}; ; ^■v> -=. \^^" O 0^ '.s. .,^ .■\^ .%y <^^^. h- ^y ,^ -- ^-^-^ '^. :..o^>' : ,•.-^ -Ci. •■- f : ■^' % ' \ .>'^-' '-ru. ^' ^0" V-'' x^ ■■>, < , . " .0- / 'v.. ^•^- ^^ x^^'%. \\ ., ' ' , ■/• ' a\ -.. c^^ ', '%. O ,.v ■■■s-^ : %<^^ ^■\ \ Cl. vO O. -A^' \^'. ^^ % • o- ■ 0- . J- ^' ^ ■%. V ■^^4/ ^ sO ^. .-N -o. \' V ■^. ,^ ■'■■s- .<^- \ -f- ^- -. -^-^^ -N"'" <-j. <^' ^> '■.> \" - >+ -^ : A- ■Ks. .<^ .A' ,s.>' ■'::., ' V- ^ .^^ OO" c5 •^^-, ,•.■^ -^^i. ,,'\ {>- .^ -n-. o5 -U ■J- ,\\ 1^ r; ©0^ V, .-i\' .,\^^ "-^/^. -.J- .^v jsr V J^-*^^?^^^^^ i^:^''- ^^^"^" ii:. AN ADDRESS ^ife, (!iy;micttr anb Snbicts WILLIAM HENRY SEWARD. DELIVERED AT THE REQUEST OP goth liott.SfSi of the ^rgi.slatuu of ITm "^oxU, AT ALBANY, APRIL 18, 1873, / CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS. ALBANY: WEED, PARSONS AND COMPANY. 1873. rtS. hz.^) "^ \^ \^ |(n |%»toiiam. PROCEEDINGS legislature of the ^UU of ^t\v Uotfe ON THE DEATH OP ^x-^ovcriior ^illiitm ^. ^eiiaril. State of Neto ©orfe: On motion of Mr. Perry : IN SENATE, January 32, 1873. Resolved, That a select committee of three be appointed, on the part of the Senate, to meet witli a committee on the part of the Assembly, to report resolutions expressive of the sense of the Legislature, relative to the decease of ex-Governor WILLIAM H. SEWARD, and that, if the Assembly concur therein, the Senate will meet at 12 o'clock noon, on Friday, the 24th instant, for hearing the report of said committee. The President appointed as, such committee, on the part of the Senate, Senators Perry, Woodin and Johnson. Legislative P EGISLATIVE -PROCEEDINGS. IN ASSEMBLY, January 23, 1873. Resolved, That the Assembly do concur in the resolution adopted by the Senate, relative to the death of ex-Governor SEWARD; and that Messrs. Clapp, Van Cott, Blackie, Beebe and McGuiRE be appointed as such committee on the part of the Assembly. The joint committee, to which the subject was referred, reported the following preamble and resolu- tions, which were unanimously adopted : Whereas, after the adjournment of the Legislature, at its last session, the country heard, with the deepest sorrow, of tlie death of WILLL^\M H. SEWARD, ex-Governor of the State of New York ; therefore, Rssoh'i'd. That the Legislature of the State of New York is pro- foundly sensible of the great loss which the State and the Nation have thus sustained. Resolved, That while we lament such loss, we still experience a mournful satisfaction and a loftv pride in recalling the varied and invaluable services which he rendered to his country; tlie acknowledged ability and patriotic zeal with which he, on all occasions, maintained her rights and defended her honor ; the purity of his character, the grandeur of his intellectual endow- ments, the variety and extent of his learning, and the industry', fearlessness and fidelity which ever marked his career, both in public and private life. Resflh'ed, That the Legislature of this State tender to the family of the deceased its sincere condolence upon the sad bereavement which has removed from the domestic circle its affectionate and illustrious head. T t Legislative jProceedings. Resolved, Tliat the joint committee be and they hereby are authorized and requested to make such arrangements as they may deem proper for the commemoration of the solemn event, by the deHvery of an oration before the two Houses by some distinguished citizen. Resolved, That, as a testimony of respect, the two Houses of the Legislature do now adjourn. Committee on part of the Senate : JOHN C. PERRY, WM. B. WOODIN WM. JOHNSON, Committee on part of the Assembly : W. S. CLAPP, GEO. M. BEEBE, CHAS. BLACKIE, DAVID C. VAN COTT, J. McGUIRE. In pursuance of the foregoing resolutions, the joint committee reported that they had tendered to the Hon. Charles Francis Adams an invitation to deliver the memorial address, and that he had accepted the invitation. The following is the correspondence : Legislative Proceedings. Letter to Mr. Adams, "state of new york: " Senate Chamber, I. " Albany, February 8, 1873. \ " Hon. Charles Francis Adams: ^^'^ Dear Sir — I have the honor herewith to transmit an authenticated copy of the report of a select committee of our State Legislature, who were appointed under a concurrent resolution of the Senate and Assembly, ' to report resolutions, etc., expressive of the sense of the Legislature relative to the decease of ex-Governor William H. Seward,' which report has been unanimously adopted. " At a meeting of the two committees, held pursuant to the resolution contained in the report, it was unanimously resolve(i to invite you to deliver an address at some convenient time during the session, suitable to the occasion; and the undersigned chairman of the joint committee was instructed to communicate such invitation. " Aside from other considerations, the committee, in tendering this invitation, beg leave to state that, inasmuch as the deceased, on the occasion of the death of your honored father, delivered an oration to his memory before our State Legislature, the committee feel that noth'uig could be more appropriate, and nothing afford the friends of the honored dead a greater degree of satisfaction tban to have you, on lliis interest- ing and solemn occasion, reciprocate the favor by accepting this invitation. " Requesting the favor of an early reply, " I am, " Vours, very respectfully, "JOHN C. PERRY, " Chairman o/yoint Comntittee." Mr. Adams' Reply. " 57 Mount Vernon street, \ " HosTON, February iz, 1873. ( " Hon. J. C. Perrv, " Ckairma7i^ efc. Senate oj" New Vork^ Albany : '* Dear Sir —I have to acknowledge the reception, this morning, of your letter ol the 8th instant, and of a copy of the resolutions adopted by the LegisHture of New York, on the occasion of the decease of their eminent statesman, the late \Y. H. Seward. " On behalf of the joint committee authorized to act under one of those resolu- tions, you, as their chairman, have been pleased to signify to me their wish that I should deliver the address contemplated. " Profoundly sensible of the honor conferred upon me, I feel as if I could not decline the task, however unworthy to perform it. •' In accepting it, however, it becomes of some importance to me to know what period of time can be allotted to me within which to accomplish the work. As much of the material which I should wish to gather for the purpose must be found scattered Legislative f'ROCEE dings. far and wide, and the sessions of the Legislature are already considerably advanced, this becomes a question upon which my absolute decision must turn. I should be sorry to do a hurried or hasty thing upon so great an occasion. " I am, verv truly, " Your obedient servant, " charles francis adams." Second Letter to Mr. Adams, "state of new york: " Senate Chamber, i " Albany, Febrttavy 13, 1873. / " Hon. Charles Francis Adams, Boston^ Mass. : " Di-ar Sir — Your letter of the 12th accepting the invitation contained in my com- munication of the 8th instant, to deliver an address on the late Wiluam H. Seward, before the New York Legislature, was received this morning, and laid before the joint committee. " In reply, I beg leave to state that the committee have instructed me to tender their very sincere thanks for your prompt and cordial acceptance of their invitation, and to inform you that it is their opinion that the session of the Legislature will not terminate before the 20th of April. " The committee, therefore, will set apart for the memorial occasion any day prior to that time, which you may be pleased to designate. *' Very respectfully and obediently yours, ''JOHN C. PERRY, " Chairman of yoint Cotntnittee.'^ The day finally fixed upon for the memorial pro- ceedhigs was Friday, the iSth day of April — the exercises to be held in the North Reformed Church. On the day designated, the Legislature and invited guests assembled at the Capitol, and, headed by his Excellency, Governor John A. Dix, and staff, pro- ceeded in a body to the church, where the follow- ing exercises took place, his Excellency presiding, assisted by Lieutenant-Governor John C. Robinson, President of the Senate, and the Hon. A. B. Cornell, Speaker of the Assembly. ^.vcrcifjcfj at the ^hurtlt. ORGAN. — IN TROD UCTOR Y. Q UAR TETTE. — " How Sleep the Brave," - Rooke. Arranged by J. R. Thomas. PRAYER. — V-Y Rev. Rufus W. Clark, D.D. Almighty Father, we adore Thee as the Sovereign of the Universe, the source of our being, and the arbiter of our destiny. We worship Thee as our King, and render thanks to Thee for all the advantages and blessings of life. We realize our entire dependence upon Thee, for every faculty of our nature, and gifts of Thy providence ; and we seek Thy guidance in our daily duties. We thank Thee for the gifts of Thy Son, who brought with Him to earth, a heart that beat in sympathy with every form of human sorrow. We rejoice, that standing at the grave, He announced Himself as the Resurrection and the Life, to all who believe. May we have faith in Him, and in the power and fruits of the Resurrection. May Thy Holy Spirit descend and rest upon this vast assemblage; illuminating every heart, and making of every soul a temple of the living God. Do Thou guide in the services of this interesting and solemn occasion. While we mourn the departure of Thy servant, whose death has summoned us here to-day, we sorrow not as those who have no hope. We thank Thee for His pure and elevated char- acter; for the rigid integrity associated with his eminent natural abilities ; for his devotion to human rights, and the force and eloquence with which he defended them. We F XERCISES. bless Thee for his noble contributions to the cause of national liberty, and that in the conflict which his prophetic eye saw was " irrepressible," he was always found on the side of justice, humanity, and God. Standing on the plat- form of human rights and civil freedom, he publicly declared that if necessary, he would stand alone ; and we thank Thee that Thou didst stand with him, to sustain him. We are grateful to Thee for his reverence for religion; for his faith in the Lord Jesus Christ as his Saviour ; for his interest in the church, in Christian education, and in all enterprises that contribute to the extension of the Redeemer's King- dom. We thank Thee that Thou didst comfort him in his last hours, and that the hope of immortality dawned upon his spirit, as he departed from earth to Heaven. We commend to Thee the bereaved relatives and friends, beseeching Thee that they may ever trust in Thee, and exercise that faith in Christ, that will secure a reunion with the departed, in the realms of the blessed. We invoke Thy blessing upon all gathered here to-day, that Thou wouldst aid them in the faithful discharge of the duties of their several spheres. Grant that our rulers may be enriched with divine grace, inspired with pure patriotism, and be qualified to administer government for the best good of the people and the honor of God. Bless Thy servant, the President of the United States, and those associated with him in authority ; our national Senators and Representatives, and all holding positions of public responsibility and trust. May our Government reflect the principles of Thy divine government, that law and justice may be maintained, liberty preserved, and the prosperity of the nation secured. Bless Thy servant, the Governor of this Commonwealth, and those connected with him in the ^XERCISES. administration of public affairs. We render thanks to Tliee for their disposition and ability to maintain the laws against crime ; and that while they would gladly extend mercy to the penitent, they have revealed the strength of the Government to protect the property, rights and lives of its loyal citizens. Let Thy blessing rest upon our State Senators and Representatives, that they may be inspired with the prin- ciples of integrity and a pure, lofty patriotism. May all realize that any advantage or gain, secured by the sacrifice of principle, ceases to be an advantage. May they possess the wealth of conscious uprightness, and the satisfaction of having faithfully met and discharged every duty. Bless Thy servant, providentially called to address us to- day. We thank Thee for his sympathy with the principles and character of the ilhistrious dead, and for his eminent services rendered to the Nation. We bless Thee that, while enabled to secure the rights of the American people, he aided in promoting peace between two nations bound together by the same language and religion, and by mutual desires to advance civilization, and extend the Kingdom of our Lord Jesus Christ. We pray for Thy richest blessings to descend upon the American Republic. We thank Thee for our free institu- tions ; our pure religion ; our system of popular education ; our social and domestic advantages, and the prosperity we have received from Thee. Thou didst preserve the ship of State in the tempest that threatened her destruction, and we pray that divine wisdom may continue to guide us, and Almighty Power continue to bless us. And now we seek preparation to follow our departed friend, whose virtues and services we are assembled to commemorate. Help us so to live that death may be life. [8] 9 LXERCISES. !May the music of angelic hosts and songs of the redeemed welcome us to the Heavenly home. May we gaze with delight upon celestial cities, and temples of divine beauty, and meeting in the city of God, with a great multitude that no man can number, we will ascribe blessing and honor and glory and power unto Him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb, forever and ever. Amen. ORGAN SOLO. — '' Dead March in Saul," - Handd. READING of the Memorial Resolutions of the Legislature. By Charles R. Dayton, Clerk of the Senate. RECITATIVE and ARIA.