GIFT OF 
 
 
THE 
 
 LIFE, EULOGY, 
 
 AND 
 
 GREAT ORATIONS 
 
 OF 
 
 DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 TWENTIETH THOUSAND. 
 
 ROCHESTER: 
 WILBUR M. HAYWARD & CO., 4 BURNS BUILDING. 
 
 WHOLESALE AGENTS. 
 
 BOSTON: French & Co. NEW YORK: Dewitt <fe Davenport. 
 PHILADELPHIA: J. W. Moore. CHICAGO: Mellon & Co. 
 
 1854. 
 
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1853, by 
 
 LITTLE, BROWN AND COMPANY, 
 m the Clerk s Office of the District Court of the District of Massachusetts. 
 
 STEAM PRESS OF LEE, MANtf & CKX 
 
 Stereotyped by J. "W. Brown. 
 

Office of tM District 
 
 i Dist!i.c, 
 
TO THE 
 
 YOUNG MEN OF AMERICA, 
 
 IN WHOSE COMMAND AyD TKtTST 
 19 COMMITTED THE HONOR AND DESTINY OF THIS REPUBLIC, 
 
 THIS VOLUME, 
 EMBODYING AND TRANSMITTING THE 
 
 LOFTY ELOQUENCE AND SUBLIME PATRIOTISM, 
 
 OF 
 
 DANIEI, WEBSTER, 
 
 Is SfUjqjtctfuIIs Srirtcatefr ig i^ ^uilts^ti, 
 
 who sincerely trusts that they will adopt 
 AS A MOTTO AND STANDARD OF ACTION, 
 
 THAT IMMORTAL SENTENCE, 
 
 "Liberty and Union, now and forever, 
 one and inseparable," 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 Page. 
 
 LIFE OF DANIEL WEBSTER BY Louis GAYLORD CLARK,.... 3 
 EULOGY ON DANIEL WEBSTER BY WILBUR M. HAYWARD,. 59 
 
 ORATIONS ADAMS AND JEFFERSON, 73 
 
 FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND,... 95 
 
 BUNKER HILL MONUMENT, 123 
 
 SPEECH OF MR. HAYNE, 137 
 
 REPLY TO HAYNE, 171 
 
LIFE OF 
 
 DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 BY LOUIS GAYLORD CLARK. 
 
 IT has been suggested to the publisher of the ensuing speeches 
 of the great departed statesman DANIEL WEBSTER undeniably 
 the most important and eloquent of all his public efforts, remarkable 
 and memorable as they were that they should be accompanied 
 by a sketch of his life, and some familiar account of his public 
 and private career. 
 
 In compliance with the suggestion, the following brief narrative 
 has been prepared. The extraordinary sale which the speeches 
 have already received, justifies the publisher in making the work 
 as complete as possible. By the kind permission of the publishers 
 of Harper s Magazine, the publisher has been enabled to avail 
 himself of an elaborate article in that work for December last, 
 condensed soon after the death of its illustrious subject, from the 
 elaborate columns of the journals of the day, extended discourses 
 from the public pulpits, addresses of members of the bar, and asso 
 ciative or legislative eulogies. 
 
 The following account of Mr. WEBSTER S family, himself and his 
 consecutive career, is condensed from an able article in a Boston 
 journal, written by one who had long known Mr. WEBSTER inti 
 mately. 
 
 "DANIEL WEBSTER was the son of EBENEZER WEBSTER, of 
 Salisbury, New Hampshire. He was born in that part of Salisbury 
 now called Boscawen, on the eighteenth of January, 1782. His 
 father was a captain in the revolutionary army, and became subse 
 quently, though not bred a lawyer, one of the Judges of the Court of 
 
 Common Pleas. He received his academical education at Exeter and 
 
 . 
 
 1 R <R I O R 
 
Portsmouth. He began his college studies at the latter seminary in 
 1797, and received his degree in 1801. During the intervals of study 
 he taught a school. After leaving college, he tookcharge of an 
 academy at Fryeburg, in Maine. ~ He then applied himself to the 
 study of the law, first with Mr. Thompson, a lawyer of Salisbury, 
 and next with Christopher Gore, of Boston, who afterwards became 
 Governor of Massachusetts. He came to Boston in 1804, and was 
 admitted to the bar in the following year. 
 
