luminary, whose liirht had cheered us and whosa guidance we had followed, had sunk away from our sight. But the concurrence of their death en the anniversary of Independence has naturally awakened stronger emotions. Both had been Presidents, both had lived to great age, both were early p.v triots, and both were distinguished and ever honored by their immediate agency in the act of independence. It cannot but seem striking and extraordinary, that these two should live to see the fif- tieth year from the date of that act; that they should complete that year; and that then, on the day which had fast linked for ever their own fame with their country's glory, the heavens should open to receive them both at once. As their lives themselves were the gifts of Providence, who is not willing to recog- nize in their hapjsy termination, as well as in their long continuance, proofs that our country and its benefactors are ob- jects of His care? Adams and Jeffkrsox, I have said, are no more. As human beings, indeed, they are no more. They are no more, as in 1776, bold and fearless advocates of independence; no more, as at subsequent periods, the head of the government; no more, as we have recently seen them, aged and venerable objects of admira- tion and regard. They are no more. They are dead. But how little is there of the great and good which can die! To their country they yet live, and live for ever. They live in all tliat perpetu- ates the remembrance of men on earth ; in the recorded proofs of their own great actions, in the offspring of their intel- lect, in the deep-engraved lines of pub- lic gratitude, and in the respect and homage of mankind. They live in their example; and they live, emphatically, and will live, in the influence which their lives and efforts, their principles and opinions, now exercise, and will continue to exercise, on the affairs of men, not only in their own country, but throughout the civilized world. A su- perior and commanding human intellect. 158 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. a truly gieai man, wh'.'ii Hoaven vouch- safes so rare a gift, is not a temporary flame, burning brightly for a while, and then giving place to returning darkness. It is rather a spark of fervent heat, as well as radiant light, with power to enkindle the common mass of human mind; so that when it glimmers in its own decay, and finally goes out in death, QO night follows, but it leaves the world all r^ght, all on fire, from the potent con- tact of its own spirit. Bacon died; but the human understanding, roused by the touch of his miraculous wand to a per- ception of the true philosophy and the just mode of inquiring after truth, has kept on its course successfully and glori- ously. Newton died; yet the courses of the spheres are still known, and they yet move on by the laws which he dis- covered, and in the orbits which he saw, and described for them, in the infinity of space. No two men now live, fellow-citizens, perhaps it may be doubted whether any two men have ever lived in one age, who, more than those we now commem- orate, have impressed on mankind their own sentiments in regard to politics and government, infused their own opinions more deeply into the opinions of others, or given a more lasting direction to the current of human thought. Their work doth not perish with them. The tree which they assisted to plant will flourish, although they water it and protect it no longer; for it has struck its roots deep, it has sent them to the very centre ; no storm, not of force to burst the orb, can overturn it; its branches spread wide; they stretch their protecting arras broader and broader, and its top is destined to reach the heavens. We are not deceived. There is no delusion here. No age will come in which the American Revolution will appear less than it is, one of the greatest events in human history. No age will come in which it shall cease to be seen and felt, on either continent, tiiat a mighty step, a great advance, not only in American affairs, but in human affairs, was made on the 4th of July, 177(1. And no age will come, we trust, so ignorant or so mijust as not to see and acknowledge the efficient agency of thos« we now honor in producing that momen- tous event. We are not assembled, tlierefore, fel- low-citizens, as men overwhelmed with calamity by the sudden disruption of the ties of friendship or aflection, or as in despair for the republic by the un- timely blighting of its hopes. Death has not surprised us by an unseasonable blow. We have, indeed, seeu the tomb close, but it has closed only over matm-e years, over long-protracted public ser- vice, over the weakness of age, and over life itself only when the ends of living had been fulfilled. These suns, as they rose slowly and steadily, amidst clouds and storms, in their ascendant, so they have not rushed from their meridian to sink suddenly in the west. Like the mildness, the serenity, the continuing benignity of a summer's day, they have gone down with slow-descending, grate- ful, long-lingering light; and now that they are beyond the visible margin of the world, good omens cheer us from "the bright track of their fiery car " ! There were many points of similarity in the lives and fortunes of these great men. They belonged to the same pro- fession, and had pursued its studios and its practice, for unequal lengths of time indeed, but with diligence and effect. Both were learned and able lawyers. They were natives and inhabitants, re- spectively, of those two of the Colonies which at the Revolution weje the largest and most powei'ful, and which naturally had a lead in tlie political affairs of the times. \N'hen the Colonies became in some degree united, by the assembling of a general Congress, th^y were brought to act togetlier in its deliberations, not indeed at the same time, but both at early periods. Each had alreaily mani- fested his attachment to the cause of tiie country, as well as his ability to main- tain it, by printed addre.sses, public speeches, extensive correspondence, and whatever other mode could be adopted for the purpose of exposing the en- croachments of tiie British rarli;iment and animating the people to a manly resistance. Both were not only decided, ADAMS AND JEFFEUSON. 159 but early, friends of Tudependeiice. Wliile others yet douhted, they weie resohed; where otliers liesitated, they pressed forward. They were both mem- bers of the committee for preparing the Declaration of Independence, and they constituted the sub-committee appointed by the other members to make the draft. They left their seats in Congress, being called to other public employments, at f;eriods not remote from each other, al- tliough one of them returned to it after- wards for a short time. Neither of them was of the assembly of great men which formed the present Constitution, and neitlier was at any time a member of Congress under its provisions. Both have been public ministers abroad, both Vice-Presidents and both Presidents of the United States. These coincidences are now singularly crowned and com- pleted. They have died together ; and they died on the anniversary of liberty. When many of us wei"e last in this place, fellow-citizens, it was on the day of tliat anniversary. We were met to enjoy the festivities belonging to the occasion, and to manifest our grateful homage to our political fathers. We did not, we could not here, forget our venerable neighbor of Quincy. We knew that we w^ere standing, at a time of high and palmy prosperity, where he had stood in the hour of utmost peril ; that we saw nothing but liberty and security, where he had met the frown of power; that we were enjoying every thing, where he had hazarded every thing; and just and sincere plaudits rose to his name, from the crowds which filled this area, and hung over these galleries. He whose grateful duty it was to speak to us,i on that day, of the virtues of our fathers, had, indeed, admonished us that time and years were about to level his venerable frame with the dust. But he bade us hope that " the sound of a na- tion's joy, rushing from our cities, ring- ing from our valleys, echoing from our hills, might yet break the silence of his aged ear; that the rising blessings of grateful millions might yet visit with glad light his decaying vision." Alas! that 1 Hon. Josiah Quincy. vision was then closing for ever. Alas I the silence which was then settling oa that aged ear was an everlasting silence I For, lo! in the veiy moment of our fes- tivities, his freed spirit ascended to God who gave it! Human aid and human solace terminate at the grave; or we would gladly liave borne him upward, on a nation's outspread hands; we would have accompanied him, and with the blessings of millions and the prayers of millions, commended him to the Divine favor. While still indulging our thoughts, on the coincidence of the death of this venerable man with the anniversary of Indep'endence, we learn that Jefferson, too, has fallen; and that these aged patriots, these illustrious fellow-laborers, have left our world together. May not such events raise the suggestion that they are not undesigned, and that Heaven doea so order things, as sometimes to attract stronfjlv the attention and excite the thoughts of men? The occurrence has added new interest to our anniversary, and will be remembered in all time to come. The occasion, fellow-citizens, requires some account of the lives and services of John Adams and Thomas Jeffersox- This duty must necessarily be performed with great brevity, and in tlie discharge of it I shall be obliged to confine myself, principally, to those parts of their his- tory and character which belonged to them as public men. JoHX Adams was born at Quincy, then part of the ancient town of Brain- tree, on the loth day of October (old style), 1735. He was a descendant of the Puritans, his ancestors having early emigrated from England, and settled ia Massachusetts. Discovering in child- hood a strong love of reading and of knowledge, together with marks of great strength and activity of mind, proper care was taken by his worthy father to provide for his education. He pursued his youthfid studies in Braintree, under Mr. Marsh, a teacher who.se fortune it was tliat Josiah Quincy, Jr., as well a.s the subject of these remarks, should ItJO ADAMS A^'D JEFFERSON. receive from him his instruction in the rudiments of classical literature. Hav- ing been admitted, in 1751, a member of Harvard College, Mr. Adams was graduated, in course, in 1755; and on the catalogue of that institution, his name, at the time of his death, was second among the living Alumni, being preced- ed only by that of the venerable Holy- oke. With what degree of reputation he left the University is not now precisely known. We know only that he was dis- tinguished in a class which numbered Locke and Hemmenway among its mem- bers. Choosing the law for his profes- sion, he commenced and prosecuted its studies at Worcester, under the direction of Samuel Putnam, a gentleman whom he has himself described as an acute man, an able and learned lawyer, and as being in large professional practice at that time. In 1758 he was admitted to the bar, and entered upon the practice of tlie law in Braintree. He is under- stood to have made his first considerable effort, or to have attained his first signal success, at Plymouth, on one of those occasions which furnish the earliest op- portunity for distinction to many young men of the profession, a jury trial, and a criminal cause. His business natu- rally grew with his reputation, and his residence in the vicinity afforded the opportunity, as his growing eminence gave the power, of entering on a larger field of practice in the capital. In 1706 he removed his residence to Boston, still continuing his attendance on the neigh- boring circuits, and not unfrequently called to remote parts of the Province. In 1770 his professional firmness was broudit to a test of some severitv, on the application of the British officers and soldiers to imdertake their defence, on the trial of the indictments found ajiainst them on account of the trans- actions of the memorable 5th of March. He seems to have thought, on this occa- sion, that a man can no more abandon the proper duties of his profession, than he can abandon other duties. The event proved, tliat, as he judged well for his own reputation, so, too, he judged well for the interest and permanent fame of his country. The result of that trial proved, that, notwitlistanding the high degree of excitement then existing iu consequence of the measures of the Brit- ish government, a jury of Massachusetts would not deprive the most reckless enemies, even the officers of that stand- ing army quartered among them, which they so perfectly abhorred, of any part of that protection which the law, in its mildest and most indulgent interpreta- tion, affords to persons accused of crimes. Without following Mr. Adams's pro- fessional course further, suffice it to say, that on the first establishment of the judicial tribunals under the authority of the State, in 1776, he received an offer of the high and responsible station of Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Massachusetts. But he was destined for another and a different career. From early life the bent of his mind was toward politics ; a propensity which the state of the times, if it did not create, doubtless very much strength- ened. Public subjects must have occu- pied the thoughts and filled up the con- versation in the circles in which he then moved; and the interesting questions at that time just arising could not but seize on a mind like his, ardent, san- guine, and patriotic. A letter, fortu- nately preserved, written by him at Worcester, so early as the Tith of Oc- tober, 1755, is a proof of very compre- hensive views, and uncommon depth of reflection, in a young man not yet quite twenty. In this letter he predicted the transfer of power, and the establishment of a new seat of emjnre in America; he predicted, also, the increase of popula- tion in tlie Colonies; and anticipated their naval distinction, and foretold that all Europe combined could not subdue them. All this is said, not on a public occasion or for effect, but in the style of sober and friendly con-espondence, as the result of his own thoughts. " I sometimes retire," said he, at the close of the letter, "and, laying things to- gethei-, form some reflections pleasing to myself. The produce of one of these reveries you have read above." This prognostication so early in his own life, ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 161 JO early in the history of the country, ■>t independence, of vast increase of numbers, of naval force, of such aug- in«mted power as might defy all Europe, Is remarkable. It is more remarkable th it its author should live to see ful- niJod to the letter what could have seemed to others, at tlie time, but the extravagance of youthful fancy. His earJiest political feelings were thus strongly American, and from this ar- dent attachment to his native soil he never departed. V.liile still living at Quincy, and at the age of twenty-four, Mr. Adams was preiient, in this town, at the argument before the Supreme Court respecting Writs of Assistiince, and heard the cele- brated and patriotic speech of James Otis. Unquestionably, that was a mas- terly perfoi'mance. No flighty declama- tion about liberty, no superficial discus- sion of popular topics, it was a learned, penetrating, convincing, constitutional argument, expressed in a strain of high t nd resolute patriotism. He grasped t.ie question then pending between Eng- land and her Colonies with the strength of a lion; and if he sometimes sported, it was only because the lion himself is sometimes playful. Its success appears to have been as great as its merits, and its impression was widely felt. Mr. Adams himself seems never to have lost the feeling it produced, and to have enter- tained constantly the fullest conviction of its important effects. "I do say," he observes, " in the most solemn man- ner, that Mr. Otis's Oration against Writs of Assistance breathed into this nation the breath of life." ^ In 1705 jMr. Adams laid before the 1 Nearly all that was known of this cele- brated argument, at the time the present Dis- CJurse was delivered, was derived from the recollections of John Adams, as preserved in Minot's History of Massachusetts, Vol. II. p. 91. Sen Life and Works of John Adams, Vol. II. p. 124, published in the course of the past year (1850), in the Appendix to which, p. 521, will be found a paper hitherto unpublished, con- taining notes of the argument of Otis, "which seera to be the foundation of the sketch pub- lished by Minot." Tudor's Life of James Otis, p. 61. public, anonymously, a series of essays, afterwards collected in a volume in Lou- don, under the title of " A Dissertation on the C'auon and Feudal Law." '■^ The object of this work was to .show that our New England ancestors, in con.sent- ing to exile themselves from their native land, were actuated mainly by the desire of delivering themselves from the power of the hierarchy, and from the monarch- ical and aristocratical systems of tlie other continent; and to make this truth bear with effect on the politics of the times. Its tone is uncommonly bold and animated for that period. He calla on the people, not only to defend, but to study and understand, their rights and privileges; urges earnestly the necessity of diffusing general knowledge; invokes the clergy and the bar, the colleges and academies, and all others who have the ability and the means to expose the in- sidious designs of arbitrary power, to resist its approaches, and to be per- suaded that there is a settled design on foot to enslave all America. " He it remembered," says the author, "that liberty must, at all hazards, be support- ed. We have a right to it, derived from our Maker. But if we had not, our fa- thers have earned and bought it for us, at. the expense of their ease, their estates, their pleasui'e, and their blood. And liberty cannot be preserved without a- general knowledge among the people, who have a right, from the frame of" their nature, to knowledge, as their- great Creator, who does nothing in vain, has ffiven them understandincfs and a; desire to know. But, besides this, they have a right, an indisputable unaliena- ble, indefeasible, divine right, to that, most dreaded and envied kind of knowl- edge, I mean of the characters and con- duct of their rulers. Rulers are no more than attorneys, agents, and trustees for the people; and if the cause, the inter- est and trust, is insidiously betrayed, or wantonly trifled away, the people have a right to revoke the authority that they themselves have deputed, and to consti- 2 See Life and Works of John .\dnnis, Vol. II. p. 150, Vol III p. 447. ajid North Aniericta Review, Vol. LXXI. p. 430. 11 162 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. tute abler and better agents, attorneys, and trustees." The citizens of this town conferred on Mr. Adams his first political distinc- tion, and clothed him with his first po- litical trust, by electing him one of tlieir representatives, in 1770. Before this time he had become extensively known throughout the Province, as well by the part he had acted in relation to public affairs, as by the exercise of his professional ability. He was among those who took the deepest interest in the controversy with England, and, whether in or out of the legislature, his time and talents were alike devoted to the cause. In the years 1773 and 1774 he was chosen a Councillor by the members of the General Court, but re- jected by Governor Hutchinson in the former of those years, and by Governor Gage in the latter. The time was now at hand, however, when the affairs of the Colonies urgent- ly demanded united counsels throughout the countr}-. An open rupture with the parent state appeared inevitable, and it was but the dictate of prudence that those who were united by a common in- terest and a common danger should pro- tect that interest and guard against that danger by united efforts. A general Congress of Delegates from all the Colo- nies having been proposed and agreed to, the House of Representatives, on the 17th of June, 1774, elected James Bowdoin, Thomas Gushing, Samuel Adams, John Adams, and Robert Treat Paine, delegates from Massachusetts. This appointment was made at Salem, where the General Court had been con- vened by Governor Gage, in the last hour of the existence of a House of Representatives under the Provincial Charter. Wliile engaged in this im- portant business, the Governor, having been informed of what wiia passing, .sent liis secretary with a message dissolving the General Court. The .secretary, find- ing the door locked, directed the mes- senger to go in and inform the Speaker that the secretary was at the door with a message from tlie Governor. The mes- senger returned, and informed the sec- retary that the orders of the House were that the doors sliould be kept fast; whereupon the secretary soon after read upon the stairs a proclamation dissolv- ing the General Court. Thus termi- nated, for ever, the actual exercise of the political power of England in or over ^lassachusetts. The four last-named delegates accepted their appointments, and took their seats in Congiess the first day of its meeting, the 5th of Sep* tember, 1774, in Philadelphia. The proceedings of the first Congiess are well known, and have been univer- sally admired. It is in vain that we would look for superior proofs of wis- dom, talent, and patriotism. Lord Chat- ham said, that, for himself, he must declare that he had studied and admired the free states of antiquity, the master states of the world, but that for solidity of reasoning, force of sagacity, and wis- dom of conclusion, no body of men could stand in preference to this Congress. It is hardly inferior praise to say, that no production of that great man himself can be pronounced superior to several of the papers published as the pi'oceedings of this most able, most firm, most patri- otic assembly. There is, indeed, noth- ing superior to them in the range of political disquisition. They not only embrace, illustrate, and enforce every thing which political philosophy, the love of liberty, and the spirit of free inquiry had antecedently produced, but they add new and striking views of theii' own, and apply the whole, with irresistible force, in support of Uie cause which had drawn them together. Mr. Adams was a constant attendaii^ on the deliberations of this body, and bore an active part in its im]tortant measures. He was of the coinniiltee to state the rights of the Colonies, and of that also which reported the Address to the King. As it was in the Continental Congress, fellow-citizens, that those whose deaths have given rise to tiiis occasion were first brought together, and called upon to unite their industry and their ability in the service of the country, let us now turn to the other of these distinguished ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 163 men, and take a brief notice of his life op to tlie period when he appeared within the walls of Congress. Thomas Jefferson, descended from ancestors who had been settled in Vir- ginia for some generations, was born near the spot on which he died, in the county of Albemarle, on tlie 2d of April (old stylf ), 1743. Ilis youthful studies were pursued in the neighborhood of his father's residence until he was removed to the College of William and ^laiy, the highest honors of which he in due time received. Ila* :ng left the College with reputation, he applied himself to the study of ihe law under the tuition of George Wythe, one of the highest judi- cial names of which that State can boast. At an early age he was elected a member of the legislature, in which he had nr> sooner appeared than he distinguished himself by knowledge, capacity, and promptitude. ^Ir. Jefferson appears to have been imbued with an early love of letters and science, and to have cherished a strong disposition to pursue these objects. To the physical sciences, especially, and to ancient classic literature, he is under- stood to have had a warm attachment, and never entirely to have lost sight of them in the midst of the busiest occu- pations. But the times were times for action, rather than for contemplation. The country was to be defended, and to be saved, before it could be enjoyed. Philosophic leisure and literary pursuits, and even the objects of professional at- tention, were all necessarily postponed to the urgent calls of the public service. The exigency of the country made the same demand on Mr. Jefferson that it made on others who had the ability and the disposition to serve it; and he obeyed the call; thinking and feeling in this respect with the great Roman orator: " Quis enim est tam cupidus in perspi- cienda cognoscendaque rerdra natura, ut, si ei tractanti contemplantique res cognitione dignissimas subito sit alla- tum periculum discrimenque patria?, cui subvenire opitularique possit, non ilia omnia relinquat atque abjiciat, etiara si dinumerare se Stellas, aut metiri mundi magnitudinem posse arbitretur? " ^ Entering with all his heart into the cause of liberty, his ability, patriotism, and power with the pen naturally drew upon him a large participation in the most important concerns. Wherever he was, there was found a soul devoted to the rause, power to defend and maintain it, and willingness to incur all its haz- ards. Iv 1774 he published a " Summary View of the Rights of British America," a valuable production among those in- tended to show the dangers whicli threat- ened the liberties of the country, and to encourage the people in their defence In June, 1775, he was elected a member of the Continental Congress, as succes- sor to Peyton Randolph, who had re- signed his place on account of ill health, and took his seat in that body on the 21st of the same month. And now, fellow-citizens, without pur- suing the biography of these illustrious men further, for the present, let us turn our attention to the most prominent act of their lives, their participation in the Declaration of Independence. Preparatory to the introduction of that important measure, a committee, at the head of which was Mr. Adams, had reported a resolution, which Congress adopted on the lOtli of May, recom- mending, in substance, to all the Colo nies which had not already established governments suited to the exigencies of their affairs, to adopt such government as ivould, in the opinion of the representatives of the people, best conduce to the happi- ness and safety of their constituents in par- ticidar, and America in general. This significant vote was soon fol- lowed by the direct proposition which Richard Henry Lee had the honor to submit to Congress, by resolution, on the 7th day of June. The publLshed journal does not expressly state it, but there is no doubt, I suppose, that this resolution was in the same words, when originally submitted by Mr. Lee, as when finally passed. Having been dis- cussed on Saturday, the 8tli, and !Mou- day, the 10th of June, this resolution 1 Cicero de Ofliciis, Lib. I. § 43. 164 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. was on the last-mentioned day postponed for further consideration to the first day of July; and at the same time it was voted, that a committee be appointed to prepare a Declaration to the effect of the lesolution. This committee was elected by ballot, on the following day, and con- sisted of Thomas Jefferson, John Adams, Betijamin Franklin, Roger Sherman, and Ilobert R. Livingston. It is usual, when committees are elected by ballot, that their members should be arranged in order, according to the number of votes which each has received. Mr. Jefferson, therefore, had received the highest, and 'Mr. Adams the next highest number of votes. The difference is said to have been but of a single vote. Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams, standing thus at the head of the committee, were requested by the other members to act as a subcommittee to prepare the draft; and ;Mr. Jefferson drew up the paper. The original draft, as brought by him from his study, and submitted to the other members of the committee, with interlineations in the handwriting of Dr. Franklin, and others in that of i\lr. Adams, was in Mr. Jeffer- son's possession at the time of his death. ^ The merit of this paper is Mr. Jeffer- son's. Some changes were made in it at the suggestion of other members of the committee, and others by Congress while it was under discussion. But none of them altered the tone, the frame, tlie ar- rangement, or the general character of the instrument. As a composition, the Declaration is Mr. Jefferson's. It is the production of his mind, and tlie liigh honor of it belongs to him, clearly and absolutely. It has sometimes been said, as if it were a derogation from the merits of this paper, that it contains nothing new; that it only states grounds of proceed- ing, and presses topics of argument, 1 A fac-simile of tliis ever-memorable state paper, as dratted by Mr. Jefferson, with the iii- terliiitiitions alluded to in the text, is contained in Mr. .K-ffersiin's Writings, Vol. I. p. 146. See, also, in reference to 'he history of the Declara- tion, the Life and Works of John Adiir.4 Vol II. p. 512 et ic^. which had often been stated and presses before. But it was not the object of the Declaration to produce any thing new. It was not to invent reasons for inde- pendence, but to state those which gov- erned the Congress. For great and sufficient causes, it was proposed to declare independence ; and the proj er business of the paper to be drawn was to set forth those causes, and justify the authors of the measure, in any event of fortune, to the country and to posterity. The cause of American independence, moreover, was now to be presented to the world in such manner, if it might so be, as to engage its sympathy, to com- mand its respect, to attract its admira- tion ; and in an assembly of most able and distinguished men, Thomas Jkf- FEUSON had the high honor of being tlie selected advocate of this cause. To say that he performed his great work well, would be doing him injustice. To say that he did excellently well, admirably well, would be inadequate and halting praise. Let us rather say, that he .so discharged the duty assigned him, tliat all Americans may well rejoice tliat the work of drawing the title-deed of their liberties devolved upon him. Witli all its merits, there are those who have thought that there was one thing in the Declaration to be regretted; and tliat is. the asperity and apparent anger with which it speaks of the person of the king; the industrious ability with which it accumulates and charges upon him all the injuries which the Colonies had suffered from the mother country. Possibly some degree of injustice, now or hereafter, at home or abroad, may be done to the character of Mr. Jefferson, if this part of the Declaration be not placed in its proper light. Anger or re- sentment, certainly nnich less personal reproach and invective, could not prop- erly find place in a composition of such high dignity, and of such lofty and per- manent character. A single reflection on the original ground of disptite between England and the Colonies is sufficient to remove any unfavorable impression in this respect. The iuhabitants of all the Colonies, ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 16o wliile Colonios, admitted themselves bound by their allegiance to the king; but they disclaimed altogether the au- thority of Parliament; holding them- selves, in this respect, to resemble the condition of Scotland and Ireland before the respective unions of those kingdoms with England, when they acknowledged allegiance to the same king, but had each its separate legislature. The tie, tiierefore, which our Revolution was to break did not subsist between us and the British Parliament, or between us and the British government in the ag- gregate, but directly between us and the king himself. The Colonies had never admitted themselves subject to Parlia- ment. That was precisely the point of the original controversy. They had uni- formly denied that Parliament had au- thority to make laws for them. There was, therefore, no subjection to Parlia- ment to be thrown off.^ But allegiance to the king did exist, and had been uniformly acknowledged; and down to 1775 the most solemn assurances had been given that it was not intended to break that allegiance, or to throw it off. Therefore, as the direct object and only effect of the Declaration, according to the principles on which the controversy had been maintained on our part, were to sever the tie of allegiance which bound us to the king, it was properly and necessarily founded on acts of the 1 This question, of the power of Parliament over the Colonies, was discussed, with singular ability, by Governor Hutchinson on the one side, and the House of Kepresentatives of Massachu- setts on the other, in 1773. The argument of the House is in the form of an answer to the Gov- ernor's Message, and was reported by Jfr. Sam- uel Adams, Mr. Hancock, Mr. Hawley, Mr. Bowers, Mr. Hobson, Mr. Foster, Mr. Phillips, jnd Mr. Thayer. As the power of the Parlia- ment hai been acknowledged, so far at least as to affect us by laws of trade, it was not easy to settle the line of distinction. It was thought, howevei , to be very clear, that the charters of the Coliiuies had exempted them from the gen- eral l-igitilation of the British Parliament. See Massachusetts State Papers, p. 351. The impor- tant assistance rendered by John Adams in the preparation of the answer of the House to the Message of the Governor may be learned from the Life and Works of John Adams, Vol. II. p. 311 et teq. crown itself, as its justifying causes. Parliament is not so much as mentioned in the whole instrument. When odious and oppressive acts are referred to, it ia done by charging the king with confed- erating with others " in pretended acta of legislation"; the object being con- stantly to hold the king himself directly responsible for those measures which were the grounds of separation. Even the precedent of the English Revolution was not overlooked, and in this case, as well as in that, occasion was found to say that the king had abdicated the gov- ernment. Consistency with the princi- ples upon which resistance began, and with all the previous state papers issued by Congress, required that the Declara- tion should be bottomed on the misgov- ernnient of the king; and therefore it was properly fi-amed with that aim and to that end. The king was known, in- deed, to have acted, as in other cases, by his ministers, and with his Parliament; but as our ancestors had never admitted themselves subject either to ministers or to Parliament, there were no reasons to be given for now refusing obedience to their authority. This clear and obvious necessity of founding the Declaration on the misconduct of the king himself, gives to that instrument its personal applica- tion, and its character of direct and pointed accusation. The Declaration having been reported to Congress by the committee, the reso- lution itself was taken up and debated on the first day of July, and again on the second, on which last day it was agreed to and adopted, in these words: — " Resolved, That these united Colonies are, and of right ought to be, free and independent States; that they are ab- solved from all allegiance to the British crown, and that all political connection between them and the state of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dis- solved." Having thus passed the main resolu- tion, Congress proceeded to consider the reported draught of the Declaration. It was discussed on the second, and third, and FOURTH days of the month, in com- mittee of ths whole; and ou the last of 166 ADAMS AND JEFFERSU^. those days, being repoited from that committee, it received the final approba- tion and sanction of Congress. It was ordered, at the same time, that copies be sent to the several States, and that it be proclaimed at the head of the army. The Declaration thus published did not bear the names of the members, for as yet it had not been signed by them. It was authenticated, like other papers of the Congress, by the signatures of the Pres- ident and Secretary. On the 19th of July, as appears by the secret journal, Congress " Resolced, That the Declara- tion, passed on the fourth, be fairly en- grossed on parchment, with the title and style of ' The un.animous Declara- tion OF THE ThIHTEEN UnXTED StATES OF America ' ; and that the same, when engrossed, be signed by every member of Congress." And on the second day OF August following, "the Declara- tion, being engrossed and compared at the table, was signed by the members." So that it happens, fellow-citizens, that ■we pay these honors to their memory on the anniversary of that day (•2d of Au- gust) on which these great men actually signed their names to the Declaration. The Declaration was thus made, that is, it passed and was adopted as an act of Congress, on the fourth of July; it was tlien signed, and certified by the Presi- dent and Secretary, like other acts. The Fourth of July, therefore, is the an- niversary OF THE Declaration. But the signatures of the members present were made to it, being then engrossed on parchment, on the second day of August. Absent members afterwards signed, as they came in; and indeed it bears the names of some who were not chosen membei-s of Congress until after the fourth of July. The interest be- longing to tlie subject will be sufiicient, 1 hope, to justify these details.^ Tlie Congress of the Kevolution, fel- low-citizens, sat with closed doors, and no report of its debates was ever made. The discussion, therefore, which accom- 1 The official copy of the Declaration, as en- grossed and siciied by the members of Congress, is framed and preserved in the Hall over the Pateut-Oflice at Washiuyton. panied this great measure, has never been preserved, except in memoi-y and by tradition. But it is, I believe, doing no injustice to others to say, that the general opinion was, and uniformly has been, that in debate, on the side of in- dependence, John Adams had no equal. The great author of the Declaration him- self has expressed that opinion uniform- ly and strongly. " John Adams," said he, in the hearing of him who has now the honor to address you, " John Adams was om* colossus on the floor. Xot grace- ful, not elegant, not always fluent, in his public addresses, he yet came out with a power, both of thought and of expression, which moved us from our seats." For the part which he was here to perform, Mr. Adams doubtless w;is emi- nently fitted. He possessed a bold spirit, whicli disregarded danger, and a san- guine reliance on the goodness of the cause, and the virtues of the people, which led him to overlook all obstacles. His character, too, had been formed in troubled times. He had been rocked in the early storms of the controversy, and had acquired a decision and a hardihood proportioned to the severity of the disci- pline which he had undergone. He not only loved the American cause devoutly, but had studied and under- stood it. It was all familiar to him. He had tried his powers on the ques- tions which it involved, often and in various ways; and had brought to their consideration wliatever of argument or illustration the history of his own coun- try, the history of P2ngland, or the stores of ancient or of legal learning, could fur- nish. Every grievance enumerated ia the long catalogue of the Declaration had been the subject of his discussion, and the object of his remonstrance and reprobation. From 17G0, the Colonies, the rightjj of the Colonies, the liberties of the Colonies, and the wrongs inflicted on the Colonies, had engaged his con- stant attention; and it has surprised those who have had the opj^x)rtunity of witnessing it, with what full remem- brance and with what prompt recoUec tiou he could refer, in his exti'eme old ADAMS AND J1':FFERS0N. 167 age, to every act of Parliament affecting the Colonies, distinguisliiiig and stating their respective titles, sections, and pro- visions; and to all the Colonial memo- rials, remonstrances, and petitions, with whatever else belonged to the intimate and exact history of the times from that year to 1775. It was, in his own judg- ment, between these years that the American people came to a full under- standing and thorough knowledge of their rights, and to a fixed resolution of maintaining them; and bearing himself an active part in all important transac- tions, the controversy with England be- ing then in effect the business of his life, facts, dates, and particulars made an impression which was never effaced. lie was prepared, therefore, by educa- tion and discipline, as well as by natural talent and natural temperament, for the part which he was now to act. The eloquence of Mr. Adams resem- bled his general character, and formed, indeed, a part of it. It was bold, manly, and energetic; and such the crisis re- quired. When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valuable in speech farther than as it is connected with high intellectual and moral endowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness are the qualities which produce conviction. True eloquence, indeed, does not consist in speech. It cannot be brought from far. Labor and learning may toil for it, but they will toil in vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. Affected passion, intense ex- pression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire to it; they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like the out- breaking of a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with spontaneous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly ornaments and studied contriv- ances of speech, shock and disgust men, when their own lives, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their country, hang on the decision of the hour. Then words liave lost tiieir power, rhetoric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius it- self then feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then patriotism is eloquent; then self- devotion is eloquent. The clear con- ception, outrunning the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the dauntless spirit, speaking on th(* tongue, beaming from the eye, inform- ing every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his ob- ject, — this, this is eloquence ; or rather, it is something greater and higher than all eloquence, — it is action, noble, sub- lime, godlike action. In July, 1776, the controversy had passed the stage of argument. An appeal had been made to force, and opposing armies were in the field. Congress, then, was to decide whether the tie which had so long bound us to the parent state was to be severed at once, and severed for ever. All the Colonies had signified their resolution to abide by this decision, and the people looked for it with the most intense anxiety. And surely, feUow-citizens, never, never were men called to a more important political deliberation. If we contemplate it from the point where they then stood, no question could be more full of interest; if we look at it now, and judge of its importance by its effects, it appears of still greater mag- nitude. Let us, then, bring before us the assembly, which was about to decide a question thus big with the fate of empire. Let us open their doors and look in upon their deliberations. Let us survey the anxious and careworn countenances, let us hear the firm-toned voices, of this band of patriots. IIaxcock presides over the solemn sitting; and one of those not yet pre- pared to pronounce for absolute inde- pendence is on the floor, and is urging his reasons for dissenting from the Declaration. " Let us pause 1 This step, once taken, cannot be retraced. This reso- 168 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. lution, once passed, will cut off all hope of reconciliation. If success attend the arms of England, we shall then be no longer Colonies, with charters and with privileges ; these will all be forfeited by this act; and we shall be in the condi- tion of other conquered people, at the mercy of the conquerors. For ourselves. Me may be ready to run the hazard ; but are sve ready to carry the country to thai length? Is success so probable as to justify it? Where is the military, where the naval power, by which we are to resist the whole strength of the arm of England, — for she will exert that strength to Ih*' utmost? Can we rely on the constancy :;iid perseverance of the people? or will they not act as the people of other countries have acted, and, wearied with a long war, submit, in the end, to a worse oppression? ^^^lile we stand on our old ground, and insist on redress of grievances, we know we are right, and are not answerable for consequences. Nothing, then, can be imputed to us. But if we now change our object, carry our pretensions farther, and set up for absolute inde- pendence, we shall lose the sjnnpathy of mankind. We shall no longer be defending what we possess, but strug- gling for something which we never did possess, and M'hich we have solemnly and uniformly disclaimed all intention of pursuing, from the very outset of the troubles. Abandoning thus our old gi'ound, of resistance only to arbitrary acts of oppression, the nations will be- lieve the whole to have been mere pre- tence, and they will look on us, not as injured, but as ambitious subjects. I eh udder before this responsibility. It M .11 be on us, if, relinquishing the g. ound on which we have stood so long, and stood so safely, we now proclaim independence, and carry on the war for that object, while these cities burn, these pleasant fields whiten and bleach with the bones of their owners, and these streams run blood. It will be upon us. it will be upon us, if, failing to maintain this unseasonable and ill- judged declaration, a sterner despotism, nmiiitaiued by military jtower, shall be established over our posterity, when wc ourselves, given up by an exliausted, a harassed, a misled people, shall have expiated our rashness and atoned for our presumption on the scaffold." It was for Mr. Adams to reply to arguments like these. We know his opinions, and we know his character. He would commence with his accus tomed directness and earnestness. "Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand and my heart to this vote. It is true, indeed, that in the beginning we aimed not at indepen- dence. But there's a Di^onity which shapes our ends. The injustice of Eng- land has di'iven us to arms ; and, blinded to her own interest for our good, she has obstinately persisted, till indepen- dence is now within our grasp. We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why, then, should we defer the Declaration? Is any man so weak as now to hope for a reconciliation with England, which shall leave either safety to the country and its liberties, or safety to his own life and his own honor? Are not you, Sir, who sit in that chair, — is not he, our venerable colleagxie near you, — are you not both already the in-o- scribed and predestined objects of pun- ishment and of vengeance? Cut off from all hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the power of Eng- land remains, but outlaws? If we post- pone independence, do we mean to cany on, or to give up, the war? Do we mean to submit to the measures of Parliament, Boston Port Bill and all? Do we mean to submit, and consent that we our- selves shall be ground to powder, and our country and its rights trodden down in tlie dust? I know we do not mean to submit. We never shall submit. Do we intend to violate that most solemn obligation ever entered into by men, that plighting, before God. of our sacred honor to Washington, when, put- ting him forth to incur tlie dangers of war, as well as the political hazards of the times, we promised to adhere tu him, in every extremity, with our fortunes and our lives? I know there is not a man here, who wuuld not rather see ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 169 K a general conflagr.'ition sweep over the land, or an eartlKiuake sink it, than one jot or tittle of that plighted faith fall to the ground. For myself, having, twelve months ago, in this place, moved you, that George Washington be appointed commander of the forces raised, or to be raised, for defence of American liberty, ^ may my right hand forget her cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate or waver in the support I give him. The war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. And if the war must go on, why put off longer the Dec- 1 laration of Independence? That meas- ure will strengthen us. It will give us character abroad. The nations will then treat with us, which they never can do while we acknowledge ourselves subjects, in arms against our sovereign. Nay, I maintain that England herself will sooner treat for peace with us on the footing of independence, than con- sent, by repealing her acts, to acknowl- edge tliat her whole conduct towards us has been a course of injustice and op- pression. Iler pride will be less wound- ed by submitting to that com'se of things which now predestinates our in- dependence, than by yielding the points in controversy to her rebellious subjects. The former she would regard as the re- sult of fortune; the latter she would feel as her own deep disgrace. Wliy, then, why then. Sir, do we not as soon as possible change this from a civil to a national war? And since we must fight it through, why not put ourselves in a state to enjoy all the benefits of victory, if we gain the victory? " If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we shaU not fail. The cause will raise up armies; the cause will create navies. The people, the people, if we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry themselves, gloriously, through this struggle. I care not how fickle other people have been found. I know the people of these Colonies, and I know that resistance to British aggres- sion is deep and settled in their hearts 1 See Life and Works of John Adaras, VoL II. p. 417 et seq and cannot be eradicated. Even- Col- ony, indeed, has expressed its willing- ness to follow, if we but take tiie lead. Sir, the Declaration will insj>ire tlie people with increased courage. Instead of a long and bloody war for the resto- ration of privileges, for redress of griev- ances, for chartered immunities, held under a British king, set 1. of ore them the glorious object of entire indepen- dence, and it will breathe into thera anew the breath of life. Read this )eclaration at the head of the ai-m)'; very sword will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow nttered, to maintain it, or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish it from the pulpit; religion will approve it, and the love of religious liberty will cling round it, re- solved to stand with it, or fall with it. Send it to the public halls; proclaim it there; let them hear it who heard the first roar of the enemy's cannon; let them see it who saw their brothers and their sons fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and in the streets of Lexington and Concord, and the very walls will cry out in its support. " Sir, I know the uncertainty ol human affairs, but I see, I see clearly, through this day's business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not live to the time when this Declaration shall be made good. We may die ; die colonists; die slaves; die, it may be, ig- nominiously and on the scaffold. Be it so. Be it so. If it be the pleasure of Heaven that my country shall require the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready, at the appointed hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while I do live, let me have a country, or at least the hope of a coun- tiy, and that a free country. " But whatever may be our fate, be assured, be assured that this Declara- tion wnll stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood ; but it will stand, and it will richly compensate for )>oth. Through the thick gloom of the present, I see the brightness of the future, as the sun in heaven. We shall make this a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in oar graves, our children will 170 ADAMS A^'D JEFFERSON. honor it. They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, with bon- fires, and illuminations. On its annual return they will shed tears, copious, gushing tears, not of subjection and slaverj', not of agony and distress, but of exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is come. !My judgment apjjroves this measure, and my whole heart is in it. All that I have, and all that I am, and all that I hope, in this life, I am now ready here to stake upon it; and I leave off as I begun, that live or die, survive or perish, 1 am for the Declaration. It is my living sentiment, and by the bless- ing of God it shall be my dying senti- ment, Independence now, and Indepen- dence KOU EVER."