— ''T\\& Trumpet shall Sound." Handel. J. R. Thomas. INTRODUCTION OF THE ORATOR. By Gov. John A. Dix, as follows : A quarter of a century ago, this very month, and within these walls, WILLIAM H. SEWARD delivered a memorial discourse on the character and public services of John Quincy Adams. And to-day the son of Mr. Adams is here to pronounce a similar discourse on Mr. Seward. Thus, with these two kindred ceremonies are associated the names of three eminent statesmen, who have shared largely in the confidence and respect of their countrymen, and who, by tlieir distinguished talents and the purity of their lives, have contributed as largely to their country's welfare and reputation. I present to you the Hon. Charles Francis Adams. THE HON. CHARLES FRANCIS ADAMS then delivered the following Address : THE ADDRESS. FELLOW-piTIZENS OF THE SENATE AND ^SSEMBLY OF J^Ew York; You have honored me by an invitation to perform a duty, from the difficulty of which I shrink, the closer I approach it. I undertake it only with an assurance that, were my powers equal to my will, I should erect a monument more durable than marble or brass. The subject is fascinating, from the wide views which it opens of the noblest career of human life, and the highest aspirations of mortal ambition. Whatever may be the value of the modern specula- tions touching the origin of man, it seems quite clear that his intellectual stature has not essentially changed since the era when we find, in Greece, the most difficult social problems discussed with a pro- foundness never since surpassed. It is in one of the familiar dialogues reported by the philosopher Plato as having been held by Socrates, with his disciples, that the question is gravely presented whether such 11 JHE / DDRESS. a union be possible, in one and the same individual, as that of a philosopher and a statesman. What this combination means is admirably rendered by the latest translator in these words : " A man in whom the power of thought and action is perfectly balanced, equal to the present, reaching forward to the future." The conclusion drawn from that conversation was that such a person, ruling in a constitutional state, had not yet been seen. More than two thousand years have elapsed since this testimony was recorded, and the solution of the problem, with the added experience of an historic record, embracing the lives of sixty generations of the race, far more widely observed over the globe, is still to seek. HAS THERE EVER BEEN SUCH A MAN. Without attempting to enter upon such a topic, demanding a life-time of research, it may, perhaps, be permitted to me to observe that, from what we may learn of the career of all those who have since been competitors in this noblest of human pursuits, it is possible for us to deduce some general laws of human action valuable to bear in mind. Praying your pardon for my boldness, I would, then, venture to suggest that, by a comparison of the multitude of examples, we may readily reduce them all to a classi- fication consisting of three forms. The first and lowest of these embraces all those The Address. lives in which power has been exercised mainly for personal ends, with little regard to the public good. If called to give an example of this class, I should name the noted Cleon, of Athens, as delineated so forcibly by his contemporaries, Thucydides, the historian, and Aristophanes, the dramatist. But this type of a public man, called a demagogue in a democracy, does not change its essence by transfer to more absolute forms of government. The inter- ested flatterer of the people simply puts on a laced coat and becomes the courtier of a monarch or any other sovereign power, one or many. Cleon, stimu- lating the passions of the Athenians to the massacre of the male population of Mitylene, was only work- ing for his own influence, just as Ashley Cooper, Lord Shaftesbury, stimulating the treacherous policy of the Second Charles in Great Britain, "The pillars of llie public safety shook ;" and just as Manuel Godoy, the Prince of Peace, by his selfish counsels precipitated the fall of the pitiful Charles of Spain. This, then, is the class which works the injury of nations. The next, and second division, includes those who with pure motives and equal capacity address them- selves to the work of maintaining the existing state of things as it is. Their aim is to reenforce estab- 13 The Address. lished ideas, and confirm ancient institutions. Of this type I would specify as examples, Cicero in antiquity. Sir Robert Walpole, Cardinal Mazarin, Prince Kaunitz, in later times. 2. This is the class which sustains nations. The third and last division consists of those who, possessing a creative force, labor to advance the con- dition of their fellow-men. Of such I find a type in Pericles, in Gregory I, and in Cartlinal Richelieu. 3. This is the class which develops nations. Measuring the life of William Henry Seward by this scale, I have no scruple in enrolling his name in the third and highest class. In my mind his case bears analogy to that of Pericles,* with this difference, that the sphere of his action was one by the side of which that of the other dwindles into nothing. On this occasion it is not my design to follow the common course of a purely chronological narrative. It would absorb too much time ; besides which, that work has been already well done by others who have preceded me. It will suffice to state that Mr. Seward was born with the century, and issued from the college at Schenectady at the age of nineteen. Three years passed in the customary probation of a lawyer's office gave him his profession, and one year * Any reader curious to know more of the grounds for tliis opinion is referred to the character given of this statesman by Grote. History of Greece, volume v, pp. 435-9. The Address. more found him married. In the words of the sagacious Lord of Verulam, he had " given hostages to fortune," and very early "assumed impediments to great enterprises, whether of virtue or mischief" From that moment he could hope to enlarge the basis of his imperfect education only by snatching what he might out of the intervals of rest in a busy life. Hence it becomes proper to assume that, in the just sense of the word, Mr. Seward was never a learned man. In the ardor with which he rushed into affairs, the wonder is that he acquired what he did. To his faculty of rapid digestion of what he could read, he was indebted for the attainments he actually mastered. For it should be further remarked that, though he faithfully applied himself to his profession, it was not an occupation congenial to his taste. On the contrary, he held it in aversion. He felt in himself a capacity to play a noble part on the more spacious theater of State affairs. His aspiration was for the fame of a statesman, and, in indulging this propensity, he committed no mistake. The chief characteristic of his mind was its breadth of view. In this sense he was a philosopher study- ing politics. He began by forming for himself a general idea of government, by which all questions of a practical nature that came up for consideration were to be tested. This naturally led him to prefer the field of legislation to that of administration. The Address. though he proved equally skillful in both. Almost simultaneously with his marriage, he appeared ready to launch into the political conflicts of the hour. Commencing in his small way, he rose by easy degrees into the atmosphere of statesmanship. I distinguish between these conditions, not to derogate from either. In our past experience there have been many politicians who have not become statesmen. So, also, there have been many statesmen who were never politicians. Mr. Seward was equally at home in both positions. But, inasmuch as this made up the true career which he followed, I am driven to the necessity of considering it almost exclusively. And, while so doing, I am also constrained to plunge more or less deeply into the Serbonian bog of obsolete party politics. I am not insensible to the nature of the difficulties under which I lalior in an exposition of this kind. On the one side I run a risk of tiying your patience by tedious reference to stale excite- ments ; and on the other, of raking over the ashes of fires still holding heat enough to burn. All I can say in excuse is that, in my belief, no correct delinea- tion of the course of this eminent leader can be made without it. Permit me only to add a promise that, in whatever I feel it my duty to say, it will be my endeavor to be guided by as calm and impartial a spirit as the lot of humanity will admit. Happily, The Address. my purpose is facilitated at this moment, by the fact that the passions which so fiercely raged during the period I am to review are in a measure laid asleep by the removal of the chief causes which set them in motion. . The political history of the country under its present form of government naturally divides itself into two periods of nearly equal length. The first embraces the administration of the first five presi- dents, and the settlement of the principles upon which a policy was guided, as well at home as abroad. But by reason of the almost continuous embarrassments occasioned by the violent conflicts then raging over the entire Continent of Europe, the agitation of parties had its chief source in conflicting views of foreign rather than domestic questions. Hence it came to a natural end with the reestablishment of a general peace. The foundation of parties having failed, there followed an interval of harmony, which, at the time, was known by the name of the " era of good feelings." Suddenly there sprang up a contest, wholly new in its nature, the first sound of which the veteran Jefferson, in his retreat at Monticello, Hkened to that of a fire-bell at night. The territory of Missouri wished to be organized, and admitted into the Union as a State. An effort was made to affix a condition that negro slavery should not be permitted there. The Address. The line of division between the free and the slave- holding States was at once defined, and, for a time, the battle was fought in the halls of Congress with the greatest pertinacity. With equal suddenness the quarrel was appeased by the adoption of a proposal denominated " a compromise," and matters seemed again to settle down in the old way. The general election for the presidency followed. The evidence of the complete disorganization of parties was made visible in the multiplication of the candidates. Five aspirants were brought forward l)y their respective friends, four out of the five from tlie slave-holding States. In this state of distraction, it was not unnatural that the single candidate from the free States should have an advantage. He was elected. But four years later appeared a very different state of thinos. The slave-holdinsr States had then con- centrated on their most popular candidate, and, forming an alliance with a larw section of the popular party in the North, they effected a complete establishment of their power. Here is the origin of the division of parties which prevailed for more than thirty years. But it should be noted that this was predicated upon the basis of what was called " the compromise " estabhshed by the Missouri question, and a consequent tacit understanding that the subject of negro slavery was to lie as much excluded from political discussion as if it did not exist. 