 "Mr. Webster s father at this time strongly urged him to 
 take the office of Clerk of the Court of Common Pleas in New 
 Hampshire, which was tendered for his acceptance ; but the son 
 fortunately xesisted the temptation for such it then appeared in 
 the eyes of every body. He remained at Boscawen till his father s 
 death, in 1807. He then removed to Portsmouth, New Hamp- 
 shire,^where he formed an acquaintance with Dexter, Story, Mason, 
 and other men, who became eminent at the bar and in public life. 
 ( Mr. Webster was chosen Representative to Congress in November, 
 1812, and took his first seat in Congress at the extra session in 
 May, 1813. 
 
 On the 10th of June, in that year, he delivered his first speech in 
 that body, on the subject of the Orders in Council, and there he 
 gave clear manifestations of those extraordinary powers of mind 
 which his subsequent career brought out into so full a develop 
 ment. 
 
 He was re-elected to Congress in 1814, and in December 1815, 
 removed to Boston, where he devoted himself to legal practice. His 
 reputation as a lawyer had now risen high, and for five or six years 
 he had little to do with politics. In 1820 he served as an Elector 
 of President, and in 1821 as a member of the State Convention 
 which revised the Constitution of Massachusetts. In 1822 he w r as 
 elected to Congress from the Boston district, and immediately 
 became a leading member of that body.) His speech on Greek 
 Independence was delivered in 1823. 
 
 "Mr. Webster was re-elected to Congress from Boston in 1824. 
 
He delivered the Address on laying the corner stone of the Bunker 
 Hill Monument in 1825. He was again chosen to Congress in 
 1826, and in the following year he was elected a Senator of the 
 United States by the Legislature of Massachusetts. In the same 
 year he delivered his Eulogy on Adams and Jefferson. 
 
 "" Mr. Webster s Great Speech, as it is deservedly called great, 
 both for its intrinsic qualities and for its effects upon the public 
 mind*- was delivered in the Senate on the 26th of January 1830, 
 in the debate on what are called Foot s Resolutions. Next to 
 the Constitution itself, tmsTspeech is esteemed to be the most correct 
 and ample definition of the true powers and functions of the Fed 
 eral government. 
 
 "Mr. Webster continued in the Senate of the United States 
 till 1840. When Van Buren was elected President, in 1836, Mr. 
 Webster received the electoral vote of Massachusetts. On the 
 election of General Harrison, in 1840, Mr. Webster was appointed 
 Secretary of State. The sudden death of the President and the 
 accession of Mr. Tyler, caused a breaking up of the cabinet, all the 
 members of which, except Mr. Webster, resigned their places. The 
 result of his remaining in office was the Ashburton treaty nego- 
 ciated by Mr. Webster in 1842, which settled the question of the 
 north-eastern boundary, and at once put an end to a long protracted 
 I and threatening dispute with Great Britian. 
 
 " Shortly after this, Mr. Webster resigned the office of Secretary 
 of State, and was again chosen Senator from Massachusetts in 
 March, 1845. On the death of General Taylor, in July, 1850, and 
 the accession of Mr. Frllmore to the Presidency, he was again 
 appointed Secretary of State, and in this office he died at Marsh- 
 field, on the morning of the 24th of October, 1852.": 
 
 Such, in brief but comprehensive compass, are the geneology and 
 prominent points in the. public life of Mr. Webster. A considera 
 tion of his character as a public man, gathered partly from the 
 quarters we have indicated, and partly from original sources, will 
 not be uninteresting to our readers ; 
 
6 
 
 " It seems to have been universally conceded, since Mr. Web 
 ster s death, that his ambition throughout life, or at least throughout 
 his entire public career, was to serve his country ; and to illustrate 
 and perpetuate the great charter of our liberties, of which he was 
 alike the ablest expounder and defender. 
 
 " And yet look at him for the lesson is not unworthy of heedful 
 
 consideration. He was a mere private individual ; the son of a 
 
 poor, struggling New Hampshire farmer ; who rose to the highest 
 
 in the state (for the PRESIDENT himself was not before him) 
 
 "by the force of his own mind. His public life comprised a period 
 
 of nearly thirtyjhree years, during which he never shrunk from the 
 
 declaration of his principles, nor from the full discharge of all his 
 
 responsibilities. He never failed his country in the hour of her 
 
 need. i"He was independent, self-poised, steadfast, unmovable. 
 