^ And so that day shall be honored, illustrious prophet and patriot! so that day shall be honored, and as often as it returns, thy renown shall come along with it, and the glory of thy life, like the day of thy death, shall not fail from the remembrance of men. It would be unjust, fellow-citizens, on this occasion, while we express our veneration for him who is the imme- diate subject of these remarks, were we to omit a most respectful, affectionate, and grateful mention of those other gi'eat men, his colleagues, who stood with him, and with the same spirit, the same devotion, took part in the in- teresting transaction. Ha.ncock, the proscribed Hancock, exiled from his home by a military governor, cut off by proclamation from the mercy of the crown, — Heaven reserved for him the distinguished honor of ixitting this great question to the vote, and of writ- ing his own name first, and most con- spicuously, on that paichment wliich spoke defiance to tlie power of tlje crown of England. Tliere, too, is the name of that other proscribed patriot, Samuel Adams, a man who hungered and thirsted for the independence of his country, who thought the Declaration halted and lingered, being himself not 1 (^11 ilie aiithoi^liij) of this speech, see Note at thu end ul' the Discourse. only ready, but eager, for it, lonj? before it was projwsed; a man of the deei^est sagacity, the clearest foresight, and the profoundest judgment in men. And there is Gerry, himself among the ear- liest and the foremost of the patriots, found, when the battle of Lexington simimoned them to common coimsels, by the side of Warren; a man who lived to serve his comitry at home and abroad, and to die in the second place in the government. There, too, is the inflexible, tlie upright, the Spartan character, Robert Treat Paine. He also lived to ser\-e his country through the struggle, and then withdrew fiom her councils, only that he might give his labors and his life to his native State, in another relation. These names, fellow-citizens, are the treasm'es of the Commonwealth; and they are treasmes which grow brighter by time. It is now necessarj' to resume the nar- rative, and to finish with great brevity the notice of the lives of tliose whose virtues and services we have met to commemorate. Mr. Adams remained in Congress from its first meeting till November, 1777, when he was appointed Minister to France. He proceeded on that ser- vice in the February following, em- barking in the frigate Boston, from the shore of his native town, at the foot of Blount Wollaston. The year following, he was appointed commissioner to treat of peace with England. Returning to the United States, he was a dele- gate from Braintree in the Convention for framing the Constitution of this Commonwealth, in 1780.- At tlie latter end of the same year, he again went abroad in the diplomatic service of the country, and was employed at various coiu'ts, and occupied with various ne- gotiations, until 17SS. The particu- lars of these interesting and important services this occasion does not allow time to relate. In 1782 he concluded our first treaty with IloUaud. His ne- 2 In this Convention he served as chairman of the committee for preparing the draft of a Coustitutiuu. ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 171 gotiations with that republic, his efforts to persuade the States-General to recog- nize our independence, his incessant and indefatigable exertions to represent the American cause favorably on the Continent, and to counteract the designs of its enemies, open and secret, and his successful undertaking to obtain loans on the credit of a nation yet new and unknown, are among his most arduous, most useful, most honorable services. It was his fortune to bear a part in the negotiation for peace with England, and in something more than six years from the Declaration which he had so strenuously supported, he had the satis- faction of seeing the minister plenipo- tentiary of the crown subscribe his name to the instrument which declared that his "Britannic Majesty acknowl- edged the United States to be free, sovereign, and independent." In these important transactions, ^Mr. Adams's conduct received the marked approba- tion of Congress and of the countiy. ■\MiiIe abroad, in 1787, he published his ' ' Defence of the American Constitu- tions"; a work of merit and ability, though composed with haste, on the spur of a particular occasion, in the midst of other occupations, and under circumstances not admitting of careful re\'ision. The immediate object of the work was to comiteract the weight of opinions advanced by several popular European wTiters of that day, M. Tur- got, the Abbe de Mably, and Dr. Price, at a time when the people of the United States were employed in forming and revising their systems of government. Returning to the United States in 178S, he found the new government about going into operation, and was himself elected the first Vice-President, a situation which he filled with reputa- tion for eight years, at the expiration of which he was raised to the Presidential chair, as immediate successor to the im- mortal Washington. In this high sta- tion he was succeeded by ^Ir. Jefferson, aftt'r a memorable controversy between their respective friends, in 1801; and from that period his manner of life has been known to all who hear me. He has lived, for five-and-twenty years, with every enjoyment that could render old age happy. Not inattentive to the occurrences of the times, political cares have yet not materially, or for any long time, disturbed his repose. In 1820 he acted as Elector of President and Vice- President, and in the same year we saw him, then at the age of eighty-five, a member of the Convention of thig Commonwealth called to revise the Constitution. Forty years before, he had been one of those who formed that Constitution; and he had now the ])leas- ure of witnessing that there was little which the people desired to change.* Possessing all his faculties to the end of his long life, with an unabated love of reading and contemplation, in the centre of interesting circles of friend- ship and affection, he was blessed in his retirement with whatever of repose and felicity the condition of man allows. He had, also, other enjoyments. He saw around him that prosperity and general happiness which had been the object of his public cares and labors. Xo man ever beheld more clearly, and for a longer time,, the great and benefi- cial effects of the services rendered by himself to his country. That liberty which he so early defended, that inde- pendence of which he was so able an advocate and supporter, he saw, we trust, firmly and securely established. The population of the country thick ened around him faster, and extended wider, than his own sanguine predic- tions had anticipated; and the wealth, respectability, and power of the nation sprang up to a magnitude which it is quite impossible he could have expected to witness in his day. He lived also to behold those principles of civil freedom which had been developed, established, 1 Upon the organization of this bodv, 15th November, 1820, John Adams was elected its President: an office which the infirmities of ai^e compelled liim to decline. For the intert.'ting proceedings of the Convention on this occasion, the address of Chief Justice Parker, and the re plv of Mr. Adams, see Journal of Dehates and Proceedings in the Convention of F^eltcatef chosen to revise the Constitution of Massiihii setts, p 8 «< seg. 172 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON and practically applied in America, at- tract attention, command respect, and awaken imitation, in other regions of the globe ; and well might, and well did, he exclaim, " Where will the consequences of the American Revolution end'/" K any tL-ug yet remain to fill this cup of lifppi.-.fecs, let it be added, that he lived to see a great and uitelligent peo- ple bestow the highest honor in their gift where he had bestowed his own kindest parental affections and lodged his fondest hopes. Thus honored in life, thus happy at death, he saw the JUBILEE, and he died; and with the last prayers which trembled on his lips was the fervent supplication for his country, " Independence for ever ! " * Mr. Jefferson, having been occupied in the years 1778 and 1779 in the impor- tant service of revismg the laws of Vir- ginia, w'a.s elected Governor of that State, as successor to Patrick Henry, and held the situation when the State was invaded by the British arms. In 1781 he published his Notes on Virginia, a work which attracted attention in Europe as well as America, dispelled many misconceptions respecting this continent, and gave its author a place among men distinguished for science. In November, 1783, he again took his seat in tlie Continental Congress, but in the May following was appointed Minis- ter Plenipotentiary, to act abroad, in the negotiation of commercial treaties, with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams. He pro- ceeded to PVance, in execution of this mission, embarking at Boston; and that was the only occasion on which he ever visited tliis place. In 1785 he was ap- pointed Minister to France, the duties of which situation he continued to per- form until October, 1789, when he ob- tained leave to retire, just on the eve of that tremendous revolution which has so much agitated the world in our times. Mr. Jefferson's discharge of his diplo- matic duties was marked by great ability, diligence, and patriotism; and while he 1 For an account of Mr. Webster's last inter- view with Mr. Ailams, see March's Kciuinis- eences of Congress, o. €2. resided at Paris, in one of the most in« teresting periods, his character for Intel* ligence, his love of knowledge and of the society of learned men, distingiushed him in the highest circles of the French capital. No court in Europe had at that time in Paris a representative com- manding or enjoying higher regard, for political knowledge or for general at- tainments, than the minister of this then infant republic. Immediately on his return to his native country, at tlie organization of the government under the present Constitution, his talenl^i and experience recommended him to Presi- dent Washington for the first office in his gift. He was placed at the head of the Department of State. In this situ- ation, also, he manifested conspicuous ability. His correspondence with the ministers of other powers residing here, and his instructions to our own diplo- matic agents abroad, are among our ablest state papers. A thorough knowl- edge of the laws and usages of nations, perfect acquaintance with the immediate subject before hitn, great felicity, and still greater facility, in writing, show themselves in whatever effort his official situation called on him to make. It is believed by competent judges, that the diplomatic intercourse of the govern- ment of the United States, from the first meeting of the Continental Congress in 177-1 to the present time, taken together, would not suffer, in respect to the talent with which it has been conducted, by comparison with any thing which other and older governments can produce; and to the attainment of this respectability and distinction Mr. Jefferson has con- tributed his fuU part. On the retirement of General Wash- injiton from the Presidencv, and the election of Mr. Adams to that office in 1797, he was chosen Vice-President. \Miile presiding in this capacity over the deliberations of the Senate, he com- piled and published a Manual of Parlia- mentary Practice, a work of niore labor and more merit than is indicated by its size. It is now received as the general standard by which jMocoedings are reg- ulated, not only in both Houses of Con ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 173 gress, but in most of the other legislative bodies in the country. In 1801 he was elected President, in opposition to ^Ir. Adams, and re-elected in 180."), by a vote approaching towards unanimity. From the time of his final retirement from public life, in 1809, Mr. Jefferson lived as became a wise man. Sun'ounded by affectionate friends, his ardor in the pursuit of knowledge undiminished, with uncommon liealth and unbroken spirits, he was able to enjoy largely the rational ]>leasures of life, and to partake in that public prosperity which he had 60 much contributed to produce. His kindness and hospitality, the charm of his conversation, the ease of his man- ners, the extent of his acquirements, and, especially, the full store of Revolu- tionary incidents which he had treas- ured in his memory, and which he knew when and how to dispense, rendered his abode in a high degi-ee attractive to his admiring countrymen, while his high public and scientific character drew towards him every intelligent and edu- cated traveller from abroad. Both INIr. Adams and ]\Ir. Jefferson had the pleas- ure of knowing that the respect which they so largely received was not paid to tlieir official stations. They were not men made great by office; but great men, on whom the country for its own benefit had conferred office. There was that in them which office did not give, and which the relinquishment of office did not, and could not, take away. In their retirement, in the midst of their fellow-citizens, themselves private citi- zens, they enjoyed as high regard and esteem as when filling the most impor- tant places of public trust. There remained to Mr. Jefferson yet one other work of patriotism and benefi- cence, the establishment of a university in his native State. To this object he devoted years of incessant and anxious attention, and bv the enlightened liber- ality of the Legislature of Virginia, and the co-operation of other able and zeal- ous friends, he lived to see it accom- plished. May all success attend this infant seminary; and may those who enjoy its advantages, as often as their eyes shall rest on the neighboring height, recollect what they owe to their disin- terested and indefatigable benefactor; and may letters honor him who thus la- bored in the cause of letters 1 1 Thus useful, and thus respected, passed the old age of Thomas Jefferson. But time was on its ever-ceaseless wing, and was now bringing the last hour of thia illustrious man. He saw its approach with undisturbed serenity. He counted the moments as they passed, and beheld that his last sands were falling. That day, too, was at hand which he had helped to make immortal. One wish, one hope, if it were not presumptuous, beat in his fainting breast. Could it be so, miglit it i»lease God, he would desire once more to see the sun, once more to look abroad on the scene around him, on the great day of liberty. Heaven, in its mercy, fulfilled that prayer. He saw that sun, he enjoyed its sacred light, he tlianked God for this mercy, and bowed his aged head to the gi-ave. "Felix, non vit?e tantum claritate, sed etiam op- portunitate mortis." The last public labor of Mr. Jefferson naturally suggests the expression of the high praise which is due, both to him and to Mr. Adams, for their uniform and zealous attachment to learning, and to the cause of general knowledge. Of the advantages of learning, indeed, and of literary accomplishments, their own characters were striking recommenda- tions and illustrations. They were schol- ars, ripe and good scholars; widely acquainted with ancient, as well as mod- ern literature, and not altogether unin- structed in the deeper sciences. Theii acquirements, doubtless, were different, and so were the particular objects cl 1 Jlr. Jefferson himself considered his ser- vices in establishing the University of Viri^inia as among the most important rendered by him to the country. In Mr. Wirt's Eulogj-, it ia stated that a private memorandum was found among his papers, containing the fdllowing in- scription to be placed on his monunieiu. — "Here was buried Thomas Jefferson. Autlior of the Declaration of Independence, of the Statutes of Virginia for Religious Freedom, and Fathef of the University of Virginia." F'llngies OB Adams and Jefferson, p. 426. 174 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. their literary pursuits; as their tastes and characters, iu these respects, dif- fered like those of other men. Being, also, men of busy lives, with great ob- jects requiring action constantly before them, their attainments in letters did not become showy or obtrusive. Yet I would hazard the opinion, that, if we cou'd now ascertain all the causes which gave them eminence and distinction in the midst of the great men with whom they acted, we should find not among the least their early acquisitions in liter- ature, the resources which it furnished, the promptitude and facility which it communicated, and the wide field it opened for analogy and illustration; giving them thus, on every subject, a larger view and a broader range, as well for discussion as for the goverimient of their own conduct. Literature sometimes disgusts, and pretension to it much oftener disgusts, by appearing to hang loosely on the character, like something foreign or ex- traneous, not a part, but an ill-adjusted appendage; or by seeming to overload and weigh it down by its unsightly bulk, like the productions of bad taste in architecture, where there is massy and cumbrous ornament without strength or solidity of column. This has exposed learning, and especially classical learn- ing, to reproach. Men have seen that it might exist without mental superi- ority, without vigor, without good taste, and without utility. But in such cases classical learning has only not inspired natural talent; or, at most, it has but iua(l« original feebleness of intellect, and natural bluntness of perception, some- thing more conspicuous. The question, after all, if it be a question, is, whether literature, ancient as well as modern, does not assist a good understandiug, improve natural good taste, add polished arnK)r to native strength, and render its possessor, not only more capable of de- rivii:cj private happiness from contem- liliition and reflection, but more accom- plished also for action in the affairs of life, ami especially for public action. Those whose memories we now honor were learned men; but their learning was kept in its proper place, and made subservient to the uses and objects of life. They were scholars, not common nor superficial; but their scholarship was so in keeping with their character, so blended and inwrought, that careless observers, or bad judges, not seeing an ostentatious display of it, might infer that it did not exist; forgetting, or not knowing, that classical learning in men who act in conspicuous public stations, perform duties which exercise the faculty of writing, or address popular, deliber- ative, or judicial bodies, is often felt where it is little seen, and sometimes felt more effectually because it is not seen at all. But the cause of knowledge, in a more enlarged sense, the cause of general knowledge and of popular education, had no warmer friends, nor more pow- erful advocates, than Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson. On this foundation they knew the whole republican system rested ; and this great and all-important truth they strove to impress, by all the means in their power. In the early publication already referred to, Mr. Adams ex- presses the strong and just sentiment, that the education of the poor is more important, even to the rich themselves, than all their own riches. On this great truth, indeed, is founded that un- rivalled, that invaluable political and moral institution, our own blessing and the glory of our fathers, the New Eng- land system of free schools. As the promotion of knowledge had been the object of their regard through life, so these great men made it the sub- ject of their testamentary bounty- Mr. Jefferson is understood to have be- queathed his library to the University of Virginia, and tliat of Mr. Adams is be- stowed on the inhabitants of Quincy. Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson, fellow- citizens, were successively Presidents of the United States. The comparative merits of their respective administra- tions for a long time agitated and di- vided public opinion. They were rivals, each supported by numerous and power- ful jHirtions of the people, for the high- est ofilce. This contest, partly the cause ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 175 and partly the consequence of the long existence of two great political parties in the country, is now part of the his- tory of our government. We may nat- urally regret that any thing .should have occurred to create difference and discord between those who had acted harmoni- ously and efiioiently in the great con- cerns of the Revolution. But this is nni the time, nor this the occasion, for en- tering into the grounds of that differ- ence, or for attempting to discuss the merits of the questions which it involves. As practical questions, they were can- vassed when the measures which they regarded were acted on and adopted; and as belonging to history, the time has not come for their consideration. It is, pierhaps, not wonderful, that, when the Constitution of the United States first went into operation, differ- ent opinions should be entertained as to the extent of the powers conferred by it. Here was a natural source of diversity of sentiment. It is still less wonderful, that that event, nearly contemporary with our government under the present Constitution, which so entirely shocked all Europe, and disturbed our relations with her leading powers, should be thought, by different men, to have dif- ferent bearings on our own prosperity ; and that the early measures adopted by the government of the United States, in consequence of this new state of things, should be seen in opposite lights. It is for the future historian, when what now remains of prejudice and misconception shall have passed away, to state these different opinions, and pronounce im- partial judgment. In the mean time, all good men rejoice, and well may re- joice, that the sharpest differences sprung out of measures which, whether right or wrong, have ceased with the exigencies that gave them birth, and have left no permanent effect, either on the Consti- tution or on the general prosperity of the country. This remark, I am aware, may be supposed to have its exception in one measure, the alteration of the Constitu- tion as to the mode of choosing Presi- dent; but it is true in its general appli- cation. Thus the course of policy pursued towards France in 1798, on the one hand, and the measures of commer- cial restriction commenced in 1807, on the other, both sulijects of warm and severe opposition, have passed away and left nothing behiiul them. They were temporary, and, whether wise or unwise, their consequences were limited to their respective occasions. It is equally clear, at the same time, and it is equally grat- ifying, that those measures of botli ad- ministrations which were of durable importance, and which drew after them momentous and long remaining conse- quences, have received general appro- bation. Such was the organization, or rather the creation, of the navy, in the administration of Mr. Adams; such the acquisition of Louisiana in that of Mr. Jefferson. The country, it may safely be added, is not likely to be willing either to approve, or to reprobate, indis- criminately, and in the aggregate, all the measures of either, or of any, ad- ministration. The dictate of reason and of justice is, that, holding each one his own sentiments on the points of difference, we imitate the great men themselves in the forbearance and mod- eration which they have cherished, and in the mutual respect and kiiidne.s3 which they have been so much inclined to feel and to reciprocate. No men, fellow-citizens, ever served their country with more entire exemi> tion from every imputation of selfish and mercenary motives, than those to whose memory we are paying these proofs of respect. A suspicion of any disjxisi- tion to enrich themselves or to profit by their public employments, never rested on either. No sordid motive approached them. The inheritance which they have left to their children is of their charac- ter and their fame. Fellow-citizens, I will detain you no longer by this faint and feeble tribute to the memory of the illustrious dead. Even in other hands, adequate justice could not be done to them, within the limits of this occasion. Their highest, their best praise, is your deep conviction of their merits, your affectionate grati- tude for their labors and their services. 176 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. i It i^ not my voice, it is this cessation of ordiuarv pursuits, this arresting of ail attention, tll^^se solemn ceremonies, and this crowded house, which speak their eulog^y. Their fame, indeed, is safe. That is now treasured up beyond the roach of accident. Although no sculp- tured marble should rise to their mem- 01 y, nor engraved stone bear record of their deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they honored. Marble columns may, indeed, moulder into dust, time may erase all impress from the crumbling stone, but their fame remains; for with Amkrican lih- EUTY it rose, and with Amekic.\n' lib i ERTY ONLY Can it perish. It was the last swelling peal of j-onder choir, " TuF.IIi nODIES ARK BURIED IX PEACE, BUT THEIR NAME LIVETII EVERMORE." I catch that solemn song, I echo that lofty strain of funeral triumph, " TuEiK NAME LIVETII EVERMORE." Of the illustrious signers of the Dec- laration of Independence there now re- mains only Charles Carroll. lie seems an aged oak, standing alone on the plain, which time has spared a little longer after all its contemporaries have been levelled with the dust. Venerable object 1 we delight to gather round its trunk, while yet it stands, and to dwell beneath its shadow. Sole survivor of an assembly of as gi-eat men as the world has witnessed, in a transaction one of tiie most important that history records, what thoughts, what interesting reflections, must fill his elevated and devout soul I If he dwell on the past, how touching its recollections; if he sur- vey the present, how happy, how joyous, how full of the fruition of that hope which his ardent patriotism indulged; if he glance at the future, how does the prospect of his I'ouiitry's advancement almost be- wilder his weakened conception! Fortu- nate, distinguished patriot ! Interesting relic of the past I Let him know that, while we honor the dead, we do not for- get the living; and that there is not a heart hero which does not fervently pray that Heaven may keep him yet back from the society of his companions. And now. fellow-citizens, let us not re- tire from this occasion without a deep and solemn conviction of the duties which have devolved upon us. This lovely land, this glorious liberty, these benign insti- tutions, the dear purchase of our fathers, are ours ; ours to enjoy, ours to preserve, ours to transmit. Generations past and generations to come hold us responsible for this sacred trust. Our fathers, from behind, admonish us, with their anxious paternal voices; posterity calls out to us, from the bosom of the future ; the world turns hither its solicitous eyes; all, all conjure us to act wisely, and faithfully, in the relation which we sustain. We can never, indeed, pay the debt which is upon us; but by virtue, by morality, by religion, by the cultivation of every good principle and every good habit, we may hope to enjoy the blessing, through our day, and to leave it un- impaired to our children. Let us feel deeply how much of what we are and of what we possess we owe to this liberty, and to these institutions of government. Nature has, indeed, given us a soil which yields bounteously to the hand of in- dustry, the mighty and fruitful ocean is before us, and the skies over our heads shed health and vigor. But what are lands, and seas, and skies, to civilized man, without society, without knowl- edge, without morals, without religious culture; and how can these be enjoyed, in all their extent and all their excel- lence, but under the protection of wise institutions and a free government? Fel- low-citizens, there is not one of us, there is not one of us here present, who does not, at this moment, and at every mo- ment, experience, in his own condition, and in the condition of those most near and dear to him, the influence and the benefits of this liberty and these insti- tutions. Let us then acknowledge the blessing, let us feel it deeply and power- fully, let us cherish a strong affection for it, atui resolve to maintain and per- petuate it. The blood of our fatiiers, let it not have been shed in vain ; the great hope of posterity, let it not be blasted. The striking attitude, too, in which ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. 177 we stand to the world around us, a topic to which, I fear, I advert too often, and dwell on too lonp^, cannot be altogether omitted here. Neither individuals nor nations can perform their part well, until they understand and feel its importance, and comprehend and justly appreciate all the duties belonging to it. It is not to inflate national vanity, nor to swell a light and empty feeling of self-impor- tance, but it is that we may judge justly of our situation, and of our own duties, that I earnestly urge upon you this con- sideration of our position and our char- acter among the nations of the earth. It cannot be denied, but by those who would dispute against the sun, that with America, and in America, a new era commences in human affairs. This era is distinguished by free representative governments, by entire religious liberty, by improved systems of national inter- course, by a newly awakened and an unconquerable spirit of free inquiry, and by a diffusion of kiaowledge through the community, such as has been before alto- gether unknown and unheard of. Amer- ica, America, our country, fellow-citizens, our own dear and native land, is insep- arably connected, fast bound up, in fortune and by fate, with these great interests. If they fall, we fall with them; if they stand, it will be because we have maintained them. Let us con- template, then, this connection, which binds the prosperity of others to our own; and let iis manfully discharge all the duties which it imposes. If we cherish the virtues and the principles of our fathers, Heaven will assist us to carry on the work of liuman liberty and human happiness. Auspicious omens cheer us. Great examples are before us. Our own firmament now shines brightly upon our path. Washington is in the clear, upper sky. These other stars have now joined the American constel- lation; they circle round their centre, and the heavens beam with new light. Beneath this illumination let us walk the course of life, and at its close de- voutly commend our beloved country, the common parent of us all, to the Divine Benignity. 1 NOTE. Page 170. The question has often been asked, whether the anonymous speech against the Declaration of Independence, and the speech in support of it ascribed to John Adams in the preceding Discourse, are a portion of tlie debates wineli actually took place in 177G in the Continental Congress. Not only has this inquiry been propounded in the public papers, but several letters on the subject have been addressed to Mr. Webster ^nd his friends. For this reason, it may be proper to state, that those speeches were composed by Mr. Webster, after the manner of the ancient historians, as embodying in an impressive form the arguments relied upon by the friends and opponents of the measure, respectively. They of course represent tlie speeches that *vere actually made on both sides, but no report of the debates of this period has been preserved, and the orator on the pres- ent occasion had no aid in framing these addresses, but what was furnished by general tradition and the known line of 12 argument pursued by the speakers and writers of that day for and against the measure of Independence. The first sen- tence of the speech ascribed to Mr. Adams was of course suggested by the parting scene with Jonatiian Sewall, as described by Mr. Adams himself, in the Preface to the Letters of Novanglus and Massachu- settensis. So much interest has been taken in this subject, that it has been thought itroiu-r, by way of settling the question in the most authentic manner, to give publicity to the following answer, written by Mr. Webster to one of the letters of inquiry above al- luded to. " Washington, 22 January, 1846. "Dear Sir: — " I have the honor to acknowledge the receipt of vour letter of the 18th instant. Its contents hariUv surprise me, as I have received very nianv" similar cniiuiumications. "Your inciuiry is easily answered. The Con- gress i)f the Kevohition sat with closed doors. Its proceedings were made known to the iiuhlic from time to time, by printing iu journal ; bul 178 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON. the debates were not published. So far as I know, there is not existing, in print or manu- ecript, the speech, or any part or fragment of the speech, delivered by Mr. Adanison the ques- tion of the Declaration of Independence. We only know, from the testimony of his auditors, that he spoke with remarkable ability and char- acteristic earnestness. " The day after the Declaration was made, Mr. Adams, In writing to a friend,' declared the event to be one that ' ought to be commemorat- ed, as tlie dav of deliverance, by solemn acts of devotion to 6od Almighty. It ought to be sol- emnized with pomp and parade, with shows, ga nes, sports, guns, bells, Doafires, and illumi- ^ See Inciters of John Adams to his Wife, Vol. I. p. 128, note. nations, from one end of this continent to the other, from this time forward, for evermore.' "And on the day of his death, hearing the noise of bells and cannon, he at'ked the occasion. On being reminded that it was 'Independent day,' he replied, 'Independence for ever'.' These expressions were introduced into tiie speech supposed to have been made by him. For the rest I must be answerable. The S[)eech was written by me, in my house in Boston, the day before the delivery of the Discourse iu lan- eull llall ; a poor substitute, I am sure it would appear to be, if we could now see the speech actually made by Mr. Adams on that transceu- dently important occasion. " 1 am, respectfully, " Your obedient servant, ''DjUOKL WKB8TKR." THE CASE OF OGDEN AND SAUNDERS. iN ARGIBIENT MADE IN THE CASE OF OGDEN AND SAUNDERS, IN TUF SUPREME COURT OF THE UNITED STATES, JANUARY TERM, 1827. [Tni9 was an action of assumpsit, brought originally in the Circuit Court of Louisiana, by Saunders, a citizen of Kentucky, against ()\rden, a citizen of Louisiana. The plain- tiff below declarud upon certain bills of exchange, drawn on the 30th of September, 1806, by one Jordan, at Lexington, in the State of Kentucky, upon the defendant below, Ogden, in the city of New York, (the defendant then being a citizen and resident of the State of New Y'ork,) ac- cepted by him at the city of New York, and protested for non-payment. The defendant below pleaded several pleas, among which was a certificate of discharge under the act of the legislature of the State of New York, of April ;3d, 1801, for the relief of insolvent debtors, commonly called the Three-Fourths Act. The jury found the facts in the form of a special verdict, on which the court ren- dered a judgment for the plaintiff below, and the cause was brought by writ of error before this court. The question which arose under this plea, as to the validity of the law of New York as being repugnant to the Constitution of the United States, was argued at February term, 1824, by Mr. Clay, Mr. D. B. Ogden, and Mr. Haines, for theplaintiff in error, and by Mr. Webster and Mr. Wheaton, for the defendant iu error, and the cause was continued for advisement until the present term. It was again ar- gued at the present term, by Mr. Webster and Mr. Wheaton, against the validity, and bv the Attorney-General, Mr. E. Living- ston, Mr D. B. Ogden, Mr. Jones, and Mr. Sampson, for the validity. Mr. Wheaton opened the argument for the defendant in error ; he was followed by the counsel for the plaintiff in error; and Mr. Webster replied as follows.] The question arising in this case is not more important, nor so important even, in its bearing on individual cases of private right, as in its character of a public political question. The Consti- tution was intended to accomplish a great political object. Its design was not so much to prevent injustice or in- jury in one case, or in successive single ciises, as it was to make general salutary provisions, which, in their operation, should give security to all contracts, stability to credit, uniformity among all the States in those things which mate- rially concern the foreign commerce of the country, and their own credit, trade, and intercourse with each other. The real question, is, therefore, a much broader one than has been argued. It is this: Whether the Constitution has not, for general political purposes, or- dained that bankrupt laws should be established only by national authority? We contend that such was the intention of the Constitution; an intention, as we think, plainly manifested iu several of its provisions. The act of New York, under which this question arises, provides that a debtor may be discharged from all his debts, upon assigning his property to trustees for the use of his creditors. When applied to the discharge of debts contracted before the date of the law, this court has decided that the act is invalid.^ The act itself makes no dis- tinction between past and future debts, but provides for the discharge of both in the same manner. In the case, then, of a debt already existing, it is admitted 1 Sturges V. Crowuiashield, 4 Wheat. Rep. 122. 180 THE CASE OF OGDEN AND SAUNDERS. that the act does impair the obligation of contracts. We wish the full extent of this decision to be well considered. It is not merely that the legislature of the State cannot interfere by law, in the particular case of A or B, to injure or impair rights which have become vested under contracts; but it is, that they Lave no power by general law to regu- late the manner in which all debtors may be discharged from subsisting con- tracts; in other words, they cannot pass general bankrupt laws to be applied in presenti. Now, it is not contended that such laws are unjust, aud ought not to be passed by any legislature. It is not said that they are unwise or impolitic. On the contrary, we know the general practice to be, that, when bankrupt laws are established, they make no dis- tinction between present and future debts. While all agree that special acts, made for individual cases, are un- just, all admit that a general law, made for all cases, may be both just and poli- tic. The question, then, which meets us on the threshold is this : If the Con- stitution meant to leave the States the power of establishing systems of bank- ruptcy to act upon future debts, what great or important object of a political nature is answered by denj'ing the power of making such systems applicable to existing debts? The argument used in Sturges v. Crowninshield was, at least, a plausible and consistent argument. It maintained that the prohibition of the Constitution was levelled only against interferences in individual cases, and did not apply to general laws, whether those laws were retrospective or prospective in their operation. But the court rejected that conclusion. It decided that the Consti- tution was intended to apply to general laws or systems of bankruptcy ; that an act providing that all debtors might be discharged fi-om all creditors, upon cer- tain conditions, was of no more validity than an act ])roviding that a particular debtor, A, .should be discharged on the same conditions from his particular cred- itor. B. It being thus decided that general laws are within the prohibition of the Constitution, it is for the plaintiff in error now to show on what ground, con- sistent with the general objects of the Constitution, he can establish a distinc- tion which can give effect to those gen- eral laws in their application to future debts, while it denies them effect in their application to subsisting debts. The words are, that "no State shall pass any law impairing the obligation of contracts." The general operation of all such laws is to impair that obliga- tion ; that is, to discharge the obligation without fulfilling it. This is admitted; and the only ground taken for the dis- tinction to stand on is, that, when the law was in existence at the time of the making of the contract, the parties must be supposed to have reference to it, or, as it is usually expressed, the law is made a part of the contract. Before consid- ering what foundation there is for this argument, it may be well to inquire what is that obligation of contracts of which the v^oustitution speaks, and whence is it derived. The definition given by the court in Sturges v. Crowninshield is sufficient for our present purpose. " A contract," say the court, " is an agreement to do some particular thing; the law binds the party to perform this agreejnent, and this is the obligation of the con- tract." It is indeed probable that the Consti- tution used the words in a somewhat more popular sense. We speak, for ex- ample, familiarly of a usurious contract, and yet we say, speaking technically, that a usurious agreement is no con- tract. By the obligation of a contract, we should understand the Constitution to mean, the duty of performing a legal agreement. If the contract be lawful, the party is bound to perform it. But bound by what? What is it that binds him? And this leads us to what we re- gard as a jM'incipal fallacy in the argu- ment on the other side. That argument snpiK)ses, and insists, that the whole obligation of a contract has its origin in the m'laicipal law. This position we THE CASE OF OGDEN AND SAUNDERS. ISI oonhovert. We do not say that it is that obligation which springs from con- science merely; but we deny that it is only such as springs from the particular law of the place where the contract is made. It must be a lawful contract, doubtless; that is, permitted and al- lowed; because society has a right to prohibit all such contracts, as well as all Buch actions, as it deems to be mischiev- ous or injurious. But if the contract be such as the law of society tolerates, in other words, if it be lawful, then we say, the duty of performing it springs from universal law. And this is the concurrent sense of all the writers of authority. The duty of performing promises is thus shown to rest on universal law; and if, departing from this well-estab- lished principle, we now follow the teachers who instruct us that the obli- gation of a contract has its origin in the law of a particular State, and is in all cases what that law makes it, and no more, and rto less, we shall probably find ourselves involved in inextricable difficulties. A man promises, for a val- uable consideration, to pay money in New York. Is the obligation of that contract created by the laws of that State, or does it subsist independent of those laws? We contend that the obli- gation of a contract, that is, the duty of performing it, is not created by the law of the particular place where it is made, and dependent on that law for its exist- ence; but that it may subsist, and does subsist, without that law, and indepen- dent of it. The obligation is in the contract itself, in the assent of the par- ties, and in the sanction of universal law. This is the doctrine of Grotius, Vattel, Burlamaqui, Pothier, and Ru- therforth. Tlie contract, doubtless, is necessarily to be enforced by the munici- pal law of the place where performance is demanded. The municipal law acts on the contract after it is made, to com- pel its execution, or give damages for its violation. But this is a very differ- ent thing from the same law being the origin or fountain of the contract. Let us illustrate this matter by an ex- ample. Two persons contract together in New York for the delivery, by one to the other, of a domestic animal, a uten- sil of husbandry, or a weapon of war. This is a lawful contract, and, while the parties remain in New York, it is to be enforced by the laws of that State. But if they remove with the article to Penn- sylvania or Maryland, there a new law comes to act upon the contract, and to apply other remedies if it be broken. Thus far the rem'^dies are furnished by the laws of society. But suppose the same parties to go together to a savage wilderness, or a desert island, bej'ond the reach of tlie laws of any society. The obligation of the contract still sub- sists, and is as perfect as ever, and is now to be enforced by another law, that is, the law of nature; and the party to whom the promise was made has a right to take by force the animal, the utensil, or the weapon that was promised him. The right is as perfect here as it was in Pennsylvania, or even in New York; but this could not be so if the obligation were created by the law of New York, or were dependent on that law for its existence, because the laws of that State can have no operation beyond its terri- tory. Let us reverse this example. Suppose a contract to be made between two persons cast ashore on an uninhab- ited territory, or in a place over which no law of society extends. There are such places, and contracts have been made by individuals casually there, and these contracts have been enforced in courts of law in civilized communities. Whence do such contracts derive their obligation, if not from universal law? If these considerations show us that the obligation of a lawful contract doea not derive its force from the particular law of the place where made, but may exist where that law does not exist, and be enforced where that law has no va- lidity, then it follows, we contend, that any statute which diminishes or lessens its obligation does impair it. whether it precedes or succeeds the contract in date. The contract having an indepen- dent origin, whenever the law comes to exist together with it, and interfere* 182 THE CASE OF OGDEN AND SAUNDERS. with it, it lessens* we say, and impairs, its own original and independent obli- gation. In the case before the court, the contract did not owe its existence to the particular law of Xew York ; it did not depend on that law, but could be enforced without the territory of that State, as well as within it Nev^rthe- less, though legal, though thus indepen- dently existing, though thus binding the party everywhere, and capable of being enforced everywhere, yet the stat- ute of Xew York says that it shall be discharged without payment. This, we say, impairs the obligation of that con- tract. It is admitted to have been legal in its inception, legal in its full extent, and capable of being enforced by other tribunals according to its terms. An act, then, purporting to discharge it without payment, is, as we contend, an act impairing its obligation. Here, however, we meet the opposite argument, stated on different occasions in different terms, but usixally summed up in this, that the law itself is a part of the contract, and therefore cannot im- pair it. AMiat does this mean? Let us seek for clear ideas. It does not mean that the law gives any particular con- Btmction to the terms of the contract, or that it makes the promise, or the con- sideration, or the time of performance, other than is expressed in the instru- ment itself. It can only mean, that it is to be taken as a part of the contract, or understanding of the parties, that the contract itself shall be enforced by such laws and regulations, respecting remedy and for the enforcement of contracts, as are in being in the State where it is made at the time of entering into it. This is meant, or nothing very clearly intelligible is meant, by saying the law \'\ part of the contract. There is no authority in adjudged oa^es for the plaintiff in error but the State decisions which have been cited, and, as has already been stated, they all rest on this reason, that the law is part of the contract. Against this we contend, — Ist. That, if the proposition were true, the consequence would not follow. 