18 JHE /. DDRESS. The great State of New York had, by a division of its electoral votes, contributed little or nothing to the triumph. But, after the decisive result, an organization followed, which, by pledging itself to the fortunes of the new dynasty, succeeded in main- taining its ascendency for many years. This claimed to be the popular, or Democratic, party. In opposi- tion were soon arrayed the class, in the free States, leaning to conservative opinions in all questions connected with the security of property ; and with them were combined under the leadership of an eminent statesman of the West, Henry Clay, so much of the population of that section as could be attracted to his banner. This was finally known as the Whig party. It follows from this statement that the issues made between these parties were mainly confined to superficial questions of management of the public affairs or the construction of Federal powers. Hence it happened, singularly enough, that, for a considerable period of time, the disputes were turned in a direction which had no reference what- ever to the most serious part of the policy upon which the Government was secretly acting. That policy was the extension of the slave-holding power by gaining new territory over which to spread it. For it should be observed that, while a profound silence was observed at home, the new Administra- tion had not been long settled in its place, before secret agencies were set in motion, through the diplomatic department, to procure expansion in the (.Hrectiiin in which this object could be the most easily etfected. This pointed southwest to Texas, a territory then forming a part of the Mexican Republic. Such being the state of things at the outset of Mr. Seward's career, the first thing necessary for him to do was to choose his side. Under his father's roof the influences naturally carried him to sympa- thize with the old Jeffersonian partv on the one hand, while the relics of the slave-system remaining in the family as house-servants, the least repulsive form of that relation, seemed little likely to inspire in him much aversion to it on the other. Neverthe- less, he early formed his conclusicjns adversely to the organization in New York professing to be the successors of the Jefferson school, and not less so to the perpetuation of slavery anywhere. The reason for this is obvious. With his keen perception of the operation of general principles, he penetrated at once the fact that the resurrection, in this form, of the old party was not only hollow, but selfish. It looked to him somewhat like a close corporation, made for the purpose of dealing in popular doctrines, not so much for the public benefit as for that of the indi- vidual directors. Moreover, it became clear that, among those doctrines, that of freedom to the slave 20 The Address. was rigorously excluded by reason of the bond of union entered into with his masters at the South. In reality, he was, in principle, too democratic for the Democrats. Hence, he waged incessant war against this form of oligarchy down to the hour when it was finally broken up. On the other hand, the selection of the more con- servative side, which he finally made, was one not unattended with difficulty. The idea of a popular form of government which he had built up in his own mind was one of the most expansive kind. He applied it to our system, and saw at once the means of its development almost indefinitely. In the variety of details as they passed before him, whether it was legislation, education, immigration, internal or external communication, personal or religious liberty, social equalization, or national expansion, he viewed the treatment of all in his large, generalizing way, always subject, however, to the regulation of general laws. In this he was conservative, that he sought to change, only the better to expand on a wider scale. Neither by liberty did he ever mean license. So far as I can comprehend the true sense of the word " democracy," I have never found my idea more broadly developed than by him. It is far more practi- cal than any thing ever taught by Jeflferson, and throws into deep shadow the performances of most of his modern disciples. The alternative to which he was JHE f. DDRESS. driven was not without embarrassments, which he soon had occasion to feel. In allying himself with a party in which conservative views had more or less positive control, he could not fail to understand that his doctrines would sometimes inspire many of his associates with distrust, and some with absolute dis- like, even though they might tolerate a union for the sake of the obvious advantage of his eifective abilities. In point of fact, he soon became a repre- sentative of the younger, the ardent, and the liberal division, wliich favored a policy more in harmony with the nature of our institutions than suited the adherents to long established ideas. Yet these were not long in finding out that he was possessed of powers to direct the popular sense, which, on the whole, it was not expedient for them to neglect. Presently an occasion made him prominent in the State elections. The inconsistency, which he could not fail to expose, of the power of secret societies with popular institutions, as illustrated in the well- known story of the abduction and death of Morgan, made him, first, a member of the Senate of this State, and afterward raised him to be the Governor for two terms. In all this public service he is found boldly adhering to his broad views, even when they were so much in advance as actually to conflict with popular prejudices. He led so far that few could keep pace with him. Some even jeered, and many absolutely denounced him. The opposition was so stubborn, at last, that he decided to withdraw from the field. Yet the period soon arrived when the wisdom of his course came to be fully recognized, and the disputed points of his policy firmly estab- lished. I very much fear lest in this analysis I may have much too seriously- fatigued your attention. Yet, without it, I am convinced that I cannot illustrate the various phenomena of Mr. Seward's public life, or point out the difficulties through which he was perpetually working his way. Now begins to be felt beneath our feet the first tremulous motion of what ultimately proved the great earthquake that shook the party organizations to pieces. I have already alluded to the first hidden overture made by General Jackson to the Govern- ment of Mexico, through the agency of Anthony Butler. Failing in this intrigue to get the teiritory desired by purchase, the next stroke was to endeavor to steal it by the indirect process of colonizing emigration. I have no time to dwell on the details of that nefarious transaction, which, partially checked by the prudent timidity of Martin Van Buren, revived with vigor under the pseudo*-presidency of *This word is intended to signif)' a doubt wliether the decision hastily made in this case by irresponsible persons was a just one. It is much to be regretted that the precise position of the Vice- President, in such an emergency, had not been determined by the Supreme Court. In at 23 The Address. John Tyler, and was nltimately consummated with the sanction ot James K. Poll-:. But this daring- policv, however well covered at its outset, did not fail yradually to fix upon it the attention of numbers of the calmest and most moderate thinkers of the country least bound by the fetters of either political school. Taken in connec- tion with the arbitrary spirit manifested by the efforts to suppress by popular violence the proceedings of a luunlful of enthusiasts, who only claimed their unquestionable right to express in jiuijlic their objec- tions to the whole swstem of slavery, whether at home or abroad, their eyes began to open to the realization ol how tar the action of the Government and i)eople had drilled trom the original j)rinciples with which it started. V'ery slowly at first, luit steadily afterward, the public sentiment went on gathering sufficient force to make itself an object of attention to the leading men of the two parties. For some years, the ordinary discipline, so thoroughly estalilished among our habits, continued to resist even the heaviest strain which the slave-holding alliance thought proper to place upon it. But the moment caniL- when the assumption of the right absolutely to control the expression of the sense of least one of the tluee contingencies provided by the Conslitiiliun, lie could be only a temporary agent. It seems to me lie should have lieen so regarded in all. The y^DDRESs. the people, in the form of respectful petition to their own representatives, proved a burden too heavy to bear. The cord then snapped, and from that date the disintegration of the old organization may be observed steadily hastening to its close. The sentiment of Mr. Seward on the subject of slavery had been early expressed. Previously to graduating at college, he had passed six months in the State of Georgia, but he seems not to have been converted by his experience to any faith in the sys- tem. His first public demonstration was made in a Fourth-of-July oration, delivered at Auburn, when he was twenty-four years old. The passage is suffi- ciently striking, in view of our later history, to merit quotation here. Speaking of the Union : " Those, too," he says, " misapprehend either the true interest of the people of these States, or their intelligence, who believe or profess to believe that a separation will ever take place between the North and the South. The people of the North have been seldom suspected of a want of attachment to the Union, and those of the South have been much misrepre- sented by a few politicians of a stormy character, who have ever been unsupported by the people there. The North will not willingly give up the power they now have in the national councils, of gradually com- pleting a work of which, whether united or separate, from proximity of territory, we shall ever be inter- ested — the emancipation of slaves. And the South will never, in a moment of resentment, expose them- selves to a war with the North while they have such a great domestic population of slaves ready to em- brace any opportunity to assert their freedom, and inflict their revenge." In this passage, the deliberate claim of a power in the Federal Government to emancipate slaves by legislation is not less remarkable than the miscalculation of the force of the passions which led the South, in the end, to the very step that brought on the predicted consequences. Yet in his conclusion he proved a prophet. But he then could little have foreseen the share he was to have in controlling the final convulsion. Mr. Seward terminated his career as a State poli- tician with a very elaborate exposition of his views of policy, presented with great ability. It was wise in him to retreat, leaving such a legacy, for he thus escaped complications with local interests and rival jealousies, which render perseverance in purely local struggles such a thankless labor. It was this error which for a long time impaired the usefulness of another great statesman of New York, De Witt Clinton. From this date, Mr. Seward remained several years in private life, steadily pursuing his profession. The course of public affairs had not proved propitious to his party. The gleam of light shed by the success of General Hairison, in the 26 JHE / DDRESS. presidential election, had turned to darkness by his death, and the consequent succession of John Tyler. Then followed the sharply-disputed election of 1844, when, for the first time, was taught to the manipula- tors of nominations a new precedent by which to regulate their policy. The lesson was this : That between a man of proved abilities, marked character, and long services, like Henry Clay, on the one side, and one comparatively unknown, with a brief, insig- nificant career, like James K. Polk, as candidates for the presidency, the majority of the people will prefer the one against whom the least can be said. I shall have to recur to this matter by-and-by in another form. But there was another and still more significant lesson taught to politicians on this occasion : This was, that the party organizations founded upon a compromise, excluding the vital issue affecting the countiy, were about to meet with another shock. The final accomplishment of the scheme of enlarging the slave-holding region, by the acquisition of Texas, was well understood to be certain, in the event of the election of Mr. James K. Polk. On the other hand, the course likely to be taken, should Mr. Clay prove the victor, was left uncertain. A demand to know his sentiments was made so imperative that it was not deemed by him prudent to evade it. Yet, a rent in the party was almost sure to follow, what- ever might be his conclusion. The result was a weak 27 attcniiit, in a letter, to reconcile opinions which had become too discordant to permit of such treatment. Mr. Seward, though he faithfulU' adhered to the party, was too sagacious not to foresee the effect upon that portion of it with which he most sympathised at home. A defection of sixteen thousand voters in New York turned the scale, and Mr. Polk was elevated to jjower. This was the first considerable fissure made in the existing parties, and it inured to the benefit of the so-called Democracy. But their turn came around ne.xt time, when they were wrecked on the same rock. Such was the inevitable consequence of persevering in the maintenance of a division wholly superficial and evasive of the real and true issue — the permanence of the slave-holding supremacy. The consequences of the election of Mr. Polk were very serious. Not only was the State of Texas introduced, but a war with Mexico followed, and a much larger acquisition of territory at the peace than had been originally contemplated. The engineer had been " hoist with his own petard." The success of the war had naturally brought into notice the military leaders who most contributed to it. The election of 1829 estalilished another precedent for the guidance of parties, which had been confirmed bv the experience of 1840. This was in effect that, as between a civilian and a soldier, both of them of marked character, and of abilities proved by suf- ficient service, the people prefer the soldier. General Taylor had very much distinguished himself by his Mexican campaign, and the Whig party seized the earliest opportunity of enlisting him in its ranks. All the old statesmen were set aside, to press him into the arena, and, under a military banner, once more to overcome the Democrats, as had been done with Harrison. But, unluckily for the harmony of the movement, it came out that Taylor was a planter holding many slaves, in one of the richest cotton- producing States. The notion of setting up such a candidate in