 You could calculate him, like a planet. ^ His life was a series of 
 
 great acts for great purposes. With the peace of 1815, his 
 
 most distinguished public labors began ; " and thenceforward/ 
 
 remarks one of his ablest contemporaries, rhe devoted himself, the 
 
 ardor of his youth, the energies of his manhood, and the autumnal 
 
 wisdom of his riper years, to the affairs of legislation and 
 
 v diplomacy, preserving the peace, keeping unsullied the honor, 
 
 establishing the boundaries, and vindicating the neutral rights of 
 
 his country, and laying its foundations deep and sure.^j On all 
 
 measures, in fine, affecting his country, he has inscribed his opinions, 
 
 and left the traces of his hand. By some felicity of his personal life, 
 
 by some deep or beautiful word, by some service of his own, or 
 
 some commemoration of the services of others, the PAST gives 
 
 us back his name, and will pass it on and on, to the farthest 
 
 Future." "3 
 
 * i 
 
 Webster never betrayed the mere politician, either in his public 
 acts or in his speeches. Their tone was always elevated. No 
 undignified appeal, no merely personal reflection upon an opponent, 
 no unparliamentary allusion, ever escaped his lips, in the hottest 
 strife of debate ; nor, during his whole career in the councils of the 
 
nation, was he ever, " called to order," by the presiding officer of 
 either body.j 
 
 As a Man, DANIEL WEBSTER was esteemed and loved by all 
 who knew him, and loved and esteemed the most by those who 
 knew him most intimately. While his unaffected, natural, innate 
 dignity never deserted him, he was nevertheless in heart and 
 manner, as simple and unostentatious as a child. The kindliness 
 and tenderness of his heart were seen and felt by all who came 
 within the charmed circle of his intimacy. He was, as we have 
 said, a country boy in early life ; and it is eminently true, and 
 especially worthy of remark, that the associations of the country 
 were always uppermost in his bosom, when happily liberated from 
 affairs of government and the state. He was always happy, if we 
 may take the concurrent testimony of his oldest friends and of 
 himself, when he could escape from the worrying cares and anxieties 
 of professional or of public life, to the retired and homely pursuits 
 of his Marshfield farm. The most genial humor pervaded all he 
 did and said, while thus engaged. 
 
 " He loved," (says a forceful but evidently very warped writer, 
 who, from some difference of opinion upon a much-agitated subject, 
 regarded him with no partial eye,) " he loved out- door and manly 
 sports boating, fishing, fowling. He was fond of nature, loving 
 New Hampshire s mountain scenery. He had started small and 
 poor, had risen great and high, and honorably had fought his way 
 alone. He was a farmer, and and took a countryman s delight in 
 country things ; in loads of hay, in trees ; and the noble Indian 
 corn in monstrous swine. He had a patriarch s love of sheep 
 choice breeds thereof he had. He took delight in cows short- 
 horned Durnhams, Herefordshires, Aryshires, Alderneys. He tilled 
 paternal acres with his own oxen. He loved to give the kine 
 fodder. It was pleasant to hear his talk of oxen. And but three 
 days before he left the earth, too ill to visit them, his oxen, lowing, 
 came to see their sick lord, and as he stood in his door, his great 
 cattle were driven up, that he might smell their healthy breath, 
 
8 
 
 and look his last on those broad, generous faces, that were never 
 false to him. He was a friendlv man : all along the shore there 
 \vere plain men that loved him whom he also loved ; a good 
 neighbor, a good townsman 
 
 ofty.and SQim-La 
 
 * 
 "R 
 
 that sought him, sweet as summer. 
 
 And with all his greatness, we must be permitted to regard him 
 in the light that we love best to regard the departed statesman. 
 We love to read the simple, cordial, honest, letters, that he addressed 
 to his farmer-overseer, at Franklin, and those to old friends, in 
 which he described the struggles of his early life in the country ; in 
 which humor sometimes vies with Bathos, until you both laugh and 
 weep at the felicity of the combination. What, for example, could 
 be more simple, more manly, more touching, than the following 
 extract ? The words of the closing paragraph seem to have sobbed 
 as they dropped from the pen : 
 
 "My Father, Ebenezer Webster! born at Kingston, in the 
 lower part of the State, in 1739 the handsomest man I ever saw, 
 except my brother EZEKIEL, who appeared to me, and so does he 
 now seem to me, the very finest human form that ever I laid eyes on. 
 I saw him in his coffin a white forehead a tinged cheek a com 
 plexion as clear as heavenly light ! But where am I straying ? 
 