2d. That the proposition itself cannot be maintained. 1. If it were true that the law is to be considered as part of the contract, tho consequence contended for would not follow; because, if this statute be part of the contract, so is every other legal or constitutional provision existing at the time which affects the contract, or which is capable of affecting it ; and especially this very article of the Con- stitution of the United States is part of the contract. The plaintiff in error ar- gues in a complete circle. He supi>oses the parties to have had reference to it because it was a binding law, and yet he proves it to be a binding law only upon the ground that such reference was made to it. We come before the court alleg- ing: the law to be void, as unconstitu- tional ; they stop the inquiry by opposing to us the law itself. Is this logical? Is it not precisely ohject'io eju-^, cujus dissolulio petitur? If one bring a bill to set aside a judgment, is that judgment itself a good plea in bar to the bill? We propose to inquire if this law is of force to control our contract, or whether, by the Constitution of the United States, such force be not denied to it. The plain- tiff in error stops us by sapng that it does control the contract, and so arrives shortly at the end of the debate. Is it not obvious, that, supposing the act of New York to be a part of the contract, the question still remains as undecided as ever. What is that act? Is it a law, or is it a nullity? a thing of force, or a thing of no force? Suppose the parties to have contemplated this act, what did they contemplat<3? its words only, or its legal effect? its words, or the force which the Constitution of the United States allows to it? If the parties contem- plated any law, they contemplated all the law that bore on their contract, the aggregate of all the statute and constitu- tional provisions. To suppose that they had in view one statute without regard- ing others, or that they contemplated a statute without considering that para- mount constitutional pro>Tsions might control or qualify that statute, or abro- gate it altogether, is unreasonable and THE CASE OF OGDEN AND SAUNDERS. 183 inadmissible. " This contract," says one of the autliorities relied on, " is to be construed as if the law were specially recited in it." Let it be so for the sake of argument. But it is also to be con- strued as if the prohibitory clause of the Constitution were recited in it, and this brings us back again to the precise point fron\ which we departed. The Constitution always accompanies ihe law, and the latter can have no force which the former does not allow to it. If the reasoning were thro\\-n into the foi n of special pleading, it would stand thus : the plaintiff declares on his debt ; the defendant pleads his discharge under the law ; the plaintiff alleges the law un- constitutional ; but the defendant says, You knew of its existence ; to which the answer is obvious and irresistible, I knew its existence on the statute-book of Xew York, but 1 knew, at the same time, it wius null and void under the Con- stitution of the United States. The language of another leading de- cision is, "A law in force at the time of making the contract does not violate that contract ' ' ; but the very question is, whether there be any such law "in force"; for if the States have no au- thority to pass such laws, then no such law can be in force. The Constitution is a part of the contract as much as the law, and was as much in the con- templation of the parties. So that the proposition, if it be admitted that the law is part of the contract, leaves us just where it found us; that is to say, under the necessity of comparing the law with the Constitution, and of deciding by such comparison whether it be valid or invalid. If the law be unconstitu- tional, it is void, and no party can be supposed to have had reference to a void law. If it be constitutional, no reference to it need be supposed. 2. But the proposition itself cannot be maintained. The law is no part of the contract. "VMiat part is it? the prom- ise? the consideration? the condition? Clearly, it is neither of these. It is no term of the contract. It acts upon the contract only when it is broken, or to discharge the party from its obligation after it is broken. The municipal lav» is tJie force of society employed to com- pel the performance of contracts. In every judgment in a suit on contract, the damages are given, and the impris- onment of the person or sale of goods awarded, not in performance of the con- tract, or as part of the contract, but as an indemnity for the breach of the con tract. Even interest, which is a stron<; case, where it is not expressed in the contract itself, can only be given as damages. It is all but absurd to say that a man's goods are sold on a Jieri facias, or that he himself goes to jail, in pursuance of his contract. These are the penalties which the law inflicts for the breach of his contract. Doubtless, parties, when they enter into contracts, may well consider both what their rights and what their liabilities will be by the law, if such contracts be broken;, but this contemplation of consequences which can ensue only when the contract is broken, is no part of the contract it- self. The law has nothing to do with- the contract till it be broken; how, then, can it be said to form a part of the con- tract itself? But there are other cogent and more specific reasons against considering the- law as part of the contract. (1.) If the law be part of the contract, it cannot be- repealed or altered; because, in such, case, the repealing or modifying law it- self would impair the obligation of the- contract. The insolvent law of New York, for example, authorizes the dis- charge of a debtor on the consent of two ■ thirds of his creditors. A subsequent act requires the consent of three fourths ; but if the existing law be part of the contract, this latter law would be void. In short, nothing which is part of the contract can be varied but by consent of the parties ; therefore the argument runs in absurdum; for it proves that no laws for enforcing the contract, or giving remedies upon it, or any way affeciing it, can be changed or modified between its creation and its end. If the law in question binds one party on the ground of assent to it, it binds both, and binds them until they agree to termiuate its 184 THE CASE OF OGDEN AND SAUNDERS. operation. (2.) If the party be bound by an implied assent to the law, as there- by making the law a part of the contract, how would it be if the parties had ex- pressly dissented, and agreed that the law should make no part of the contract? Suppose the promise to have been, that the promisor would pay at all events, and not take advantage of the statute; still, •jvould not the statute operate on the whole, — on tliis particular agi-eement and all? and does not this show that the law is no part of the contract, but some- thing above it? (;3.) If the law of the place be paii; of the contract, one of its terms and conditions, how could it be enforced, as we all know it might be, in another jurisdiction, which should have uo regard to the law of the place? Sup- pose the parties, after the contract, to remove to another State, do they carry the law witli them as part of their con- tract? We all know they do not. Or take a common case. Some States have laws abolishing imprisonment for debt ; these laws, according to the argument, are all parts of the contract; how, then, can the party, when sued in another State, be imprisoned contrary to the terms of his contract? (4.) The argu- ment proves too much, inasmuch as it applies as strongly to prior as to subse- quent contracts. It is founded on a supposed assent to the exercise of legis- lative authority, without considering whether that exercise be legal or illegal. But it is equally fair to found the argu- ment ou an implied assent to the poten- tial exercise of that authority. The inq lied reference to the control of legis- lative power is as reasonable and as strong when that power is dormant, as while it is in exercise. In one case, tlie arg'iment is, " The law existed, you knew it, and acquiesced." In the other it is, " The power to pass the law exi.sted, you knew it, and took your chance." There is as clear an assent in one instance as in the other. Indeed, it is more reasonable and more sensible to imply a general assent to all the laws of society, present and to come, from the fact of living in it, than it is to imply a particular assent to a particular existing enactment. The true view of the mattei is, that every man is presumed to sub- mit to all power which may be lawfully exercised over him or his right, and no one should be presumed to submit to illegal acts of power, whether actual or contingent. (5.) But a main objection to this argument is, that it would render the whole constitutional provision icu»» and inoperative; and no explanatoiy words, if such words had been added in the Con.stitution, could have prevented this consequence. The law, it is said, is part of the contract ; it cannot, there- fore, impair the contract, because a con- tract cannot impair itself. Now, if this argument be sound, the case would have been the same, whatever words the Con- stitution had used. If, for example, it had declared that no State should pass any law impairing contracts pro.ectfully request the bench to recon- sider this point. We think it could uot THE CASE OF OGDEN AND SAUNDERS. 187 nave bean Intended that both the States and general government sliould exercise this power; and therefore, that a grant to one implies a prohibition on the other. But not to press a topic which the court has already had under its consideration, ■we contend, that, even without reading the clauses of the Constitution in the connection which we have suggested, and which is believed to be the true one, the prohibition in the tenth section, taken by itself, does forbid the enact- ment of State bankrupt laws, as applied to future as well as present d«^bts. We argue this from the words of the prohi- bition, from the association they are found in, and from the objects intended. 1. The words are general. The States can pass no law impairing contracts; that is, any contract. In the nature of things a law may impair a future con- tract, and therefore such contract is within the protection of the Constitu- tion. The words being general, it is for the other side to show a limitation; and this, it is submitted, they have wholly failed to do, unless they shall have es- tablished the doctrine that the law itself is part of the contract. It may be added, that the particular expression of the Con- stitution is worth regarding. The thing prohibited is called a law, not an act. A law, in its general acceptation, is a rule prescribed for future conduct, not a legislative interference with existing riehts. The framers of the Constitu- tion would hardly have given the appel- lation of law to violent invasions of individual right, or individual property, by acts of legislative power. Although, doubtless, such acts fall within this pro- hibition, yet they are prohibited also by general principles, and by the constitu- tions of the States, and therefore further provision against such acts was not so necessary as against other mischiefs. 2. The most conclusive argument, per- haps, arises from the connection in which the clause stands. The words of the prohibition, so far as it applies to civil rights, or rights of property, are, that " no State shall coin money, emit bills of cedit, make any thing but gold and silver coin a tender in the payment of debts, or pass any law impairing the ob- ligation of contracts." The prohibition of attainders, and ex post facto laws, re- fers entirely to criminal proceedings, and therefore should be con.sidered as stand- ing by itself; but the other parts of the prohibition are connected by the sub- ject-matter, and ought, therefore, to be construed together. Taking the words thus together, according to their natural connection, how is it possible to give a more limited construction to the term "contracts," in the last branch of the sentence, than to the word "debts," in that immediately preceding? Can a State make any thing but gold and sil- ver a tender in payment of future debts? This nobody pretends. But what ground is there for a distinction? No State shall make any thing but gold and silver a tender in the payment of debts, nor pass any law impairing the obligation of con tracts. Now, by what reasoning is it made out that the debts here spoken of are any debts, either existing or future, but that the contracts spoken of are sub- sisting contracts only? Such a distinc- tion seems to us wholly arbitrary. We see no ground for it. Suppose the arti- cle, where it uses the word debtn, had used the word contracts. The sense would have been the same then that it now is; but the identity of terms would have made the nature of the distinction now contended for somewhat more obvi- ous. Thus altered, the clause would read, that no State should make any thing but gold and silver a tender in dis- charge of contracts, nor pass any law im- pairing the obligation of contracts; yet the first of these expressions would have been held to apply to all contracts, and the last to subsisting contracts only. This shows the consequence of what is now contended for in a strong light. It is certain that the substitution of the woi-d contracts for debts would not alter the sense; and an argument that could not be sustained, if such substitution were made, cannot be sustained now. We maintain, therefore, that, if tender laws may not be made for future debts, neitlier can bankrupt laws be made for future contracts. All the arguments used here 188 THE CASE OF OGDEN AXD SAUNDERS. may be applied with equal force to ten- der laws for future debts. It may be said, for instance, that, when it speaks of debts, the Constitution means existing debts, and not mere possibilities of fu- ture debt; that the object was to pre- serve vested rights; and that if a man, after a tender law had passed, had con- tracted a debt, the manner in which that tender law authorized that debt to be discharged became part of the contract, and that the whole debt, or whole obli- gation, was thus qualified by the pre- existing law, and was no more than a contract to deliver so much paper money, or whatever other article might be made a tender, as the original bargain ex- pressed. Arguments of this sort will not be found wanting in favor of tender laws, if the court yield to similar argu- ments in favor of bankrupt laws. These several prohibitions of the Con- stitution stand in the same paragraph; they have the same purpose, and were introduced for the same object; they are expressed in words of similar import, in grammar, and in sense ; they are subject to the same construction, and we think no reason has yet been given for impos- ing an important restriction on one part of them, which does not equally show that the same restriction might be im- posed also on the other part. We have already endeavored to main- tain, that one great political object in- tended by the Constitution would be defeated, if this construction were al- lowed to prevail. As an object of polit- ical regulation, it was not important to prevent the States from passing bank- rupt laws applicable to present debts, while the power was left to them in re- gard to future debts; nor was it at all important, in a political point of view, to prohibit tender laws as to future debts, while it was yet left to tiie States to pass laws for the discharge of sucli debts, which, after all, are little differ- ent in principle from tender laws. Look at the law before the com-t in this view. It provides, that, if the debtor will sur- render, offer, or tender to trustees for the benefit of his creditors, all his estate and effects, he shall be discharged from all his debts. If it had authorized a ten- der of any thing but money to any one creditor, though it were of a value equal to the debt, and thereupon provided for a discharge, it would have been clearly in- valid. Yet it is maintained to be gor the one thousand dollars. He was not able to pay the whole, but gave him one hundred five-franc pieces. Crowninshield related to him the particulars of the murder, told him where the club was hid, and said he was sorry Joseph had not got the right will, for if he had known there was another, he would have got it. Joseph sent Frank afterwards to find and destroy the club, but he said he could not find it. When Joseph made the confession, he told the place where the club was concealed, and it was there found ; it was heavy, made of hick- ory, twenty-two and a half inches long. <>f a smooth surface and large oval head, loaded with lead, and of a form adapted to give a mortal blow on the skull without breaking the skin ; the handle was suited for a firm grasp. Crowninshicld said he turned it in a lathe. Joseph admitted he wrote the two anonymous letters. Crowninshield had hitherto maintained a stoical composure of feeling; but wlien he was informed of Knapp's arrest, his knees smote beneath him, the sweat started out on his stern and pallid face, and he sub- sided upon his bunk. Palmer was brought to Salem in irons on the od of June, and committed to prison. Crowninshield saw him tiiken from the car- riage. He w as put in the cell directly uiuler that in which Crowninshield was kept. Several members of the Committee entered Palmer's cell to talk with him ; while they were talking, they lieard a loud whistle, and, on looking up, saw that Crowninshield liad i>icked away the mortar from the crev- ice between the blocks of the granite rioor of his cell. After the loud whistle, he cried out," Palmer! Palmer!" and soon let down a string, to which were tied a pencil and a slip of paper. Two lines of poetry were THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 193 .vritten nn the p.iper, in order tliat, if Palmer was really there, he should make it known by capping the verses Palmer shrunk away into a corner, and was soon trans- ferred to another cell. He seemed to stand in awe of Crowninshield. On the liitli of June a quantity of stolen goods was found concealed in tlie barn of Crowninshield, in consequence of informa- tion from Palmer. Crowninshield, thus finding the proofs of hi? guilt and depravity thicken, on the 1.5th of June committed suicide by hanging him- self to the bars of his cell with a handker- chief. He left letters to his father and brother, expressing in general terms the viciousness of his life, and his hopelessness of escape from punishment. \Vhen his associates in guilt heard his fate, they said it was not unexpected by them, for they had often lieard him say he would never live to submit to an ignominious punish- nient. A special term of the Supreme Court was held .It Salem on the 20tli of July, for the trial of the prisoners charged with the murder; it continued in session till the 20th of August, with a few days' intermission. An indictment for the murder was found agjiinst John Francis Knapp, as principal, and Joseph J. Knapp, Jr. and George Crowninshield, as accessories. Selinan and Chase were discharged by the Attorney- General. The principal, John Francis Knapp, was first put on trial. As the law then stood, an accessory in a murder could not be tried until a principal had been convicted. He was defended by Messrs. Franklin Dexter and William H. Gardiner, advocates of high reputation for ability and eloquence ; the trial was long and arduous, and the wit- nesses numerous. His brother Joseph, who had made a full confession, on the govern- ment's promise of impunity if he would in good faith tesiify the truth, was brought into court, called to the stand as a witness, but declined to testify. To convict the prisoner, it was necessary for the govern- ment to prove that he was present, actually or constructively, as an aider or abettor in the murder. The evidence was strong that there was a conspiracy to commit the mur- der, that the prisoner was one of the con- spirators, that at the time of the murder he was in Brown Street at the rear of Mr. White's garden, and the jury were satisfied that he was in that place to aid and abet in the murder, ready to afford assistance, if necessary. He was convicted. Joseph J. Knapp, Jr. was afterwards tried as an accessory before the fact, and con- victed. George Crowninshield proved an alibi, and was discharged. The execution of John Francis Knapp and Joseph J. Knapp, Jr. closed the tragedy. if Joseph, after turning State's evidence. 13 had not changed his mind, neither he nor his brother, nor any of tlie conspirators, could have been convicted ; if he had testi- fied, and disclosed the whole truth, it would have apj)eared that John Francis Knai)p was in Brown Street, not to render assist- ance to tlie assassin ; but that Crownin- shield, when he started to commit the murder, requested Frank to go home and go to bed ; that Frank did go home, retire to bed, soon after arose, secretly left his father's house, and hastened to Brown Street, to await the coming out of the as- sassin, in order to learn whether the deed was accomplished, and all the particulars. If Frank had not been convicted as i)rinei- pal, none of the accessories could by law have been convicted. Joseph would not have been even tried, for the government stipulated, that, if he would be a witness for the State, he should go clear. The whole history of this occurrence is of romantic interest. The murder itself, the corpus delicti, was strange ; planned with deliberation and sagacity, and executed with firmness and vigor. While conjecture was baffled in ascertaining either the motive or the perpetrator, it was certain that the assassin iiad acted upon design, and not at random. He must have had knowledge of the house, for the window had been unfas- tened from within. He had entered stealth- ily, threaded his way in silence through the apartments, corridors, and staircases, and coolly given the mortal blow. To make assurance doubly sure, he inflicted many fatal stabs, " the least a death to nature," and stayed not his hand till he had deliber- ately felt the pulse of his victim, to make- certain that life was extinct. It was strange that Crowninshield, the real assassin, should have been indicted and arrested on the testimony of Hatch, who- was himself in prison, in a distant part of the State, at the time of the nmrder, and. had no actual knowledge on the subject. It was very strange that J. J. Knapp, Jr. sliould have been the instrument of bring- ing to light the mystery of the whole mur- derous conspiracy ; for when he received from the hand of his father the threatening letter of Palmer, consciousness of guilt so confounded his faculties, that, instead oi destroying it, he stupidly handed it back and requested his father to deliver it to th( Committee of Vigilance. It was strange that the murder should have been committed on a mistake in law. Josepli, some time previous to the murder, had maiie inquiry how Mr. White's estate would be distributed in case he died with- out a will, and had been erroneously told that Mrs. Beckford, his mother-in-law, the sole issue and representative of a deceased sister of Mr. White, would inherit half of the estate, and that the four children anc' representatives of a deceased brother of Mr. White, of whom the Hon. Stephei 194 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. White was one, would inherit tlie other lialf. Jost'iili had privately read the will, and knew tliat Mr. Wiiite had bequeathed to Mrs. Beckford much less than half. It was strange that the murder should have been coinniitted on a mistake in fact also. Josejjh furtivt-ly abstracted a will, and expected Mr. White would die intes- tate ; but, after the decease, tht will, the last will, was foflnd by his heirs in its proper place ; and it <^'ould never have been known, or conjectured, without the aid of Joseph's confession, that he had made either of those blunders. Finally, it was a stranp:e fact that Knapp should, on the night following the murder, have watched with the mangled corpse, and at the funeral followed the hearse as one of the chief mourners, without betraying on either occasion the slightest emotion which could awaken a suspicion of his guilt. The following note was prefixed to this argument in the former edition : — Mr. White, a highly respectable and wealthy citizen of Salem, about eighty years of age, was found, on the morning of the 7th of April, 1S."]U, in his bed, nmr- dcred, under such circumstances as to cre- ate a strong sensation in that town and throughout the community. Richard Crowninshield, George Crownin- Bhield, Joseph J. Knapp, and John F. Knapp were, a few weeks after, arrested on a charge of having perpetrated the murder, and committed for trial. Joseph J. Knapp, Boon after, under the promise of favor from government, made a full confession of the crime and the circumstances attending it. In a few days after this disclosure was made, Richard Crowninshield, who was sup- posed to have been the principal assassin, committed suicide. A special session of the Supreme Court was ordered by the legislature, for the trial of the prisoners, at Salem, in July. At that time, John F. Knapp was indicted as principal in the murder, and George Crown- inshit'ld and Joseph J. Knapp as accessories. On account of the death of Cliief Justice Parker, which occurred on the 2thh of July, the court adjourned to Tuesday, the third day of August, when it i)roceeded in the trial of John F. Knapp. Joseph J. Knapp, being called upon, refused to testify, and the pledge of the government was withdrawn. At the request of the prosecuting otKcers of the government, Mr. Webster appeared as counsel, and assisted in the trial. .Mr. Franklin Dexter addressed the jury on behalf of the prisoner, and was suc- ceeded by Mr. Webster in the following speech.] I AM little accustomed, Gentlemen, to the part which I am now att4Mnpting to perform. Hardly more than once or twice has it happened to me to be cou- cerned on the side of the goveiumenl in any criminal prosecution whatever ; and never, until the present occasion, in any ca.se affecting life. But I very much regret that it should have been thought necessary to suggest to you that I am brought here to " hurry you against the law and beyond the evi- dence.'' I hope I have, too much regard for justice, and too much respect for my own character, to attempt either; and were I to make such attempt, I am sure that in this court nothing can be carred against the law, and that gentlemen, in- telligent and just as you are, are not, by any power, to be hurried beyond the evi- dence. Though I could well have wLshed to shun this occasion, I have not felt at liberty to withhold my professional as- sistance, when it is suppcsed that I may be in some degree useful in investigat- ing and discovering the trtith respecting this most extraordinary murder. It has seemed to be a duty incumbent on me, as on every other citizen, to do my best and my utmost to bring to light the per- petrators of this crime. Against the prisoner at the bar, as an mdividual, I cannot have the slightest prejudice. I would not do him the smallest injury or injustice. But I do not affect to be in- different to the discovery and the pun- ishment of this deep guilt. I cheerfully share in the opprobrium, how great so- ever it may be, which is cast on those who feel and manifest an anxious con- cern that all who had a part in planning, or a hand in executing, this deed of midnight assassuiation, may be brought to answer for their enormous crime at the bar of public justice. Gentlemen, it is a most extraordinary case. In some respects, it has hardly a precedent anywhere; certainly none in our New England history. This bloody drama exhibited no suddenly excited, ungovernable rage. The actors in it were not stirprised by any lion-like temptation springing upon their vir- tue, and overcoming it, before resistr ance could begin. Nor did they do the deed to glut savage vengeance, or THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 195 satiate long-settled and deadly hate. It was a cool, calculating, money-making murder. It was all " hire and salary, not revenge." It was the weighing of money against life; the counting out of so many pieces of silver against so many ounces of blood. An aged man, without an enemy in the world, in his own house, and in his own bed, is made the victim of a butch- erly murder, for mere pay. Truly, here is a new lesson for painters and po- ets. Whoever shall hereafter draw the portrait of murder, if he will show it as it has been exhibited, where such ex- ample was last to have been looked for, in the very bosom of our Xew England society, let him not give it the gi'im visage of Moloch, the brow knitted by revenge, the face black with settled hate, and the bloodshot eye emitting livid fires of malice. Let him draw, rather, a deco- rous, smooth-faced, bloodless demon; a picture in repose, rather than in action; not so much an example of human na- ture in its depravity, and in its parox- ysms of crime, as an infernal being, a fiend, in the ordinary display and de- velopment of his character. The deed was executed with a degree of self-possession and steadiness equal to the wickedness with which it was planned. The circumstances now clearly in evidence spread out the whole scene before us. Deep sleep had fallen on the destined victim, and on all beneath his roof. A healthful old man, to whom sleep was sweet, the first sound slum- bers of the night held him in their sof'^ but strong embrace. The assassin en- ters, through the window already pre- pared, into an unoccupied apartment. With noiseless foot he paces the lonely hall, half lighted by the moon ; he winds up the ascent of the stairs, and reaches *he door of the chamber. Of this, he moves the lock, by soft and continued pressure, till it tarns on its hinges with- out noise; and he enters, and beholds his victim before him. The room is uncommonly open to the admission of light. The face of the innocent sleeper is turned from the murderer, and the beams of the moon, resting on the gray locks of his aged temple, show him where to strike. The fatal blow is given! and the victim passes, without a struggle or a motion, from the repose of sleep to the repose of death ! " It is the assassin's purpose to make suro work ; and he plies the dagger, though it is obvious that life has been destroyed by the blow of the bludgeon. He even raises the aged arm, that he may not fail in his aim at the heart, and replaces it again over the wounds of the poniard ! To finish the picture, he explores the wrist for the pulse! He feels for it, and ascertains that it beats no longer ! It is accomplished. The deed is done. He retreats, retraces his steps to the win- dow, passes out through it as he came in, and escapes. He has done the mur- der. No eye has seen him, no ear has heard him. The secret is his own, and it is safe ! Ah! Gentlemen, that was a dreadful mistake. Such a secret can be safe no- where. The whole creation of God has neither nook nor corner where the guilty can bestow it, and say it is safe. Xot to speak of that eye which pierces through all disguises, and beholds every thing as in the splendor of noon, such secrets of guilt are never safe from de- tection, even by men. True it is, gen- erally speaking, that " murder will out." True it is, that Providence hath so or- dained, and doth so govern things, that those who break the great law of Heaven by shedding man's blood seldom suc- ceed in avoiding discoveiy. Especially, in a case exciting so much attention as this, discovery must come, and will come, sooner or later. A thousand eyes turn at once to explore eveiy man, every thing, every circumstance, connected with the time and place; a thousand ears catch every whisper ; a thousand ex- cited minds intensely dwell on the scene, shedding all their light, and ready to kindle the slightest circumstance into a blaze of discovery. Meantime the guilty soul cannot keep its own secret. It is false to itself; or rather it feels an irre- sistible impulse of conscience to be true to itself. It labors under its guilty pos- session, and knows not what to do with 196 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. it. The human heart vras not made for tlie residence of such an inhabitant. It finds itself preyed on by a torment, which it dares not acknowledge to God or man. A ^'ulture is devouring it, and it can ask no sjTupathy or assistance, either fi-ora heaven or earth. The secret which the murderer possesses soon comes to possess him; and, like the evil spirits of which we read, it overcomes him, and leads him whithersoever it will. He feels it beating at his heart, rising to his throat, and demanding disclosure. He thinks the whole world sees it in his face, reads it in his eyes, and almost hears its workings in the very silence of his thoughts. It has become his mas- ter. It betrays his discretion, it breaks down his courage, it conquers his pru- dence. 'NMien suspicions from without begin to embarrass him, and the net of circumstance to entangle him, the fatal secret struggles with still greater vio- lence to burst forth. It must be con- fessed, it will be confessed ; there is no refuge from confession but suicide, and suicide is confession. Much has been said, on this occasion, of the excitement which has existed, and still exists, and of the extraordinary measures taken to discover and punish the guilty. No doubt there has been, and is, much excitement, and strange indeed it would be had it been other- >vise. Should not all the peaceable and well-disposed naturally feel concerned, and naturally exert themselves to bring to punishment the authors of this secret assassination? Was it a thing to b.e filept upon or forgotten? Did you. Gen- tlemen, sleep quite as quietly in your beds after this murder as before? Was it not a case for rewards, for meetings, for conmtiittees, for the united efforts of all the good, to find out a band of murder- ous conspirators, of midnight ruffians, and to bring them to the bar of justice and law? If this be excitement, is it an unnatural or an improper excitement? It seems to me, Gentlemen, that there are appearances of another feeling, of a very different nature and character; not very extensive, I would hope, but still there is too much evidence of its exist- ence. Such is human nature, Uiat some persons lose their abhorrence of crime in their admiration of its magnificent exhibitions. Ordinary vice is repio- bated by them, but extraordinary guilt, exquisite wickedness, the high flights and poetry of crime, seize on the imagi- nation, and lead them to forget the depths of the guilt, in admiration of the excellence of tlie performance, or the unequalled atrocity of the purpose. There are those in our day who have made great use of this infirmity of our nature, and by means of it done infinite injuiy to the cause of good morals. They have affected not only the taste, but I fear also the principles, of the young, the heedless, and the imagina- tive, by the exhibition of interesting and beautiful monsters. They render depravity attractive, sometimes by the polish of its manners, and sometimes by its very extravagance ; and study to show off crime under all the advantages of cleverness and dexterity. Gentle- men, this is an extraordinary murder, but it Ls still a murder. AVe are not to lose ourselves in wonder at its origin, or in gazing on its cool and skUful execu- tion. V,'e are to detect and to punish it; and while we proceed with caution against the prisoner, and are to be sure that we do not visit on his head the offences of others, we are yet to con- sider that we are dealii>g with a case of most atrocious crime, which has not the slisrhtest circumstance about it to soften its enormity. It is murder; deliberate, concerted, malicious murder. Although the interest of this case may have diminished by the repeated inves- tigation of the facts; still, the addi- tional labor which it imposes ujwn all concerned is not to be regretted, if it should result in removing all doubts of the guilt of the prisoner. The learned counsel for the prisoner has said truly, tliat it is your individ- ual duty to judge the prisoner; tliat it is your individual duty to determine his guilt or innocence; and that you are to weigh the testimony with can- dor and fairness. But much at the same time has been said, which, al- THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 197 thougli it would seem to have no dis- tinct beaj-ing on the trial, cannot be jiassed over without some notice. A tone of complaint so peculiar has been indulged, as would almost lead us to doubt whether the prisoner at the bar, or the managers of this prosecu- tion, are now ou trial. Great pains have been taken to complain of the manner of the prosecution. We hear of getting up a case ; of setting in mo- tion trains of machinery; of foul testi- mony; of combinations to overwhelm the prisoner; of private prosecutors; that the prisoner is hunted, persecuted, driven to his trial; that everybody is against him; and various other com- plaints, as if those who would bring to punishment the authors of this murder were almost as bad as they who com- mitted it. In the course of my whole life, I have never heard before so much said about the particular counsel who happen to be employed; as if it were extraordinary that other counsel than the usual olli- cers of the government should assist in the management of a case on the part of the government. In one of the last criminal trials in this county, that of Jackman for the " Goodridge robbery" (so called), I remember that the learned head of the Suffolk Bar, Mr. Prescott, came down in aid of the officers of the government. This was regarded as neither strange nor improper. The counsel for the prisoner, in that case, contented themselves with answering his arguments, as far as they were able, instead of carping at his presence. Complaint is made that rewards were offered, in this case, and temptations held out to obtain testimony. Are not rewards always offered, when great and secret offences are committed? Rewards were offered in the case to which I have alluded ; and every other means taken to discover the offenders, that ingenuity or the most persevermg vigilance could suggest. The learned counsel have suf- fered their zeal to lead them into a strain of complaint at the manner in which the perpetrators of this crime were de- tected, almost indicating that they re- gard it as a positive injury to them to have found out their guilt. Since no man witnessed it, since they do not now confess it, attempts to discover it are half esteemed as officious intermeddling and impertinent inquiry. It is said, that here even a Committee of Vigilance was appointed. This is a subject of reiterated remark. This com- mittee are pointed at, as though they had been officiously intermeddling with the administration of justice. They are said to have been "laboring for months " against the prisoner. Gentle- men, what must we do in such a case? Are people to be dumb and still, through fear of overdoing? Is it come to this, that an effort cannot be made, a hand cannot be lifted, to discover the guilty, without its being said there is a combi- nation to overwhelm innocence? Has the communitj' lost all moral sense? Certainly, a community that would not be roused to action upon an occasion such as this was, a community which should not deny sleep to their eyes, and slumber to their eyelids, till they had exliausted all the means of discovery and detection, must indeed be lost to all moral sense, and would scarcely de serve protection from the laws. The learned counsel have endeavored to per- suade you, that there exists a prejudice against the persons accused of this mur der. They would have you imderstand that it is not confined to this vicinity alone; but that even the legislature have caught this spirit. That through the procurement of the gentleman here styled private prosecutor, who is a mem- ber of the Senate, a special session of this court was appointed for the trial of these offenders. That the ordinary movements of the wheels of justice were too slow for the pm-poses devised. But does not everybody see and know, that it was matter of absolute necessity to have a special session of the court? When or how could the prisoners have been tried without a special session? In the ordinary arrangement of the courts, but one week in a year is al- lotted for the whole court to sit in thia county. In the trial of all capital of lys THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. fences a majority of the court, at least, is required to be present. In the trial of the present case alone, three ■weeks have already been taken up. "Without such special session, then, three years would not have been sufficient for the purpose. It is answer sufficient to aU complaints on this subject to say, that the law was dra\\'n by the late Chief Justice himself ,1 to enable the court to accompli-sh its duties, and to afford the persons accused an opportunity for trial witliout delay. Again, it is said that it was not thought of making Francis Knapp, the prisoner at the bar, a principal till after the death of Richard Crowninshield, Jr. ; that the present indictment is an after- thought; that " testimony was got up " for the occasion. It is not so. There is no authority for this suggestion. Tlie case of the Knapps had not then been before the grand jury. The officers of the government did not know what the testimony would be against them. The}' could not, therefore, have determined what course they should pursue. They intended to arraign all as principals who should appear to have been principals, and all as accessories who should appear to have been accessories. AU this could be known only when the evidence should be jiroduced. But the learned counsel for the de- fendant take a somewhat loftier fliglit still. They are more concerned, they assure us, for the law itself, than even for their client. Your decision in this case, they say, will stand as a precedent. Gentlemen, we hope it will. We hope it will be a precedent both of candor and intelligence, of fairness and of firmness; a precedent of good sense and honest purpose pursuing their investigation dis- creetly, rejecting loose generalities, ex- ploring all the circumstances, weighing each, in search of truth, and embracing and declaring the truth when found. It is said, that "laws ai-e made, not for the jmnishmentof the guilty, but for the protection of the innocent." This is not quite accurate, perhaps, but if so, we hope they will be so administered as to 1 Chief Justice Parker. give that protection. But who are the innocent whom the law would protect? Gentlemen, Joseph "White was innocent. They are innocent who, having lived in the fear of God through the day, wish to sleep in his peace through the night, in their own beds. The law is established that those who live quietly may sleep quietly ; that they who do no harm may feel none. The gentleman can think of none that are innocent except the pris- oner at the bar, not yet convicted. Is a proved conspirator to murder inno- cent? Are the Crowninshields and the Knapps innocent? What is innocence? How deep stained with blood, how reck- less in crime, how deep in depravity may it be, and yet retain innocence? The law is made, if we would speak with en- tire accuracy, to protect the innocent by puni.shing the guilty. But there are those innocent out of a court, as well as in; innocent citizens not suspected of crime, as well as innocent prisoners at the bur. The criminal law is not founded in a principle of vengeance. It does not pun- ish that it may inflict suffering. The humanity of the law feels and regrets every pain it causes, evei-y hour of re- straint it imposes, and more deeply still every life it forfeits. But it uses evil as the means of preventing gi'eater evil. It seeks to deter from crime by the ex- ample of punishment. This is its true, and only true main object. It restrains the liberty of the few offenders, that the many who do not offend may enjoy their liberty. It takes the life of the murderer, that other murders may not be committed. The law might open the jails, and at once set free all persons ac- cused of offences, and it ought to do so if it could be made certain tliat no other offences would hereafter be committed, because it punishes, not to satisfy any desire to inflict pain, but simply to pre- vent tlie repetition of crimes. When the guilty, therefore, are not punished, the law has so far failed of its purpose; the safety of the innocent is so far en- dangered. Every unpunished murder takes away something from the security of every man's life. Whenever a jury, through whimsical and ill-founded scru THE MURDER Oi- CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 199 pies, suffer the guilty to escape, they make themselves answerable for the augimnted dant^er of the innocent. We wish nothing to be strained against this defendant. Why, then, all this alarm? Why all this complaint against the manner in which the crime is dis- covered? The prisoner's counsel catch at supposed flaws of evidence, or bad character of witnesses, without meeting the case. Do they mean to deny the confipiracy? Do they mean to deny that the *wo Crowninshields and the two Knapps were conspirators ? Why do they rail against Palmer, wliile they do not disprove, and hardly dispute, the truth of any one fact sworn to by him? In- stead of this, it is made matter of senti- mentality that Palmer has been prevailed upon to betray his bosom companions and to violate the sanctity of friendship. Again I ask, "\^'hy do they not meet the case? If the fact is out, why not meet it? Do they mean to deny that Captain White is dead? One would have almost supposed even that, from some remarks that have been made. Do they mean to deny the conspiracy ? Or, admitting a conspiracy, do they mean to deny only that Frank Knapp, the prisoner at the bar, was abetting in the murder, being present, and so deny that he was a prin- cipal? If a conspiracy is proved, it bears closely upon every subsequent subject of inquiry. Why do they not come to the fact? Here the defence is wliolly in- distinct. The counsel neither take the gi'ound, nor abandon it. They neither fly, nor light. They hover. But they must come to a closer mode of con- test. They must meet the facts, and either deny or admit them. Had the piisoner at the bar, then, a knowledge of this conspiracy or not? This is the question. Instead of laying out their etreuglh in complaining of the manner in whicL. the deed is discovered, of the extraordinary pains taken to bring the Drisoner's guilt to light, would it not be better to show there was no guilt? AVould it not be better to show his inno- cence? They say, and they complain, that the community feel a great desire that he should be punished for his crimes. Would it not be better to convince you that he has committed no crime? Gentlemen, let us now come to the case. Your first inquirj', on the evi- dence, will be. Was Captain White murdered in pursuance of a conspir- acy, and was the defendant one of this conspiracy? If so, the second inquiiy is, Was he so connected with the mur- der itself as that he is liable to be con- victed as a principal ? The defendant is indicted as a principal. If not guilty a» such , you cannot convict him. The in- dictment contains three distinct classes of counts. In the first, he is charged as having done the deed with his own hand; in the second, as an aider and abettor to Richard Crowuinshield, Jr., who did the deed; in the third, as an aider and abettor to some person un- known. If you believe him guilty on either of these counts, or in either of these ways, you must convict him. It may be proper to say, as a prelimi- nary remark, that there are tv\'o extraor- dinary circumstances attending this trial. One is, that Richard Crow'ninshield, Jr., the supposed immediate perpetrator of the murder, since his arrest, has com- mitted suicide. He has gone to answer before a tribunal of perfect infallibility. The other is, that Joseph Knapp, the supposed originator and planner of the mm'der, ha\*ing once made a full dis- closure of the facts, under a promise of indemnity, is, nevertheless, not now a witness. Notwithstanding his disclos- ure and his promise of indemnity, he now refuses to testify. He chooses to return to his original state, and now stands answerable himself, when the time shall come for his trial. These cir- cumstances it is fit j'ou should remem- ber, in your investigation of the case. Your decision may affect more than the life of this defendant. If he be not convicted as principal, no one cm bo Nor can any one be convicted of a par- ticipation in the crime as accessory. The Knapps and George Crowuinshield will be again on the community. This shows the importance of the duty you have to perform, and serves to remind you of the care and wisdom necessary to 200 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. be exercised in its pei-formance. But certainly these considerations do not render the prisoner's guilt any clearer, nor enhance the weight of the evidence against him. No one desires you to re- gard consequences in that light. No one wishes any thing to be strained, or too far pressed against the prisoner. Still, it is fit you shoild see the full importance of the duty wLich devolves upon you. And n: w, Gentlemen, in examining this evidence, let us begin at the begin- ning, and see first what we know in- dependent of the disputed testimony. This is a case of circimistantial evidence. And these circumstances, we think, are full and satisfactory'. The case mainly depends upon them, and it is common that offences of this kind must be proved in this way. Midnight assassins take no witnesses. The evidence of the facts relied on has been somewhat sneeringly denominated, by the