connection with an anti-slavery policy advocated by numbers of the party, seemed at first blush too preposterous to be countenanced for a moment. Yet it must be conceded that Mr. Seward undertook the difficult task of advocating the incon- sistency. I will frankly confess that I was one among many of his friends in New England who could not become reconciled to the contradiction apparent in this proceeding. We had reluctantly acquiesced in the ambiguous policy of Mr. Clay four years before ; but when it came to this, that we were called to give even a tacit ratification of the series of revolting measures that followed, including the Mexican war, and still more to elevate to the highest post of the country, as a reward for his services, a slave-holder having every possible inducement to 29 The Address. perpetuate the evil of which we complained, it proved a heavier load than we could bear. The consequence was a very considerable secession from the party, and an effort to bring before the public an independent nomination. This was carried out in what has ever since been remembered as the Buffalo Convention. Simultaneously with this movement, a similar one had been made in the Democratic party, a section of which of considerable force in New York, dissatisfied with the nomination of Lewis Cass, ultimately consented to make a part of the same assembly. The end was the nomination of Mr. Van Buren, and a declaration, for the first time, of a system of policy distinctly founded upon the true issues agitating the country. But, however the fact may be in the details of ordinary life, it is quite certain that, in the conflicts of politics, the persons who try the hardest to press straight fonvard to their object not unfrequently find themselves landed at the end of the opposite road. The effect of the nomination of Mr. Van Buren was to make us, his opponents, contribute to the triumph of General Taylor, more decisively than if we had voted for him directly. This it was that proved the wisdom of Mr. Seward in holding back from our action. Yet, with the success of General Taylor, the posi- tion in which Mi'. Seward found himself seems to 30 The Address. me, even now, to have been the most critical one in his life. He had in the canvass allowed himself to be freely used as an instrument to conciliate num- bers of his friends, strongly tempted to secede. In order to retain them he had to hold fast to his own ground, and even to give assurance of his confidence that it would be ultimately sustained in case of vic- toiy. I have lately read with care such reports of his speeches during that canvass as I could find ; and from that perusal I am constrained to admit that, much as I doubted his good faith at the time, I can- not perceive any failure in consistency or in com- mitting himself to any policy which might follow, adverse to the expectations he held out. In other words, he kept himself free to influence it favorably if he could, or to disavow it if it should prove to be adverse. It was an honest, though not altogether a safe, position in case of success. General Taylor was made President, and simultaneously Mr. Seward was, for the first time, transferred from the field of State to that of National affairs. He came into the Sen- ate of the United States, not to leave it for tweh^e years. He came under circumstances of no trifling embarrassment. The new President was at the time utterly unknown to the public men, and especially to him. He had been elected by a party still greatly divided in sentiment upon the grave questions about to come up for a decision. The chance of the pre- t ponderance of a policy favorable to freedom was by no means Hattering. An inexperienced President is obliged to consume much of his early days in office in correcting the mistakes he commits, before he gets to an understanding with his advisers. I am very sure that Mr. Seward felt for some time quite uncertain what the issue would be. Every thing depended upon the natural powers of General Taylor to distinguish the true from the false path. Happily for Mr. Seward, he determined to be a-uided bv his counsel. A tract of territory had been acquired by the war far more spacious than had been contemplated by the originators of the policy, and now the question came up whether all of the excess should be dedi- cated to the use of freemen, or of masters and serv- ants, as Texas had been. In other words, should slavery be tolerated and extended indefinitely.? Early measures had been taken to pave the way for it, by abrogating such portions of the existing Mex- ican law as might seem in confiict with it. But the President determined to give no countenance to that policy, and Mr. Seward was left at liberty to come forward at once as an independent champion of freedom. It was a critical moment in the great struggle, out of which the Government was to issue either as an oligarchy, controlling all things in the interest ot 32 The Address. a class, or else in a fuller development in harmony with the declared objects of its first construction. A remarkable number of men of superior abilities had been collected in the Senate just at this moment, all of whom had grown gray under the existing organization of parties, and were little dis- posed to favor innovations. Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Clay, though widely differing on other points, equally relucted at the agitation of slavery. Mr. Webster, on his part, never could make up his mind to meet it fully in the face. All manifested a desire to resort once more to some form of compromise, synony- mous with a practical concession to the slave-holding pretensions. The immediate question was upon the admission of the newly-acquired Territory of Califor- nia into the Union as a free State. The advocates of slavery insisted upon tacking to it conditions inuring to the support of their system in other respects, as a consideration proper to be granted for their acquiescence. In other words, it was another bargain to uphold slavery. And now, for the first time, Mr. Seward came forth on the great national arena to try his strength against his formidable com- petitors. Three successive speeches — one on the I ith of March, the next on the 2d of July, and the last on the nth of September, of the year 1850 — displayed in the clearest light his whole policy on this vital subject. At the very outset he declared [5] 38 t The Address himself opposed to a compromise in any and all the forms in which it had been proposed; and he followed up the words with a close argument against each of those forms. He then went on boldly to grapple with the oft-repeated threats of disunion, as a con- sequence of emancipation, in a manner rarely heard before in that hall. Casting off the shackles of party discipline, he used these memorable words : " Here, then, is the point of my separation from both of these parties. I feel assured that slavery must give way, and will give way, to the salutary instructions of economy and to the ripening influences of human- ity; that emancipation is inevitable, and is near; that it may be hastened or hindered ; and, whether it shall be peaceful or violent, depends upon the question whether it be hastened or hindered: that all measures which fortify slavery or extend it tend to the consummation of violence ; all that check its extension and abate its strength tend to its peaceful extirpation. But I will adopt none but lawful, con- stitutional, and peaceful means to secure even that end ; and none such can I or will I forego" Pro- phetic words, indeed, which it would have been well had they been properly heeded at the time by the besotted men who, ten years later, rushed upon their own ruin. It was in this speech, also, that he enunciated the doctrine of a higher law than the Constitution, 04 The a DDRESS. which gave rise to an infinite amount of outcry from even a very respectable class of people, who were shocked at the license thought to be implied by such an appeal. But it seems to me that no truth is more obvious than this, that all powers of government and legislation are closely restricted within a limita- tion beyond which they cannot pass without being stripped of their force. This limitation may be purely material, or it may be moral, but in either case its power is similar, if not the same. It is a familiar story, which is told in the books, of Canute, the great Danish conqueror of Great Britain, that once, when his courtiers were vying with each other in magnifying their sense of his omnipotence, he simply ordered his chair to be approached to the advancing tide of the ocean, and loudly commanded the waves to retire. The flatterers understood the hint, and were abashed by this withering illustration of the " higher law." In the declaration of his policy in these three speeches Mr. Seward was substantially supporting what had been agreed upon as within the line of the administration of General Taylor. And, so far as it was successfully carried out under his auspices, it must be admitted that it greatly contributed to remedy the evils anticipated from the slave-holding intrigues of twenty years. He was now, to all out- ward appearance, on the top wave of fortune, not 88 The Address, unlikely to infuse into the national system a much more consistent system of principles than it had been its fortune to contain for many years. A single stroke from the higher law brought all his castle- building to the ground. A few days of illness, and the President was no more. To cite the words of an old poet : "Oil, frail estate of human things, And slippeiy hopes below ! Now, to our cost, your emptiness we l;nnw. Assurance here is never to be sought ; He toiled, he gained, but lived not to enjoy." Scarcely could a blow be more overwhelming. The loss of the President was, in due course, supplied by the accession of the Vice-President, Mr. Fillmore. But with him came in the conservative section of the party, which had never reposed confidence in Mr. Seward. From tiiat moment he was reduced once more to his old position as depending exclu- sively on his own powers, and had, as before, nothing to look for in official influence but opposition. The turn of things was decisive. The leading advocates of the policy of compromise freshened up to their labors, and the result was the adoption of a series of measures passing under that term, which the purblind authors fondly hoped would indefinitely postpone the earthquake, at the very moment rumbling under their feet. This memorable compact, entered into by three JHE JK DDRESS. of the most eminent of our statesmen in the present century — Mr. Calhoun, Mr. Clay, and Mr. Webster — will forever remain as a proof of their own infatua- tion, and of nothing else. They might just as well have attempted to stop the toirent of Niagara with a drag-net. One effect of this proceeding was soon made per- ceptible. It proved a death-blow to one of the party organizations. At the succeeding presidential elec- tion, the conservative section of the Whigs having failed in securing a nomination of a candidate to suit their views, rather than to vote for General Scott, understood to represent other sentiments, passed almost in mass over to the Democracy, and voted for Franklin Pierce. The result was, that the most insignificant and unworthy candidate ever yet presented to the suffrages of the people, in a con- tested election, was chosen by a greater majority than ever was given to the best. From this moment the course of things rapidly assumed a more natural and consistent shape. The new Administration was soon found to be entirely under the control of the ultra slave-holders, and the policy of forcing slavery into the unoccupied regions of the West was unscrupulously pushed with their connivance. With these proceedings began the ofreat reaction in the North and West. At last the election of 1856 displayed the fact that parties had The Address. thrown off disguises, and were placing themselves upon the real issues vital to the country. Although the result still favored the slave-holders, and James Buchanan was made to succeed Franklin Pierce, the severity of the struggle indicated but too plainly the beginning: of the end. From this moment the Republican party became the true antagonist to that domination. Mr. Seward now, for the first time, enjoyed the great advantage of being perfectly free from em- barrassments springing out of a union with paralyzing associates in the same party. He took the field with all his vigor, and the speeches which he made, both in the Senate and before the people, remain to testify to his powers, and his success. The effects of the new union, reenforced by the extreme policy adopted by the opposite side, were made perceptible in the steady increase of the minorities in both Houses of Congress. The opening of the Thirty-sixth Congress showed that in the popular branch the Republican party counted a plurality of the members. After a long-continued struggle, they succeeded in electing their Speaker. It looked as if the hand- writing would soon be visible on the wall. Then came the moment when a candidate of the party, at last thoroughly organized, was to be nomi- nated for the presidency of 1861. Mr. Seward, in his ten years of service in the Senate, had completely 88 The Address. developed his capacity as a great