learned counsel, "circumstantial stuff," but it is not such stuff as dreams are made of. Why does he not rend this stuff? ^^^ly does he not scatter it to the winds? He dis- misses it a little too summarily. It shall be my business to examine this stuff, and try its cohesion. The letter from Palmer at Belfast, is that no more than flimsy stuff? The fabricated letters from Knapp to the committee and to Mr. White, are they nothing but stuff? The cii'cumstance, that the house- keeper was away at the time the murder was committed, as it was agreed she would be, is that, too, a useless piece of the same stuff? The facts, that the key of the cham- ber door was taken out and secreted; that the window was unbarred and un- bolted; are these to be so slightly and so easily disposed of? It is necessary. Gentlemen, to settle now, at the commencement, the gi'eat question of a conspiracy. If there was none, or the defendant was not a party, then there is no evidence here to convict him. If there was a conspiracy, and he is proved to have been a party, then these two facts have a strong bearing on others, and all the great points of in- quiry. The defendant's counsel take no distinct ground, as I have already said, on this point, either to admit or to deny. They choose to confine themselves to a hypothetical mode of speech. They say, supposing there was a conspiracy, non sequitur that the prisoner is guilty as principal. Be it so. But stLU, if there was a conspiracy, and if he was a con- spirator, and helped to plan the murder, this may shed much light on the evidence which goes to charge hun with the exe- cution of that plan. We mean to make out the conspiracy ; and that the defendant was a party to it; and then to draw all just inferences from these facts. Let me ask your attention, then, in the first place, to those appearances, on the morning after the murder, which have a tendency to show that it was done in pur- suance of a preconcerted plan of opera- tion. What are they? A man was found murdered in his bed. No stranger had done the deed, no one unacquainted with the house had done it. It was apparent that somebody within had opened, and that somebody without had entered. There had obviously and certainly been concert and co-operation. The inmates of the house were not alarmed when the murder was perpetrated. The assassin had entered without any riot or any \\o- lence. lie had found the way prepared before him. The house had been pre- viously opened. The window was un- barred from within, and its fa.stening unscrewed. There was a lock on the door of the chamber in which Mr. AMiite slept, but the key was gone. It had been taken away and secreted. The footsteps of the murderer were visible, out-doors, tending toward the window. The plank by which he entered the window still re- mained. The road he pursued had been thus prepared for him. The victini was slain, and the murderer had escaped. Every thing indicated that somebody within had co-operated with somebody without. Every thing proclaimed that some of the inmates, or somebody hav- ing access to the house, had had a hand in the murder. On the face of the cir- cumstances, it was apparent, therefore, THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 'JOl that this was a premeditated, concerted murder ; that there had been a conspiracy to connnit it. Who, then, were the con- spirators? If not now found out, we are still grojnng in the dark, and the whole tragedy is still a mystery. If the Knapps and the Crowninshields were noj- the conspirators in this murder, then there is a whole set of conspirators not yet discovered. Because, indepen- dent of the testimony of Palmer and Leigh ton, independent of all disputed evidence, we know, from uncontroverted facts, that this murder was, and must have been, the result of concert and co- operation between two or more. We know it was not done without plan and deliberation; we see, that whoever en- tered the house, to strike the blow, was favored and aided by some one who had been previously in the house, without suspicion, and who had prepared the way. This is concert, this is co-operation, this is conspiracy. If the Knapps and the Crowninshields, then, were not the conspirators, who were? Joseph Knapp had a motive to desire the death of Mr. AVhite, and that motive has been shown. He was connected by marriage with the family of Mr. "\Miite. His wife was the daughter of Mrs. Beckford, who was the only child of a sister of the deceased. The deceased was more than eighty years old, and had no children. His only heirs were nephews and nieces. He was supposed to be possessed of a very large fortune, which would have descended, by law, to his several neph- ews and nieces in equal shares; or, if there was a will, then according to the will. But as he had but two branches of heirs, the children of his brother, Henry "White, and of Mrs. Beckford, each of these branches, according to the common idea, would have shared one half of his property. This popular idea is not legally cor- rect. But it is common, and very prob- ably was entertained by the parties. According to this idea, Mrs. Beckford, on Mr. AVliite's death without a will, would have been entitled to one half of his ample fortune; and Joseph Knapp Lad married one of her three children. There was a will, and this will ga-o the bulk of the property to others; a:id we learn from I'alnuT that one part of the design was to destroy the will before the murder was committed. There had been a previous will, and that previous will was known or believed to have been more favorable than the other to the Beckford family. So that, by dest-oy« ing the last will, and destroying the life of the testator at the same time, either the first and more favorable will would be set up, or the deceased would have no will, which would be, as was sup- posed, still more favorable. But the conspirators not having succeeded in obtaining and destroying the last will, though they accomplished the murder, that will being found in existence and safe, and that will bequeathing the mass of the property to others, it seemed at the time impossible for .Joseph Knapp, as for any one else, indeed, but the jirin- cipal devisee, to have any motive which should lead to the murder. The key which unlocks the whole mystery is the knowledge of the intention of the con- si")irators to steal the will. This is de- rived from Palmer, and it explains all. It solves the whole marvel. It shows the motive which actuated those, against whom there is much evidence, but who, without the knowledge of this intention, were not seen to have had a motive. This intention is proved, as I have said, by Palmer ; and it is so congriious with all the rest of the case, it agrees so well with all facts and circumstances, that no man could well withhold his belief, though the facts were stated by a still less credible witness. If one desirous of opening a lock turns over and tries a bunch of keys till he finds one that will open it, he naturally supposes he has found the key of that lock. So, in explaining circumstances of evidence which are apparently irreconcilable or unaccountable, if a fact be suggested which at once accounts for all, and rec- onciles all, by whomsoever it may be stated, it is still difficult not to believe that such fact is the true fact belonging to the case. In this respect. Palmer's testimony is singularly confirmed. If it 202 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. were false, his ingenuity could not fur- nish us such clear exjiosition of strange appearing circumstances. Some truth not before known can alone do that. "\Mien we look back, then, to the state of things immediately on the dis- covery of tiie murder, we see that sus- picion would naturally turn at once, not to the heirs at law, but to these princi- pal!} benefited by the will. They, and they alone, would be supposed or seem to have a direct object for wishing Mr. White's life to be terminated. And, strange as it may seem, we find counsel now insisting, that, if no apologj', it is yet mitigation of the atrocity of the Knapps' conduct in atteinpting to charge this fold murder on Mr. White, the nephew and principal devisee, that pub- lic suspicion was already so directed! As if assassination of character were excusable in proportion as circumstances may rentier it easy. Their endeavors, when they knew they were susjiected themselves, to fix the charge on others, by foul means and by falsehood, are fair and stiong proof of their own guilt. But more of that hereafter. Tlie counsel say that they might safely admit lliat Richard Crowninsliield, Jr. was tlie perpetrator of this murder. But how could they safely admit that? Jf tliat were admitted, every thing else would follow. For wiiy slionld Richard Crowninsliield, Jr. kill Mr. White? He was not his heir, nor his devisee ; nor was he his enemy. What could be his motive? If Richard Crowninsliield, Jr. killed Mr. White, he did it at some one's procurement who liimself had a motive. And who, having any motive, is shown to have had any intercourse with Richard Crowninsliield, Jr., but Jcsepli Kiiapp, and tliis principally througli the agency of the prisoner at the bar? It is the infirmity, the dis- tressing difficulty of the prisoner's case, that his counsel cannot and dare not admit what they yet cannot disprove, and what all must believe. lie who be- lieves, on this evidence, that Rich- ard Crowninsliield, Jr. was the im- iw liate murderer, cannot doubt that both the Knapps were conspirators ! in that murder. The counsel, there- fore, are wrong, I think, in saying they might safely admit this. The ad- mission of so imjx)rtant and so connect- ed a fact would render it impossible to contend further against the proof of tha entire conspiracy, as we state it. What, then, was this conspiracy? J. J. Knajip, Jr., desirous of destroying the will, and of taking the life of the deceased, hired a ruffian, who, with the aid of other ruffians, was to enter the hou.se, and murder hira in his bed. As far back as January this conspiracy began. Endicott testifies to a conver- sation with J. J. Knapp at that time, in which Knapp told him that Captain White had made a will, and given the principal ]>art of his ]>roperty to Stephen AVhite. AVhen asked how he knew, he said, "Black and white don't lie." A\'hen asked if the will was not locked up, he said, " There is such a thing as two keys to the same lock." And speaking of the then late illness of Cap- tain White, he said, that Stephen AMiite would not have been sent for if Ae had been there. Hence it appears, that as early as Jan- uary Knapp had a knowledge of the will, and that he had access to it by means of false keys. This knowledge of the will, and an intent to destroy it, appear also from Palmer's testimony, a fact disclosed to him by the other con- spirators. He says that he was informed of this by the Crowninshields on the 2d of April. But then it is said, that Palmer is not to be credited; that by hij own confession he is a felon ; that he has been in tlie State prison in Maine; and, above all, that he was intimately as.soci- ated with these conspirators themselves. Let us admit these facts. Let us admit him to be as bad as they would repre.sent him to be; still, in law, he is a compe- tent witness. How else are the secret designs of tlie wicked to be proved, but by their wicked companions, to wiiom they have disclosed them ? The govern- ment does not select its witnesses. The conspirators themselves have chosen Palmer. He was the confidant of the prisoners The fact, howevei , does not THE MURDER OF aVPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 203 depend on his testimony alone. It is corroborated by other proof; and, taken in connection with the other circumstan- ces, it has strong probability. In regard to the testimony of Palmer, generally, it may be said that it is less contradicted, in "all parts of it, either by himself or others, than that of any other material •witness, and that every tiling he has told is corroborated by other evidence, so far as it is susceptible of confirmation. An attempt has been made to impair his testimony, as to liis being at the Half- way House on the night of the murder; you have seen with what success. ^Ir. Babb is called to contradict him. You have seen how little he knows, and even that not certainly; for he himself is proved to have been in an error by sup- posing Palmer to have been at the Half- way House on the evening of the 9th of April. At that time he is proved to have been at Dustin's, in Danvers. If, then, Palmer, bad as he is, has disclosed the secrets of the conspiracy, and has told the truth, there is no reason why it should not be believed. Truth is truth, come whence it may. The facts show that this murder had been long in agitation ; that it was not a new proposition on the 2d of April; that it had been contemplated for five or six weeks. Richard Crowninshield was at Wenham in the latter part of March, as testified by Starrett. Frank Knapp was at Danvers in the latter part of February, as testified by Allen. Rich- ard Crowninshield inquired whether Captain Knapp was about home, when at Wenham. The probability is, that they would open the case to Palmer as a new project. There are other circumstances that show it to have been some weeks in agitation. Palm- er's testimony as to the transaction on the 2d of April is corroborated by Allen, and by Osborn's books. He says that Frank Knapp came there in the afternoon, and again in the even- ing. So the book shows. He says that Captain White had gone out to his farm on that day. So others prove. How could this fact, or these facts, have beeu known to Palmer, unless Frank Knapp had brought the knowledge? And was it not the special object of this visit to give information of this fact» that they might meet him and execute their purpose on his return from his farm? The letter of Palmer, written at Belfast, bears intrinsic marks of genu- ineness. It was mailed at Belfast, May i:3th. It states facts that he could not have known, unless his testimony b« true. This letter was not an after- thought; it is a genuine narrative. la fact, it says, " I know the business youi brother Frank was transacting on the 2d of April." How could he have pos- sibly known this, unless he had been there ? The " one thousand dollars that was to be paid," — where could he have obtained this knowledge? The testi- mony of Endicott, of Palmer, and these facts, are to be taken together; and they most clearly show that the death of Captain White was caused by some- body interested in putting an end to his life. As to the testimony of Leigh ton, as far as manner of testifying goes, he is a bad witness ; but it does not follow from this that he is not to be believed. There are some strange things about him. It is strange, that he should make up a story against Captain Knapp, the person with whom he lived; that he never volunta- rily told any thing : all that he has said was screwed out of him. But the story could not have been invented by him; his character for truth is unimpeached; and he intimated to another witness, soon after the mm-der happened, that he knew something he should not tell. There is not the least contradiction in his testimony, though he gives a poor account of withholding it. He says that he was extremely bothered by those who questioned him. In the main story that he relates, he is entu-ely consistent with himself. Some things are for bun, and some against him. Examine the in- trujsic probability of what he says. See if some allowance is not to be made for him, on account of his ignorance of things of this kind. It is said to be ex- traordinary, that he .should have heani just so much of the conversation, and 204 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. no more ; that he should have heard just what was necessary to be proved, and nothing else. Admit that this is ex- traordinary'; still, tliis does not prove it untrue. It is extraordinary that you twelve gentlemen should be called upon, out of all the men in the county, to decide this case; no one could have foretold this three weeks since. It is extraordinary that the first clew to this consi)iracy should have been derived from information given by the father of the prisoner at the bar. And in every ca.se that comes to trial there are many things extraordinary. The murder itself is a most extraordinary one ; but still we do not doubt its reality. It is argued, that this conversation between Joseph and Frank could not have been as Leighton has testified, be- cause they had been together for several hours before; this subject must have been uppermost in their minds, whereas this appears to have been the commence- ment of their conversation upon it. Now this depends altogether upon the tone and manner of the expression ; upon the particular word in the sentence which was emi>hatically spoken. If he had said, " When did you see Dick, Frank? " this would not seem to be the beginning of the conversation. AVith what em- phasis it was uttered, it is not possible to learn; and therefore nothing can be made of this argument. If this boy's testimony stood r.lone, it should be re- ceived with caution. And the same may be said of the testimony of Palmer. 15 ut they do not stand alone. They fur- nish a clew to numerous other circum- stances, which, when known, mutually confirm -^hat would have been received witli caution without such corrobora- tion . How could Leigliton have made up this conversation? " When did you see Dijic?" "I saw him this morning." " Wlien Is he going to kill the old man?" " I don't know." " Tell him, if he don't do it soon, I won't pay him." Here is a vast amount in few words. Had he wit enough to invent tliis? There is nothing so powerful as truth; and often nothing so strange. It is not eve» suggested that the story was made for him. There is noth- ing so extraordina^^• in the whole mat- ter, as it would have been for thia ignorant country boy to invent this story. The acts of the parties themselves fur- nish strong presumption of their guilt. What was done on the receipt of the letter from Maine? This letter was signed by Charles Grant, Jr., a person not known to either of the Knapps, nor was it known to them that any other person beside tlie Crowninshields knew of the conspiracy. This letter, by the accidental omission of the word Jr. , fell into the hands of the father, when in- tended for the son. The father carried it to Wenham, where both the sons were. They both read it. Fix your eye stead- ily on this part of the circumstantial istuff which is in the case, and see what can be made of it. This was shown to the two brothers on Saturday, the 15th of May. Neither of them knew Pahuer. And if they had known him, they could not have known him to have been the writer of this letter. It was mysterious to them how any one at Belfast could have had knowledge of this affair. Their conscious guilt prevented due circum- spection. They did not see the bearing of its publication. They advised their father to carry it to the Committee of Vigilance, and it was so carried. On the Sunday following, Joseph began to think there might be something in it. Perhaps, in tlie mean time, he had seen one of the Crowninshields. He was apprehensive that they might be sus- pected; he was anxious to turn atten- tion from their family. What course did he adopt to effect this? He ad- dres.sed one letter, with a false name, to Mr. White, and another to the Com- mittee; and to complete the climax of his folly, he signed the letter addressed to the Committee, "Grant," the same name as that which was signed to the letter received from Belfast. It was in the knowledge of the Committee, that no person but the Knapps had seen this letter from BeKast; and that no other person knew its signature. It therefore must have been irresistibly plain to them THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 20.^ Uiat one of the Knapps was the writer of the letter received by the Commit- tee, charging tlie murder on Mr. White. Add to this the fact of its having been dated at Lyim, and mailed at Salem four days after it was dated, and who could doubt respecting it? Have you ever read or knowii of folly equal to this? Can you conceive of crime more odious and abominable? Merely to ex- plain tlie apparent mysteries of the letter from Palmer, they excite the basest sus- picions against a man, whom, if they were innocent, they had no reason to believe guilty; and whom, if they were guilty, they most certainly knew to be innocent. Could they have adopted a more direct method of exposing their own infamy? The letter to the Com- mittee has intrinsic marks of a knowl- edge of this transaction. It tells the time and the manner in which the murder was committed. Every line speaks the writer's condemnation. In attempting to divert attention from his family, and to charge the guilt upon another, he in- delibly fixes it upon himself. Joseph Knapp requested Allen to put these letters into the post-office, because, said he, "I wish to nip this silly affair in the bud." If this were not the order of an overruling Providence, I should say that it was the silliest piece of folly that was ever practised. Mark the des- tiny of crime. It is ever obliged to re- sort to such subterfuges ; it trembles in the broad light ; it betrays itself in seek- ing concealment. lie alone walks safely who walks uprightly. "\Mio for a mo- ment can read these letters and doubt of Joseph Knapp's guilt? The constitu- tion of nature is made to inform against him. There is no corner dark enoiigh to conceal him. There is no turnpike- road broad enough or smooth enough for a man so guilty to walk in without stumbling. Every step proclaims his secret to every passenger. His own acts come out to fix his guilt. In attempting to charge another with his own crime, he writes his own confession. To do away the effe/jt of Palmer's letter, signed Grant, he writes a letter himself and affixes to it the name of Grant. He writes in a disguised hand; but how could it happen that the same Grant should be in Salem that was at Belfa.st' This has brought the whole thing out Evidently he did it, because he haa adopted the same stjie. Evidently he did it, because he speaks of the price of blood, and of other circumstances con- nected with the murder, that no one but a conspirator could have known. Palmer says he made a visit to the Crowninshields, on the 9th of April. George then asked him whether he had heard of the murder. Richard inquired whether he had heard the music at Salem. They said that they were suspected, that a committee had been appointed to search houses ; and that they had melted up the dagger, the day after the murder, be- cause it would be a suspicious circum- stance to have it found in their possession. Now this committee was not appointed, in fact, until Friday evening. But this proves nothing against Palmer; it does not prove that George did not tell him so; it only proves that he gave a false reason for a fact. They had heard that they were suspected; how could they have heard this, unless it were from the whisperings of their own consciences? Surely this rumor was not then pub- lic. About the 27th of April, another at- tempt was made by the Knapps to give a direction to public suspicion. They re- ported themselves to have been robbed, in passing from Salem to Wenham, near Wenham Pond. They came to Salem and stated the particulars of the adven- ture. They described persons, their dress, size, and appearance, who had been suspected of the murder. They would have it understood that the com- munity was infested by a band of luf- fians, and that they themselves were the particular objects of their vengeance. Xow this turns out to be all fictitious, all false. Can you conceive of any thing more enormous, any wickedness greater, than the circulation of such reports? than the allegation of crimes, if com- mitted, capital? If no such crime had been committed, then it reacts with double force upon themselves, and goes 206 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. very far to show their guilt. How did they conduct themselves on this occa- sion? Did they make hue and cry? Did they give information that they had been assaulted that night at "Wen- ham? No such thing. They rested quietly that night; they waited to be called on for the particulars of their ad- venture; they made no attempt to arrest the offenders ; this was not their object. They were content to fill the thousand mouths of rumor, to spread abroad false reports, to divert the attention of the public from themselves; for they thought every man suspected them, be- cause they knew they ought to be sus- pected. Tlie manner in which the compensa- tion for this murder was paid is a cir- cumstance worthy of consideration. By examining the facts and dates, it will satisfactorily appear that Joseph Knapp paid a sum of money to Richard Crown- inshield, in five-franc pieces, on the 24:th of April. On the 21st of April, Joseph Knapp received five hundred five-franc pieces, as the proceeds of an adventure at sea. The remainder of this species of currency that came home in the ves- sel was deposited in a bank at Salem. On Saturday, the 24th of April. Frank and Richard rode to AVenham. They were tliere with Joseph an hour or more, and appeared to be negotiating private business. Richard continued in the chaise ; Joseph came to the chaise and conversed with him. These facts are proved by Hart and Leigh- ton, and by Osborn's books. On Sat- urday evening, about this time, Richard Crowninshield is proved, by Lummus, to have been at "Wenham, with another person whose appearance corresponds with Frank's. Can any one doubt this being the same evening? "\Miat had Ricliard Crowninshield to do at Wen- ham, with Joseph, unless it were this business? lie was there before the mur- dei ; he was there after the murder; he Wivs tliere clandestinely, unwilling to be seen. If it were not upon this business, let it be told what it was for. Joseph Knapp could explain it; Frank Knapp miglit explain it. But they do not ex- plain it; and the inference is against them. Immediately after this, Richurd passe.s five-franc pieces; on the same evening, one to Lummus, five to Palmer; and near this time George passes three or four in Salem. Here are nine of these pieces passed by them in four days ; this is extraordinary. It is an unusual cur- rency ; in ordinary business, few men would pass nine such pieces in the course of a year. If they were not re- ceived in this way, why not explain Low they came by them? Money was not so flush in their pockets that they could not tell whence it came, if it honestly came there. It is extremely important to them to explain whence this money came, and they would do it if they could. K, then, the price of blood was paid at this time, in the presence and with the knowledge of this defendant, does not this prove him to have been connected with this conspiracy? Obsen-e, also, the effect on the mind of Richard of Palmer's being arrested and committed to prison; the various efforts he makes to discover the fact; the lowering, through the crevices of the rock, the pencil and paper for hun to write upon ; the sending two lines of poetry, with the request that he M-ould return the corresponding lines ; the shrill and peculiar whistle ; the inimitable exclamations of " Palmer! Palmer! Palmer! " All these things prove how great was his alarm; they corroborate Palmer's story, and tend to establish the conspiracy. Joseph Knapp had a part to act in this matter. He must have opened the window, and secreted the key ; he had free access to everj' part of the house; he was accustomed to visit there; he went in and out at his pleasure; he could do this without being suspected. He is proved to have been there the Saturday preceding. If all these things, taken in connec- tion, do not prove that Captain White was murdered in pursuance of a con- spiracy, then the case is at an end. Savary's testimony is wholly unex- pected. He was called for a different THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 207 purj>ose. AMien asked who the person was that he saw come out of Captain ^\^^ite's yard between three and four o'clock in the morning, he answered, Frank Knapp. It is not clear that this is not true. There may be many cir- cumstances of importance connected witli this, though we believe the mur- der to have been committed between ten and eleven o'clock. The letter to Dr. Barstow states it to have been done about eleven o'clock; it states it to have been done with a blow on the head, from a weapon loaded with lead. Here is too great a correspondence with the reality not to have some meaning in it. Dr. Teirson was always of the opinion, that the two classes of wounds were made with different instruments, and by dif- ferent hands. It is possible that one class was inflicted at one time, and the other at another. It is possible that on the last visit the pulse might not have entirely ceased to beat, and then the finishing stroke was given. It is said, that, when the body was discovered, some of the wounds wept, while the others did not. They may have been inflicted from mere wantonness. It was knowTi that Captain "White was accus- tomed to keep specie by him in his cham- ber ; this perhaps may explain the last visit. It is proved, that this defendant was in the habit of retiring to bed, and leaving it afterwards, without the knowl- edge of his family; perhaps he did so on this occasion. We see no reason to doubt the fact; and it does not .shake our belief that the murder was commit- ted early in the night. "What are the probabilities as to the time of the murder? >\Ir. "White was an aged man ; he usually retired to bed at about half-past nine. lie slept Boundest in the early part of the night; usually awoke in the middle and latter part; and his habits were perfectly well known. "W"hen would persons, with a knowledge of these facts, be most likely to approach him? Most certainly, in the first hour of his sleep. This would be the safest time. If seen then going to or from the house, the appearance would be least suspicious. The earlier horn- would then have been most probably selected. Gentlemen, I shall dwell no longer on the evidence which tends to prove that there was a conspiracy, and that the prisoner was a conspirator. All the circumstances concur to make out this point. Not only Palmer swears to it, in effect, and Leighton, but Allen mainiy suppoi-ts Palmer, and Osborn's l>ookB lend confirmation, so far as pu.^sible, from such a source. Palmer is contra^ dieted in nothing, either by any other witness, or any proved circumstance or occurrence. "N^liatever could be ex- pected to support him does support him. All the evidence clearly mani- fests, I think, that there was a conspir- acy; that it originated with Joseph Knapp; that defendant became a party to it, and was one of its conductors, from first to last. One of the most powerful circumstances is Palmer's let- ter from Belfast. The amount of this is a direct charge on the Knapps of the authorship of this murder. How did they treat this charge; like honest men, or like guilty men? "We have seen how it was treated. Joseph Knapp fabricat- ed letters, chai-ging another person, and caused them to be put into the post- office. I shall now proceed on the supposi- tion, that it is proved that there was a conspiracy to murder Mr. "White, and that the prisoner was party to it. The second and the material inquiry is. Was the prisoner present at the mur- der, aiding and abetting therein? This leads to the legal question in the case. "VMiat does the law moan, when it says, that, in order to charge him as a principal, "he must be present aiding and abetting in the murder "? In the language of the late Chief Jus- tice, " It is not required that the abet- tor shall be actually upon the spot when the murder is committed, or even in sight of the more immediate perpetra- tor of the victim, to make him a princi pal. If he be at a distance, co-operat- ing in the act, by watching to prevent relief, or to give an alarm, or to assist his confederate in escape, having knowl- 208 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. edge of the purpose and object of the assassin, this in the eye of the law is being present, aiding and abetting, so as to make him a principal in the mur- der." " If he be at a distance co-operating." This is not a distance to be mea.sured by feet or rods; if the intent to lend aid combine with a knowledge that the mur- der is to be committed, and the person 60 intending be so situate that he can by any possibility lend this aid in any man- ner, then he is present in legal contem- plation. He need not lend any actual aid ; to be ready to assist is assisting. There are two sorts of murder; the distinction between them it is of essen- tial importance to bear in mind: 1. Mur-. der in an affray, or upon sudden and unexpected provocation. 2. Murder se- cretly, with a deliberate, predetermined intention to commit the crime. Under the first class, the question usually is, whether the offence be murder or man- slaughter, in the person who commits the deed. Under the second class, it is often a question whether others than he who actually did the deed were present, aiding and assisting therein. Offences of this kind ordinarily happen when there is nobody present except those who go on the same design. If a riot should happen in the court-house, and one should kill another, this may be mur- der, or it may not, according to the in- tention with which it was done; which is always matter of fact, to be collected from the circumstances at the time. But in secret murders, premeditated and determined on, there can be no doubt of the murderous intention ; there can be no doubt, if a person be present, know- ing a murder is to be done, of his con- curring in the act. Ilis being there is a proof of his intent to aid and abet; else, why is he there? It has been contended, that proof must be given that the person accused did actually afford aid, did lend a hand in the murder itself; and without this proof, although he may be near by, he niay be presumed to be there for an in- nocent purj^ose ; he may have crept si- lently there to hear the news, or from mere curiosity to see what was going on.^ Preposterous, absurd I Such an idea shocks all common sense. A man is found to be a conspirator to commit a murder; he has planned it; he has as- sisted in arranging the time, the place and the means; and he is foimd in the place, and at the time, and yet it is sug- gested that he might have been there, not for co-operation and concui-rence, but from curiositj'I Such an argument deserves no answer. It would be dilB- cidt to give it one, in decorous terms. Is it not to be taken for granted, that a man .seeks to accomplish his own pur- poses'? 'Wlien he has planned a mur- der, and is present at its execution, is he there to forward or to thwart his own design? is he there to assist, or there to prevent:^ But " Curiosity " ! lie may be there from mere " curiosity " ! Cuii- osity to witness the success of the execu- tion of his own plan of murder I The very walls of a court-house ought not to stand, the ploughshare should run through the ground it stands on, where such an argument could find toleration.^ It is not uecessaiy that the abettor should actually lend a hand, that he should take a part in the act itself ; if he be present ready to assist, that is assist- ing. Some of the doctrines advanced would acquit the defendant, though he had grone to the bedchamber of the de- ceased, though he had been standing by when the assassin gave the blow. This is the argument we have heard to-day. The court here said, they did not so under- stand the argument of the counsel for de- fendant. Mr. Dexter said. " Ti.e intent and power alone must co-operate." Xo doubt the law is. that being ready to assist is assisting, if the party has the power to assist, in case of need. It is so stated by Foster, who is a high author- ity. " If A happeneth to be present at a nmrder, for instance, and taketh no part in it, nor eudeavoreth to prevent it, nor apprehendeth the murderer, nor 1 This seems to have been actually the cas* as regards J. F. Knapp. ^ And yet this arpunient, so ahsurd in Mr. Webster's upiuiuD, was based on the exact fact. THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 209 jevyeth hue and cry after him, this strange behavior of his, though highly criminal, will not of itself render him either principal or accessory." " But if a fact amounting to mm-der should be committed in prosecution of some un- lawful purpose, though it were but a bare trespass, to which A in the case last stated had consented, and he had gone in order to give assistance, if need were, for carrying it into execution, this ■would have amounted to murder in him, and in every person present and joining with liun." "If the fact was com- mitted in prosecution of the original purpose which was unlawful, the whole party will be involved in the guilt of him who gave the blow. For in combi- nations of this kind, the mortal stroke, though given by one of the party, is considered in the eye of the law, and of sound reason too, as given by every in- dividual present and abetting. The per- son actually giving the stroke is no more than the hand or instrument by which the others strike." The author, in speak- ing of being present, means actual pres- ence; not actual in opposition to con- structive, for the law knows no such distinction. There is but one presence, and this is the situation from which aid, or supposed aid, may be rendered. The law does not say where the person is to go, or how near he is to go, but that he must be where he may give assistance, or where the perpetrator may believe that he may be assisted by him. Sup- pose that he is acquainted with the design of the murderer, and has a knowledge of the time when it is to be carried into effect, and goes out with a view to render assistance, if need be; why, then, even though the murderer does not know of this, the person so going out will be an abettor in the murder. It is contended that the prisoner at the bar could not be a principal, he being in Brown Street, because he could not there render assistance; and you are called upon to determhie this case, ac- cording as you may be of opinion whether Bro^\^^ Street was, or was not, a suit- able, convenient, well-chosen place to aid in this murder. This is not the true question. The uiquiry is not whether you would have selected this place in preference to all others, or whether you would have selected it at all. If the par- ties chose it, why should we doubt about it? How do we know the use they in- tended to make of it, or the kind of aid that he was to afford by being there? The question for you to consider is, Did the defendant go into Brown Street in aid of this murder? Did he go there by agreement, by appointment with the perpetrator? ^ If so, every thing else follows. The main thing, indeed the only thing, is to inquire whether he was in Brown Street by appointment with Richard Crowninshield. It might be to keep general watch; to observe the lights, and advise as to time of access; to meet the murderer on his return, to advise him as to his escape ; to examine his clothes, to see if any marks of blood were upon them ; to f ui-nish exchange of clothes, or new disguise, if necessary; to tell him through what streets he could safely retreat, or whether he could de- posit the club in the place designed ; or it might be without any distinct object, but merely to afford that encourage- ment which would proceed from Rich- ard Crowninshield's consciousness that he was near. It is of no consequence whether, in your opinion, the place was well chosen or not, to afford aid; if it was so chosen, if it was by appointment that he was there, it is enough. Sup- pose Richard Crowninshield, when ap- plied to to commit the murder, had said, " I won't do it unless there can be some one near by to favor my escape ; I won't go unless you will stay in Brown Street. ' ' Upon the gentleman's argument, be would not be an aider and abettor in the murder, because the place was not well chosen ; though it is apparent that the being in the place chosen was a con- dition, without which the murder would never have happened. You are to consider the defendant as one in the league, in the combination to commit the murder. If he was there by appointment with the perpetrator, he ia I 1 He did not. 14 210 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. an abettor. The concurrence of the per- petnitur in liis being there is proved by the previous evidence of the conspiracy. If Richard Cro\\'Tiinshield, for any pur- pose wiiatsoever, made it a condition of the agreement, that Frank Knapp should stand as backer, then Frank Knapp was an aider and abettor; no matter what the aid was, or what sort it was, or de- gree, be it ever so little ; even if it were to judge of the hour when it was best to go, or to see when the lights were extinguished, or to give an alarm if any one approached. "WHio better cal- culated to judge of these things than the murderer himself ? and if he so de- termined them, that is sufficient. Now as to the facts. Frank Knapp knew that the murder was that night to be committed; he was one of the con- spirators, he knew the object, he knew the time. He had that day been to Wenham to see Joseph, and probably to Danvers to see Richard Crownin- shield, for he kept his motions secret. He had that day hired a horse and chaise of Osborn, and attempted to conceal the purpose for which it was used; he had intentionally left the place and the price blank on Osborn's books. He went to AVenham by the way of Danvers; he had been told the week before to hasten Dick; he had seen the Crowninshields several times within a few days; he had a saddle-horse the Saturday night be- fore; he had seen Mrs. Beckford at Wenham, and knew she woaild not re- turn that night. She had not been away before for six weeks, and prob- ably would not soon be again. He had just come from Wenham. Every day, for the week previous, he had visited «ne or another of these conspirators, save Sunday, and then })robably he saw th'ini in town. When he saw Joseph on tlie (Jth, Joseph had prepared the house, and would naturally tell him of it; there were constant communications between them; daily and nigiitly visitation; too much knowledge of these parties and this transaction, to leave a particle of doubt on the mind of any one, that Frank Knapp knew the murder was to be committed this night. The hour was come, and he knew it; if so, and he was in Brown Street, without explaining why he was there, can the jury for a moment doubt whether he was there to counte- nance, aid, or support; or for curiosity alone ; or to learn how the wages of sin and death were earned by the perpe- trator? Here Mr. Webster read the law from Hawkins. 1 Hawk. 204, Lib. 1, ch. 88. sec. 7. The perpetrator would dei ive courage, and .strength, and confideuce, from the knowledge that one of his associates was near by. If he was in Brown Street, he could have been there for no other purpose. If there for this pur- pose, then he was, in the language of the law, present, aiding and abetting in the murder. His interest lay in being somewhere else. If he had nothing to do with the murder, no part to act, why not stay at home? Why should he jeopard bis own life, if it was not agreed that he should be there? He would not voluntarily go where the very place would cause him to swing if detected. He would not voluntarily assimie the place of danger. His taking this place proves that he went to give aid. His stajnng away would have made an alibi. If he had nothing to do with the murder, he would be at home, where he could prove his alibi. He knew he was in danger, because he was guilty of the conspiracy, and, if he had nothing to do, would not expose himself to suspicion or detection. Did the prisoner at the bar counte- nance this murder? Did he concur, or did he non-concur, in what the per}«- trator was about to do? 'Would he have tried to shield him? Would he have furnished his cloak for protection? "Woidd he have pointed out a safe way of retreat? As you would answer these que.stions, so you should answer the general question, wlii'tlu'r he was there consenting to the nuirdcr, or whether he was there as a spectator only. One word more on this presence, called constructive presence, ^^'hat aid THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 21] is to be rendered? Wliere is the line to be drawn, between acting, and omitting to act? Suppose he had been in the house, suppose he had followed the per- petrator to tlie chamber, what could he have done? This was to be a murder by stealth; it was to be a secret assas- sination. It was not their purpose to have an open combat; they were to ap- proach t.'ieir victim unawares, and si- lently give the fatal blow. But if he had been in the chamber, no one can doubt that he would have been an abettor; because of his presence, and ability to render services, if needed. "What service could he have rendered, if there? Could he have helped him to fly? Could he have aided the silence of his movements? Could he have fa- cilitated his retreat, on the first alarm? Surely, this was a case where there was more of safety in going alone than with another; where company would only embarrass. Richard Crowninshield would prefer to go alone. He knew his errand too well. His nerves needed no collateral support. He was not the man to take with him a trembling com- panion. He would prefer to have his aid at a distance. He would not wish to be encumbered by his presence. He would prefer to have him out of the house. He would prefer that he should be in Brown Street. But whether in the chamber, in the house, in the garden, or in the street, whatsoever is aiding in actual presence is aiding in constructive presence; any thing that is aid in one case is aid in the other. ^ If, then, the aid be anj'^vhere, so as to embolden the pei-petrator, to afford him hope or confidence in his enterprise, it is the same as though the person stood nt his elbow with his sword dra\vn. His being there ready to act, with the power to act, is what makes him an abettor. Here Mr. Webster referred to the cases of Ktlly, of Hyde, and otliers, cited by counsel for tJie defendant, and showed that tliey did not militate with the doctrine for wliich he contended. The difference is, in thosi cases there was open violence ; tliis 1 4 Hawk. 201, Lib. 4, ch. 29. sec. 8. was a case of secret assassination. The aid must meet tlie occasion. Here no act in;! was necessary, hut watching, conceal- ment of escape, management. "What are the facts in relation to this presence? Frank Knapp is proved to have been a conspirator, proved to have known that the deed was now to be done. Is it not probable that he was in Brown Street to concur in the murder? There were four conspirators. It was natural that some one of them should go with the perpetrator. Richard Crown inshield was to be the perpetrator; he was to give the blow. There is no evi- dence of any casting of the parts for the others. The defendant would prob- ably be the man to take the second part. He was fond of exploits, he was accustomed to the use of sword-canes and dirks. If any aid was required, he was the man to give it. At least, there is no evidence to the contrary of this. Aid could not have been received from Joseph Knapp, or from George Crowninshield. Joseph Knapp was at Wenham, and took good care to prove that he was there. George Crownin- shield has proved satisfactorily where he was; that he was in other company, such as it was, until eleven o'clock. This narrows the inquiry. This de- mands of the prisoner to show, if he was not in this place, where he was. It calls on him loudly to show this, and to show it truly. If he could show it, he would do it. If he does not tell, and that truly, it is against him. The de- fence of an alibi is a double-edged sword. He knew that he was in a sit- uation where he might be called upon to account for himself. If he had had no particular appointment or business to attend to, he woidd have taken care to be able so to account. He would have been out of town, or in some good company. Has he accounted for him- self on that night to your satisfaction? The prisoner has attempted to prove an alibi in two ways. In the first place, by four young men with whom he says he was in company, on the evening of the murder, from seven o'clock til) 212 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. near ten o'clock. This depends upon the certainty of the night. In the second place, by his family, from ten o'clock aftenvards. This depends upon the certainty of the time of the night. These two classes of proof have no con- nection with each other. One may be true, and the other false; or they may both be true, or both be false. I shall examine this testimony with some at- tention, because, on a former trial, it made more impression on the minds of the court than on my own mind. I think, when carefully sifted and com- pared, it will be found to have in it more of plausibility than reality'. Mr. Page testifies, that on the evening of the 6th of April he was in company with Bui-chmore. Balch. and Forrester, and that he met the defendant about seven o'clock, near the Salem Hotel; that he afterwards met him at Re- mond's, about nine o'clock, and that he was in company with him a consid- erable part of the evening. This young gentleman is a member of college, and says that he came to towai the Saturday evening previous; that he is now able to say tliat it was the night of the mur- der when he walked with Frank Knajip, from the recollection of the fact, that he called himself to an account, on the morning after the murder, as it is nat- ural for men to do when an extraor- dinary occurrence happens. Gentlemen, this kind of evidence is not satisfactory'; general impressions as to time are not to be relied on. If I were called on to state the particular day on which any witness testified in this cause, I could not do it. Every man will notice the same thing in his own mind. There is no one of these vonng men that could give an account of himself for any other day in the month of April. They are made to remember the fact, and then they think they remember the time. The witness has no means of knowing it was Tuesday rather than any other time. He did not know it at first; he could not know it afterwards. He says he called himself to an account. This has no more to do with the murder than with the man in the moon. Such testi- mony is not worthy to be relied on in any fort^--shilling cause. What occasion had he to call himself to an account? Did he suppose that he should be sus- pected? Had he any intimation of this conspiracy? Suppose, Gentlemen, you were either of you asked where you were, or whut you were doing, on the fifteenth day of June ; you could not answer this ques- tion without calling to mind some events to make it certain. Just as well may you remember on what you dined each day of the year past. Time is identical. Its subdivisions are all alike. Xo man knows one day from another, or one hour from another, but by some fact connected with it. Days and hours are not visible to the senses, nor to be appre- hended and distinguished by the under- standing. The flow of time is known only by something which marks it ; and he who speaks of the date of occurrences with nothing to guide his recollection speaks at random, and is not to be relied on. This young gentleman remembers the facts and occurrences; he knows nothing why they should not have hap- pened on the evening of tlie Gth ; but he knows no more. All the rest is evi- dently conjecture or impression. Mr. ^^^lite informs you, that he told him he could not tell what niijht it was. The first thoughts are all that are valu- able in such case. They miss the mark b)- taking i^econd aim. Mr. Balch believes, but is not sure, that he was with Frank Knapp on the evening of the murder. He has given different accounts of the time. He lias no means of making it certain All he knows is, that it was some evening be- fore Fast-day. But whether ^Monday, Tuesday, or Saturday, he cannot tell. Mr. Burchmore says, to the best of his belief, it was the evening of the murder. Afterwards he attempts to speak positively, from recollecting that he mentioned the circumstance to Wil- liam Peirce, as he went to the ^Mineral Spring on Fast-day. Last Monday morning he told Colonel Putnam he could not fix the time. This witness stands in a much worse plight thau THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 213 either of the others. It is difficult to reconcile all he has said with any belief in the accuracy of his recollections. Mr. Forrester does not speak with any certainty as to the night; and it is very certain that he told Mr. Loring and oth- ers, that he did not know what night it was. Now, what does the testimony of these four young men amount to? The only circumstance by which they ap- proximate to an identifying of the night is, that three of them say it was cloudy; they think their walk was either on ^Monday or Tuesday evening, and it is admitted that IMonday evening was clear, whence they draw the inference that it must have been Tuesday. But, fortunately, there is one fact disclosed in their testimony that settles the question. Balch says, that on the evening, whenever it was, he saw the prisoner; the prisoner told him he was going out of town on horseback, for a distance of about twenty minutes' drive, and that he was going to get a horse at Osborn's. This was about seven o'clock. At about nine, Balch says he saw the prisoner again, and was then told by him that he had had his ride, and had returned. Now it appears by Osborn's books, that the prisoner had a saddle- liorse from his stable, not on Tuesday evening, the night of the murder, but on the Saturday evening previous. This fixes the time about which these young men testify, and is a complete answer and refutation of the attempted alibi on Tuesday evening. I come now to speak of the testimony adduced by the defendant to explain where he was after ten o'clock on the night of the murder. This comes chiefly from members of the family ; from his father and brothers. It is agreed that the affidavit of the prisoner should be received as evidence of what his brother, Samuel H. Knapp, would testify if present. Samuel H. Knapp says, that, about ten minutes past ten o'clock, his brother, Frank Knapp, on his way to bed, opened his chamber door, made some remarks, closed the door, and went to his cham- ber ; and that he did not hear him leave it afterwards. How is this witness able to fix the time at ten minutes past ten? There is no circumstance mentioned by which he fixes it. He had been in bed, probably asleep, and was aroused from his sleep by the opening of the door. Was he in a situation to speak of time with precision? Could he know, under such circumstances, whetlier it was ten minutes past ten, or ten minutes be- fore eleven, when his brother spoke to him? "What would be the natural re- sult in such a case? But we are not left to conjecture this result. "We have positive testimony on this point. Mr. Webb tells you that Samuel told him, on the 8th of June, " that he did not know what time his brother Frank came home, and that he was not at home when Tie went to bed." You will consider this testimony of Mr. Webb as indorsed upon this affidavit; and with this in- dorsement upon it, you will give it its due weight. This statement was made to him after Frank was arrested. I come to the testimony of the father. I find myself incapable of speaking of him or his testimony with severity. Un- fortunate old man! Another Lear, in the conduct of his children; another Lear, 1 apprehend, in the effect of his distress upon his mind and understand- ing. He is brought here to testify, un der circumstances that disarm severity, and call loudly for sympathy. Though it is impossible not to see that his story cannot be credited, yet I am unable to speak of him otherwise than in sorrow and grief. Unhappy father! he strives to remember, perhaps persuades himself that he does remember, that on the even- in cr of the murder he was himself at home at ten o'clock. He thinks, or seems to think, that his son came in at about five minutes past ten. He fancies that he remembers his conversation ; he thinks he spoke of bolting the door; he thinks he asked the time of night; he seems to remember his then going to his bed. Alas ! these are but the swim- ming fancies of an agitated and distressed mind. Alas! they are but the dreams 214: THE MURDER OF CArTAIN JOSEm WHITE. of hope, its uncertain lights, flickering on the thick darkness of parental dis- tress. Alas ! the miserable father knows nothing, in reality, of all these things. Mr. Shepard says that the first con- versation he had with Mr. Knapp was soon after the murder, and be/ore the arrest of his sons. Mr. Knapp says it was after the arrest of his sons. His own fears led him to say to Mr. Shep- ard, that his "son Frank was at home that night; and so Phippen told him," or "as rhippen told him." Mr. Shep- ard says that he was struck with the remark at the time; that it made an unfavorable impression on his mind; he does not tell you what that impression was, but when you connect it with the previous inquiry he had made, whether Frank had continued to associate with the Crowninshields, and recollect that the Crowninshields were then kno^^^l to be suspected of this crime, cau you doubt what this impression was? can you doubt as to the fears he then had? This poor old man tells you, that he was greatly perplexed at the time ; that he found himself in embarrassed cir- cumstances ; that on this very night he was engaged in making an assignment of his property to his friend, Mr. Shep- ard. If ever charity should furnish a mantle for error, it should be here. Im- agination cannot picture a more deplora- ble, distressed condition. The same general remarks may be applied to his conversation with Mr. Treadwell, as have been made upon that with ^Ir. Shepard. He told him, that he believed Frank was at home about the usual time. In his conversations with either of these persons, he did not pretend to know, of his own knowledge, the time that he came home. He now tells you positively that he recollects the time, and that he so told ]Mr. Shepard. He is directly contradicted by both these witnesses, as respectable men as Salem affords. Tliis idea of an alibi is of recent ori- gin. Would Samuel Knapp have gone to sea if it were then thought of? His testimony, if true, was too important to be lost. If there be any truth in this part of the alihi, it is so near in pomt Oi. time that it cannot be relied on The mere variation of half an hour woidd avoid it. The mere variations of diifer- ent timepieces would explain it. Has the defendant proved where he was on that night? If you doubt about it, there is an end of it. The burden is upon him to satisfy you beyoud ;ill reasonable doubt. Osborn's bookf, iu connection with what the joung it^eu state, are conclusive, I think, on this point. He has not, then, accounted for himself; he has attempted it, and has failed. I pray you to remember. Gen- tlemen, that this is a case in which the prisoner would, more than any other, be rationally able to account for himself on the night of the murder, if he could do so. He was in the conspiracy, he knew the murder was then to be committed, and if he himself was to have no hand in its actual execution, he would of course, as a matter of safety and precau- tion, be somewhere else, and be able to prove afterwards that he had been some- where else. Having this motive to prove himself elsewhere, and the power to do it if he were elsewhere, his failing in such proof must necessarily leave a very strong inference against him. But, Gentlemen, let us now consider what is the evidence produced on the part of the government to prove that John Francis Knapp, the prisoner at the bar, was in Brown Street on the night of the murder. This is a point of vital importance in this cause. Unless this be made out, beyond reasonable doubt, the law of presence does not apply to the case. The goveniment undertake to prove that he was present aiding in the murder, by proving that he was in Btonnti Street for this purpose. Now, wiiat are the undoubted facts? They are, that two persons were seen in that street, several times during that evening, under suspicious circumstances; mider such circumstances as induced those who saw them to watch their movements. Of this tliere can be no doubt. Mirick saw a man standing at the post opposite his store from fifteen minutes before nine until tAventy minutes after, dressM THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 215 in a full frock-coat, glazed cap, and so forth, in size and general appearance answering to the prisoner at tlie bar. This person was waiting there; and whenever any one approached hiin, he moved to and from tlie corner, as tliough he would avoid being suspected or rec- ognized. Afterwards, two persons were seen by ^Vebster, walking in Howard Street, with a slow, deliberate movement that attracted his attention. This was about half-past nine. One of these he took to be the prisoner at the bar, the other he did not know. About half-past ten a person is seen sitting on the rope-walk steps, wrapped in a cloak. He drops his head when passed, to avoid being known. Sliortly after, two persons are seen to meet in this street, without ceremony or salutation, and in a hurried manner to converse for a short time; then to separate, and run off with great speed. Now, on this same night a gentleman is slain, murdered in his bed, his house being entered by stealth from without ; and his house sit- uated within three hundred feet of this street. The wdndows of his chamber were in plain sight from this street; a weapon of death is afterwards found in a place where these persons were seen to pass, in a retired place, around which they had been seen lingering. It is now known that this murder was committed by four persons, conspiring together for this purpose. No account is given who these suspected persons thus seen in Brown Street and its neighborhood were. Now, I ask, Gentlemen, whether you or any man can doubt that this murder was committed by the persons who were thus in and al)Out Brown Street. Can any pereon doubt that they were there for purposes connected with this murder? If not for this purpose, what were they there for? When there is a cause so near at hand, why wander into conjec- ture for an explanation? Common-sense requires you to take the nearest ade- quate cause for a known efiect. "\Mio were these suspicious persons in Brown Street? There was something extraor- dinary about them; something notice- able, and noticed at the time; something in their appearance that aroused suspi- cion. And a man is found the next morning murdered in the near vicinity. Now, so long as no other account shall be given of those suspicious persons, so long the inference must remain irresisti- ble that they were the murderers. I^^t it be remembered, that it is already shown that this nmrder was the result of conspiracy and of concert; let it l>e remembered, that the house, having been opened from within, was entered by stealth from without. Let it be remembered that Brown Street, where these persons were repeatedly seen under such suspicious circimistances, was a place from which every occupied room in Mr. White's house is clearly seen; let it he- re me mbered, that the place, though thu.s very near to ^Ir. White's house, is a re- tired and lonely place; and let it be re- membered that the instrument of death, was afterwards found concealed very, near the same spot. Must not every man come to the con- clusion, that these persons thus seen, in Brown Street were the murderers? Every man's own judgment, I think,, must satisfy him that this must be so.. It is a plain deduction of common sense. It is a point on which each one of you. may reason like a Hale or a ^Mansfield. The two occurrences explain each other. The murder shows why these persons- were thus lurking, at that hour, in Brown Street; and their lurking in Brown Street, shows who committed the murder. If, then, the persons in and about; Brown Street were the plotters and exe- cuters of the mm-der of Captain White,. we know who they were, and you know that tliere is one of them. This fearful concartenation of circum» stances puts him to an account. He was a conspirator. He had entered into this plan of murder. The murder is committed, and he is known to have been within three minutes' walk of the place. He must account for himself. He has attempted this, and failed.. Then, with all these general reasons to show he was actually in Brown Street, and liis failures in his alibi, let us see what is the direct proof of hLs being 216 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH T^HITE. there. But first, let me ask, is it not very remarkable that there is no attempt to show where Richard Crowniushield, Jr. was on that night? "We hear noth- ing of him. He was seen in none of his usual haunts about the town. Yet, if he was the actual perpetrator of the mur- der, which nobody doubts, he was in the town somewhere. Can you, therefore, entertain a doubt that he was one of the persons seen in Brown Street? And a-s to the prisoner, you will recollect, that, since the testimony of the young men has failed to show where he was on thai evening, the last we hear or know of l.m, on the day preceding the mur- der, is, that at four o'clock, p. m., he was at his brother's in Wenham. He had left home, after dinner, in a manner doubtless designed to avoid observation, and had gone to Wenham, probably by way of Dan vers. As we hear nothing of him after four o'clock, p. M., for the remainder of the day and evening; as he was one of the conspirators; as Richard Crowniushield, Jr. was another; as Richard Crowniushield, Jr. was in town in the evening, and yet seen in no usual place of resort, — the inference is very fair, that Richard Crowninshield, Jr. and the prisoner were together, acting in execution of their conspiracy. Of the four conspirators, J. J. Knapp, Jr. was at Wenham, and George Crownin- shield has been accounted for; so that if the persons seen in Brown Street were the murderers, one of them must have been Richard Crowninshield, Jr., and the other must have been the prisoner at tlie bar. Now, as to the proof of his identity with one of the persons seen in Brown Street. Mr. Mirick, a cautious witness, examined the person he saw, closely, in a light night, and says that he thinks the prisoner at the bar is the person ; and that he should not hesitate at all, if he were seen in the same dress. His opin- ion is formed partly from his own obser- vation, and partly from the description of others. But this description turns out to be only in regard to the dress. It is said, that he is now more confident th.an on the former trial. If he has varied in his testimony make such al- lowance as you may think proper. I do not perceive any material variance. He thought him the same person, when he was first brought to court, and as he saw him get out of the chaise. This is one of the cases in which a witness is per- mitted to give an opinion. This wit- ness is as honest as yourselves, neither willing nor swift; but he says, he be- lieves it was the man. His words are, " This is my opinion " ; and this opinion it is proper for him to give. If partly founded on what he has heard, then this opinion is not to be taken; but if on what he saiv, then you can have no better evidence. I lay no stress on similarity of dress. No man will ever lose his life by my voice on such evidence. But then it is proper to notice, that no infer- ences drawn from any dissimilarity of dress can be given in the prisoner's favor; because, in fact, the person seen by ^lirick was dressed like the prisoner. The description of the person seen by Mirick answers to that of the prisoner at the bar. In regard to the supposed discrepancy of statements, before and now, there woidd be no end to such minute inquiries. It would not be strange if witnesses should vary. I do not think much of slight shades of varia- tion. If I believe the witness is honest, that is enough. If he has expressed himself more strongly now than then, this does not prove him false. Peter E. Webster saw the prisoner at the bar, as he then thought, and still thinks, walking in Howard Street at half-past nine o'clock. He then thought it was Frank Knapp, and has not altered his opinion since. He knew him well; he had long known him. If he then thought it was he, this goes far to prove it. He observed him the more, as it was unusual to see gentlemen walk there at that hour. It was a retired, lonely street. Now, is there reasonable doubt that Mr. Webster did see him there that night? How can you have more proof than this? He judged by his walk, by his general appearance, by his deportment. AVe all judge in this manner If you believe he is right, it goes a gi-eat way in this THE MURDER OF CArXAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 21T ease. But then this person, it is said, had a cloak on, and that he couhi not, therefore, be the same person that ]\Iirick saw. If we were treating of men that had no occasion to disguise themselves or their conduct, there might be some- thing in this argument. But as it is, lliere is little in it. It may be presimied that they would change their dress. This would help their disguise. What is easier than to throw off a cloak, and again put it on? Perhaps he was less fearful of being known when alone, than when with the perpetrator. ]Mr. Southwick swears all that a man can swear. He has the best means of judging that could be had at the time. He tells you that he left his father's house at half-past ten o'clock, and as he passed to his own house in Brown Street he saw a man sitting on the steps of the rope-walk; that he passed him three times, and each time he held down his head, so that he did not see his face. That tiie man had on a cloak, which was not wrapi>ed around him, and a glazed cap. That he took the man to be Frank Knapp at the time; that, when he went into his house, he told his wife that he thought it was Frank Knapp; that he knew him well, having known him from a boy. And his wife swears that he did so tell her when he came home. What could mislead this witness at the time? He was not then suspecting Frank Knapp of any thing. He could not then be in- fluenced by any prejudice. If you believe that the -nitness saw Frank Knapp in this position at this time, it proves tlie case. Whether you believe it or not depends upon the credit of the witness. He swears it. If true, it is solid evidence. Mrs. Southwick supports her husband. Are they true? Are they worthy of belief? If he deserves the epithets ap- plied to him, then he ought not to be believed. In this fact they cannot be mistaken; they are right, or they are perjured. As to his not speaking to Frank Knapp, that depends upon their intimacy. But a very good reason is, Frank chose to disguise himself. This makes nothing against his credit. But it Lj said that he should not be believed. And why? Because, it is said, he him- self now tells you, that, when he testi- fied before the grand jury at Ipswich, he did not then say that he thought the person he saw in Brown Street was Frank Knapp, but that "the person was about the size of Sclman." The means of attacking him, therefore, come from himself. If he is a false man, why should he tell truths against himself? they rely on his veracity to prove that he is a liar. Before you can come to this conclusion, you will consider whether all the circumstances are now known, that should have a bearing on this point. Suppose that, when he was before the grand jury, he was asked by the attor- ney this question, " Was the person you saw in Brown Street about the size of Selman? " and he answered Yes. This was all true. Suppose, also, that he expected to be inquired of further, and no further questions were put to him. Would it not be extremely hard to im- pute to him perjury for this? It is not uncommon for witnesses to think that they have done all their duty, when they have answered the questions put to them. But suppose that we admit that he did not then tell all he knew, this does not affect the fact at all; because he did teU, at the time, in the hearing of others, that the person he saw was Frank Knapp. There is not the slightest suggestion against the veracity or accuracy of Mrs. Southwick. Now she swears positively, that her husband came into the house and told her that he had seen a person on the rope-walk steps, and believed it was Frank Knapp. It is said that ]Mr. Southwick is con- tradicted, also, by Mr. Shillaber. I do not so understand Mr. Shillaber's testi- mony. I think what they both testify is reconcilable, and consistent. My learned brother said, on a similar occa- sion, that there is more probability, in such cases, that the persons hearing should misunderstand, than that the person speaking should contradict him- self. I think the same remark appli- cable here. You have all witnessed the uncer- tainty of testimony, when witnesses are 218 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSKPII WHITE. called to testify what other witnesses said. Several respectable counsellors have been summoned, on this occasion, to give testimony of that sort. They have, every one of them, given different versions. They all took minutes at the time, and without doubt intend to state the truth. But still they differ. Mr. Shillabcr's version is different from every thing that Southwick has stated elsewhere. But little reliance is to be placed on slight variations in testimony, unless thoy are manifestly intentional. 1 think that Mr. Shillalier must be sat- isfied that he did not rightly understand Mr. Southwick. I confess I misunder- stood Mr. Shillaber on the former trial, if I now rightly understand him. I, therefore, did no( then recall Mr. South- wick to the stand. Mr. Southwick, as I read it, understood Mr. Shillaber as ask- ing him about a pei-son coming out of Newbury Street, and whether, for aught he knew, it might not be Richard Crowninshield, Jr. He answered, that he could not tell. He did not under- stand Mr. Shillaber as questioning him as to the person whom he saw sitting on the steps of the rope-walk. Southwick, on this trial, having heard Mr. Shillaber, has been recalled to the stand, and states that Mr. Shillaber entirely misunder- stood him. This is certainly most prob- able, because the controlling fact in the case is not controverted; that is, that Southwick did tell his wife, at the very moment he entered liis house, that he had seen a person on the rope-walk steps, whom he believed to be Frank Knapp. Nothing can prove with more certainty than tills, that Southwick, at the time, ikouyht the person whom he thus saw to be the prisoner at the bar. Mr. Bray is an acknowledged accu- rate and intelligent witness. He was higiily complimented by my brother on the foinier trial, altliough he now charges him witii varying his testimony. What could be his motive? You will be slow in. imiuiting to him any design of this kind. I deny altogether that there is any contradiction. There may be dif- ferences, but not contratliction. These arise from the difference in the questions put; the difference between believing and knowing. On the first trial, he said he did not know the person, and now says the same. Then, we did not do all we had a right to do. We did not ask him who he thought it was. Now, when so asked, he says he believes it was the prisoner at the bar. If he had then been asked this question, he would have given the same answer. That he has expressed himself more strongly, I admit; but he has not contradicted him- .self. He is more confident now; and that is all. A man may not assert a thing, and still may have no doubt upon it. Cannot every man see this distinc- tion to be consistent? I leave him in that attitude; that only is the difference. On questions of identity, opinion is evi- dence. We may ask the witness, either if he knew who the person seen was, or who he thinks he was. And he may well answer, as Captain Bray has an- swered, that he does not know who it was, but that he thinks it was the pris- oner. We have offered to produce witnesses to prove, that, as soon as Bray saw tlie prisoner, he pronounced him the same person. "We are not at liberty to call them to corroborate our own witness. How, then, could this fact of the pris- oner's being in Brown Street be better proved? If ten witnesses had testified to it, it would be no better. Two men, who knew him well, took it to be Frank Knapp, and one of them so said, when there was nothing to mislead them. Two others, who examined him closely, now swear to their opinion that he is the man. Mi.ss Jaqneth saw three persons pas3 by the rope-walk, several evenings before the nmrder. She saw one of them point- ing towards Mr. White's house. She noticed that another had something which appeared to be like an instru- ment of music; that he put it behind him and attempted to conceal it. Who were these persons? Tliis was but a few steps from tiie place where this ap- parent instrument of music (of mugic such as Richard Crowninshield, Jr. s^wke of to Palmer) was afterwards THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 219 fonnd. These facts prove this a point of rendezvous for these parties. They Bhow Brown Street to have been the place for consultation and observation ; and to this purpose it was well suited. Mr. Burns's testimony is also impor- tant. What was the lefendant's object in his private conversation with Burns? lie knew that Burns was out that night; that he lived near Brown Street, and that he had probably seen him; and he wished him to say nothing. He said to Burns, " If you saw any of your friends out that night, say nothing about it; my brother Joe and I are your friends." This is plain proof that he wished to say to him, if you saw me in Brown Street that night, say nothing about it. But it is said that Burns ought not to be belies'ed, because he mistook the color of the dagger, and because he has varied in his description of it. These are slight circumstances, if his general character be good. To my mind they are of no importance. It is for you to make what deduction you may think proper, on this account, from the weight of his evidence. His conversation with Burns, if Burns is believed, shows two things; first, that he desired Burns not to mention it, if he had seen him on the night of the mur- der; second, that he wished to fix the charge of murder on Mr. Stephen White. Both of these prove his own guilt. I think you will be of opinion, that Brown Street was a probable place for the conspirators to assemble, and for an aid to be stationed. If we knew their whole plan, and if we were skilled to judge in such a case, then we could per- haps determine on this point better. But it is a retired place, and still com- mands a full view of the house ; a lonely place, but still a place of observation. Not so lonely that a person would excite su.spicion to be seen walking there in an ordinary manner; not so public as to be noticed bv many- It is near enough to the scene of action in point of law. It was their point of centrality. The club was found near the spot, in a place pro- vided for it, in a place that had been previously hunted out, in a concerted place of concealment. Here was their point of rendezvous. Here might the lights be seen. Here miglit an aid be secreted. Here was he within call. Here miglit he be arou.sed by the sound of the whistle. Here might he caiTy the weapon. Here might lie receive the murderer after the murder. Then, Gentlemen, the general que.>i- tion occurs, Is it satisfactorily proved. by all these facts and circumstances, that the defendant was in and about Brown Street on the night of the mur- der? Considering that the murder was effected by a conspiracy; consideiing that he was one of the four conspirators: considering that two of the conspirator? have accounted for themselves on the night of the murder, and were not in Brown Street; considering that the pris- oner does not account for himself, nor show where he was; considering tliat Richard Crowninshield, the other con- spirator and the perpetrator, is not ac- counted for, nor shown to be elsewhere; considering that it is now past all doubt that two persons were seen lurking iu and about Brown Street at different times, avoiding observation, and excit ing so much suspicion that the neigh bors actually watched them; considering that, if these persons thus lurking in Bi-own Street at that hour were not the murderers, it remains to this day wholly unknown who they were or what theii business was; considering the testimony of Miss Jaqueth, and that the club was afterwards found near this place ; consid- ering, finally, that Webster and South- wick saw these persons, and tlien took one of them for the defendant, and that Southwick then told his wife so, and that Bray and ^lirick examined them closely, and now swear to their belief that the prisoner was one of them ; — it is for you to say, putting these consider- ations together, whether you believe the prisoner was actually in Brown Street at the time of the mui'der. By the counsel for the prisoner, much stress has been laid upon the question, whether Brown Street was a place in which aid could be given, a place in which actual assistance could be ren- dered in this transaction. This mu.st be ■220 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH TVHITE. mainly decided by their own opinion who selected the place; by what they thought at the time, according to their plan of operation. If it was agreed that the prisoner should be there to assist, it is enough. If they tliought the place proper for their purpose, according to their plan, it is BulBcient. Suppose we could prove ex- pressly that they agreed that Frank should be there, and he was there, and you should think it not a well-chosen place for aiding and abetting, must he be acquitted? No! It is not what / think or you think of the appropriate- ness of the place; it is what they thought at the time. If the prisoner was in Brown Street by appointment and agree- ment with the perpetrator, for the pur- pose of giving assistance if assistance should be needed, it may safely be pre- sumed that the place was suited to such assistance as it was supposed by the par- ties might chance to become requisite. If in Brown Street, was he there by appointment? was he there to aid, if aid were necessary? was he there for, or against, the murderer? to concur, or to oppose? to favor, or to thwart? Did the perpetrator know he was there, there waiting ? If so, then it follows that he was there by appointment. He was at the post half an hour; he was waiting for somebody. This proves appoint- ment, arrangement, previous agreement ; then it follows that he was there to aid, to encourage, to embolden the perpetra- tor; and that is enough. If he w'ere in such a situation as to afford aid, or that he was relied upon for aid, then he was aiding and abetting. It is enough that the conspirator desired to have him there. Besides, it may be well said, that he could afford just as much aid there a.s if he had been in Essex Street, as if he had been standing even at the gate, or at the window. It was not an act of power against power that was to be done ; it was a secret act, to be done by stealth. The aid was to be placed in a position pecure from observation. It was impor- tant to tiie security of both that he sliould be in a lonoly place. Xow it is obvious that there are many purposes for which he might be in Brown Street. 1. Richard Crowninshield might have been secreted in the garden, and wait- ing for a signal: 2. Or he might be in Brown Street to advise him as to the time of making hia entry into the house; 3. Or to favor his escape; 4. Or to see if the street was clear when he came out; 5. Or to conceal the weapon or the clothes ; 6. To be ready for any unforeseen contingency. Richard Crowninshield lived in Dan- vers. He would retire by the most se- cret way. Brown Street is that way. If you find him there, can you doubt why he was there? If, Gentlemen, the prisoner went into Brown Street, by appointment with the perpetrator, to render aid or encourage- ment in any of these ways, he was pres- ent, in legal contemplation, aiding and abettinof in this murder. It is not necessary that he should have done any thing; it is enough that he was ready to act, and in a place to act. If his being in Brown Street, by appointment, at the time of the murder, emboldened the purpose and encouraged the heart of the murderer, by the hope of instant aid, if aid should become necessary, then, with- out doubt, he was present, aiding and abetting, and was a principal in the murder. I now proceed. Gentlemen, to the con- sideration of the testimony of Mr. Colman. Although this evidence bears on every material part of the cause, I have purposely avoided every comment on it till the present moment, wlu-n I have done with the other evidence in the case. As to the admission of this evi- dence, there has been a great struggle, and its importance demanded it. The general rule of law is, that confessions are to be received as evidence. They are entitled to great or to little consid- eration, according to the circumstances under which they are made. A'dluntary, deliberate confessions are the most im- THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 221 portant and satisfactory evidence, but confessions hastily made, or improperly obtained, are entitled to little or no con- sideration. It is always to be inquired, whether they were purely voluntary, or were made under any undue influence of hope or fear; for, in general, if any influence were exerted on the mind of the person confessing, such confessions are not to be submitted to a jury. Who is Mr. Colmau ? He is an intelli- gent, accurate, and cautious witness; a gentleman of high and well-kuown char- acter, and of unquestionable veracity; as a clergyman, highly respectable; as a man, of fair name and fame. Why was Mr. Colman with the pris- oner ? Joseph J. Knapp was his parish- ioner; he was the head of a family, and had been married by J\Ir. Colman. The interests of that family were dear to him. ' He felt for their afflictions, and was anxious to alleviate their sufferings. He went from the purest and best of mo- tives to visit Joseph Knapp. He came to save, not to destroy; to rescue, not to take away life. In this family he thought there might be a chance to save one. It is a misconstruction of Mr. Colman's motives, at once the most strange and the most uncharitable, a perversion of all just views of his con- duct and intentions the most unaccount- able, to represent him as acting, on this occasion, in hostility to any one, or as desirous of injuring or endangering any one. He has stated his own motives, and his own conduct, in a manner to command universal belief and universal respect. For intelligence, for consist- ency, for accuracy, for caution, for can- dor, never did witness acquit himself better, or stand fairer. In all that he dill as a man, and all he has said as a witness, he has shown himself worthy of entire regard. Now, Gentlemen, very important con- fessions made by the prisoner are sworn to by Air. Colman. They were made in the prisoner's cell, where Mr. Colman had gone with the prisoner's brother, N. Phippen Knapp. Whatever conver- sation took place was in the presence of N P. Kn;'pp. New, on the part of the prisoner, two things are asserted; first, that such inducements were suggested to the prisoner, in this interview, that no confessions made by him ought to be received; second, that, in point of fact, he made no such confe.ssions as Mr. Colman testifies to, nor, indeed, any confessions at all. These two proposi- tions are attempted to be supported by the testimony of N. P. Knajip. These two witnesses, Mr. Colman and N. P. Knapp, differ entirely. There is no possibility of reconciling them. No charity can cover both. One or the other has sworn falsely. If N. P. Knapp be believed, Mr. Colman's testi- mony must be wholly disregarded. It is, then, a question of credit, a question of belief between the two witnesses. As you decide between these, so you will decide on all this part of the case. Mr. Colman has given you a plain narrative, a consistent account, and has nniformly stated the same things. He is not contradicted, except by the testi- mony of I'hippen Knapp. He is influ- enced, as far as we can see, by no bias, or prejudice, any more than other men, except so far as his character is now at stake. He has feelings on this point, doubtless, and ought to have. If what he has stated be not true, I cannot see any ground for his escape. If he be a true man, he must have heard what he testifies. No treachery of meraoiy brings to memory things that never took place. There is no reconciling his evi- dence with good intention, if the facta in it are not as he states them. He is on trial as to his veracity. The relation in which the other wit- ness stands deserves your careful consid- eration. He is a member of the family He has the lives of two brothers de- pending, as he may think, on the effect of his evidence; depending on every word he speaks. I hope he has not an- other responsibility resting upon him. By the advice of a friend, and that friend Mr. Colman, J. Knapp made a full and free confession, and obtained a promise of pardon. He has since, as you know, probably by the advice of other friends, retracted that confession. 000 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. and rejected the offered pixrdon. Events will show who of these friends and ad- visers advised him best, and befriended him most. In the mean time, if this brother, the witness, be one of these advisers, and advised the retraction, he has. most emphatically, the lives of his bi others restinjr upon his evidence and upon his conduct. Compare the situa- tion of these two witnesses. Do you not see inic^hty motive enough on the one side, and want of all motive on the other? I would gladly find an apology for that witness, in his agonized feel- ings, in his distressed situation; in the agitation of that hour, or of this. I would gladly impute it to error, or to want of recollection, to confusion of mind, or disturbance of feeling. I would gladly impute to any pardonable source that which cannot be reconciled to facts and to truth ; but, even in a ca.se calling for .so much sympathy, justice must yet prevail, and we must come tn the conclusion, however reluctantly, which that demands from us. It is said, Phippen Knapp was prob- ably correct, because he knew he should probably be called as a witness. Wit- ness to what? When he says there was no confession, what could he expect to bear witness of? Hut I do not put it on the ground that he did not hear; I am compelled to put it on the other ground, that he did hear, and does not now truly tell what he heard. If Mr. Colman were out of the case, there are other rea.sons why the story of Phippen Knapp should not be believed. It has in it inherent improbabilities. It is unnatural, and inconsistent with the accompanying circumstances. He tells you that they went " to the cell of Frank, to see if he had any objection to taking a trial, and suffering his brother to accept the offer of pardon"; in other words, to obtain Frank's consent to Jo- seph's making a confession; and in case this consent was not obtained, that the pardon would be offered to Frank. Did they bandy about the chance of life, be- tween the.^e two, in this way? Did Mr. Colman. after having given this pledge to Jo.seph, and after having received a disclosure from Joseph, go to the cell of Frank for such a purpose as this? It is impossible; it cannot be so. Again, we know that Mr. Colman found the club the next day; that he went directlj' to the place of deposit, and found it at the first attempt, exactly where he says he had been informed it was. Now Phipjten Knapp says, that Frank had stated nothing respecting the club; that it was not mentioned in that conversation. He says, also, that he was present in the cell of Joseph all the time that Mr. Colman was there; that he believes he heard all that was said in Joseph's cell; and that he did not him- self know where the club was, and never had known where it was, until he heard it stated in court. Now it is certain that yiv. Colman says he did not learn the particular place of deposit of the club from Joseph; that he only learned from him that it was deposited under the steps of the Howard Street meeting- house, without defining the particular steps. It is certain, also, that he had more knowledge of the position of the club than this; else how could he have placed his hand on it so readily? and where else could he have obtained this knowledge, except from Frank? Here Mr. De.xter said that Mr. Colman liiul had other interviews with Joseph, and niiy:Iit have derived the information from liitn at previous visits. Mr. Wehster re- plied, that Mr. Colman had testified that he learned nothing in relation to the club until ihis visit. Mr. Dexter denied there being ;niy such testimony. Mr. Coinian's evi- dence was read, from the notes of tlie judges, and several other persons, and Mr. Webster then proceeded. My point is to show that Phippen Knapp's story is not true, is not consist- ent with itself; that, taking it for grant- ed, as he says, that he heard all that was said to Mr. Colman in both cells, by Jo- seph and by Frank; and that Josejih did not state particularly where the club was deposited; and that he knew as much about the place of deposit of the club as Mr. Colman knew ; why, then Mr. Col- man must either have been iniraculi)usly informed respecting the club, or Phippeo THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 223 Knapp has not told you the whole truth. There is no reconciling this, witliout Bupposinj; that Mr. Cuhiiaii has misrep- resented what took place in Joseph's cell, as well as wliat took place in Frank's cell. Again, Phippen Knapp is directly contradicted by Mr. Wheatland. IMr. Wheatland tells the same story, as com- ing from Phippen Knapp, tliat Colman now tells. Here there are two against one. Phippen Knapp says that Frank made no confessions, and tliat he said he had none to make. In this he is con- tradicted by Wheatland, lie, Phippen Knapp, told Wheatland, that Mr. Col- man did ask Frank some questions, and that Frank answered them. lie told him also what these answers were. Wheat- land does not i-ecollect the questions or answers, but recollects his reply; which was, "Is not this premature f I think this answer is sutHcient to make Frank a principal." Here Phippen Knapp opposes himself to Wlieatland, as well as to Mr. Colman. Do you believe Phip- pen Knapp against these two respectable witnesses, or them against him? Is not Mr. Colman's testimony credi- ble, natural, and proper? To judge of this, you must go back to that scene. The murder had been committed; the two Knapps were now arrested; four persons were already in jail supposed to be concerned in it, the Crown inshields, and Selman, and Chase. Another per- son at the Eastward was supposed to be in the plot ; it was important to learn the facts. To do this, some one of those suspected nmst be admitted to turn state's witne.ss. The contest was. Who should have this privilege? It was un- derstood that it was about to be offered to Palmer, then in Maine; there was no good reason why he should have the preference. Mr. Colman felt interested for the family of the Knapps, and par- ticularly for Joseph. He was a young man who had hitherto maintained a fair standing in society; he was a husband. Mr. Colman was particularly intimate with his family. With these views he went to the prison. He believed that he might safely converse with the pris- oner, because he thought confessions made to a clergyman were sacred, and tliat he could not be called njxjn to di.s- clo.se them. He went, the hist time, in the morning, and was requested to come again. He went again at three o'clock; and was requested to call again at five o'clock. In the mean time he .saw the father and Phippen, and they wished he would not go again, because it would be said the prisoners were making confes- sion. He said he had engaged to go again at five o'clock; but would not, if Phippen would excuse him to Joseph. Phippen engaged to do this, and to meet him at his office at five o'clock. Mr. Colman went to the office at the time, and waited; but, as Phippen was not there, he walked down street, and saw him coming from the jail. He met him, and while in conversation near the chuFch, he saw Mrs. Beckford and Mrs. Knapp going in a chaise towards the jail, lie hastened to meet them, as he thought it not proper for them to go in at that time. While conversing with them near the jail, he received twc distinct messages from Joseph, that he wished to see him. He thought it proper to go; and accordingly went to Joseph's cell, and it was while there that the dis- closures were made. Before Joseph had finished his statement, Phippen came to the door; he was soon after admitted. A short interval ensued, and they went together to the cell of Frank. Mr. Col- man went in by invitation of Phippen; he had come directly from the cell of Jo.seph, where he had for the fiist time learned the incidents of the tragedy. He was incredulous as to some of the facts which he had learned, they were so different from his previous impres- sions. He was desirous of knowing whether he could place confidence in what Joseph had told liim. He. there- fore, put the questions to Frank, as lie has te.stified before you; in answer to which Frank Knapp informed him, — 1. "That the murder took place be- tween ten and eleven o'clock." 2. " That Richard Crowniushield was alone in the house." 3. " That he, Frank Knapp, weni home afterwards." 224 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 4. " That the club was deposited under the steps of the Howard Street meeting-house, and under the part near- est the burying-ground, in a rat hole." 5. " That the dagger or daggers had been worked up at the factoi-y." It is said that these five answers just fit tlie case; that they are jiLst what was wanted, and neither more nor less. True, they are; but the reason is, be- cause truth always fits. Truth is always congruous, and agrees with itself: every truth in the universe agrees with every other truth in the universe, whereas falsehoods not only disagree with truths, but usually quarrel among themselves. Surely Mr. Colraan is influenced by no bia.s, no prejudice; he has no feelings to warp him, except, now that he is con- tradicted, he may feel an interest to be believed. If you believe Mr. Colman, then the evidence is fairly in the case. I shall now proceed on the ground that you do believe Mr. Colman. When told that Joseph had deter- mined to confess, the defendant said, '' It is hard, or unfair, that Joseph should have the benefit of confessing, since tiie thing was done for his benefit." What thing was done for his benefit? Does not this carry an implication of the guilt of the defendant? Does it not show that he had a knowledge of the object and history of the murder? The defendant said, " I told Joseph, when he proposed it, that it was a silly business, and would get us into trouble." He knew, then, what this business was; he knew that Joseph proposed it, and that he agreed to it, else he could not get us into trouble; he understood its bearing and its consequences. Thus much was said, under circumstances that make it clearly evidence against him, before there is any pretence of an inducement held out. And does not this prove him to have had a knowledge of the conspiracy? He knew the daggers had been de- stroyed, and he knew who committed the murder. How could he have inno- cently known these facts? Why, if by Richard's story, tliis shows him guilty of a knowledge of the murder, and of the conspiracy. More than all, he knew when the deed was done, and that he went home afterwards. This shows his participation in that deed. " Went home afterwards "! Home, from what scene? home, from what fact? home, from what transaction? home, from what place? This confirms the supposition that the prisoner was in Brown Street for the purposes ascribed to him. These ques- tions were directly put, and directly answered. He does not intimate that he received the information from an- other. Now, if he knows the time, and went home afterwards, and does not ex- cuse hifnself, is not this an admission that he had a hand in this murder? Already proved to be a conspirator in the murder, he now confesses that he knew who did it, at what time it was done, that he was liimself out of his own house at the time, and went home after- wards. Is not this conclusive, if not explained? Then comes the club. He told where it was. This is like posses- sion of stolen goods. He is charged with the guilty knowledge of this con- cealment. He must show, not say, how he came by this knowledge. If a man be found with stolen goods, he must prove how he came by them. The place of deposit of the club was premedi- tated and selected, and he knew where it was. Joseph Knapp was an accessory, and an accessory only ; he knew only what was told him. But the prisoner knew the particular spot in which the club might be found. This shows his knowl- edge .something more than that of an accessory. This presumption must be rebutted by evidence, or it stands strong against him. He has too much knowl- edge of this transaction to have come innocently by it. It must stand against him until he explains it. This testimony of Mr. Colman is rep- resented as new matter, and therefore an attempt has been made to excite a prejudice against it. It is not so. How little is there in it, after all, that did not appear from other sources? It is mainly confirmatory. Compare what THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. 