leader in difficult times. With the singular mixture of boldness and moderation which distinguished him from all others, he had maintained his ground against all the assaults made upon him by the ablest of the slave-holding statesmen in their stronghold of the Senate. He had known how to pursue that narrow path between license in discussion on the one hand, and personal altercation on the other, which is so seldom faith- fully adhered to by public men, especially when cunning fencers are ever lying in wait to entrap them. He had also enjoyed the benefit of ex- perience in his administration while Governor of New York, which had made him familiar as well with executive as with legislative forms of business. The older men of great note had vanished, so as to make his party prominence more marked than ever. As a consequence, when the nominating convention assembled at Chicago, the eyes of all were turned toward him as the candidate, of all others, the most distinguished by the qualities that recommend people to high places. A large plurality had been chosen as delegates friendly to him, and the general expec- tation was that he would be nominated at once. But it was remembered that, in 1844, Henry Clay was defeated because he had a long record of public service, from which many marked sayings and doings might be quoted to affect impressible waverers, 39 The Address. and James K. Polk was elected because nobody could quote any thing against him, for the reason that he had never said or done any thing worth quoting at all. Furthermore, the ghosts of the higher law and of the irrepressible conflict flitted about to alarm excited imaginations. Last but not least came in the element of bargain and manage- ment, manipulated by adepts at intrigue, which is almost inseparable from similar assemblies. The effect of all these influences united was to turn the tide at last, and Mr. Seward, the veteran champion of the reforming policy, was set aside in favor of a gentleman as little known by any thing he had ever done as the most sanguine friend of such a selection could desire. The fact is beyond contradiction that no person, ever before nominated with any reason- able probability of success, had had so little of public service to show for his reward. Placing myself in the attitude of Mr. Seward, at the moment when the news of so stranare a decision would reach his ears, I think I might, like Amicus, in the play, have moralized for an instant on man's ingratitude, and been warned by the example of Aristides, or even the worse fate of Barneveld and the two De Witts, not to press further in a career in which the strong were to be ostracized, because of their strength, and the weak were to be pushed into places of danger, on the score of their feeble- The Address ness. To be elected for the reason that a person has V never done any thing to display his powers of use- fulness to bring about positive results, would seem to be like making elevation to power the prize of the greatest insignificance. Under such circum- stances, a successful man might fairly infer that the selection of himself implied, on its face, rather an insult than a compliment. But Mr. Seward, when he heard of it, did not reason on this low level. That he deeply felt such a refusal to recognize the value of his long and earnest labors in a perilous cause, I have every reason to believe. For it was precisely at this moment that the intimacy with which he sometime honored me dates its commencement. I had been long watchinaf his course with the deepest interest, sometimes fearful lest he might bend toward the delusive track of expediency, at others impatient at his calmness in moments fit to call out the fire of Demosthenes, yet, on the whole, if I may be so bold as to confess it, fastened to his footsteps by the conviction that he alone, of all others, had most marked himself as a disciple of the school in which I had been bred myself In this state of mind I had indulged a strong hope, not only that his splendid services would meet with a just acknowledgment, but that his future guidance might be depended on in the event of critical conjunctures. [6] 4.1 JHE / DDRESS. I was at the time in tlie public service at Wash- ington, and much cast down on hearing of the result. Mr. Seward had been at Auburn, and was just returned. I had not seen the answer to his friends, written from that place on the 31st of May, signifying his ready acquiescence in the result, and, if I had, I might not have put entire trust in it as a full expres- sion of his inmost heart. The day after his return he called in his carriage at my door and asked me to get in and drive with him to the Capitol. He had never done this before, but I promptly accepted his offer. Full of disgust at the management con- trived to defeat his nomination, I did not hesitate in expressing it to him in the most forcible terms. But I found no corresponding response. I saw that he had been grievously disappointed, and that he felt the blow so effectually aimed at him. But he gave no sound of discontent. On the contrary, he calmly deprecated all similar complaints, and at once turned my attention to the duty of heartily accepting the situation for the sake of the cause. The declaration of principles put forth by the convention was per- fectly satisfactory, and it now became his friends to look only to the work of securing their establish- ment. Such was the burden of the conversation for the greater part of the way. The tone was just the same as that in the public letter, while the language was 42 The Address. more simple and unreserved. To me it was a revela- tion of the moral superiority of the man. I had heard so much in my time of the management attributed to New York politicians, from the days of Aaron Burr to those of Martin Van Buren, that I should not have been surprised to find him indulg- ing in some details of the causes of his failure. But there was not a word. An experience like this drove me at once to the conclusion that, if such deportment as this passed under the denomination of manage- ment in New York, I should be glad to see its definition of magnanimity. Neither were these merely brave words followed up by inaction or indifference. Mr. Seward entered into the canvass in behalf of his rival with the utmost energy. I was myself a witness and com- panion through a large part of his journey in the West. His speeches, made at almost every central point, indicate, not simply the fertility of his powers, but the fidelity with which he applied them to the purpose in hand. They still remain with us to testify for him themselves. The election followed, making a new era in the history of this republic. The slave-holding power, which had governed for more than thirty years, had at last ceased to control. No sooner was the result known, than South Carolina lifted the banner of secession, not having chosen to wait for any assign- 43 JHE / DDRESS. able cause of liiicvance. Congress assembled at Wasliinuton to hold the last session under the administration of Mr. Buchanan. Tied hand and foot bv the conditions under which he had received his nomination four years before, his course had been faltering and uncertain, meriting praise neither for prudence nor patriotism. A strong appeal, immedi- atelv put forth, to the sound sense and sterling principles of the honest, independent citizens of the countrv, without regard to party, backed up by an immediate preparation, quietly made, of the means at hand to maintain public order, in any contin- gency, might even then have put in check the ten- dency of multitudes to plunge into evil counsels. It does not appear that any thing of the kind was ever thought of Treason iiad crept into the very heart of the cabinet, and a policy had been secretly at work to paralyze ratiier than to fortify the re- sources of the Executive. Every thing was drifting at the mercy of the winds and waves. One single hour of the will displayed by General Jackson, at the time when Mr. Calhoun, the most powerful leader secession ever had, was abetting active meas- ures, would have stifled the fire in its cradle. But it was not to be. The evil came from the misfor- tune of a weak President in a perilous emergency. Instead of taking this course, a message was sent to Congress by Mr. Buchanan, lamenting the fact of The Address. wliat he chose to call a secession of several States, hut coupling with it a denial of any power to coerce them. This was in its essence an abandonment ot all right to control popular resistance in that form. In the condition things were at that moment, with a cabinet divided, and both branches of the Legislature utterly without spirit to concert measures, the effect was .equivalent to disintegration. Disaffection be- came rife everywhere south of Mason and Dixon's line. And, in the city of Washington itself, it became difficult to find, among the residents, persons wholly free from it. Rumors of some impending cot(p d'e^a^ vaguely floated in eveiy breeze. From communica- tions made to me by persons likely to know, I have every reason to think such projects were entertained by the class of more desperate adventurers. A plan of attacking the Constitution in its weakest part, the form of declaring the election of President in the month of February, had been gravely con- sidered. Happily for the public peace, there was no leader at hand equal to the consummation of any such enterprise, so that more moderate counsels, based upon the not unreasonable confidence that victory was more sure by letting matters take their course, prevailed. If such was the condition of the disaffected party, it was scarcely better with the loyal side. The President-elect was still at home in Illinois, giving 48 The Address. no signs of life, and there was no one of the faithful men vested with authority to speak or act in his behalf That something ought to be done to keep the control of the capital, and bridge over the inter- val before the 4th of March in peace and quiet, was manifest. It was no time to go into consultations that would inevitably lead to delays, if not to dissen- sions. Neither was it wise to spread uneasiness and alarm. In this emergency, I have it in my power to speak only of what I know Mr. Seward effected on his sole responsibility. Of his calmness in the midst of difficulty, of his fertility in resource, of his courage in at once breaking up the remnants of party ties, and combining, as firmly as he could, trusty men, whether in the cabinet, in the army, in the municipal boards, or elsewhere, to secure the object of keeping every thing steady, I had abun- dant evidence. The hearty cooperation of Gen- eral Scott, then Commander-in-Chief, although suiTounded by less than even lukewarm assistants, proved of the highest value. The day is, perhaps, not yet come, if it ever does, when all the details of these operations will be disclosed. But, if it should, it will only add one more to the many causes of gratitude due by the country to the memory of Mr. Seward. But, out of all the sources of anxiety and distrust heaped up in this most fearful interval, that which 46 The Address. appeared to many the most appalling was the fact that we were about to have, for our guide through this perilous strife, a person selected partly on account of the absence of positive qualities, so far as was known to the public, and absolutely without the advantage of any experience in national affairs, beyond the little that can be learned by an occupa- tion for two years of a seat in the House of Repre- sentatives. The selection of Mr. Polk and Mr. Pierce, on the same principle, though in a less degree, for both of them had seen far more of serv- ice, had been, in a measure, justified to the country by their prompt recourse to the best-trained men of the party, as supports and guides, in the cabinet. But this was in times of profound internal quiet when the State machinery moved almost of itself; while, in this emergency, every wheel appeared clogged, and even the tenacity of the whole fabric was seriously tested. Neither was it any source of confidence to find that day passed after day, and not a syllable of intelligence came. It was clear, at least to me, that our chances of safety would rest upon an executive council composed of the wisest and most experienced men that could be found. So it seemed absolutely indispensable, on every account, that not only Mr. Seward should have been early secured in a prominent post, but that his advice, at least, should have been asked in regard to the com- { 47 The Address. plclion of Ihc organization. The value of sucli counsel in securing harmony in poHcy is too well understood lo need explanation. But Mr. Lincoln as yet knew Htlle of all this. His mind had not even opened to lln- nature of the crisis. From his secluded al)ode in the heart of Illinois, he was only taking the measure of geographical relati(Mis and party services, and heginning his operations where others comnionlv leave otf, at the; snialler end. Hence it was not until some time in the session that lie disclosed his intention to place Mr. Seward in tlic most prominent place. So doubtful had some of Mr. Seward's friends been made, by this proceeding, of I lie spirit of the Presiilent, that they were dis- posed to advise him not to assvmie any responsibilit}' uniler him. At least, this was the substance of what 1 understootl him to sav, when he was pleased to ask of me my sentiments. My answer was very short. No matter what the manner of the offer, his duty was to take the post. At the same time, it was quite eli^ar to me that he stood in no need of my counsel. 