225 you learn from this confession with what you before knew. As to its beinc: proposed by Joseph, was not that known? As to Richard's being alone in the house, was not that known? As to the daggers, was not that known? As to the time of the murder, was DOt that known? As to his being out that night, was not that known? As to his returning afterwards, was n')t that known? As to the club, was not that known? So tins information confirms what was known before, and fully confirms it. One word as to the interview between Mr. Colman and Phippen Knapp on the turnpike. It is said that Mr. Colman's conduct in this matter is inconsistent with his testimony. Tiiere does not appear to me to be any inconsistency. He tells you that his object was to save Joseph, and to hurt no one, and least of all the prisoner at the bar. He had probably told ^Ir. White the substance of what he heard at the prison. He had probably told him that Frank confirmed what Joseph had confessed. He was unwilling to be the instrument of harm to Frank. He therefore, at the request of Phippen Knapp, WTote a note to ]\Ir. White, requesting him to consider Jo- seph as authority for the information he had received. He tells you that this is the only thing he has to regret, as it may seem to be an evasion, as he doubts whether it was entirely correct. If it was an evasion, if it was a deviation, if it was an error, it was an error of mercy, an error of kindness, — an error that proves he had no hostility to the pris- oner at the bar. It does not in the least vary his testimony, or affect its correctness. Gentlemen, I look on the evidence of Mr. Colman as highly im- portant; not as bringing into the cause new facts, but as confirming, in a very satisfactory manner, other evidence. It is incredible that he can be false, and that he is seeking the prisoner's life through false swearing. If he is true. it is incredible that the prisoner can be innocent. Gentlemen, I have gone through with the evidence in this case, and have en- deavored to state it plainly and fairly before you. I think tlieie are conclu- sions to be drawn from it, the accuracy of which you cannot doubt. I think you cannot doubt that there was a conspiracy formed for the purpose of committing this murder, and who the conspirators were: That you cannot doubt that the Crowninshields and the Knapps were the parties in this conspiracy: That you cannot doubt that the pris- oner at the bar knew that the murder was to be done on the night of the Gth of April: That you cannot doubt that the mur- derers of Captain White were the suspi- cious persons seen in and about Brown; Street on that night: ' That you cannot doubt that Richard. Crowninshield was the perpetrator of that crime: That you cannot doubt that the pris- oner at the bar was in Brown Street on< that night. If there, then it must be by agree- ment, to countenance, to aid the pei-pe- trator. And if so, then he is guilty as Pkinxipal. Gentlemen, your whole concern shouldi be to do your duty, atid leave consequen- ces to take care of themselves. You. will receive the law from the court. Your verdict, it is true, may endanger the prisoner's life, but then it is tO' save other lives. It the prisoner's guilt has been shown and proved beyond all reasonable doubt, you will convict him. If such reasonable doubts of guilt still remain, you will acquit him. You are the judges of the whole case. You owe a duty to the public, as well as to the j^ris- oner at the bar. You cannot presume to be wiser than the law. Y'onr t- less we would all judge him in mercy. Towards him, as an individual, the law inculcates no hostility; but towards liim, if proved to be a murderer, the law, and lo 226 THE MURDER OF CAPTAIN JOSEPH WHITE. the oaths you have taken, and public justice, demand that you do your duty. With consciences satisfied ■with the discharge of duty, no consequences can harm you. There is no evil that we cannot either face or fly from, but the consciousness of duty disregarded. A sense of duty pursues us ever. It is om- nipresent, like the Deity. If we take to ourselves the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea, duty performed, or duty violated, is still irith us, for our happiness or our mis- ery. If we say the darkness shall cover us. in the darkness as in the light our obligations are yet with us. We can- not escape their power, nor fly from their presence. They are with us in this life, will be with us at its close; and in that scene of inconceivable solemnity, whii'h lies yet farther onward, we shall still find ourselves surrounded by the con- sciousness of duty, to pain us wherever it has been violated, and to console u.s so far as God may have given us grace to perform it. THE REPLY TO HAYNE. SECOND SPEECH ON "FOOT'S RESOLUTION," DELIVERED IN- THE SENATE OF THE UNITED STATES, ON THE 26th AND 27th OF JANUARY, 1830. [Mr. "Webster having completed on Jan- uary 20th his first speech on Foot's resolu- tion, Mr. Benton spoke in reply, on the 20th and 21st of January, 1830. Mr. Hayne of South Carolina followed on the same side, but, after some time, gave way for a motion for adjournment. On Monday, the 25th, Mr. Hayne resumed, and concluded his argument. Mr. Webster immediately rose in reply, but yielded the floor for a motion for adjournment. The next day (26th January, 1830) Mr. Webster took the floor and delivered the following speech, which has given such great celebrity to the debate. The circum- stances connected with this remarkable ef- fort of parliamentary eloquence are vividly set forth in Mr. Everett's Memoir, prefixed to the first volume of Mr. Webster's Works.] Mr. President, — When the mari- ner has been tossed for many days in thick weatiier, and on an unknown sea, he naturally avails himself of the first pause in the storm, the earliest glance of the sun, to take his latitude, and as- certain how far the elements have driven him from his true course. Let us imi- tate this prudence, and, before we float farther on the waves of this debate, refer to the point from which we departed, that we may at least be able to conjecture where we now are. I ask for the reading of the resolution before the Senate. The Secretary read the resolution, as follows : — "Rrsolved, That the Committee on Public Lands be instructed to inquire and report the quantity of public lands remaining un- sold within each State and Territory, and whether it be expedient to limit for a cer- tain period the sales of the public lands to such lands only as have heretofore been offered for sale, and are now subject to entry at the minimum price. And, also, whether the office of Surveyor-General, and some of the land offices, may not be abol- ished without detriment to the public inter- est ; or whether it be expedient to adopt measures to hasten the sales and extend more rapidly the surveys of the public lands." We have thus heard, Sir, -what the resolution is which is actually before us for consideration; and it will readily occur to every one, that it is almost the only subject about which something haa not been said in the speech, running through two days, by which the Senate has been entertained by the gentleman from South Carolina. Every topic in the wide range of our public affairs, whether past or present, — every thing, general or local, whether belonging to national politics or party politics, — seems to have attracted more or less of the honorable member's attention, save only the resolution before the Senate. He has spoken of every thing but the public lands ; they have escaped his no- tice. To that subject, in all his excur- sions, he has not paid even the cold respect of a passing glance. When this debate, Sir, was tD be re- sumed, on Thursday morning, it so happened that it would have been con- venient for me to be elsewhere. The honorable member, however, did not incline to put off the discussion to an- other day. He had a shot, he said, to return, and he wished to discharge it. 228 THE REPLY TO HAYNE. That shot, Sir, which he thus kindly in- formed us was coming, that we might stand out of the way, or prepare our- selves tc fall by it and die with decency, lias now been received. Under all ad- vantages, and with expectation awa- kened by the tone which preceded it, it has been discharged, and has spent ita force. It may become me to say no uioic of its effect, than that, if noboinions, nothing was farther from my intention than to commence any personal warfare. Through the whole of the few remarks I made in answer, I avoided, studiously and carefully, every thing which I thought possible to be construed into disrespect. And, Sir, while there is thus nothing origin.iting here which I have wished at any time, or now wi4i, to discharge, I must repeat, also, lli;it nothing has been received here which rankles, or in any way gives me annoy- ance. I will not accuse the honorable member of violating the rules of civilized war; I will not say, that he poi.sonoint in Southern feeling; antl of late years it has always been touched, and generally with effect, whenever the object has been to unite the whole South against Northern men or Northern measures. This feeling, always carefully kept alive, and main- tained at too intense a heat to admit discrimination or reflection, is a lever of great power in our })olitical machine. It moves vast bodies, and gives to thoni one and the same direction. But it is without adequate cause, and the suspi- cion which exists is wholly groundless. There is not, and never has been, a dis- position in the Xorth to interfere m ith these interests of the South. Such in- terference has never been supposed to be within the power of government; nor has it been iu any way attempted. The slavery of the South has always been regarded as a matter of domestic policy, left with the States themselves, and with w hich the Federal government had noth- ing to do. Certainly, Sir, I am, and evei have been, of that opinion. The gen- tleman, indeed, argues that slaveiy, in the abstract, is no evil. Most assuredly I need not say I differ with him, alto- gether and most widely, on that point. I regard domestic slavery as one of the greatest evils, both moral and political. But whether it be a malady, and w hether it be curable, and if so, by what means; or, on the other hand, whether it be the vulnus immedicahile of the social system, I leave it to those whose right and duty it is to inquire and to decide. And this I believe, Sir, is, and uniformly has been, the sentiment of the North. Let us look a little at the history of this matter. When the present Constitution was submitted for the ratification of the peo- ple, there were those who imagined that the powers of the government which it proposed to establish might, in some possible mode, be exerted in measures tendinir to the abolition of sLiverv. This suffiiestion would of course attract much attention in the Southern conventions. In that of Virginia, Governor Randolph said: — " I hope there is none here, who, con- sidering tlie subject in the cahn light of philosophy, will nuike an objection dis- honorable to Virginia; that, at the mo- ment they are securing the rights of their citizens, an objection is started, that there is a spark of hope that those unfortunate men now held in bondage may, by the oi>eration of the general government, be made free." At the very first Congress, petitions on the subject were ]ireseuted, if 1 mis- take not, from ditYeient States. The Pennsylvania society for promoting the abolition of slavery took a lead, and laid before Congress a memorial, praying THE REPLY TO HA'i'NE. 233 Congress to promote tlie abolition by 8uch powers as it possessed. This me- morial was referred, in the House of Representatives, to a select committee, consisting of Mr. Foster of New Hamp- shire, Mr. Gerry of Massachusetts, Mr. Huntington of Connecticut, Mr. Law- rence of Xew York, Mr. isinnickson of New Jersey, Mr. Hartley of Pennsylva- nia, and Mr. Parker of Virginia, — all oi them. Sir, as you will observe, North- ei n men but the last. This committee made a rejiort, which was referred to a committee of the whole House, and there considered and discussed for sev- eral days; and being amended, although without material alteration, it was made to express three distinct propositions, on the subject of slavery and the slave- trade. First, in the words of the Con- stitution, that Congress could not, prior to the year 1SU8, prohibit the migration or impoilation of such persons as any of the States then existing should think proper to admit ; and, secondly, that Congress had authority to restrain the citizens of the Laiited States from car- rying on the African slave-trade, for the purpose of supplying foreign comitries. On this proposition, our early laws against those who engage in that traffic are founded. The third proposition, and that which bears on the present ques- tion, was expressed in the following terms : — '' Resoh-ed, That Congress have no authority to interfere in the emancipa- tion of slaves, or in the treatment of them in any of the States; it remaining with the several States alone to provide rules and regulations therein which hu- manity and true policy may require." This resolution received the sanction of the House of Representatives so early as March, 1790. And now. Sir, the honorable member will allow me to re- mind him, that not only were the select conmiittee who reported the resolution, with a single exception, all Northern men, but also that, of the members then composing the House of Representa- tives, a large majority, I believe nearly two thirds, were Northern men also. The J louse agreed to insert these reso- lutions in its journal ; and from that day to this it has never been maintained or contended at the North, tliat Congress had any authority to regulate or inter- fere with the condition of slaves in the several States. No Northern gentle- man, to my knowledge, has moved any such question in either House of Con- gress. The fears of the South, whatever fears they might have entertained, were al- layed and quieted by this early decis- ion ; and so remained till they were excited afresh, without cause, but for collateral and indirect purposes. AVlien it became necessary, or was thought so, by some political persons, to find an unvarying ground for the exclusion of Northern men from confidence and frona lead in the affairs of the republic, then, and not till then, the cry was raised, and the feeling industriously excited, that the influence of Northern men in the public counsels would endanger the re- lation of master and slave. For myself, I claim no other merit than that this gross and enormous injustice towards the whole North has not wrought upon me to change my opinions or my politi- cal conduct. I hope I anr above A"iolat- ing my i)rinciples, even under the smart of injury and false imputations. Un- just suspicions and undeserved reproach, whatever jtain I may experience from them, will not induce me, 1 tiust, to overstep the limits of constitutional duty, or to encroach on the rights of others. The domestic slavery of the Southern States I leave where I find it, — in the hands of their own govern- ments. It is their alYair, not mine. Nor do I complain of the peculiar eti'ect which the magnitude of that population has had in the distribution of power luider this Federal government. "\\'e know. Sir, that the representation of the States in the other house is not equal. We know that great advantage in that respect is enjoyed by the slave- holding States; and we know, too, that the intended equivalent for that advar.- tage, that is to say, the imposition of direct taxes in the same ratio, hiis be- come merely nominal, the liabit of the 23 i THE REPLY TO IL:VYXE. government being almost invariably to collect its revenue from other sources and in other modes. Nevertheless, I do not complain; nor would I counter- nance any movement to alter this ar- rangement of representation. It is the original bargain, the compact ; let it stand ; let the advantage of it be f uUy enjoyed. The Union itself is too full of benefit to be hazarded in propositions for changing its original basis. I go for the Constitution as it is, and for the Union as it is. But I am resolved not to submit in silence to accusations, either against myself individually or against the North, ^vllolly unfounded and un- just, — accusations which impute to us a disposition to evade the cou.stitutional compact, and to extend the power of the government over the internal laws and domestic condition of the States. All such accusations, wherever and whenever made, all insinuations of the existence of any such pm^poses, I know and feel to be groundless and injurious. And we must confide in Southern gentlemen them- selves ; we must trust to those whose in- tegrity of heart and magnanimity of feel- inji' will lead them to a desire to maintain and disseminate truth, and who possess the means of its diffusion with the Southern public; we must leave it to them to disabuse tliat public of its prej- udices. But in the mean tune, for my oyni part, I shall continue to act justly, wliether those towards whom justice is exercised receive it with candor or with contumely. Having had occasion to recur to the Ordinance of 1787, in order to defend myself against the inferences which the honorable member has chosen to draw from my former observations on that eubject, 1 am not willing now entirely to take leave of it without another re- mark. It need hardly be said, that that paper exprcs.ses just sentiments on the gieat subject of civil and religious liberty. Such sentiments were com- mon, and abound in all our state papers of that day. But this Ordinance did that which was not so common, and wiiicli is not even now universal; that is, it set forth and declared it to be a high and binding duty of government itself to support schools and advance the means of education, on the plain reason that religion, moralit}", and knowledge are necessarj' to good government, and to the happiness of mankind. One observa- tion fiu'ther. The important provision incoii)orated into the Constitution of the United States, and into .several of those of the States, and recently, as Me have seen, adopted into the reformed consti tution of Virginia, restraining legisla- tive power in (questions of private right, and from impairing the obligation of contracts, is first introduced and estab- lished, as far as I am informed, as matter of express written constitutional law, in this Ordinance of 1787. And I must add, also, in regard to the author of the Ordinance, who has not had the happi- ness to attract the gentleman's notice heretofore, nor to avoid his sarcasm now, that he was chairman of that select com- mittee of the old Congress, whose report first expressed the strong sense of that body, that the old Confederation was not adequate to the exigencies of the country, and recommended to the States to send delegates to the convention which formed the present Constitution. An attempt has been made to transfer from the North to the South the honor of this exclusion of slavery from the Northwestern Territory. The journal, without argument or comment, refutes such attempts. The cession by Virginia was made in March, 178-1. On the llrth of April following, a committee, consist- ing of Messrs. Jefferson, Chase, and Ilowell, reported a plan for a temporai-y government of the territoiy, in which was this article: "That, after tiie year 1800, there shall be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude in any of the said States, otherwiise than in punishment of crimes, whereof the party shall have been convicted." Mr. Spaight of North Caro- lina moved to strike out this paragiaph. The question was put, according to the form then practised, " Shall these words stantl as a part of the plan? " New Hampshire, ^Massachusetts, Rhode Isl- and, Connecticut, New York, New Jer- sey, aud Pennsylvania, seven Stales, THE REPLY TO H^\,YNE. 235 voted in the affirmative; Maryland, Vir- ginia, and South Carolina, in tlie nega- tive. North Carolina was divided. As the consent of nine States was necessary, the words could not stand, and were struck out accordingly. Mr. Jefferson voted for the clause, but was overruled by his colleagues. In March of the next year (1785), 'Mr. King of Massachusetts, seconded by ^Ir. Ellery of llhode Island, proposed the fonuerly rejected article, with this addi- tion : ' ' And that this regulation shall be an article of compact, and remain a fundamental principle of the constitu- tions between the thirteen original States, and each of the States described in the resolve." On this clause, which provided the adequate and thorough security, the eight Northern States at that time voted affirmatively, and the four Southern States negatively. The votes of nine States were not yet obtained, and thus the provision was again rejected by the Southern States. The persever- ance of the North held out, and two years afterwards the object was attained. It is no derogation from the credit, what- ever that may be, of drawing the Ordi- nance, that its principles had before been prepared and discussed, in the form of i"esolutions. If one should reason in that way, what would become of the dis- tinguished honor of the author of the Declaration of Independence? There is not a sentiment in that paper which had not been voted and resolved in the as- semblies, and other pofiular bodies in the country, over and over again. But the honorable member has now found out that this gentleman, ^Ir. Dane, was a member of the Hartford Conven- tion. However uninformed the honor- able member may be of characters and occurrences at the North, it would seem that he has at his elbow, on this occa- sion, some high-minded and lofty spirit, some magnanimous and true-hearted monitor, possessing the means of local knowledge, and ready to supply the honorable member with every thing, down even to forgotten and moth-eateu two-penny pamphlets, which may be used to the disadvantage of his own country. But as to the Hartford Con- vention, Sir, allow me to say, that the proceedings of that body seem now to be less read and studied in New England than farther South. They appear to be looked to, not in New England, but elsewhere, for the purpose of seeing how far they may serve as a precedent. But they will not answer the purpose, they are quite too tame. The latitude in which they originated was too cold. Other conventions, of more recent exist- ence, have gone a whole bar's length beyond it. The learned doctors of Colle- ton and Abbeville have pushed their commentaries on the Hartford collect so far, that the original text-writers are thrown entirely into the shade. I have nothing to do. Sir, with the Hartford Convention. Its journal, which the gen- tleman has quoted, I never read. So far as the honorable member may discover in its proceedings a spirit in any degree resembling that which was avowed and justified in those other conventions to which I have alluded, or so far as those proceedings can be shown to be disloyal to the Constitution, or tending to dis- union, so far I shall be as ready as any one to bestow on them reprehension and censure. Having dwelt long on this convention, and other occurrences of that day, in the hope, probably, (which will not be grati- fied,) that I should leave the course of this debate to follow him at length in those excursions, the honorable member returned, and attempted another object. He referred to a speech of mine in the other house, the same which I had occa- sion to allude to myself, the other day; and has (juoted a passage or two fi'om it, with a bold, though uneasy and labor- ing, air of confidence, as if he had de- tected in me an inconsistency. Judging from the gentleman's manner, a stranger to the course of the debate and to the jwint in discussion would have imagined, from so triumphant a tone, that the hon- orable member was about to overwhelm me with a manifest contradiction. Any one who heard him, and who had not heard what I had, in fact, previously said, must have thought me routed and 236 THE REPLY TO IIAYNE. discomfited, as the gentleman had prom- ised. Sir, a breath blows all this triumph away. There is not the slightest differ- ence in the purport of my remarks on the two occasions. What I said here on "Wednesday is in exact accordance with the opinion expressed by me in the other house in 1825. Though the gentleman had the metaphysics of Hudibras, though he were able " to sever and divide A hair 'twixt north and northwest side," he yet could not insert his metaphysical scissors between the fair reading of my remarks in 1825, and what I said here last week. There is not only no contra- diction, no difference, but, in truth, too exact a similarity, both in thought and language, to be entirely in just taste. I had myself quoted the same speech ; had recurred to it, and spoke with it open before me ; and much of what I said was little more than a repetition from it. In order to make finishing work with this alleged contradiction, permit me to recur to the origin of this debate, and review its course. This seems expedi- ent, and may be done as well now as at any time. Well, then, its history is this. The honorable member from Connecticut moved a resolution, which constitutes the first brancii of that which is now be- fore us; that is to say, a resolution, in- structing the committee on public lands to inquire into the expediency of limit- ing, for a certain period, the sales of the public lands, to such as have heretofore been offered for sale ; and whether sun- dry offices connected with the sales of the lands might not be abolished with- out detriment to the public service. In the progress of the discussion which arose on this resolution, an honorable member from New Hampshire moved to amend the resolution, so as entirely to reverse its object; that is, to strike it all out, and insert a direction to the com- mittee to inquire into the expediency of adojiting measures to hasten the sales, and extend more rapidly the suiveys, of the lands. The honorable member from Maine* 1 Mr. Spnigue. suggested that both those propositions might well enough go for consideiation to the committee; and in this state of the question, the member from South Carolina addressed the Senate in his first speech. He rose, he said, to give us his own free thoughts on the ptiblic lands. I saw him rise with pleasure, and listened with exjiectation, thoiigh before he concluded I was filled with surjjrise. Certainly, I was never more surprised, than to find him following up, to the extent he did, the sentiments and opinions which the gentleman from Missouri had put forth, and which it is known he has long entertained. I need not repeat at large the general topics of the honorable gentleman's speech. When he said yesterday that he did not attack the Eastern States, he certainly must have forgotten, not only particular remarks, but the whole drift and tenor of his speech ; unless he means by not attacking, that he did not com- mence hostilities, but that another had preceded him in the attack. He, in the first place, disapproved of the whole course of the government, for forty years, in regard to its disposition of the public lands; and then, turning north- ward and eastward, and fancying he had found a cause for alleged narrowness and niggardliness in the " accursed pol- icy " of the tariff, to which he repre- sented the people of New England as wedded, he went on for a full hour with remarks, the whole scope of which was to exhibit the results of this policy, in feelings and in measures unfavorable to the West. I thought his opinions un- founded and erroneous, as to the gener;il course of the government, and ventured to reply to them. Tlie gentleman had remarked on the analog^' of other cases, and quoted the conduct of Eurojiean governments to- wards their own subjects settling on this continent, as in point, to show that we had been harsh and rigid in selling, when we should have given the public lands to settlers without price. I thought the honorable member had suffered his judg- ment to be betravod bv a false analogv; that he was struck with an appearance THE REPLY TO IIAYNE. 2G7 of resemlilance where there was no real Bimilitude. I think so still. The first settlers of North America were enter- prising spirits, engaged in private ad- venture, or fleeing from tyranny at home. When arrived here, they were forgotten by tlie mother country, or re- membered only to be oppressed. Car- ried away again by tlie appearance of analogy, or struck with the eloquence of the piissage, the honorable member yes- terday obser\'ed, that the conduct of government towards the Western emi- grants, or my representation of it, brought to his mind a celebrated speech in the British Tarliament. It was. Sir, the speech of Colonel Barre. On the question of the stamp act, or tea tax, I forget which. Colonel Barre had heard a member on the treasury bench argue, that the people of the United States, be- ing British colonists, planted by the ma- ternal care, nourished by the indulgence, and protected by the arms of England, would not grudge their mite to relieve the mother country from the heavy bur- den under which she groaned. The language of Colonel Barre, in reply to this, was: " They planted by your care? Tour oppression planted tliem in Amer- ica. They fled from your tyranny, and grew by your neglect of them. So soon as you began to care for them, you showed your care by sending persons to spy out their liberties, misrepresent their character, prey upon them, and eat out their substance." And how does the honorable gentle- man mean to maintain, that language like this is applicable to the conduct of Ihe government of the United States tow irds the Western emigrants, or to any representation given by me of that conduct? AVere the settlers in the West driven thither by our oppression? Have they flourished only by our neglect of them? Has the government done noth- ing but prey upon them, and eat out their substance? Sir, this fervid elo- quence of the British speaker, just when and where it was uttered, and fit to re- main an exercise for the schools, is not a little out of place, when it is brought thence to be applied here to the conduct of our own country towards her own cit- izens. From America to England, it may be true; from Americans to their own government, it would be strange language. Let us leave it, to be recited and declaimed by our boys against a for- eign nation; not introduce it here, to recite and declaim ourselves against our own. But I come to the i)oint of the al- leged contradiction. In my icmarks on Wednesday, I contended that we could not give away gratuitously all the public lands ; that we held them in trust ; that the government had solemnly pledged itself to dispose of tliem as a common fund for the common benefit, and to sell and settle them as its discretion should dictate. Now, Sir, what contradiction does the gentleman find to this senti- ment in the sj^ech of 1825? lie quotes me as having then said, that we ought not to hug these lands as a very great treasure. Very well, Sir, supposing me to be accurately reported in that expres- sion, what is the contradiction? I have not now said, that we should hug these lands as a favorite source of pecuniai-y income. No such thing. It is not my view. "\Miat I have said, and what I do say, is, that they are a common fund, to be disposed of for the common benefit, to be sold at low prices for the accom- modation of settlers, keeping the object of settling the lands as much in view as that of raising money from them. This I say now, and this I have always said Is this hugging them as a favorite treas- lu'e? Is there no difference bet^veen hugging and hoarding this fund, on the one hand, as a great treasure, and, on the other, of disposing of it at low prices, placing the proceeds in the general treas- ury of the Union? My opinion is, that as much is to be made of the land as fairly and reasonably may be, selling it all the while at such rates as to give the fullest effect to settlement. This is not giving it all away to the States, as the gentleman would propose ; nor is it hug- ging the fund closely and tenaciously, as a favorite treasure; but it is, in my judgment, a just and wise policy, per- fectly according with all the various du- 23S THE REPLY TO HAYNE. ties -nliich rest on government. So much for my contradiction. And what is it? Where is the gi-ound of the gentleman's triumph? What inconsistency in word or doctrine has he been able to detect? Sir, if this be a sample of that discom- fiture -with which the honorable gentle- man threatened me, commend me to the word discomjiture for the rest of my life. But, after all, this is not the point of the debate; and I must now bring the gentleman back to what is the point. The real question between me and him is, lias the doctrine been advanced at the South or the East, that the popula- tion of the West should be retarded, or at least need not be hastened, on ac- count of its effect to drain off the people from the Atlantic States? Is this doc- trine, as has been alleged, of Eastern origin? That is the question. Has the gentleman found any thing by which he can make good his accusation? I sub- mit to the Senate, that he has entirely failed; and, as far as this debate has shown, the only person who has ad- vanced such sentiments is a gentleman from South Carolina, and a friend of the honorable member himseH. The hon- orable gentleman has given no answer to this; there is none which can be given. The simple fact, while it requires no comment to enforce it, defies all argu- ment to refute it. I could refer to the speeches of another Southern gentle- man, in years before, of the same gen- eral character, and to the same effect, as that which has been quoted; but I will not consume the time of the Senate by the reading of them. So then, Sir, Xew England is guiltless of the policy of retarding Western popu- lation, and of all envy and jealousy of the growth of the new States. What- ever there be of that policy in the coun- try, no part of it is hers. If it has a local habitation, the honorable member has probably seen by tliis time where to look for it; and if it now has received a name, he has liimself christened it. We approach, at length, Sir, to a more important part of the honorable gentle- man's observations. Since it does not accord with my views of justice and policy to give away the public lands altogether, as a mere matter of gratuity, I am asked by the honorable gentleman on what ground it is that I consent to vote them away in particular instances. How, he inquires, do I reconcile with these professed sentiments, my supfKjrt of measures appropriating portions of the lands to particular roads, particular canals, particular rivers, and particular institutions of education in the West? This leads. Sir, to the real and wide dif- ference in political opinion between the honorable gentleman and myself. On my part, I look upon all these objects as connected with the common good, fairly embraced in its object and its terms; he, on the contrars-, deems them all, if good at all, only local good. This is our difference. The interrogatory which he proceeded to put at once explains this difference. "What interest," asks he, "has South Carolina in a canal in Ohio?" Sir, this very question is full of significance. It develops the gentle- man's whole political system; and its answer expoiuids mine. Here we dif- fer. I look upon a road over the Al- leghanies, a canal round the falls of the Ohio, or a canal or railway from the Atlantic to the Western waters, as being an object large and extensive enough to be fairly said to be for the common benefit. The gentleman thinks other- wise, and this is tlie key to his construc- tion of the powers of the government. He may well a.sk what interest has South Carolina in a canal in Ohio. On his system, it is true, she has no interest. On that system, Ohio and Carolina are different governments, and differsnt countries; connected here, it is true, by some slight and ill-defined bond of union, but in all main respects separate and diverse. On that system, Carrlina has no more interest in a canal in Ohio than in Mexico. The gentleman, there- fore, only follows out his own principles; he does no more than arrive at the natu- ral conclusions of his own doctrines; he only announces the true results of that creed which he has adopted himself, and would persuade others to adopt, when he THE REPLY TO HAYNE. 239 thus declares that South Carolina has no interest in a public work in Ohio. Sir, we narrow-minded people of New England do not reason thus. Our notion of things is entirely different. We look ajon the States, not as separated, but as united. We love to dwell on that union, and on the mutual happiness which it has so much promoted, and the common renown which it has so greatly contrib- uted to acquire. In our contemplation, Carolina and Ohio are parts of the same country; States, united under the same general government, having interests, common, associated, intermingled. In whatever is within the proper sphere of the constitutional power of this govern- ment, we look upon the States as one. AVe do not impose geographical limits to our patriotic feeling or regard ; we do not follow rivers and mountains, and lines of latitude, to find boundaries, beyond which public improvements do not ben- efit us. We who come here, as agents and representatives of these narrow- minded and selfish men of New Eng- land, consider ourselves as bound to regard with an equal eye the good of the whole, in whatever is within our powers of legislation. Sir, if a railroad or ca- nal, beginning in South Carolina and ending in South Carolina, appeared to me to be of national importance and national magnitude, believing, as I do, that the power of government extends to the encouragement of works of that description, if I were to stand up here and ask, What interest has Massachu- setts in a railroad in South Carolina? I should not be willing to face my con- stituents. These same narrow-minded men would tell me, that they had sent me to act for the whole country, and that one who possessed too little comprehen- Bion, either of intellect or feeling, one •who was not large enough, both in mind and in heart, to embrace the whole, was not fit to be intnisted with the interest cf any part. Sir, I do not desire to enlarge the powers of the government by unjustifi- able construction, nor to exercise any not within a fair interpretation. But when it is believed that a power does exist, then it is, in my judgment, to be exercised for the general benefit of the whole. So far as respects the exercise of such a power, the States are one. It was the very object of the Constitution to create unity of interests to the extent of the powers of the general government. In war and peace we are one; in com- merce, one; because the authority of the general government reaches to war and peace, and to the regulation of com- merce. I have never seen any more difficulty in erecting light-houses on the lakes, than on the ocean; in improving the harbors of inland seas, than if they were within the ebb and flow of the tide ; or in removing obstructions in the vast streams of the West, more than in any work to facilitate commerce on tlie At- lantic coast. If there be any power for one, there is power also for the other; and they are all and equally for the com- mon good of the country. There are other objects, apparently more local, or the benefit of which is less general, towards which, neverthe- less, I have concurred with others, to give aid by donations of land. It is proposed to construct a road, in or through one of the new States, in which this government possesses large quanti- ties of land. Have the United States no right, or, as a great and untaxed proprietor, are they under no obligation to contribute to an object thus calcu- lated to promote the common good of all the proprietors, themselves included? And even with respect to education, which is the extreme case, let the ques- tion be considered. In the first place, as we have seen, it was made matter of compact with these States, that they should do their part to promote educa- tion. In the next place, our whole sys- tem of land laws proceeds on the idea that education is for the common good; because, in every division, a certain portion is uniformly reserved and ap- propriated for the use of schools. And, finally, have not these new States sin- gularly strong claims, founded on the ground already stated, that the govern- ment is a great untaxed proprietor, in the ownership of the soil? It is a con- 240 THE KErLY TO IIAYNE. Bideration of preat importance, that prob- j ably there is in no part of the country, or of the world, so great call for the means of education, as in these new- States, owing to the vast numbers of persons within those ages in which edu- cation and instruction are usually re- ceived, if received at all. This is the natural consequence of recency of settle- ment and rapid increase. The census of these States shows how great a pro- portion of the whole population occu- pies the classes between infancy and manhood. These are the wide fields, and here is the deep and quick soil for the seeds of knowledge and virtue; and this is the favored season, the very spring-time for sowing tliem. Let them be disseminated without stint. Let them be scattered with a bountiful hand, broadcast. Whatever the government can fairly do towards these objects, in my opinion, ought to be done. These, Sir, are the grounds, suc- cinctly stated, on which my votes for grants of land." for particular objects rest; while I maintain, at the same time, that it is all a common fund, for the common benefit. And reasons like these, I presume, have influenced the votes of otlier gentlemen from New England. Those who have a different view of the powers of the government, of course, come to different conclusions, on these, as on other questions. I ob- served, when speaking on this subject be- fore, that it we looked to any measure, whether for a road, a canal, or any thing else, intended for the improvement of the West, it would be found that, if the New England aijes were struck out of the lists of votes, the Southern noo- would always have rejected the meas- ure. The truth of this has not been denied, and cannot be denied. Li stat- ing this, I thought it just to ascribe it to the constitutional scruples of the South, rather than to any other less favorable or less charitable cause. But no S(X)ner had I done this, than the lion- oiable gentleman asks if I reproach him and liis friends with their constitutional sciiiplos. Sir, I rt'proadi nobody. I stated a fact, and gave the most respect- ful reason for it that occurred to me. The gentleman cannot deny the fact ; he may, if he choose, disclaim the reason. It is not long since I had occasion, in presenting a petition from his own State, to account for its being intrusted to my hands, by saying, that the constitntionaJ opinions of the gentleman and his wor- thy colleague prevented them from sup- porting it. Sir, did I state this as matter of reproach? Far from it. Did I atto\vers of the government in regard to internal affairs. It may not savor too much of self-commendation to remark, that, with this object, I considered the Constitution, its judicial construction, its contenjporaneous exposition, and the whole history of the legislation of Con- gress under it; and I arrived at the conclusion, that government had power to accomplish sundry objects, or aid in their accomplishment, which are now commonly spoken of as Inteunal Im- puovKMENTS. That conclusion. Sir, may have been right, or it may have been wrong. I am not about to argue the grounds of it at large. I say only, that it was adopted and acted on even so early as in 1816. Yes, Mr. Presi- dent, I made up my opinion, and deter- mined on my intended course of political conduct, on these subjects, in the Four- teenth Congress, in 1816. And now, Mr. President, I have further to say, that I made up these opinions, and en- tered on this course of political conduct, Teucro duce.^ Yes, Sir, I pursued in all this a South Carolina track on the doc- trines of internal improvement. South Carolina, as she was then represented in the other house, set forth in 1816 under a fresh and leading breeze, and I was among the followers. But if my leader sees new lights and turns a sharp cor- ner, unless I see new lights also, I keep straight on in the same path. I repeat, that leading gentlemen from South Caro- lina were first and foremost in behalf of the doctrines of internal improvements, when those doctrines came first to be considered and acted upon in Congress. The debate on the bank question, on the tariff of 1816, and on the direct tax, will show who was who, and what was what, at that time. The tariff of 1816, (one of the plain ^- Mr. Calhoun, when this speech was made, was I'resitlent of the Senate, and Vice-Presi- dent of the United States. cases of oppression and usurpation, from which, if the government does not re- cede, individual States may justly secede from the government,) is, Sir, in truth, a South Carolina tariff, supported by South Carolina votes. But for those votes, it could not have passed in the form in which it did pass; whereas, if it had depended on Massachusetts votes, it would have been lost. Does not tlie honorable gentleman well know all this? There are certainly those who do, full well, know it all. I do not say this to reproach South Carolina. 1 only state the fact; and I think it will appear to be true, that among the earliest and boldest advocates of the tariff, as a measure of protection, and on the ex- press ground of protection, were leading gentlemen of South Carolina in Con- gress. I did not then, and cannot now, understand their language in any other sense. While this tariff of 1816 was under discussion in the House of Repre- sentatives, an honorable gentleman from Georgia, now of this house, '^ moved to reduce the proposed duty on cotton. He failed, by four votes. South Carolina giv- ing three votes (enough to have turned the scale) against his motion. The act. Sir, then passed, and received on its passage the support of a majority of the Repre- sentatives of South Carolina present and voting. This act is the first in th(» order of those now denounced as plain usurpations. We see it daily in the list, by the side of those of 1824 and 1828, as a case of manifest oppression, justifying disunion. I put it home to the honorable member from South Caro- lina, that his own State was not only " art and part" in this measure, but the cawta causans. AVithout her aid, this seminal principle of mischief, this root of Upas, could not have been planted. I have already said, and it is true, that this act proceeded on the ground of pro- tection. It interfered directly with exist- ing interests of great value and amount. It cut up the Calcutta cotton trade by the roots; but it passed, nevertheless, and it passed on the principle of pro- tecting manufactures, on the principle » Mr. Forsyth. 244 THE REPLY TO ILVYNE. against free trade, on the principle op- posed to that which lets us alone. Sucu, Mr. President, were the opin- ions of important and leading gentlemen from South Carolina, on the subject of internal improvement, in 1816. I went out of Congress the next year, and, re- turning again in 1823, thought I found South Carolina where I had left her. I really supposed that all things remained as they were, and that the South Caro- lina doctrine of internal improvements would be defended by the same eloquent voices, and the same strong arms, as formerly. In the lapse of these six years, it is true, political associations had assumed a new aspect and new di- visions. A strong party had arisen in the South hostile to the doctrine of in- ternal improvements. Anti-consolida- tion was the flag under which this party fought; and its supporters inveighed against internal improvements, much after the manner in which the honorable gentleman has now inveighed against them, as part and parcel of the system of consolidation. Whether this party arose in South Carolina itself, or in the neighborhood, is more than I know. I tliink the latter. However that may have been, there were those found in South Carolina ready to make war ujwn it, and who did make intrepid war upon it. Names being regarded as things in such controversies, they bestowed on the anti-improvement gentlemen the aj^v pellation of Radicals. Yes, Sir, the appellation of Radicals, as a terra of distinction applicable and applied to those who denied the liberal doctrines of internal improvement, originated, according to the best of my recollection, somewhere between North Carolina and Georgia. Well, Sir, these mischim-ous Radicals were to be put down, and the strong arm of South Carolina was stretched out to put them down. About this time I returned to Congress. The battle with the Radicals had been fought, and our South Carolina cham- pions of the doctrines of internal im- provement had nobly maintained their ground, and were understood to have achieved a victory. We looked upon them as conquerors. They had driven back the enemy with discomfiture, a thing, by the way. Sir, which is not always performed when it is promised. A gentleman to whom I have already referred in this debate had come into Congress, during my absence from it, from South Carolina, and hid brouglit with him a high reputation for ability. He came from a school with which we had been acquainted, et noscitur a sociis. I hold in my hand, Sir, a printed speech of this distinguished gentleman, ^ " Ox Intekn.