1 should have mistaken his chai'actcr if he had hesitated. Let me not be undei-stood as desiring to say a word in a spirit of derogation from the memory of Abraham Lincoln. He afterward proved himself before the world a pure, brave, capable and honest man, faithful to his arduous task, and laying down The Address. his life at the last as a penalty for his country's safety. At the same time, it is the duty of history, in dealing with all human action, to do strict justice in discrim- inating between persons, and by no means to award to one honors that clearly belong to another. I must, then, affirm without hesitation that, in the history of our Government down to this hour, no experiment so rash has ever been made as that of elevating to the head of affairs a man with so little previous prepara- tion for his task as Mr. Lincoln. If this be true of him in regard to the course of domestic administra- tion, with which he might be supposed partially familiar, it is eminently so in respect to the foreign relations, of which he knew absolutely nothing. Furthermore, he was quite deficient in his acquaint- ance with the character and qualities of public men, or their aptitude for the positions to which he assigned them. Indeed, he seldom selected them solely by that standard. Admitting this to be an accurate statement, the difficulties in the way of Mr. Seward on his assuming the duties of the foreign department may be readily imagined. The imme- diate reorganization of the service abroad was im- 1 eratively demanded at all points. The chief posts had been filled before that time with persons either lukewarm in the struggle or else positively sympa- thizing with the disaffected. One consequence had been the formation of impressions upon the repre- 'i m 49 JHE / DDRESS. sentativ'cs of foreign governments calculated in some measure to mislead their policy Some were not unwilling to assume the question as already prede- termined, and to prepare to accommodate themselves to the result of a divided sovereignty Others were inclined only to watch the phenomena attending the dissolution, in order to adapt their policy to the variations, and take advantage of opportunities. Besides which, the failure of the greatest ex- periment of self-government ever made by a people was not without its effect upon every calcula- tion of possibilities nearer home. It may, then, be easily conceived what an effect could be pro- duced in all quarters by the equivocal, half- hearted tone prevailing among the American agents themselves. Yet, assuming it to be indispensable that the foreign seiTice should be reorganized, a very grave difficulty forthwith presented itself. The Republican party had been so generally in opposition that but few of its prominent members had had any advan- tages of experience in office. And, in the foreign service especially, experience is almost indispensable to usefulness. Mr. Seward himself came into the State Department with no acquaintance with the forms of business other than that obtained inciden- tally through his service in the Senate. He had not had the benefit of official presence abroad, an advan- 80 The Address. tage by no means trifling in conducting the foreign affairs. A still greater difficulty was that, within the range of selection to fill the respective posts abroad, hardly any person could be found better provided in this respect than himself Moreover, the President, in distributing his places, did so with small refer- ence to the qualifications in this particular line. It was either partisan service, or geographical position, or the length of the lists of names to commendatory papers, or the size of the salary, or the unblushing pertinacity of personal solicitation, that wrung from him many of his appointments. Yet, considering the nature of all these obstacles, it must be ad- mitted that most of the neophytes acquitted them- selves of their duty with far more of credit than could have been fairly expected from the commence- ment. I attribute this good fortune mainly to the sense of heavy responsibihty stimulated by the peril of the country, and the admirable lead given by their chief The marvelous fertility of his pen spread itself at once over every important point on the globe, and the lofty firmness of his tone infused a spirit of unity of action such as had never been witnessed before. The effect of this was that, from a state of utter demoralization at the outset, the foreign service rapidly became the most energetic and united organization thus far made abroad. The evidence of this will remain patent in the archives 81 The Address. of the nation so long as they shall be suffered to endure. It may be questioned whether any head of an executive department ever approached Mr. Seward in the extent and minuteness of the instructions he was constantly issuing during the critical period of the war. While necessarily subject to imperfection consequent upon the rapidity with which he wrote, his papers will occasion rather surprise at their gen- eral excellence than at any casual defects they may contain. Exception has been taken to his manner on some occasions as not in the best taste. And wiseacres have commented on his failure of sagacity in making over-confident predictions. But what was he to do in the face of all the nations of the earth ? Was it to doubt, and qualify, and calculate probabilities } Would such a course have helped to win their confidence? I trow not. In the very darkest hour his clarion-voice rang out more sharp and clear in full faith of the triumph of the great cause than even in the moment of its complete success. And the consequence is, that the fame of William H. Seward as a sagacious statesman is more widely spread over every part of the globe than that of any other in our history. But, great as were the services of Mr. Seward in his own peculiar department, it would be a mistake to infer that they were restricted within that limit. The Address. I now come to a point where what appears to me to have been one of his greatest qualities, is to be set forth. It is impossible for two persons, in the rela- tions of the President and the Secretary of State, to go on long together without taking a measure of their respective powers. Mr. Lincoln could not fail soon to perceive the fact that, whatever estimate he might put on his own acute judgment, he had to deal with a superior in native intellectual power, in extent of acquirement, in breadth of philosophical experience, and in the force of moral discipline. On the other hand, Mr. Seward could not have been lonsf blind to the deficiencies of the chief in these respects, however highly he might value his integrity of purpose, his shrewd capacity, his vigorous ratioci- nation, and his generous and amiable disposition. The effect of these reciprocal discoveries could scarcely have been other than to undermine confi- dence, and to inspire suspicion in the weaker party of danger from the influence of the stronger. He might naturally become jealous of the imputation of being led, and fearful lest the labors of his secretary might be directed to his own aggrandizement at his expense. On the other hand, Mr. Seward might not find it difficult to penetrate the character of these speculations, and foresee their probable effect in abridging his powers of usefulness, and, perhaps, unsettling the very foundation of his position, should S3 ambitious third parties scent the opportunities to edge him out. Whether all that I have here described did or did not happen, I shall not be so bold as to say. But one thing I know, and this was, that, in order to cut up by the roots the possibility of misunderstanding from such causes, Mr. Seward deliberately came to the conclusion to stifle every sensation left in him of aspiration in the future, by establishing a distinct understanding with the President on that subject. The effect of this act of self-abnegation was soon apparent in the steady subsequent union of the parties. Thus it happened that Mr. Seward volun- tarily dismissed forever the noblest dreams of an ambition he had the clearest right to indulge, in exchange for a more solid power to direct affiiirs for the benefit of the nation, through the name of another, who should yet appear in all later time to reap the honors due chiefly to his labors. I am not going to touch upon the incidents of the great war. It is enough to say that Gettysburg and Vicksburg turned the tide ; and the Administration had nothing more to fear from popular distrust. The election confirmed it in power, and little was left to do but to heal the wounds inflicted, and restore the blessed days of peace and prosperity. Scarcely had the necessary measures been matured, and Fortune begun once more to smile, when the hand of an B4 The Address. assassin, unerring in its instinctive sagacity, vented all the rage of the baffled enemy upon the heads of the two individuals, of all others, who most distinctly symbolized the emancipation of the slave and the doom of the master's pride. Then followed a suc- cessor to the chair, sadly wanting in the happiest qualities of his predecessor, but readily moulded to the very same policy which had been inaugurated by him. In his earnestness to save it, Mr. Seward sub- ordinated himself just as before. But the change of person proved little less disastrous to his hopes than it had been sixteen years before in the case of General Taylor. Nevertheless, he steadily and bravely ad- hered to the chief, for the sake of the policy, to the last, and quietly bore the odium of a failure he had no power to avert. It would have been worth all it cost, could he have succeeded. But, as it was, rarely has it been the fate of the same statesman to meet with two successive instances of such human vicis- situdes. In the spring of 1 869 he bade a last farewell to public life. The veteran who had fought for years for the establishment of the great principles of liberty, clear of all hampering compromises, who bore on his front the gash received because he had worked too well — a scar which would have made a life-long political fortune for any purely military man — was permitted to repair in silence to his home, now S3 JHE / DDRESS. lonely from the loss of those who had made it his delight, with fewer marks of recognition of his bril- liant career than he would have had if he had been the most insignificant of our Presidents. Such is one more example of the fate that awaits "those who hang on princes' favors," whether the sovereign be one or be many. And now his native State having bestowed on him all the honors within her gift during his life, with the natural pride in the career of so great a son, has sought outside of her borders for one of the humblest of his disciples to cull a few fleeting flowers and spread them on his grave. While I do honor to this manifestation on her part, I trust I may be pardoned for remembering that he did not save the State alone — HE SAVED THE NATION. Let me turn from this subject to the more agree- able task of pointing out to you some peculiar qualities of Mr. Seward, which merit close attention in any view taken of his character. Of these the most marked was his indomitable courage. By superficial observers among his contemporaries, the breadth of his popular theory was set down as little more than the agitation not unusual with most of our ordinary demagogues. Hence the prejudices more or less imbibed by many of his own party, and others who knew nothing of him personally. Yet B6 The Address. the fact is indisputable that very few pubhc men in our history can be cited who have shown so much iuditference, in running directly counter to the popu- lar passions when highly excited, as he did. And in such action it is clear that he could have been prompted by no motive other than the highest of personal duty. Hitherto, I have treated only of his public life. I now propose to touch on his professional career, to which, though not attractive to him, he steadily adhered so long as it was practicable. Had he devoted himself to it exclusively, I have not a shadow of doubt he would have attained a position of the very first rank. I dwell on it now only in connection with a single case which will serve to illustrate as well his courage as his power. This is the case of the miserable negro William Freeman. The fact of his murdering at night all the members of a highly-respectable family in the neighborhood of Auburn, without any apparent motive, is too well remembered here to this day to need repeating the horrible details. It is sufficient to say that the passions of the people in all the country round about were fearfully but not unnaturally aroused. They demanded immediate justice with so much vehemence that, from fear of violence, extraordinary measures were resorted to by the State authorities to hasten the trial, in the very vicinity of the outrage. In the 18] 87 The ^ddress. State prison at Auburn it had so happened that, shortly before, a white convict had killed one of his associates. He had called upon Mr. Seward to defend him at his trial, and he had consented to appear. This act of his had not been viewed favor- ably in the neighborhood. But, when the crime of the negro was soon aftenvard divulged, the popular indignation rose to such a height that it was with much difficulty he could be conveyed in safety to the jail. So great was the rage, that nothing but the public declaration of one of the county judges, made on the spot, not only that he must certainly be executed, but also that " no Governor Seward would interpose to defend him," availed to shelter him from summary vengeance. Immediately after- ward, the law partners of Mr. Seward assumed the responsibility of confirming that promise of the judge, without consulting him. At that moment Mr. Seward had happily been absent from home. But, when he was expected to return, there was great anxiety among his friends and relatives, lest he should meet with insult, if not positive outrage, in his transit froiri the railway-station to his house. The excitement had scarcely abated when the two cases came up for trial. In the first, Mr. Seward endeavored to procure a postponement, but it was in vain. The popular feeling would not submit to it. With the utmost difficulty were per- The Address. sons found fitted to make a jury. The argument rested on the insanity of the prisoner. But it carried no weight. Within a month the convict was tried, condemned, and executed. In this instance Mr. Seward had performed his part in the regular course of professional service. But, when the offense of the wretched creature Freeman was about to be submitted to the consideration of the court, it immediately appeared that not a soul of the large crowd present entertained the smallest sympathy for him. He was told that he might have the assistance of counsel if he would ask for it. His answer indi- cated utter ignorance of the meaning of the words. Under such circumstances what was to be done to comply with forms of law 7 There was a solemn pause in that thronged assembly. At last the silence was broken by the judge, who, addressing the pro- fessional men before him, asked, in a hopeless tone, "WILL anyone defend this man?" And here again was a breathless pause, broken at last by a quiet movement of a solitary man, as he rose in his place, who, in the face of the eager crowd, briefly replied, " May it please the court, / appear as counsel for the prisoner." This volunteer was William Henry Seward, the very man whom the excited multitude had already warned not to interpose to defend him. 59 The Address. I know not what others may think of this simple picture, but, in my humble view, it presents a scene of moral sublimity rarely to be met with in the paths of our ordinary life. At this juncture, had William H. Seward been found anywhere at night alone, and unprotected by the powerful law-abiding habits of the region about him, his body would probably have been discovered in the morning hang- ing from the next tree. What motive could have impelled him to encounter so much indignation for this act ? He had been not at all insensible to the pleasure of popularity in public life. Here he was not only injuring his own interests, but that of the party with which he was associated. In vain did it labor to disavow all connection or sympathy with him. The press on all sides thundered its denunci- ations over his head. The elections all went one way. The Democratic party came sweepingiy into the ascendant. And all about the life of a negro idiot } I think I do not exaggerate in expressing an humble opinion, that the argument in the defense is one of the most eloquent ever made in the language. I have no time to dwell on it, further than to quote a few passages assigning his reason for his conduct : " For William Freeman as a murderer, I have no commission to speak. If he had silver and gold accumulated, with the frugality of a Croesus, and The Address, should pour it all at my feet, I would not stand an hour between him and his avenger. But for the innocent, it is my right — it is my duty — to speak. If this sea of blood was innocently shed, then it is my duty to stand beside him, until his steps lose their hold upon the scaffold. 'Thou shalt not kill' is a commandment, addressed not to him alone, but to me, to you, to the court, and to the whole community. There are no exceptions from that commandment, at least, in civil life, save those of self-defense, and capital punishment for crime in the due and just administration of the law. There is not only a question, then, whether the prisoner has shed the blood of his fellow-man, but the question whether we shall unlawfully shed his blood. I should be guilty of murder if, in my present relation, I saw the executioner waiting for an insane man, and failed to say or failed to do, in his behalf, all that my abil- ity allowed." And again he says : " I am arraigned before you for undue manifestations of zeal and excitement. My answer to all such charges shall be brief When this cause shall have been committed to you, I shall be happy indeed if it shall appear that my only error has been that I felt too much, thought too intensely, or acted too faithfully." But the significant and most eloquent passage is this : " I plead not for a murderer. I have no induce- 61 The Address. ment, no motive to do so. I have addressed my fellow-citizens in many various relations, when re- wards of wealth and fame awaited me. I have been cheered on other occasions by manifestations of popular approbation and sympathy ; and, where there was no such encouragement, I had at least the grati- tude of him whose cause I defended. But I speak now in the hearing of a people who have prejudged the prisoner, and condemned me for pleading in his behalf He is a convict, a pauper, a negro, without intellect, sense, or emotion. My child, with an atfec- tionate smile, disarms my care-worn face of its frown whenever I cross my threshold. The beggar in the street obliges me to give, because he says ' God bless you ' as I pass. My dog caresses me with fondness if 1 will but smile on him. My horse recognizes me when I fill his manger. But what reward, what gratitude, what sympathy and affection can I expect here ? There the prisoner sits ; look at him. Look at the assemblage around you. Listen to their ill- suppressed censures and their excited fears, and tell me where among my neighbors or my fellow-men, where even in his heart can I expect to find the sentiment, the thought, not to say of reward or acknowledgment, but even of recognition. I sat here two weeks during the preliminary trial. I stood here between the prisoner and the juiy nine hours, and pleaded for the wretch that he was insane, and 62 The Address. he did not even know he was on trial. And when all was done, the jury thought — at least eleven of them thought — that I had been deceiving them, or was self-deceived. They read signs of intelligence in his idiotic smile, and of cunning and malice in his stolid insensibility. They rendered a verdict that 'he was sane enough to be tried' — a contemptible compro- mise verdict in a capital case — and then they looked, with what emotions God and they only know, upon his arraignment. The District Attorney, speaking in his adder-ear, bade him rise, and, read- ing to him one indictment, asked him whether he wanted a trial, and the poor fool answered ' No.' ' Have you counsel 7 ' 'No.' And they went through the same mockery, the prisoner giving the same answers, until a third indictment was thundered in his ears, and he stood before the court silent, motionless, and bewildered. Gentlemen, you may think of this evidence, bring in what verdict you can, but I asseverate before Heaven and you that, to the best of my knowledge and belief, the prisoner at the bar does not at this moment know why it is that my shadow falls on you instead of his own. I speak with all sincerity and earnestness, not because I ex- pect my opinion to have weight, but I would disarm the injurious impression that I am speaking merely as a lawyer speaks for his client. I am not the pris- oner's lawyer. I am, indeed, a volunteer in his behalf. 63 JHE / DDRESS. But society and mankind have the deepest interests at stake. I am the kivvyer for society, for mankind, shocked beyond the power of expression at the scene I have witnessed here, of trying a maniac as a malefactor." There cannot be a doubt that, in this statement of his motives, Mr. Seward uttered nothing more than the simple truth. It was to rescue from violation tlie broad principle of morals, that guilt can only be measured by responsibility in the reciprocal relations of the human race. Yet, the jury brought in a ver- dict against the prisoner, and the judge pronounced the sentence of execution. Nothing daunted by all this, Mr. Seward persisted in interposing every pos- sible dilatory measure, until the evidence of the con- dition of the man gradually forced itself so vividly upon the conviction of the very judge who had tried and condemned him, that, when officially called upon to go over the work once more, he declined it as impracticable. Mr. Seward was now clearly proved to have been right, so far as his action had gone before the law. But, when the time came for the end of Freeman by a natural death, seven phy- sicians of the vicinity were summoned to a post- mortem examination of his brain, and the result at which they arrived was that it displayed indications of deep, chronic disease. Mr. Seward had been right from the start. He had upheld a broad general 64 The Address. principle at enormous personal hazard, and he never received the smallest return for it, excepting in the satisfaction to his own conscience of a work faith- fully performed. I pass from this illustration of the resolute will and courage of the man, to another of a wholly dif- ferent and still higher kind. I shall not weary your patience by going over the well-known details of the seizure by our gallant countryman. Admiral Wilkes, of the two rebel emissaries, Mason and Slidell, by forcibly taking them from a British passenger- steamer, then on her way over the high seas to a British port. You can all remember how much delighted every body was with the news. Few stopped to think of the possible consequences as affectinof the rio^hts of neutral nations. Some erro- neous precedents were published in the journals which quieted possible doubts. Admiral Wilkes immediately received the official approbation of the House of Representatives and the Secretary of the Navy, and rose in a moment to the height of a popular hero. Crowded public meetings everywhere joined in their acclamations, proudly exultant at the gallant deed. On the other hand, the effect of the violent proceeding, when divulged in Great Britain, no one had a better opportunity to under- stand than I myself It was at once presumed to have been authorized by the Government, so that [91 63 The Address. no course was regarded as left to the ministry other than to demand immediate satisfaction for the insult. War was considered as inevitable ; hence provision was promptly made by many to remove American property out of the risk of confiscation, The dock-yards resounded by night as well as by day with the ring of the hammers, fitting out the largest iron-clads, and orders went forth to assemble the most available troops for immediate embarkation to the points in America closest upon our northern border. A cabinet council was j)romi:)tly assembled. Four dispatches were drawn up on the same day, the 30th of November, three of them addressed to the British minister at Wash- ington, Ltnd Lyons, and one to the Lords Commis- sioners of the Admiralty. All of them distinctly anticipated an immediate rupture, and made pro- vision for the event. One of these, very carefully prepared, instructed Lord Lyons to protest against the offensive act, and, in case the Secretary of State should not voluntarily offer redress by a delivery of the men, to make a demand of their restoration. The second directed Lord Lyons to permit of no delay of an affirmative answer beyond seven days. Should no such answer appear within that time, his lordship was formally instructed to withdraw with all his legation and all the archives of the legation, and to make iht; best of his way to Lon- 66 The Address. don. The fourth letter, addressed to the Admiralty, contained instructions to prepare all the naval officers stationed in America for the breaking out of hostilities. Looking at these proceedings as calmly as I can from our present point of view, it seems impossible for me to doubt that the issue of this peremptory demand had been already prejudged by her Majesty's ministers. They did not themselves believe that the men would be restored. Hence what seems to me the needless offensiveness of these preliminaries prompted, no doubt, by the violence of the popular feeling, which would insist upon an immediate dis- play of what would be called a " proper spirit." Yet, had it been judged possible to await for a few days the reception of official intelligence, then on its way from Washington, these gentlemen would have learned from Mr. Seward that they were precipitate in their action at least, and wholly without a basis in presuming evil intentions. Moreover, they would have had the assurance that the act was without authority, and that the