\l Imphovements," delivered about the period to which I now refer, and printed with a lew introductory re- marks upon consolidation ; in which. Sir, I think he quite consolidated the argu- ments of his opponents, the Radicals, if to crush be to consolidate. I give you a short but significant quotation from these remarks. He is speaking of a pamphlet, then recently publislied, en- titled "Consolidation "; and, having al- luded to the question of renewing the charter of the former Bank of the United States, he says: — " Moreover, in the early history of parties, and when Mr. Crawford advocated a re- newal of the old charter, it was considered a Federal measure ; which internal improve- ment never was, as this author erroneously states. This latter measure originated in tlie administration of Mr. Jefferson, with the appropriation for the Cumberland Road ; and was first proposed, as a system, by Mr. Callioun, and carried through the House of Representatives by a large majority of tlie Republicans, including almost every one of the leading men who carried us tlirough the late war." So, then, internal improvement is not one of the Federal heresies. One para- graph more. Sir: — " The author in question, not content with denouncing as FederaUsts, General Jackson, Mr. Adams, Mr. Callioun, and the majority of the South Carolina delegation in Con gress, modestly extends the denunciation to Mr. Monroe and the whole Repulilican party. Here are his words : ' During the administration of Mr. Monroe much hau passed which the RepubUcan party would 1 Mr. McDuffie. THE REPLY TO HAYNE 24^ be glad to approve if Hiey could ! ! But the principal feature, and that which has chiefly elicited these observations, is the renewal of the System of Interval Improve- ments.' Now this measure was adopted by a vote of 115 to 8G of a Republican Con- gress, and sanctioned by a Hepublican Pres- ident. Who, then, is this autlior, who as- sumes the high prerogative of denouncing, in the name of the Republican party, the Republican administration of the coun- try 1 A denunciation including within its sweep Calhoun, Lowndes, and Cheves, men who will be regarded as the brightest orna nicnts of South Carolina, and the strongest pillars of the Republican party, as long as the late war shall be remembered, and tal- ents and patriotism shall be regarded as the proper objects of the admiration and grati- tude of a free people ! ! " Such are the opinions, Sir, -which were maintained by South Carolina gentle- men, in the House of Representatives, on the subject of internal improvements, vrhen I took my seat there as a memlier from Massachusetts in 1823. But this is not all. We had a bill before us, and passed it in that house, entitled, "An Act to procure the necessary surveys, plans, and estimates upon the subject of roads and canals." It authorized the President to cause surveys and estimates to be made of the routes of such roads and canals as he might deem of national importance in a commercial or military point of view, or for the transportation of the mail, and appropriated thirty thousand dollars out of the treasury to defray the expense. This act, though preliminary in its nature, covered the whole ground. It took for granted the complete power of internal improvement, as far as any of its advocates had ever contended for it. Having passed the other house, the bill came up to the Sen- ate, and was here considered and debat-ed in April, 182i. The honorable member from South Carolina was a member of the Senate at that time. "\Miile the bill was under consideration here, a motion was made to add the following proviso: " Provided, That nothing herein con- tained shall be construed to affirm or admit a power in Congress, on their own authoritv. to make roads or canals within any of the States of the Union." The yeas and nays were taken on this proviso, and the honorable member voted in the negative ! The proviso failed. A motion was then made to add this proviso, viz.: '^'^ Provided, That the faith of the United States is hereby pledged, that no money shall ever be ex- pended for roads or canals, except it shall be among the several States, and in the same proportion as direct taxes are laid and assessed by the provisions of the Constitution." The honorable member voted arjainst thui proviso also, and it failed. The bill was then put on its passage, and the honorable member voted for it, and it passed, and became a law. Now, it strikes me. Sir, that there la no maintaining these votes, but upon the power of internal improvement, in its broadest sense. In truth, these bills for surveys and estimates have always been considered as test questions; they show who is for and who against internal improvement. This law itself went the whole length, and assumed the full and complete power. The gentleman's votes sustained that power, in every form in which the various propositions to amend presented it. He went for the entire and unrestrained autliority, without con- sulting the States, and without agi-eeing to any proportionate distribution. And now suffer me to remind you, Mr. Pres- ident, that it is this very same power, thus sanctioned, in every form, by the gentleman's own opinion, which is so plain and manifest a usurpation, that the State of South Carolina is supposed to be justified in refusing submission to any laws carrying the power into effect. Truly, Sir, is not this a little too hard ? May we not crave some mercy, under favor and protection of the gentleman's own authority ? Admitting that a road, or a canal, must be wTitten down flat usurpation as was ever committed, may we find no mitigation in our respect for his place, and hia vote, as one that knows the law ? Tlie tariff, which South Carolina had an efficient hand in establishing, in 1816, and this asserted power of internal im.- 246 THE TiEPLY TO HAYNE. proveraent, advanced bj her in the same year, and, as we have seen, approved and sanctioned by her Representatives in 1824, — these two measures are the great grounds on which she is now thought to be justified in breaking up the Union, if she sees fit to break it up ! I may now safely say, I think, that we have had the authority of leading and distin^ished gentlemen from South Carolina in support of the doctrine of internal improvement. I repeat, that, up to 1824, I for one followed South Carolina; but when that star, in its as- cension, veered off in an unexpected di- rection, I relied on its light no longer. Here the Vice-President said, " Does the chair understand the gentleman from Mas- sachusetts to say that the person now oc- cupying the chair of the Senate has changed his opinions on tlie subject of internal im- provements ? " From nothing ever said to me. Sir, have I had reason to know of any change in the opinions of the person filling the chair of the Senate. If such change has taken place, I regret it. I speak gener- ally of the State of South Carolina. In- dividuals we know there are who hold opinions favorable to the power. Au application for its exercise, in behalf of a public work in South Carolina itself, is now pending, I believe, in the other house, presented by members from that State. I have thus, Sir, perhaps not without some tediousness of detail, shown, if I am in error on the subject of internal improvement, how, and in what com- pany, I fell into that error. If I am wrong, it is apparent wlio misled me. I go to other remarks of the honor- able member; and I have to conijilain of an oitire misapprehension of wliat I said on the subject of the national debt, though I can hardly perceive how any one could misunderstand me. What I said was, not that I wished to put off the pa}Tnent of the debt, but, on the con- trary, that I had always voted for every measure for its reduction, as uniformly as the gentleman himself. He seems to claim the exclusive merit of a disposi- tion to reduce the public charge. I do not allow it to him. As a debt. I was, I am for paying it. because it is a charge on our finances, and on the industry of the country. But I observed, that I thought I perceived a morbid fervor on that subject, an excessive anxietA- to pay off the debt, not so much because it is a debt simply, as because, while it lasts, it furnishes one objection to disunion. It is, while it continues, a tie of common interest. I did not impute such motives to the honorable member himself, but that there is such a feeling in existence I have not a particle of doubt. The most I said was, that, if one effect of the debt was to strengthen our Union, that effect itself was not regretted by me, however much others might regret it. The gentleman has not seen how to re- ply to this, otherwise than by supposing me to have advanced the doctrine that a national debt is a national blessina:. Others, I must hope, will find much less difficulty in understanding me. I dis- tinctly and pointedly cautioned the hon- orable member not to understand me as expressing an o2>inion favorable to the continuance of the debt. I repeated this caution, and repeated it more than once ; but it was thrown away. On yet another point, I was still more unaccountably misunderstood. The gen- tleman had harangued against " consoli- dation." I told him, in reply, that there was one kind of consolidation to which I was attached, and that was the con- solidation of our Union ; that this was precisely that consolidation to which I feared others were not attached, and that such consolidation was the very end of the Constitution, tlie leading object, as they had informed us them- selves, which its framers had kej t ic view. I turned to their communica- tion, ^ and read their very words, "the consolidation of tlie Union," and ex- piessed my devotion to this sort of con- solidation. I said, in terms, that I wished not in the slightest degree to augment the powers of this government; 1 The letter of tlie Federal Convent! )n to the Congress of the Cont'ederaiion transmit dug the plan of the Coustitutioa. THE REPLY TO HAYNE. 247 that my object was to preserve, not to enlarge; and that by consolidating the Union I understood no more than the strengthening of the Union, and per- petuating it. Having been thus ex- plicit, having thus read from the printed book tlie precise words which I adopted, as expressing my own sentiments, it passes compreliension liow any man could understand me as contending for an extension of the powers of the gov- ernment, or for consolidation in that odious sense in which it means an ac- cumulation, in the federal government, of the powers properly belonging to the States. I repeat, Sir, that, in adopting the sentiment of the framers of the Consti- tution, I read their language audibly, and word for word; and I pointed out the distinction, just as fully as I have now done, between the consolidation of the Union and that other ol)noxious con- solidation which I disclaimed. And yet the honorable member misunderstood me. The gentleman had said that he wished for no fixed revenue, — not a shilling. If by a word he could convert the Capitol into gold, he would not do it. Why all this fear of revenue? Why, Sir, because, as the gentleman told us, it tends to consolidation. Now this can mean neither more nor less than that a common revenue is a common interest, and that all common interests tend to preserve the union of the States. I con- fess I like that tendency; if the gentle- man dislikes it, he is right in deprecat- ing a shilling of fixed revenue. So nuich. Sir, for consolidation. As well as I recollect the course of his remarks, the honorable gentleman next recurred to the subject of the tariff. He did not doubt the word must be of unpleasant sound to me, and proceeded, with an effort neither new nor attended with new success, to involve me and my votes in inconsistency and contradiction. I am happy the honorable gentleman has furnished me an opportunity of a timely remark or two on that subject. I was glad he approached it, for it is a question 1 enter upon without fear from anvbodv. The strenuous toil of the gentleman has been to rai.se an incon- sistency between my dissent to the tariff in bSi-t, and my vote in 1828. It is labor lost. He pays undeserved com- pliment to my speech in 1824; but this is to raise me high, that my fall, as he would have it, in 1828, may be more signal. Sir, there was no fall. Be- tween the ground I stood on in 1824 and that I took in 1828, there was not only no precipice, but no declivity. It was a change of position to meet new circumstances, but on the same level. A plain tale explains the whole matter. In 1816 I had not acquiesced in the tariff, then supported by South Caro- lina. To some parts of it, e.specially, I felt and expiessed great repugnance. I held the same opinions in 1820, at the meeting in Faneuil Hall, to which the gentleman has alluded. I said then, and say now, that, as an original ques- tion, the authority of Congress to ex- ercise the revenue power, with direct reference to the protection of manufac- tures, is a questionable authority, far more questionable, in my judgment, than the power of internal improve- ments. I must confess. Sir, that in one respect some impression has been made on my opinions lately. Mr. Madison's publication has put the power in a very strong light. He has placed it, I must acknowledge, upon grounds of construc- tion and argument which seem impreg- nable. But even if the power were doubtful, on the face of the Constitu- tiou itself, it had been assumed and asserted in the first revenue law ever pas.sed inider that same Constitution and on this ground, as a matter settled by contemporaneous practice, I had refrained from expressing the opinion that the tariff laws transcended consti- tutional limits, as the gentleman sup- poses. What I did say at Faneuil Hall, as far as I now remember, was, that this was originally matter of doubtful construction. The gentleman himself, I suppose, thinks there is no doubt about it, and that the laws are plainly against the Constitution. Mr. Madi- son's letters, already referred to, con- tain, in my judgment, by far the most 248 THE KEPLY TO HAYNE. able exposition extant of this part of i the Constitution, lie has satisfied me, BO far as the practice of the government had left it an open question. With a great majority of the Repre- sentatives of Massachusetts, I voted against the tariff of 182-i. My reasons were then given, and I will not now re- peat them. But, notwithstanding our dissent, the great States of New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Kentucky went for the bill, in almost unbroken column, and it passed. Congress and the Presi- dent sanctioned it, and it became the law of the land. What. then, were we to do? Our only option was. either to fall in with this settled course of public pohcv. and accommodate ourselve.s to it as well as we could, or to embrace the South Carolina doctrine, and talk of nullifying the statute, by State interfer- ence. This last alternative did not suit our principles, and of course we adopted the former. In 1827, the subject came again before Congress, on a proposition to afford some relief to the branch of wool and woollens. We looked upon the sys- tem of protection as being fixed and settled. The law of 182i remained. It had gone into full operation, and, in re- gard to some objects intended by it, per- haps most of them, had produced all its expecteii effects. No man proposed to repeal it; no man attempted to renew the general contest on its principle. But, owing to subsequent and unfore- seen occurrences, the benefit intended by it to wool and woollen fabrics had not been realized. Events not known here when the law passed had taken place, which defeated its object in that particular respect. A measure w\as ac- cord'ugly brought forward to meet this ]u-eciso deficiency, to remedy this par- ticular defect. It was limited to wool and woollens. Was ever any thing more reasonable? If the policy of the tariff laws had become established in princi- ple, as the permanent policy of the gov- ernment, should they not be revised and amended, and made equal, like other laws, as exigencies should arise, or jus- tice require? Because we had doubted about adopting the system, wre we to refuse to cure its manifest detects, after it had been adopted, and when no one attempted its repeal? And this. Sir, is the incon.sistency so much bruitpd. I had voted against the tariff of 1824, but it passed; and in 1827 and 1828 I voted to amend it, in a point essential to the interest of my constituents. Where ia the inconsistency? Could I do other- wise? Sir, does political consistency consist in always giving negative votes* Does it require of a public man to re- fuse to concur in amending laws, be- cause thev passed against his consent? Having voted against the tariff origi- nally, does consistency demand that I should do all in my [X)wer to maintain an unequal tariff", burdensome to my own constituents in many respects, fa- vorable in none? To consistency of that sort, I lay no claim. And there is an- other sort to wiiich I lay as little, and that is, a kind of consistency by which persons feel themselves as much bound to oppose a proposition after it has be- come a law of the land as before. The bill of 1827, limited, as I have said, to the single object in which the tariff of 1824: had manifestly failed in its effect, passed the House of Kejire- sentatives, but was lost here. We had then the act of 1828. I need not recur to the history of a measure so re- cent. Its enemies spiced it with what- soever they thought would render it dis- tasteful; its friends took it, drugged as it was. Vast amounts of property, many millions, had been invested in manufactures, under the inducements of the act of 1824. Events called loudly, as I thought, for further regulation to secure the degree of j^rotection intended by that act. I was disposed to vote for such regulation, and desired nothing more; but certainly was not to be bantered out of my purpose by a threatened augmen- tation of duty on molasses, put into the bill for the avowed purpose of making it obnoxious. The vote may have been right or wrong, wise or unwise; but it is little less than absurd to allege against it an inconsistency with opposition to the foi nier law. THE REPLY TO IIAYNE. 249 Sir. as to the general subject of the taritl, I liave little now to say. Another opportunity may be presented. I re- marked the other (hiy, that tliis policy did not begin with us in New I^igland; and yet, Sir, New England is charged with vehemence as being favorable, or charged with equal vehemence as being unfavorable, to the tariff policy, just as best suits the time, place, and occasion for making some charge against her. The credulity of the public has been put to its extreme capacity of false impres- Bion relative to her conduct in this par- ticular. Through all the South, during tlie late contest, it was New England policy and a New England administra- tion that were afflicting the country with a tariff beyond all endurance ; while on the other side of the Alleghanies even the act of 1828 itself, the very subli- mated essence of oppression, according to Southern opinions, was pronounced to be one of those blessings for which the West was indebted to the " generous South." "With large investments in manufac- turing establishments, and many and various interests connected with and de- pendent on them, it is not to be expected that New England, any more than other portions of the country, will now con- sent to any measure destructive or highly dangerous. The duty of the govern- ment, at the present moment, would seem to be to preserve, not to destroy; to maintain the position which it has as- sumed; and, for one, I shall feel it an indispensable obligation to hold it steady, as far as in my power, to that degree of pi-otection which it has undertaken to bestow. No more of the tariff. Professing to be provoked by what he chose to consider a charge made by me against South Carolina, the honorable member, Mr. President, has taken up a new crusade against New England. Leaving altogether the subject of the public lands, in which his success, per- haps, had been neither distinguished nor satisfactory, and letting go, also, of the topic of the tariff, he sallied forth in a general assault on the opinions, politics, atui parties of New England, as they have been exhibited in the last thirty years. This is natiu'al. The "narrow policy " of the public lands had proved a legal settlement in South Carolina, and was not to l)e removed. The " accursed policy " of the tariff, also, had estab- lished the fact of its birth and parentage in the same State. No wonder, tliere- fore, the gentleman wished to cany the war, as he expressed it, into the enemy's country. Prudently willing to quit lliese subjects, he was, doubtless, desirous of fastening on others, which could not be transferred south of Mason and Dixon'." line. The politics of New England be- came his theme; and it was in this part of his speech, I think, that he menaced me with such sore discomfiture. Dis- comfiture! Why, Sir, when he attacks any thing which I maintain, and over- throws it, when he turns the right or left of any position which I take up, when he drives me from any ground I choose to occupy, he may then talk of discomfiture, but not till that distant day. What has he done ? Has he main- tained his own charges ? Has he proved what he alleged ? Has he sustained him- self in his attack on the government, and on the history of the North, in the matter of the public lands? Has he dis- proved a fact, refuted a proposition, weakened an argument, maintained by me ? Has he come within beat of drum of any position of mine ? O, no; but he has "carried the war into the enemy's country " ! Carried the war into the ene- my's country ! Yes, Sir, and what sort of a war has he made of it ? Why, Sir, he has stretchetl a drag-net over the whole surface of perished pamphlets, indiscreet sermons, frothy paragi'aphs, and fuming popular addresses, — over whatever the pulpit in its moments of alarm, the press in its heats, and parties in their extravagance, have severally thrown off in times of general excitement and vio- lence. He has thus swept together a mass of such things as, but that they are now old and cold, the public heal^Ji would have required him rather to leave in their state of dispersion. For a good long hour or two, we had the unbroken pleasure of listening to the honorable member, while he recited with his usual 250 THE REPLY TO HAYXE. gfrace and spirit, and with evident high gusto, speeches, pamphlets, addresses, and all the et cceleras of the political press, such as warm heads produce in warm times; and such as it would be "discomfiture" indeed for any one, whose taste did not delight in that sort of reading, to be obliged to peruse. This is his war. This it is to carry war into the enemy's country. It is in an inva- sion of this sort, that he flatters himself with the expectation of gaining laurels fit to adorn a Senator's brow! Mr. President, I shall not, it will not, r trust, be expected that I should, either now or at any time , separate this farrago into parts, and answer and examine its components. I shall barely bestow upon it all a general remark or two. In the run of forty years. Sir, under this Con- stitution, we have experienced sundry successive violent party contests. Party arose, indeed, with the Constitution it- self, and, in some form or other, has at- tended it through the greater part of its histoiy. AVhether any other constitu- tion than the old Articles of Confedera- tion was desirable, was itself a ques- tion on which parties divided; if a new constitution were framed, what powers should be given to it was another ques- tion ; and when it had been formed, what was. in fact, the just extent of the pow- ers actually conferred was a third. Par- ties, as we know, existed under the first administration, as distinctly marked as those which have manifested themselves at any .subsequent period. The con- te.st immediately preceding the political change in 1801, and that, again, which existed at the commencement of the late war, are other instances of party excite- ment, of something more than usual strength and intensity. In all these conflicts there was, no doubt, nnich of violence on both and all sides. It would be impo-ssible, if one had a fancy for such employment, to adjust the relative quan- tiitn of violence between these contend- ing parties. There was enough in eacli, as must always be expected in popular governments. With a great deal of }x)p- ular and d?corous discussion, there was mingled a great deal, also, of declama- tion, virulence, crimination, and abuse. In regard to any party, probably, at one of the leading epochs in the history of parties, enough may be found to make out another inflamed exhibition, not un- like that with which the honorable mem- ber has edified us. For myself, Sir, I shall not rake among the rubbish of by- gone times, to see what I can find, or whether I cannot find something by which I can fix a blot on the escutcheon of any State, any party, or any part of the country. General Washington's ad ministration was steadily and zealously maintained, as we all know, by New England. It was violently opposed else- where. We know in what quarter ho had the most earnest, constant, and per- severing support, in all his great and leading measures. AVe know where his private and personal cliaracter was held in the highest degree of attachment and veneration; and we know, too, where his measures were opposed, his services slighted, and his character vilified. We know, or we might know, if we turned to the journals, who expressed respect, gratitude, and regret, when he retired from the chief magistracy, and who re- fused to express either respect, grat tude, or regret. I shall not open those journals. Publications more abusive or scurrilous never saw the light, than were sent forth against Washington, and all liis leading measures, from presses south of New England. But I shall not look them up. I employ no scavengers, no one is in attendance on me, furnishing such means of retaliation; and if there were, with an ass's load of them, with a bulk as huge as that which the gentle- man himself has produced, I would not touch one of them. I see enough of the violence of our own times, to be no way anxious to rescue from forgetfulness the extravagances of times past. Besides, what is all this to the present purpose ? It has nothing to do with the public lands, in regard to which the at- tack wa,s begun; and it has nothing to do with those sentiments and o}>iuion3 which, I have thought, tend to disunion and all of which the honorable member seems to have adopted liimself, and un- THE REPLY TO IIAYNE. 251 aertaken to defend. New England has, at times, so argues the gentleman, held opinions as dangerous as those which he now holds. Suppose this were so; why should he tlierefore abuse New England ? If he finds himself countenanced by acts of hers, how is it that, while he relies on these acts, he covers, or seeks to cover, tlieir authors with reproach? But, Sir, if, in the course of forty years, there have been undue effervescences of party in New England, has the same tiling happened nowhere else ? Party animos- ity and party outrage, not in Xesv Eng- hind, but elsewhere, denounced President Washington, not only as a Federalist, but as a Tory, a British agent, a man who, in his high office, sanctioned cor- ruption. But does the honorable mem- ber suppose, if I had a tender here who should put such an effusion of wicked- ness and folly into my hand, tliat I would stand up and read it against the South ? Parties ran into great heats again in 1799 and 1800. What was said, Sir, or rather what was not said, in those years, against .lohn Adams, one of the com- mittee that drafted the Declaration of Independence, and its admitted ablest defender on the floor of Congress ? If the gentleman wishes to increase his stores of party abuse and frothy vio- lence, if he has a determined proclivity to such pursuits, there are treasures of that sort south of the Potomac, much to his taste, yet untouched. I shall not touch them. The parties which divided the country at the commencement of the late war were violent. But then there was vio- lence on both sides, and violence in every State. Minorities and majorities were equally violent. There was no more violence against the w^ar in Xew England, than in other States; nor any more appearance of violence, except that, owing to a dense population, greater fa- cility of assembling, and more presses, there may have been more in quantity spoken and printed there than in some other places. In the article of sermons, too, Xew England is somewhat more abundant than South Carolina ; and for that reason the chance of finding here and there an exceptionable one may 1)9 greater. I hope, too, there are morf good ones. Opposition may have been more formidable in New England, as it embraced a larger portion of the whole population; but it was no more unre- strained in principle, or violent in man- ner. The minorities dealt quite as harshly with their own State govern- ments as the majorities dealt with tha administration here. There were presses on both sides, popular meetings on both sides, ay, and pulpits on both sides also. The gentleman's purveyors have only catered for him ainong the proiluctions of one side. I certainly shall not supply the deficiency by furnishing samples of the other. I leave to him, and to tliem, the whole concern. It is enough for me to say, that if, in any part of this their grateful occupa- tion, if, in all their researches, they find any thing in the history of ]\Iassachu- setts, or New England, or in the pro- ceedings of any legislative or other pul:)iic body, disloyal to the Union, speaking slightingly of its value, proposing to break it up, or recommending non-intercourse with neighboring States, on account of difference of political opinion, then. Sir, I give them all up to the honorable gen- tleman's unrestrained rebuke; expect- ing, however, that he will extend his buffetings in like manner to all similar proceedings, wherever else found. The gentleman. Sir, has spoken at large of former parties, now no longer in being, by their received appellations, and has imdertaken to instruct us, not only in the knowledge of their principles, but of their respective pedigrees also. He has ascended to their origin, and run out their genealogies. With most ex- emplary modesty, he speaks of the party to which he professes to have himself belonged, as the true Pure, the only honest, patriotic party, derived by regu- lar descent, from father to son, from the time of the virtuous Romans! Spread- ing before us the family tree of political parties, he takes especial care to show himself snugly perched on a popular bough ! He is wakeful to the exi>ediency of adopting such rules of descent iis sliall 252 THE REPLY TO ^AY^^:. bring him in, to the exclusion of others, as an heir to the inheritance of all pub- lic virtue, and all true political principle. His party and his opinions are sure to be orthodox ; heterodoxj' is confined to his ojiponents. He spoke, Sir, of the Fed- eralists, and I thought I saw some eyes begin to open and stare a little, when he ventured on that ground. I expected he would di aw his sketches rather lightly, when he looked on the circle round him, and especially if he should cast his thoughts to the high places out of the Senate. Xevertheless, he went back to Rome, ad annum urbionorable gentleman's cousin, and prove, satisfactorily, tnat he is descended from the same political great-grandfather. All this is allow- able. We all know a process. Sir, by which the whole Essex Junto could, in one hour, be all washed white from their ancient Federalism, and come ont, every one of them, original Democrats, dyed in the wool ! Some of them have actually undergone the operation, and they say it is quite easy. The only inconvenience it occasions, as they tell us, is a slight tendency of the blood to the face, a soft suffusion, which, however, is very tran- sient, since nothing is said by those whom they join calculated to deepen tlie red on the cheek, but a prudent silence is ob- served in regard to all the past. Indeed, Sir, some smiles of approbation have been bestowed, and some crumbs of comfort have fallen, not a thousand miles from the door of the Hartford Convention itself. And if the author of the Ordinance of 1787 possessed the other requisite qualifications, there is no knowing, notwithstanding his Feder- alism, to what heights of favor he might not yet attain. ISIr. President, in carrying his warfare, such as it is, into Xew England, the honorable gentleman all along professes to be acting on the defensive. He chooses to consider me as having as- sailed South Carolina, and insists that he comes forth only as her champion, and in her defence. Sir, I do not admit that I made any attack whatever on South Carolina. Nothing like it. The honorable member, in his first speech, expressed opinions, in regard to revenue and some otlier topics, which I heard both with pain and with surprise. I told the gentleman I was aware tliat such sentiments were entertained out of the government, but had not expected to find them advanced in it; that I knew there were persons in the South who speak of our Union with indifference or doubt, taking pains to magnify its evils, and to say nothing of its benefits; that the honorable member himself, I wa sure, could never be one of these ; and I regretted the expression of such opinions as he had avowed, because I tliought THE REPLY TO HAYNE. 253 tluMr obvious tendency was to encourage feelings of disrespect to the Union, and to impair its strength. This, Sir, is the sum and substance of all I said on tlie subject. And this constitutes the attack •which called on the chivalry of the gen- tleman, in his own opinion, to harry us with such a foray among the party pam- phlets and party proceedings of Massa- chusetts ! If he means that I spoke with dissatisfaction or disrespect of tht ebul- litions of individuals in South Carolina, it is true. But if he means that I as- sailed the character of the State, her honor, or patriotism, tliat I reflected on her history or her conduct, he has not the slightest ground for any such as- sumption. I did not even refer, I think, in my obsei-vations, to any collection of individuals. I said nothing of the re- cent conventions. I spoke in the most guanled and careful manner, and only expressed my regret for the publication of opinions, which I presumed the hon- orable member disapproved as nmch as myself. In this, it seems, I was mis- taken. I do not remember that the gen- tleman has disclaimed any sentiment, or any opinion, of a supposed anti-union tendency, which on all or any of the recent occasions has been expressed. The whole drift of his speech has been rather to prove, that, in divers times and manners, sentiments equally liable to my objection have been avowed in New England. And one would suppose that his object, in this reference to Mas- sachusetts, was to find a precedent to justify proceedings in the South, were it not for the reproach and contumely with which he labors, all along, to load these his own chosen precedents. By way of defending South Carolina from what he chooses to think an attack on her, he first quotes the example of Massachu- setts, and then denounces that example in good set tei-ms. This twofold pur- pose, not very consistent, one would think, with itself, was exhibited more than once in the course of his speech. He referred, for instance, to the llai-t- ford Convention. Did he do this for authority, or for a topic of reproach? Ai^parently for both, for he told us that he should find no fault with the mere fact of holding such a convention, and considering and discussing such ques- tions as he supposes were then and therpi discussed; but what rendered it obnox- ious was its being held at the time, and under the circumstances of the country then existing. We were in a war, he said, and the country needed all Dur aid • the hand of government required to be .strengthened, not weakened; and pa- triotism should have postponed such proceedings to another day. The thing itself, then, is a precedent; the time and manner of it only, a subject of censure. Now, Sir, I go much further, on this point, than the honorable member. Supposing, as the gentleman seems to do, that the Hartford Convention assem- bled for any such purpose as breaking up the Union, becaiuse they thought un- constitutional laws had been passed, or to consult on that subject, or to calculate the value of the Union; supposing this to be theii- purpose, or any part of it, then I say the meeting itself was dis- loyal, and was obnoxious to censure, whether held in time of peace or time of war, or under whatever circum- stances. The material question is the object. Is dissolution the object ? If it be, external circumstances may make it a more or less aggravated case, but cannot affect the principle. I do not hold, therefore. Sir, that the Hartford Convention was pardonable, even to the extent of the gentleman's admission, if its objects were really such as have been imputed to it. Sir, there nevei was a time, under any degree of excite- ment, in which the Hartford Conven- tion, or any other convention, could have maintained itseK one moment in New England, if assembled for any such purpose as the gentleman says would have been an allowable purpose. To hold conventions to decide constitu- tional law! To try the binding validity of statutes by votes in a conveuiiou! Sir, the Hartford Convention, I pre- sume, would not desire that the honor- able gentleman should be their defendei or advocate, if he puts their ca.se upon such untenable and extravagant gi'omida. 2o4 THE REPLY TO HAYNE. Then, Sir, the gentleman has no fault to find with these recently promul- gated South Carolina opinions. And certainly he need have none; for his o^\'n sentiments, as now advanced, and advanced on reflection, as far as I have been able to comprehend them, go the lull length of all these opinions. I pro- pose, Sir, to say something on these, and to consider how far they are just and constitutional. Before doing that, however, let, me observe that the eulo- gium pronounced by the honorable gentleman on the character of the State of South Carolina, for her Revolu- tionary and other merits, meets my hearty concurrence. I shall not ac- knowledge that the honorable member goes before me in regard for whatever of distinguished talent, or distuiguished character, South Carolina has produced. I claim part of the honor, I partake in the pride, of her great names. I claim them for countrymen, one and all, the Laurenses, the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, tlie Sumpters, the Marions, Americans all, whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by State lines, than their talents and patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within the same narrow limits. In their day and gen- eration, they served and honored the country, and the whole countrj'; and their renown is of the treasm-es of the ■whole countrj'. II im whose honored name the gentleman himself bears, — does he esteem me less capable of gi-ati- tude for his patriotism, or sympathy for his sufferings, than if his eyes had first opened upon the light of Massachusetts, instead of South Carolina? Sir, does be suppose it in his power to exliibit a Carolina name so bright as to produce envy in my bosom? No, Sir, increased gratification and delight, rather. I thank God, that, if I am gifted with little of the spirit which is able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as I trust, of that other spirit, which would drag angels down. When I shall be found. Sir, in my place here in the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, because it happens to spring up beyond the little limits of my own State or neighborhood; when I refuse, for any such cause or for any cause, tne homage due to American talent, to elevated patri- otism, to sincere devotion to liberty and the country ; or, if I see an uncommon endo^NTiient of Heaven, if I see extraor- dinary capacity and ^drtue, in any son of the South, and if, moved by local preju- dice or gangrened by State jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair from his just character and just fame, may my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth 1 Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollec- tions; let me indulge in refreshing re- membrance of the past; let me remind you that, in early times, no States cher- ished greater harmony, both of prin- ciple and feeling, than Massachusetts and South Carolina. "Would to God that harmony might again return! Shoulder to shoulder they went tlirough the Revolution, hand in hand they stood round the administration of Washington, and felt his own great arm lean on them for support. Un- kind feeling, if it exist, alienation, and distrust are the growth, unnatmal to such soils, of false principles since so-\vu. They are weeds, the seeds of which that same great arm never scattered. Mr. President, I shall enter on no en- comium upon Massachusetts; she needs none. There she is. Behold her, and judge for yourselves. There is her his- tory; the wcrld knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. There is Bos- ton, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill; and there they will re- main for ever. The bones of her sons, falling in the great struggle for Inde- pendence, now lie mingled with the soil of every State from New England to Georgia; and there they wUl lie for ever. And, Sir, wliere American Liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured and sustained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood and full of its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it, if party strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it, if folly and madness, if uneasi- ness under salutary and necessary re* THE REPLY TO HAYNE. 255 Btraiiit, shall succeed in separating it from that Union, by which alone its existence is made sure, it will stand, in the end, by the side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked; it will stietch forth its arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain over the friends who gather round it; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the proudest monuments of its own glory, and on the very sjKjt of its origin. There yet remains to be performed, Mr. President, by far the most grave and important duty, which I feel to be devolved on me by this occasion. It is to state, and to defend, what I conceive to be the true principles of the Constitu- tion under which we are here assembled. I might well have desired that so weighty a task should have fallen into other and abler hands. I could have wished that it should have been executed by those whose character and experience give weight and influence to their opinions, Buch as cannot possibly belong to mine. But, Sir, I have met the occasion, not sought it; and I shall proceed to state my own sentiments, without challenging for them any particular regard, with studied plainness, and as much precision as possible. I understand the honorable gentleman from South Carolina to maintain, that it is a right of the State legislatures to interfere, whenever, in their judgment, this government transcends its constitu- tional limits, and to arrest the operation of its laws. I understand him to maintain this right, as a right existing under the Con- stitution, not as a right to overthrow it on the ground of extreme necessity, such as would justify violent revolution. I understand him to maintain an au- thority, on the part of the States, thus to interfere, for the purpose of correct- ing the exercise of power by the general government, of checking it, and of com- pelling it to conform to their opinion of the extent of its powers. I understand him to maintain, that the ultimate power of judging of the constitut'onal extent of its :wn author- ity is not lodged exclusively in the gen- eral government, or any branch (rf it; but that, on the contrary, the States may lawfully decide for themselves, and each State for itself, whether, in a givea case, the act of the general government transcends its jx)\ver. I understand him to insist, that, if tb j exigency of the case, in the opinion of any State government, require it, iuch State government may, by its own sov- ereign authority, annul an act of the general government which it deems plainly and palpably unconstitutional. This is the sum of what 1 understand from him to be the South Carolina doc- trine, and the doctrine which he main- tains. I propose to consider it, and compare it with the Constitution. Al- low me to say, as a preliminary i-emark, that I call this the South Carolina doc- trine only because the gentleman him- self has so denominated it. I do not feel at liberty to say that South Caro- lina, as a State, has ever advanced these sentiments. I hope she has not, and never may. That a great majority of her people are opposed to the tariff laws, is doubtless true. That a majority, somewhat less than that just mentioned, conscientiously believe these laws un- constitutional, may probably also be true. But that any majority holds to the right of direct State interference at State discretion, the right of nullifying acts of Congi-ess by acts of State legisla- tion, is more than I know, and what I shall be slow to believe. That there are individuals besides the honorable gentleman who do maintain these opinions, is quite certain. I recol- lect the recent expression of a sentiment, which circumstances attending its utter- ance and publication justify us in sup- posing was not unpremeditated. " The sovereignty of the State, — never to be controlled, construed, or decided on, but by her own feelings of honorable jus- tice." Mr. Hayne here rose and said, that, for the purpose of being clearly understood, he would state that his proposition was in the words of the Virginia resolution, as fot lows : — 1256 THE REPLY TO IIAYNE. " That tliis assembly doth explicitly and peremptorily declare, that it views the pow- ers of the federal government as resulting from the compact to whicli the States are parties, as limited by the plain sense and intention of the instrument constituting that compact, as no farther valid than they are authorized by the grants enumerated in i'>at compact ; and that, in case of a dclib- er..te, palpable, and dangerous exercise of othfc.' powers not granted by the said com- pact, the States who are parties thereto have tiie right, and are in duty bound, to interpose, for arresting tlie progress of the evil, and for maintaining within their re- spective lim fs the authorities, rights, and liberties appeitaining to them." Mr. Webster resumed : — I am quite aware, Mr. Pre.sident, of the existence of the re.solution vihich the gentleman read, and has now repeated, and that he relies on it as his authority. I know the source, too, from which it is understood to have proceeded. I need not say that I have much respect for the constitutional opinions of Mr. Madison; they would weigh greatly with nie al- ways. But before the authoiity of his opinion be vouched for the gentleman's proposition, it will be proper to consider what is the fair interpretation of that resolution, to which Mr. Madison is un- derstood to have given his sanction. As the gentleman construes it, it is an au- thority for him. Possibly he may not have adopted the right construction. 1'hat resolution declares, that, in the case of the dangerous exercise of powers not granted Jnj the general gocermnent, the States may interpose to arrest the progress of the evil. But how interpose, and what does this declaration purport? Does it mean no more than that there may be extreme ca.ses, in which the peo- ple, in any mode of a.ssembling, may resist usurpation, and relieve themselves from a tyrannical government? No one will deny this. Such resistance is not only acknowledged to be just in Amer- ica, but in England also Black.stone admits as nmch, in the theory, and practice, too, of the English constitu- tion. We, Sir, who opjiose the Carolina doctrine, do not deny that the people may, if they choose, throw off any gov- ernment when it becomes oppressive and intolerable, and erect a better in its stead. We all know that civil institu- tions are established for the public bene- fit, and that when they cease to answer the ends of their existence they may be changed. But I do not understand the doctrine now contended for to be that, which, for the sake of distinction, we may call the right of revolution. I un- derstand the gentleman to maintain, that, without revolution, without civil commotion, without rebellion, a remedy for supposed abuse and transgression of the powers of the general government lies in a direct appeal to the interference of the State governments. Mr Hayne here rose and said: He did not contend for the mere right of revo- lution, bat for tlic rigiit of constitutional resistance. What he maintained was, that in case of a plain, palpable violation of the Constitution by the general government, a State may interpose ; and that this inter- position is constitutional. Mr. Webster resumed : — So, Sir. I understood the gentleman, and am happy to find that I did not mis- understand him. What he contends for is, that it is con.stitutional to interrupt the administration of the Con.stitution itself, in the hands of tho.