Government was ready to listen to any reasonable representation that might be forthcoming. It thus appears that her Majesty's Government had placed themselves at the outset in a false position, needlessly offensive, and only prov- ocative of war without a cause. For the peremp- tory nature of the overture, however clothed in 67 The Address. moderate terms, merely complicated the difficulty of responding in any tone that would at all quiet the excited temper of the American people. It was the writing of that preliminary dispatch that saved the dignity of the country. Mr. Seward could point to it to prove that his action, when finally taken, had not been prompted by intimida- tion. The precipitate British course had betrayed the rudeness of distrust, and nothing more. He had been ready to hear and discuss the question impartially, end solely on its merits. But the people of the Unitea States had thought of none of these things. They were satisfied with the fancied glory of the deed, and \'ery far from disposed to sanction the smallest recantation. As to the demand for the surrender of the men, the thing was not to be thought of They must be retained at any hazard. Such was the universal sense, and it is this which generally controls the actions of those who hold office in a popular government. Yet the fact was to me clear from the first that the act was not justifiable. Many of the most enlightened neutral nations had signified as much in a friendly way, and had wished to open to us some easy method of retreat. A war with Great Britain to maintain an unsound principle, merely because the people made a hero of Admiral Wilkes, would probably have ended in a triumph of the rebellion and a perma- The Address. ,^ nent disruption of the Union, furnishing ever after a new example with which " to point a moral and adorn a tale." When the time came for the assem- bly of the cabinet to decide upon an answer to Great Britain, not a sign had been given by the President or any of the members favorable to con- cession. Mr. Seward, who had been charged with the official duty of furnishing the expected answer, assumed the responsibility of preparing his able argument upon which a decision was predicated to surrender the men. Upon him would have rested the whole weight of the popular indignation had it proved formidable. If I have been rightly in- formed, when read, it met with but few comments and less approbation. On the other hand, there was no resistance. Silence gave consent. It was the act of Mr. Seward, and his name was to be chiefly associated with it, whether for good or for evil. That name will ever stand signed at the foot of the dispatch. In my firm belief that act saved the unity of the nation. It was like the fable of the Roman Curtius, who leaped into the abyss which could have been closed in no other way. The people acquiesced rather than approved, and to this day they have never manifested any sign of gratitude whatever. In 1869 Mr. Seward returned home to Auburn, the wreck of his former self The continuous con- es The Address. flicts of twenty years, and especially those of the last eight, with the assassin's knife, had told heavily on his frame. That home, too, was no longer what it had been, when the gifted partner of his life and a beloved daughter spread over it sunshine and joy, in peaceful times. Worst of all, the symptoms of a subtle disease, creeping slowly from the extremities, came to warn him that repose would be synony- mous with decay. Nothing daunted, he determined to fight the enemy to the last. He undertook the laborious task of a journey around the globe. What he modestly and yet sadly says of it himself is found in the reply he made to the welcome given him by his neighbors and friends on his return : " I have had a long journey, which, in its inception, seemed to many to be eccentric, but I trust that all my neighbors and friends are now satisfied that it was reasonable. I found that, in returning home to the occupations which were before me, I was expected to enjoy rest from labors and cares which were thought to have been oppressive and severe. I found, that, at my age, and in my condition of health, ' rest was rust,' and nothing remained to prevent rust but to keep in motion. I selected the way that would do the least harm, give the least offense, enable me to acquire the most knowledge, and increase the power, if any remained, to do good." The volume from which I quote, contain- The Address. ing a very interesting account of the travels of Mr. Seward, has been issued to the world since his decease. The turn of his mind, ever induleine in wide speculation upon the objects presented to his observation, is as clearly marked in this as it is in any of his earlier productions. Hence it is clear that, however impaired may have been his tene- ment of clay, the living principle within held out firmly to the last. This book likewise shows, though expressed in very modest language, that the fame of the great statesman had reached the remotest and most exclusive nations of the Eastern Hemis- phere, and had won for him — a simple private citizen — spontaneous recognitions such as hereto- fore, in those communities, have been extorted only by representatives of those sovereignties which they fear. And now the chief part of my work is done. I have tried to test the statesman by the highest standard known to mankind. His career covers the whole of what I designate as the second period of our history — that, pending which, the heaviest clog to freedom, a perilous legacy from our fore- fathers, was, after long and severe conflict, at last liappily removed. In this trial Mr. Seward played a great part. His mind, taking in the broadest view of practical popular government, never failed him in the useful application of his powers to the 71 The Address. removal of all adventitious obstructions to its development. He was never a mere theorist or dreamer of possibilities he could not reach. He speculated boldly, but he was an actor all the while, and effected results. It is in this sense that I think my narrative has established for him a just claim to the high position I assigned to him at my outset. He may not, indeed, rise to the full stature of the philosopher-statesman, " equal to the present, reach- ing forward to the futuie," never seen even in the palmy days of ancient Greece, or perhaps anywhere else, but at least he stands in the first rank of those admitted most nearly to approach it. But thus far I have considered him exclusively in his public life. The picture would scarcely seem complete, if I omitted a word about him as a man like all the rest of us. By nature he can scarcely be said to have been gifted with the advantage of an imposing presence, such as fell to the lot of Mr. Calhoun and Mr. Webster. Neither in face nor in figure would he have attracted particular notice, and both his voice and power of articulation were little favorable to the power of his elocution. Yet he had in a remarkable degree the faculty of fixing the hearer's attention — the surest test of oratorical superiority. His familiar conversation rarely kept in the dreary round of common-place, and often struck into original and instructive paths. His JHE / DDRESS. personal address was easy and careless, sometimes rather blunt. It lacked something of the polish of the most refined society, but there was a simplicity and heartiness in his genial hours that often brought one close to him in a moment. At times, when in good spirits, there seemed a superabundant glee, which spent itself in laughter springing from his own thoughts, more robust than could be wholly accounted for by any thing expressed. And yet it had a sympathetic power over the hearers almost irresistible. In his domestic relations he was pure and affectionate — ready to heed the monitions of a gifted and refined partner, and profit by her prudent counsel. Unhappily, her infirm health, breeding a strong inclination for retirement from the bustle and excitement of the society of Washington, ma- terially detracted from the influence, as well as the satisfaction, attending her husband's elevated posi- tion. Our forefathers would marvel could they imagine it possible for me to claim credit for Mr. Seward on the score of his honesty as a public man. Yet the time has come when we must honor one who never bought nor sold a vote or a place, and who never permitted his public action to be con- taminated in the atmosphere of corporation influ- ence. On that subject I had occasion to know his sentiments more than once. Above all, he was earnestly impressed with religious feeling, never [10] 73 The Address. making parade of it, but never omitting every proper occasion to make it suitably respected. One of his finest traits was the calmness with which he endured all the various political assaults made upon him by opponents, and often by those of his own side. Few persons of his time encountered more. It is the nature of power always to raise a body of resistance in a relative proportion to the force of its own movement. Then came also the day of complaints raised by the large class fated to be aggrieved by disappointed hopes or imagined offen- ses, the arrogant, the incompetent, the rapacious, the treacherous, and the unscrupulous, always to be found intrenched around every fountain of political favors. Mr. Seward was never tempted to elevate the position of such persons by controversy, or to profit by opportunities for merited retribution, even when clearly within his grasp. To his intimate friends he was deeply attached. One of these who survives him — may I say his fidus Achates — " It comes et paribus curis vestigia figit," whose singularly disinterested labor it has been to effect the elevation of others to power, and never his own, and to whose remarkable address I strongly suspect Mr. Seward owed many obligations of that kind, has been kind enough to submit to my perusal numbers of his confidential letters, received 74 The Address. during interesting periods in the writer's life, which have been collected and bound in volumes. I have closely examined them, as laying bare the most secret impulses of his mind and heart. Yet, highly confidential as they appear on their face to be, I could not detect a single passage which, for his sake, " I could wish to blot." The line of great statesmen in America may or may not stretch out, " In yon bright track that fires the western skies," to the crack of doom. But the memory of him who guided our course, through the most appalling tempest yet experienced in our annals, can scarcely fail to confront all future aspirants in the same honorable career, as an example which every one of them may imitate to his advantage, but which few can hope to be so fortunate as to excel. Legislative Proceedings. (2UARTETTE.~-"lnitgtx'V\ix:' ... Fleming. BLESSING. — By Rev. Bishop CoxE. Organ Dismission. Subsequent to the address the following resolu- tions, offered by Senator Perry, were unanimously adopted by the Senate and concurred in by the Assembly : Resolved, That the thanks of the Legislature of the State of New Yorli be tendered to the Hon, Charles Francis Adams, for the eloquent eulogium on the Ufe, character and services of ex-Governor William H. Seward, dehvered at the request of the Legislature, on the i8th day of April, inst., and that a copy of the address be requested for publication. Resolved, That a copy of these resolutions be forwarded to Mr. Adams, signed by the presiding officers and clerks of the Senate and Assembly. An engrossed copy of the above resolutions, duly authenticated, was subsequently forwarded to Mr. Adams by the joint committee, accompanied by the following letter: Letter to Mr. Adams, "state of new york: *' Senate Chamber, \ " Albany, May 12, 1S73. f " Hon. Charles Francis Adams : *^ Dear Sir — Herewith I have the honor to inclose the joint resolutions of thanks to yourself, adopted by the Senate and Assembly on the 29th ult. In addition, I beg leave, on behalf of the joint committee, to express to you their sincere acknowledg- ments for your kind acceptance of their invitation, and for the very complete and eloquent address delivered on the occasion. 76 Legislative Proceedings. '* Vou will observe that one of the resolutions contains a request that a copy of the address be furnished for publication. Entertaining the hope that you may be pleased to comply with this request, I have the honor to remain, Gratefully yours, *' JOHN C. PERRY, " Chairman o/yoi?it Committee.''^ The receipt of these resolutions was acknowledged by Mr. Adams as follows : Mr. Adams' Reply, ** QuiNCV, May 14, 1S73. " Hon. J. C. Perry, etc., etc. : "" Dear Sir — I have to acknowledge the reception of your letter of the 12th instant, and of the joint resolutions of the Senate and Assembly therein referred to. " I pray you to accept, in their behalf, my grateful thanks for the manner in which they have honored me. " In compliance with their request, I beg permission to transmit to you herewith a copy of the address revised for publication. **I have the honor to be, *' Your obdt. servt., "C. F. ADAMS." 77 .A^' ' \^ X> -s- r ,,S^^ ■ .^:^;%. '., . \- a\^' ■>:. ^. c^ .^^ ■'•;■ A"- =--. .^"^ ■■~^ '^', " oV ..c^- .-: ,^•< •< -■^..^ s A" ■v^^^ -**'■— l?*o '. x^ ''. 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