^e who are chosen and sworn to administer it, by the direct interference, in form of law, of the States, in virtue of their sovereign capacity. The inherent right in the peo- ple to reform their government I do not deny; and they have another right, and that is, to resist unconstitutional laws, without overturning the government. It is no doctrine of mine that unconstitu- tional laws bind the people. The great question is, Who.se prerogative is it to decide on the constitutionality or uncon- stitutionality of the laws? On that, the main debate hinges. The proposition, that, in case of a supposed violation of the Constitution by Congress, the States have a constitutional right to interfere and annul the law of Congress, is the proposition of the gentleman. I do not admit it. If the gentleman had in- tended no more than to asser* the right of revolution for justifiable cause, he THE REPLY TO HAYNE. 2o7 would have said only what all agree to. But I cannot conceive that there can be a middle course, between submission to the laws, wlien regularly pronounced constitutional, on the one hand, and open resistance, which is revolution or rebellion, on the other. I say, the right of a State to annul a law of Congress cannot be maintained, but on the ground A the inalienable right of man to resist oppression; that is to say, upon the ground of revolution. I admit that there is an ultimate violent remedy, above the Constitution and in defiance of the Constitution, which may be re- sorted to when a revolution is to be jus- tified. But I do not admit, that, under the Constitution and in conformity with it, there is any mode in which a State government, as a member of the Union, can interfere and stop the progress of the general government, by force of her own laws, under any circumstances what- ever. This leads us to inquire into the origin of this government and the source of its power. Whose agent is it? Is it the creature of the State legislatures, or the creature of the people? If the govern- ment of the United States be the agent of the State governments, then they may control it, provided they can agl^e in the manner of controlling it ; if it be the agent of the people, then the people alone can control it, restrain it, modify, or reform it. It is observable enough, that the doctrine for which the honorable gentle- man contends leads him to the necessity of maintaining, not only that this gen- eral government is the creature of the States, but that it is the creature of each of the States severally, so that each may assert the power for itself of determin- ing whether it acts within the limits of its authority. It is the servant of four- aud-twenty masters, of different wills and different purposes, and yet bound to obey all. This absurdity (for it seems no less) arises from a misconception as to the origin of this government and its true character. It is, Sir, the people's Constitution, the people's government, made for the people, made by the people, and answerable to the people. The peo- ple of the United States have declared that this Constitution shall be the su- preme law. We must either admit the proposition, or dispute their authority. The States are, unquestionably, sover- eign, so far as their sovereignty is not affected by this supreme law. But the State legislatures, as political bodies, however sovereign, are yet not sovereign over the people. So far as the people have given power to the general govern- ment, so far the grant is unquestionably good, and the government holds of the people, and not of the State governments. We are all agents of the same supreme power, the people. The general gov- ernment and the State governments derive their authority from the same source. Neither can, in relation to the other, be called prmiary, though one is definite and restricted, and the other general and residuary. The national government possesses those powers which it can be shown the people have con- ferred on it, and no more. All the rest belongs to tlie State governments, or to the people themselves. So far as the people have restrained State sovereignty, by the expression of their will, in the Constitution of the United States, so far, it must be admitted. State sover- eignty is effectually controlled. I do not contend that it is, or ought to be, controlled farther. The sentiment to which I have referred propounds that State sovereignty is only to be con- trolled by its own "feeling of justice "; that is to say, it is not to be controlled at all, for one who is to follow his own feelings is under no legal control. Now, however men may think this ought to be, the fact is, that the people of the United States have chosen to impose control on State sovereignties. There are those, doubtless, who wish they had been left without restraint ; but the Con- stitution has ordered the matter differ- ently. To make war, for instance, is an exercise of sovereignty; but the Con- stitution declares that no State shall make war. To coin money is another exercise of sovereign power; but no State is at liberty to coin money. Again, the Constitution says that no sovereign 17 258 THE REPLY TO HAYXE. State shall be so sovereign as to make a treaty These prohibitions, it must be confessed, are a control on the State sovereignty of South Carolina, as well as of the other States, which does not arise "from her own feelings of honor- able justice." The opinion referred to, therefore, is in defiance of the plainest provisions of the Constitution. There are other proceedings of public l)odies which have already been alluded to, and to which I refer again for the purpose of ascertaining more fully what is the length and breadth of that doc- trine, denominated the Carolina doc- trine, which the honorable member has now stood up on this floor to maintain. In one of them I find it resolved, that " the tariff of 1828, and eveiy other tariff designed to promote one branch of industry at the expense of others, is contraiy to the meaning and intention of the federal compact ; and such a danger- ous, palpable, and deliberate usurpation of power, by a determined majority, wielding the general government beyond the limits of its delegated powers, as calls upon the States which compose the suffering minority, in their sovereign capacity, to exercise the powers which, as sovereigns, necessarily devolve upon them, when their compact is violated." Observe, Sir, that this resolution holds the tariff of 1828, and every other tariff designed to promote one branch of industry at the expense of another, to be such a dangerous, palpable, and de- liberate usurpation of power, as calls upon the States, in their sovereign ca- pacity, to interfere by their own author- ity. This denunciation, Mr. President, you will please to observe, includes our old tariff of 1816, as well as all others; 'because that was established to promote •the interest of the manufacturers of cot- ton, to the manifest and admitted injury of the Calcutta cotton trade. Observe, again, that all the qualifications are here rehearsed and charged upon the tariff, which are necessary to bring the case within the gentleman's proposition. The tariff is a usurpation; it is a dan- gerous usurpation ; it is a palpable usur- pation; it is a deliberate usurpatiou. It is such a usurpation, therefore, as calls upon the States to exercise theii right of interference. Here is a case, then, within the gentleman's principles, and all his qualifications of his principles. It is a case for action. The Constitution is plainly, dangerously, palpably, and deliberately violated; and the Slates must interpose their own authority to arrest the law. Let us suppose the State of South Carolina to express tliis same opinion, by the voice of her h-gi*- lature. That would be very imposing; but what then? Is the voice of one State conclusive? It so happens that, at the veiy moment when South Caro- lina resolves that the tariff laws are un- constitutional, Pennsylvania and Ken- tucky resolve exactly the reverse. They hold those laws to be both highly proper and strictly constitutional. And now, Sir, how does the honorable member propose to deal with this case ? How does he relieve us from this difficulty, upon any principle of his? His con- struction gets us into it; how does he propose to get us out? In Carolina, the tariff is a palpable, deliberate usurpation; Carolina, there- fore, may nullify it, and refuse to pay the duties. In Pennsylvania, it is both clearly constitutional and highly expe- dient; and there the duties are to be paid. And yet we live under a gov- ernment of uniform laws, and under a Constitution too, which contains an express provision, as it happens, that all duties shall be equal in all the States. Does not this approach absurdity? If there be no power to settle such questions, independent of either of the States, is not the whole Union a rope of sand? Are we not thrown back again, precisely, upon the old Confederation ? It is too plain to be argued. Four- and-twenty interpreters of constitutional law, each with a power to decide for itself, and none with authority to bind anybody else, and this constitutional law the only bond of their union! What is such a state of things but a mere connection dui'ing pleasure, or, to use the phraseology of the times, duv' uKjfeeVuKj? And that feeling, too, not THE REPLY TO HAYNE. 259 tfle feeling of the people, who estab- lislied the Constitution, but the feeling of the State governments. In another of the South Carolina ad- dresses, having premised that the crisis requires " all the concentrated energy of passion," an attitude of open resistance to the laws of the Union is advised. Open resistance to the laws, then, is the eonstitutional remedy, the conservative power of the State, which the South Carolina doctrines teach for the redress of political evils, real or imaginary. Ai d its authors further say, tliat, ap- pealing with confidence to the Consti- tution itself, to justify their opinions, they cannot consent to try their accuracy by the courts of justice. In one sense, indeed. Sir, this is assuming an atti- tude of open resistance in favor of lib- erty. But what sort of liberty? The liberty of establishing their own opin- ions, in defiance of the opinions of all others; the liberty of judging and of deciding exclusively themselves, in a matter in which others have as much right to judge and decide as they ; the liberty of placing their own opinions above the judgment of all others, above the laws, and above the Constitution. This is their liberty, and this is the fair result of the proposition contended for by the honorable gentleman. Or, it may be more properly said, it is identi- cal with it, rather than a result from it. In the same publication we find the following: "Previously to our Revolu- tion, when the arm of oppression was stretched over Xew England, where did our Xorthern brethren meet with a braver sympathy than that which sprung from the bosoms of Carolinians? We had no extortion, no oppression, no collision with the king's ministers, no naviga- tion interests springing up, in envious rivalry of England." This seems extraordinary language. South Carolina no collision with the king's ministers in 1775! No extor- tion! Xo oppression! But, Sir, it is also most significant language. Does any man doubt the purpose for which it was penned? Can any one fail to see that it was designed to raise iu the read- I er's mind the question, whether, at this time, — that is to say, in 1828,— South Carolina has any collision with the king's ministers, any oppression, or extortion, to fear from England? whether, in short, England is not as naturally the friend of South Carolina as New Eng- land, with her navigation interests springing up iu envious rivalry of Eng- land? Is it not strange, Sir, that an intelli- gent man in South Carolina, in 1828, should thus labor to prove that, in 1775, there was no hostility, no cause of war, between South Carolina and England? That she had no occasion, in reference to her own interest, or from a regard to her own welfare, to take up arms in the Revolutionary contest? Can any one account for the expression of such strange sentiments, and their circulation through the State, otherwise than by supposing the object to be what I have akeady in- timated, to raise the question, if they had no '^ collision'^ (mark the expres- sion) with the ministers of King George the Third, in 1775, what collision have they, in 1828, with the ministers of King George the Fourth? What is there now, in the existing state of things, to sepa- rate Carolina from Old, more, or rather, than from New England? Resolutions, Sir, have been recently passed by the legislature of South Car- olina. I need not refer to them; they go no farther than the honorable gentle- man himself has gone, and I hope not so far. I content myself, therefore, with debating the matter with him. And now. Sir, what I have first to say on this subject is, that at no time, and under no circumstances, has Xew Enjr- land, or any State in Xew England, or any respectable body of persons in New England, or any public man of stand- ing in Xew England, put forth such a doctrine as this Carolina doctrine. The gentleman has found no case, he can find none, to support his own opin- ions by Xew England authority. Xew England has studied the Constitution in other schools, and under other teachers. She looks upon it with other regards, and deems more highly and reverently 260 THE REPLY TO HATNE. both of its just authority and its utility and excellence. The history of her legis- lative proceedings may be traced. The ephemeral effusions of temporary' bodies, called together bv the excitement of the occasion, may be hunted up; they have been hunted up. The opinions and votes of her public men, in and out of Congress, may be explored. It will all be in vain. The Carolina doctrine can derive from her neither countenance nor support. She rejects it now ; she always did reject it; and till she loses her senses, she always will reject it. The honor- able member has referred to expressions on the subject of the embargo law, made in this place, by an honorable and ven- erable gentleman, 1 now favoring us with his presence. He quotes that distin- guished Senator as saying, that, in his judgment, the embargo law was unconsti- tutional, and that therefore, in his opin- ion, the people were not bound to obey it. That, Sir, is perfectly constitutional lansruasre. An unconstitutional law is not binding ; but then it does not rest with a resolution or a law of a Slate legislature to decide whether an act of Congress he or be not constitutional. An unconstitu- tional act of Congress would not bind the people of this District, although they have no legislature to interfere in their behalf; and, on the other hand, a con- stitutional law of Congress does bind the citizens of every State, although all their legislatures should undertake to annul it by act or resolution. The ven- erable Connecticut Senator is a consti- tutional lawyer, of sound principles and enlarged knowledge; a statesman prac- tised and experienced, bred in the com- pany of AVashington, and holding just views upon the nature of our govern- ments. He believed the embargo un- constitutional, and so did others; but what then? "Who did he suppose was to decide that question? The State leg- islatures? Certainly not. Ko such sen- timent ever escaped his lips. Let us follow up. Sir, this New Eng- land opposition to the embargo laws; let us trace it, till we discern the princi- ple which controlled and governed New 1 Mr. Hillhouse, of Connecticut England throughout the whole course of that opposition. We shall then see what similarity there is between the New England school of constitutional opinions, and this modern Carolina school. The gentleman, I think, read a petition from some single individual addressed to the legislature of Massachu- setts, asserting the Carolina doctrine; that is, the right of State interferenco to arrest the laws of the Union. 'J'lio fate of that petition shows the seati- ment of the legislature. It met nc favor. The oi^inions of ^lassachusetts were very different. They had been ex- pressed in 1798, in answer to the reso- lutions of Virginia, and she did not dejiart from them, nor bend them to the times. Misgoverned, wronged, op- pressed, as she felt herself to be, she still held fast her integrity to the Union. The gentleman may find in her proceed- ings much evidence of dissatisfaction with the measures of government, and great and deep dislike to the embargo; all this makes the case so much the stronger for her; for, notwithstanding all tliis dissatisfaction and dislike, she still claimed no right to sever the bonds of the Union. There was heat, and there was anger in her political feeling. Be it so ; but neither her heat nor her anger betrayed her into infidelity to the government. The gentleman labors to prove that she disliked the embargo as much as South Carolina dislikes the tariff, and expressed her dislike as strongly. Be it so ; but did she propose the Carolina remedy? did she threaten to interfere, by State authority, to annul the laws of the Union? That is the question for the gentleman's consi ier- ation. No doubt. Sir. a great majority of :ho people of New Knghind conscientiously believed the embargo law of 1807 uncon- stitutional; as conscientiously, certainly, as the people of South Carolina hold that opinion of the tariff. Tliey reasoned thus: Congress has power to regulate commerce ; but here is a law, they said, stopping all commerce, and stopping it indefinitely. The law is perpetual ; that is, it is not limited in poiut of time, and THE REPLY TO HAYNE. 261 must ot course continue until it shall be repealed by some other law. It is as perpetual, therefore, as the law against treason or murder. Now, is this regu- lating commerce, or destroying it? Is it guiding, controlling, giving the rule to commerce, as a subsisting thing or is it putting an end to it altogether? Xothing is more certain, than th'at a majority in New England deemed this laM" a violation of the Constitution. The verj^ case required by the gentle- man to justify State interference had then arisen. Massachusetts believed this law to be " a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of a power not granted by the Constitution." Delib- erate it was, for it was long continued; palpable she thought it, as no words in the Constitution gave the power, and only a construction, in her opinion most violent, raised it; dangerous it was, since it threatened utter ruin to her most im- portant interests. Here, then, was a Carolina case. How did ^lassachusetts deal with it? It was, as she thought, a plain, manifest, palpable violation of the Constitution, and it brought ruin to her doors. Thousands of families, and hundreds of thousands of individuals, were beggared by it. While she saw and felt all this, she saw and felt also, that, as a measure of national policy, it was perfectly futile; that the countiy was no way benefited by that which caused so much individual distress ; that it was efficient only for the production of evil, and all that evil inflicted on ourselves. In such a case, under such circumstances, how did Massachusetts demean herself? Sir, she remonstrated, she memorialized, she addressed herself to the general government, not exactly " with the concentrated energy of pas- sion," but with her own strong sense, and the energy of sober conviction. But she did not interpose the arm of her own power to arrest the law, and break the embargo. Far from it. Iler principles bound her to two things; and she fol- lowed her principles, lead where they might. First, to submit to every con- stitutional law of Congress, and sec- ondly, if the constitutional validity of the law be doubted, to refer that question to the decision of the proper tribunals. The first principle is vain and ineffect- ual without the second. A majority of us in New England believed the em- bargo law unconstitutional; but the gi-eat question was, and always will be in such cases, AVho is to decide this? Who is to judge between the people and the government? And, Sir, it is quite plain, that the Constitution of the Unit- ed States confers on the government itself, to be exercised by its appropriate department, and under its own respon- sibility to the people, this power of de- ciding ultimately and conclusively upon the just extent of its own authority. If this had not been done, we should not have advanced a single step beyond the old Confederation. Being fully of opinion that the em- bargo law was unconstitutional, the people of New England were yet equally clear in the opinion, (it was a matter they did doubt upon,) that the ques- tion, after all, must be decided by the judicial tribunals of the United States. Before those tribunals, therefore, they brought the question. Under the pro- visions of the law, they had given bonds to millions in amount, and wliich were alleged to be forfeited. They suffered the bonds to be sued, and thus raised the question. In the old- fashioned way of settling disputes, they went to law. The case came to hearing and solemn argument; and he who es- poused their cause, and stood up for them against the validity of the em- bargo act, was none other than that great man, of whom the gentleman has made honorable mention, Samuel Dex- ter. He was then, Sir, in the fuhiess of his knowledge, and the maturitj' of his strength. He had retired from long and distinguished public service here, to the renewed pursuit of professional duties, canning with him all that en- largement and expansion, all the new strength and force, which an acquaint- ance with the more general subjects discussed in the national councils is capable of adding to professional attain- ment, in a mind of true greatness and i!62 THE REPLY TO HAYNE. comprehension He was a lawyer, and he was also a statesman. He had studied the Constitution, when he filled public station, that he might defend it; he had examined its principles that he might maintain them. More than all men, or at least as much as any man, he was attached to the general govern- ment and to the union of the States. His feelings and opinions all ran in that direction. A question of constitutional law, too, was, of all subjects, that one which was best suited to his talents and learning. Aloof from technicality, and unfettered by artificial rule, such a question gave opportunity for that deep and clear analysis, that mighty grasp of principle, which so much distinguished his higher efforts. His very statement was argument; his inference seemed demonstration. The earnestness of his own conviction wi-ought conviction in others. One was convinced, and be- lieved, and assented, because it was gratifying, delightful, to think, and feel, and believe, in unison with an in- tellect of such evident superiority. Mi Dexter, Su-, such as I have de- gcribed him, argued the New England cause. He put into his effort his whole heart, as well as all the powers of his miderstanding; for he had avowed, in the most public manner, his entire con- currence with his neighbors on the point in dispute. He argued the cause; it was lost, and Xew England sub- mitted. The established tribunals pro- nounced the law constitutional, and New England acquiesced. Now, Sir, is not this the exact opposite of the doc- trine of the gentleman from South Caro- lina? According to him, instead of referring to the judicial tribunals, we sliould have broken up the embargo by hiws of our own; we should have re- pealed it, quoad New England; for we iiad a strong, palpable, and oppressive case. Sir, we believed the embargo unconstitutional; but still that was matter of opinion, and who was to de- cide it? "We thought it a clear case; but, nevertheless, we did not take the law into our own hands, because we did not wish to bring about a revolution, nor to break up the Union ; for I main- tain, that between submission co the decision of the constituted tribunals, and revolution, or disunion, there is no middle giound; there is no ambiguous condition, half allegiance and half re- bellion. And, Sir, how futile, how very futile it is, to admit the right of State* interference, and then attempt to save it from the character of unlawful resistance, by adding terms of qualifica- tion to the causes and occasions, leaving all these qualifications, like the case it- self, in the discretion of the State gov- ernments. It must be a clear case, it is said, a deliberate case, a palpable case, a dangerous case. But then the State is still left at liberty to decide for her- self what is clear, what is deliberate, what is palpable, what is dangerous. Do adjectives and epithets avail any thing? Sir, the human mind is so consti- tuted, that the merits of both sides of a controversy appear verj' clear, and very palpable, to those who respectively es- pouse them; and both sides usually grow clearer as the controversy ad- vances. South Carolina sees micon- stitutionality in the tariff; she sees oppression there also, and she sees danger. Peimsylvania, with a vision not less sharp, looks at the same tariff, and sees no such thing in it ; she sees it all constitutional, all useful, all safe. The faith of South Carolina is strength- ened by opposition, and she now not only sees, but resolves, that the tariff is palpably unconstitutional, oppressive, and dangerous; but Pennsylvania, not to be behind her neighbors, and equally willing to strengtlien her own faith by a confident asseveration, resolres, also, and gives to every warm affirmative of South Carolina, a plain, downright, Pennsylvania negative. South Caro- lina, to show the stiength and unity of her oinnion, brings her assembly to & unanimity, within seven voices; Penn- sylvania, not to be outdone in this re- spect any more than in others, reduces her dissentient fraction to a single vote. Now, Sir, again, I ask the gentleman, j What is to be done? Are these States THE REPLY TO IIAYXE. 263 both right? Is he bound to consider them both riglit? If not, which is in the wrong? or rather, which has the best right to decide? And if he, and if I, are not to know what the Constitu- tion means, and what it is, till those two State legislatures, and the twenty- two others, shall agree in its construc- tion, what have we sworn to, when we have sworn to maintain it? I was for- cibly strack, Sir, with one reflection, as the gentleman went on in his speech. He quoted Mr. Madison's resolutions, to prove that a State may interfere, in a case of deliberate, palpable, and dan- gerous exercise of a power not granted. The honorable member supposes the tariff law to be such an exercise of power; and that consequently a case has arisen in which the State may, if it see fit, interfere by its own law. Now it so happens, nevertheless, that Mr. Madison deems this same tariff law quite constitutional. Instead of a clear and palpable violation, it is, in his judgment, no violation at all. So that, while they use his authority for a hypo- thetical case, they reject it in the very case before them. All this. Sir, shows the inherent futility, I had almost used a stronger word, of conceding this power of interference to the State, and then attempting to secure it from abuse by imposing qualifications of which the States themselves are to judge. One of two things is true; either the laws of the Union are beyond the discretion and beyond the control of the States; or else we have no constitution of general government, and are thrust back again to the days of the Confederation. Let me here say, Sir, that if the gen- tleman's doctiine had been received and acted upon in New England, in the times of the embargo and non-inter- course, we should probably not now have been here. The government would very likely have gone to pieces, and crumbled into dust. No stronger case can ever arise than existed under those laws; no States can ever entertain a clearer conviction than the New Eng- land States then entertained ; and if tliey had been under the influence of that heresy of opinion, as I must call it, which the honorable member es- pouses, this Union would, in all proba- bility, have been scattered to the four winds. I ask the gentleman, therefore, to apply his principles to that case; I ask him to come forth and declare, whether, in his opinion, the New Eng- land States would have been justified in interfering to break up the embargo system under the conscientious opinions which they held upon it? Had tliey a right to annul that law? Does he ad- mit or deny? If what is thought pal- pably unconstitutional in South Caro- lina justifies that State in arresting the progress of the law, tell me whether that which was thought palpably uncon- stitutional also in ^lassachusetts would have justified her in doing the same thing. Sir, I deny the whole doctrine. It has not a foot of ground in the Con- stitution to stand on. No public man of reputation ever advanced it in ^lassa- chusetts in the warmest times, or could maintain himself upon it there at any time. I wish now. Sir, to make a remark upon the Virginia resolutions of 1798. I cannot undertake to say how these resolutions were understood by those who passed them. Their language is not a little indefinite. In the case of the exercise by Congress of a danger- ous power not granted to them, the resolutions assert the right, on the part of the State, to interfere and arrest the progress of the evil. This is suscepti- ble of more than one interpretation. It may mean no more than that the States may interfere by complaint and remon- strance, or by proposing to the people an alteration of the Federal Constitu- tion. This would all be quite unob- jectionable. Or it may be that no more is meant than to assert the gener;il right of revolution, as against all gov- ernments, in cases of intolerable op- pression. This no one doubts, and tliis, in my opinion, is all that he who framed the resolutions could have meant by it; for I shall not readily believe that he was ever of opinion that a State, under the Constitution and in conformity with 264 THE REPLY TO HAYNE. it, coulJ, upon the ground of her own opinion of its unconstitutionality, how- ever clear and palpable she might think the case, annul a law of Congress, so far as it should operate on herself by her own legislative power. T must now beg to ask, Sir, "Whence is this supposed right of tlie States derived? Where do they find the power to inter- fere with the laws of the Union? Sir, the opinion which the honorable gentle- man maintains is a notion founded in a total misapprehension, in my judgment, of the origin of this government, and of the foundation on which it stands. I hold it to be a popular government, erected by the people ; those who admin- ister it, responsible to the people; and itself capable of being amended and modified, just as the people may choose it should be. It is as popular, just as truly emanating from the people, as the State governments. It is created for one purpose ; the State governments for another. It has its own powers; they have theirs. There is no more authority with them to arrest the operation of a law of Congress, than with Congress to arrest the operation of their laws. We are here to administer a Constitution emanating immediately from the people, and tr\isted by tlieiu to our administra- tion. It is not the creature of the State governments. It is of no moment to the argument, that certain acts of the State legislatures are necessary to fill our seats in this body. That is not one of tlieir original State powers, a part of the sovereignty of the State. It is a duty which the people, by the Constitu- tion itself, have imposed on the State legislatures; and which they might have left to be performed elsewhere, if they had seen fit. So they have left the choice of President with electors; but all this does not affect the proposition that this whole government. President, Senate, ami House of Representatives, is a popular government. It leaves it 6till all its popular character. The governor of a State (in some of the States) is chosen, not directly by the people, but by those who are choseu by the people, for the purpose of perform- ing, among other duties, that of elt-cting a governor. Is the government of the State, on that account, not a popular government? This government, Sir, is the independent offspring of the popular will. It is not the creature of State legislatures ; nay, more, if the whole truth nmst be told, the people brought it into existence, established it, and have hitherto supported it, for the very purpose, amongst others, of imposing certain salutaiy restraints on State sov- ereignties. The States cannot now make war; they cannot contract alli- ances; they cannot make, each for itself, separate regulations of commerce ; they cannot lay imposts; they cannot coin money. If this Constitution, Sir, be the creature of State legislatures, it must be admitted that it has obtained a strange control over the volitions of its creators. The people, then, Sir, erected thia government. They gave it a Constitu- tion, and in that Constitution they have enumerated the powers which they be- stow on it. They have made it a lim- ited government. They have defined its authority. They have restrained it to the exercise of such powers as are granted; and all others, they declare, are reserved to the States or the people. But, Sir, they have not stopped here. If they had, they would have accom- plished but half their work. Xo defini tion can be so clear, as to avoid possibil- ity of doubt; no limitation so precise as to exclude all uncertainty. Who, then, shall construe this grant of the people? Who shall interpret their will, where it may be supposed they have left it doubtful? With whom do they -re- pose this ultimate right of deciding on the powers of the government? Sir, they have settled all this in the fullest manner. They have left it with the government itself, in its approjuiate branches. Sir, the very chief end, the main design, for which the whole Con- stitution was framed and adopted, was to establish a government that should not be obliged to act through State agency, or depend on State opinion and THE REPLY TO HAYNE. 265 State discretion. The people had had quite enough of that kind of govern- ment under tlie Confederation. Under that system, the legal action, the appli- cation of law to individuals, belonged exclusively to the States. Congi'ess could only recommend; their acts were not of binding force, till the States had adopted and sanctioned them. Are we in that condition still? Are we yet at the mercy of State discretion and State construction? Sir, if we are, then vain will be our attempt to maintain the Constitution under which we sit. But, Sir, the people have wisely pro- vided, in the Constitution itself, a proper, suitable mode and tribunal for settling questions of constitutional law. There are in the Constitution grants of powers to Congress, and restrictions on tnese powers. There are, also, prohibi- tions on the States. Some authority must, therefore, necessarily exist, hav- ing the ultimate jurisdiction to fix and ascertain the interpretation of these grants, restrictions, and prohibitions. The Constitution has itself pointed out, ordained, and established that authority. How has ic accomplished this great and essential end? By declaring. Sir, that " the Constitution, and the laws of the United States made in pursuance thereof, shall be the supreme law of the land, any thing in the constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding/' This, Sir, was the first great step. By this the supremacy of the Constitution and laws of the United States is de- clared. The people so will it. No State law is to be valid which comes in conflict with the Constitution, or any law of the United States passed in pur- suance of it. But who shall decide this question of interference? To whom lies the last appeal? This, Sir, the Consti- tution itself decides also, by declaring, ^^ C at the judicial power shall extend to ad cases arising under the Constitution and laws of the United States.'' These two provisions cover the whole ground. They are, in truth, the keystone of the arcli! "With these it is a government; without them it is a confederation. In pursuance of these clear and express provisions, Congress established, at its very first session, in the judicial act, a mode for carrying them into full effect, and for bringing all questions of consti- tutional power to the final decision of the Sujireme Court. It then. Sir, be- came a government. It then had the means of self-protection; and but for this, it would, in all probability, have been now among things which are p;vst. Having constituted the government, and declared its powers, the people have fur- ther said, that, since somebody must decide on the extent of these powers, the government shall itself decide; sub- ject, always, like other popular govern- ments, to its responsibility to the people. And now, Sir, I repeat, how is it that a State legislature acquires any power to interfere? Who, or what, gives them the right to say to the people, "We, who are your agents and servants for one pur- pose, will undertake to decide, that your other agents and servants, appointed by you for another puipose, have transcend- ed the authority you gave them ! " The reply would be, I think, not impertinent, " A\nio made you a judge over anoth- er's servants? To their own masters they stand or fall." Sir, I deny this power of State legis- latures altogether. It cannot stand the test of examination. Gentlemen may say, that, in an extreme case, a State government might protect the people from intolerable oppression. Sir, in such a case, the people might protect themselves, without the aid of the State governments. Such a case warrants revolution. It must make, when it comes, a law for itself. A nullifying act of a State legislature cannot alter the case, nor make resistance any more lawful. In maintaining these senti- ments, Sir, I am but asserting the rights of the people. I state what they have declared, and insist on their right to de- clare it. They have chosen to repose this power in the general government, and I think it my duty to support it, like other constitutional powers. For myself. Sir, I do not admit the competency of South Carolina, or any other State, to prescribe my constitu- 266 THE REPLY TO HAYNt. tional duty; or to settle, between me and the people, the validity of laws of Congress for which I have voted. I decline her umpirage. I have not sworn to support the Constitution according to hei 2onstruction of its clauses. I have not stipulated, by my oath of office or otherwise, to come under any responsi- bility, except to the people, and those whom they have appointed to pass upon the question, whether laws, supported by my votes, conform to the Constitu- tion of the country. And, Sir, if we look to the general nature of the case, could any thing have been more prepos- terous, than to make a government for the whole Union, and yet leave its pow- ers subject, not to one interpretation, but to thirteen or twenty-four interpre- tations? Instead of one tribunal, estab- lished by all, responsible to all. with power to decide for all, shall constitu- tional questions be left to four-and- twenty popular bodies, each at liberty to decide for itself, and none bound to respect the decisions of others, — and each at liberty, too, to give a new con- struction on every new election of its own members? Would any thing, with Buch a principle in it, or rather with such a destitution of all principle, be fit to be called a government? No, Sir. It should not be denominated a Consti- tution. It should be called, rather, a collection of topics for everlasting controversy; heads of debate for a dis- putatious people. It would not be a government. It would not be adequate to any practical good, or fit for any country to live under. To avoid all possibility of being mis- understood, allow me to repeat again, in the fullest manner, that I claim no pow- ers for the government by forced or un- fair con.struction. I admit that it is a government of strictly limited powers; of enumerated, specified, and particular- ized powers; and that what.^oever is not granted, is withheld. But notwithstand- ing all this, and however the grant of powers may be expressed, its limit and extent may yet, in some cases, admit of doubt; and the general government would be tjood for nothing, it would be incapable of long existing, if some mode had not been provided in which those doubts, as they should arise, might be peaceably, but authoritatively, solved. And now, Mr. President, let me run the honorable gentleman's doctrine a lit- tle into its practical application. Let us look at his probable modus operandi. If a thing can be done, an ingenious man can tell how it is to be done, and I wish to be informed how this State interference is to be put in practice, without violence, bloodshed, and rebellion. "We will take the existing case of the tariff law. South Carolina is said to have made up her opinion upon it. If we do not repeal it, (as we probably shall not,) she will then apply to the case the rem- edy of her doctrine. She will, we must suppose, pass a law of her legislature, declaring the several acts of Congress usually called the tariff laws null and void, so far as they respect South Caro- lina, or the citizens thereof. So far, all is a paper transaction, and easy enough. But the collector at Charleston is col- lecting the duties imposed by these tariff laws. He, therefore, must be stopped. The collector will seize the goods if the tariff duties are not paid. The State authorities will undertake their rescue, the marshal, witli his posse, will come to the collector's aid, and here the con- test begins. The militia of the State will be called out to sustain the nullify- ing act. They will march. Sir, under a very gallant leader; for I believe the honorable member himself commands the militia of that part of the State. He will raise the nullifying .^ct on his standard, and spread it out as his banner! It will have a preamble, set- ting forth that the tariff laws are palpa- ble, deliberate, and dangerous violations of the Constitution! He will proceed, with this banner flying, to the custom- house in Charleston, "All the while Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds." Arrived at the custom-house, he will tell the collector that he must collect no more duties under any of the tariff laws. This he will be somewhat puzzled to say, by the way, with a grave countenance, THE REPLY TO HAYNE. 267 considering what hand South Carolina herself had in tliat of 1816. But, Sir, the collector would not, probably, desist, at his bidding. He would show him the law of Congress, the treasury instruc- tion, and his own oath of office. lie would say, he should perform his duty, come what come might. Here would ensue a pause; for they say that a certain stillness precedes the tempest. The trumpeter would hold his breath awhile, and before all this mili- tary array should fall on tlie custom- house, collector, clerks, and all, it is very probable some of those composing it would request of their gallant com- mander-in-chief to be informed a little upon the point of law; for they have, doubtless, a just respect for his opinions as a lawyer, as well as for his bravery as a soldier. They know he has read Blackstone and the Constitution, as well as Turenue and Yauban. They would ask him, therefore, something concern- ing their rights in this matter. They woidd inquire, whether it was not some- ■what dangerous to resist a law of the United States. What would be the na- ture of their offence, they would wish to learn, if they, by military force and array, resisted the execution in Carolina of a law of the United States, and it should turn out, after all, that the law was constitutional? He would answer, of course, Treason. No lawyer could give any other answer. John Fries, he ■would tell them, had learned that, some years ago. How, then, they would ask, do you propose to defend us? We are not afraid of bullets, but treason has a way of taking people off that we do not much relish. How do you propose to defend us? " Look at my floating ban- ner," he would reply; "see there the nullifying law!^' Is it your opinion, gallant commander, they would then say, that, if we should be indicted for treason, that same floating banner of yours would make a good plea in bar? " South Carolina is a sovereign State," he would reply. That is true; but would the judge admit our plea? "These tariff laws," he would repeat, ' are unconstitutional, palpably, delib- erately, dangerously." That may all bo so; but if the tribunal should not hap- pen to be of that opinion, shall we swing for it? We are ready to die for our coun- tiy, but it is rather an awkward business, this dying without touching the ground! After all, that is a sort of hemp tax worse than any part of the tariff. Mr. President, the honorable gentle- man would be in a dilemma, like that of another great general. He would have a knot before him which he could not untie. He must cut it with his sword. He must say to his followers, " Defend yourselves with your bayonets"; and this is war, — civil war. Direct collision, therefore, between force and force, is the unavoidable re- sult of that remedy for the revision of unconstitutional laws which the gentle- man contends for. It must happen in the very first case to w^hich it is applied. Is not this the plain result? To resist by force the execution of a law, gener- ally, is treason. Can the courts of the United States take notice of the indul- gence of a State to commit treason? The common saying, that a State cannot commit treason herself, is nothing to the purpose. Can she authorize othei-s to do it? If John Fries had produced an act of Pennsylvania, annulling the law of Congress, would it have helped his case? Talk about it as we will, these doctrines go the length of revolution. They are incompatible wnth any peace- able administration of the government. They lead directly to disunion and civil commotion ; and therefore it is, that at their commencement, when they are first found to be maintained by re- spectable men, and in a tangible form, 1 enter my public protest against them all. The honorable gentleman argues, that, if this government be the sole judge of the extent of its own powers, wliether that right of judging be in Congress or the Supreme Court, it equally subverts State sovereignty. This the gentleman sees, or thinks he sees, although he can- not perceive how the right of judijing, in this matter, if left to the exercise of State legislatures, has any tendency to 268 THE REPLY TO HAYNE. subvert tne government of the Union. The gentleman's opinion may be, that the right ought not to have been lodged with the general government; he may like better such a constitution as we should ha,ve under the right of State in- terference; but I ask him to meet me on the plain matter of fact. I ask him to mef't me on the Constitution itself. I ask him if the power is not found there, clearly and visibly found there? But, Sir, what is this danger, and what are the grounds of it? Let it be remembered, that the Constitution of the United States is not unalterable. It is to continue in its present form no longer than the people who established it shall choose to continue it. If they shall become convinced that they have made an injudicious or inexpedient par- tition and distribution of power between the State governments and the general government, they can alter that distribu- tion at will. If any thing be found in the national Constitution, either by original provision or subsequent interpretation, which ought not to be in it, the people know how to get rid of it. If any construc- tion, unacceptable to them, be estab- lished, so as to become practically a part of the Constitution, they will amend it, at their own sovereign pleasure. But while the people choose to maintain it as it is, while they are satisfied with it, and refuse to change it, who has given, or who can give, to the State legislatures a right to alter it, either by interference, construction, or otherwise? Gentlemen do not seem to recollect that the people liave any power to do any thing for themselves. They imagine there is no Bafet} for them, any longer than they are under the clo.se guardian.ship of the State legislatures. Sir, the people have I <*■; trusted their safety, in regard to the general Constitution, to these hands. They have required other security, and taken other bonds. They have chosen tc» trust themselves, first, to the plain words of the instrument, and to such construction as the government them- selves, in doubtful ca.ses, should put on their own powers, under their oaths of office, and subject to their re.sponsibility to them; just as the people of a Stat« trust their own State governments with a similar power. Secondly, they have reposed their trust in the efficacy of fre- quent elections, and in their own power to remove their own servants and agents whenever they see cause. Thirdly, they have reposed trust in the judicial power, which, in order that it might be trust- worthy, they have made as respectable, as disinterested, and as independent as wa3 practicable. Fourthly, they have seen fit to rely, in case of necessity, or high expediency, on their known and admitted power to alter or amend the Constitution, peaceably and quietly, whenever experience shall point out de- fects or imperfections. And, finally, the people of the United States have at no time, in no way, directly or in- directly, authorized any State legislature to construe or interpret their high instru- ment of government; much less, to in- terfere, by their own power, to arrest its course and operation. If, Sir, the people in these respects had done otherwise than they have done, their Constitution could neither have been preserved, nor would it have been worth preserving. And if its plain pro visions shall now be disregarded, and these new doctrines interpolated in it, it will become as feeble and helpless a being as its enemies, whether early or more recent, could possibly desire. It will exist in every State but as a poor dependent on State permission. It must borrow leave to be; and will be, no lon- ger than State pleasure, or State discre- tion, sees fit to grant the indulgence, and to prolong its poor existence. But, Sir, although there are fears, there are hopes also. The people have preserved this, their own chosen Consti- tution, for forty years, and have seen their happiness, prosperity, and renown grow with its growth, and strengthen with its strength. They are now, gen- erally, strongly attached to it. Over- thrown by direct assault, it cannot be; evaded, undermined, xullikiko, it will not be, if we and those who shall suc- ceed us here, as agents and representa- THE RErLY TO IIAYNE. ii