 " The grave has closed upon him, as it has on all my brothers 
 and sisters. We shall soon be all together. But this is melancholy 
 and I leave it. Dear, dear kindred blood, how I love you all 1 
 
 " This fair field is before me I could see a lamb on any part 
 of it. I have plowed it, and raked it, and hoed it, but I never 
 mowed it. Somehow, I could never learn to hang a scythe ! I had 
 not wit enough. My brother Joe used to say that my father sent 
 jne.. to college in order to make me equal to the rest of the children ! 
 Of a hot day in July it must have been one of the last years of 
 Washington s administration I was making hay, with my father, 
 just where I now see a remaining elm tree, about the middle of the 
 
9 
 
 afternoon. The Hon. ABIEL FOSTER, M. C., who lived in Canter 
 bury, six miles off, called at the house, and came into the field to see 
 my father. He was a worthy man, college-learned, and had been 
 a minister, but was not a person of any considerable natural powers. 
 My father was his friend and supporter. He talked a while in 
 the field, and went on his way. When he was gone, my father 
 called me to him, and we sat down beneath the elm, on a hay-cock. 
 He said, My son, that is a worthy man, he is a member of Con 
 gress ; he goes to Philadelphia, and gets six dollars a day, while I 
 toil here. It is because he had an education, which I never had. 
 If I had had his early education, I should have been in Philadel 
 phia in his place. I came near it, as it was ; but I missed it, and 
 now I must work here/ My dear father/ said I, < you shall not 
 work ; my brother and I will work for you, and wear our hands 
 out, and you shall rest and I remember to have cried, and I cry 
 now at the recollection. My child/ said he, it is of no impor 
 tance to me ; I now live but for my children ; I could not give 
 your elder brother the advantages of knowledge, but I can do 
 something for you. Exert yourself improve your opportunities 
 l earn learn and when I am gone, you will not need to go through 
 the hardships which I have undergone, and which have made me 
 an old man before my time/j The next May he took me to Exeter, 
 to the Philips Exeter Academy placed me under the tuition of 
 its excellent preceptor, Dr. BENJAMIN ABBOTT, still living." 
 ****** * 
 
 We pass to an illustration or two of Mr, Webster s oratorical 
 manner, and a few anecdotes of Mr. Webster, connected with his . 
 private life and public performances, j No one who has ever seen 
 Mr. Webster, will need any aid to memory in recalling his personal 
 appearance, his pre-eminently marked features ; f the commanding 
 the height, large head and ample forehead ; the large, black, solemn, 
 cavernous eyes, under the pent-house of the overhanging brows , 
 the firm, compressed lips, and broad chest all these can never 
 be forgotten. ^ I 
 
10 
 
 We heard Mr. Webster, for the first time, on the platform of the 
 new Exchange in Wall-street, which was crowded with people ; 
 but his voice in tones rather harsh, we thought, than musical, could 
 be heard to the extremest limit of the vast crowd ; (and well do we 
 remember his hesitation in the choice of a word, which he seemed 
 determined to have, and which he did have at last, and used with 
 a most happy effect. We want/ said he, speaking of the nec< 
 sity for a national bank, ^n institution that shall an institution 
 that has an odor of nationality about it ;" and the applause that 
 followed, attested the force and felicitousness of the figure. 
 
 A friend recently mentioned to the writer another instance 
 which happily illustrates this peculiarity of Mr. Webster, when 
 speaking extemporaneously. (He seldom would make use of a word 
 or words which did not altogether satisfy him ; when that did 
 happen, he would strike from his remarks, by a short pause, the 
 word he had first used, and substitute another. If that did not 
 altogether please him, he would employ still another, and so 
 until he had obtained just the word he wanted, and that would be 
 uttered with such emphasis as he alone could give to language. 
 
 "A year or two ago," continued the gentleman to whom we 
 have alluded, I heard him speak in the Supreme Court at Wash 
 ington, on the Great Wheeling Bridge case. In the course of his 
 argument, he alluded to a large sum of money involved in that 
 case, which had been shut up for many years in the vaults of the 
 Bank of Georgia : 
 
 " Now, your Honors/ said Mr. Webster, we want the Bank 
 to come out to show its hand to render up to give forth to 
 
 DISGORGE ! 
 
 " Any one/ said our informant, " who has ever heard Mr. 
 Webster speak emphatically, will not be surprised when I say that the 
 word DISGORGE/ as uttered by him on the occasion I have mentioned, 
 weighed about twelve pounds !" 
 
 Many readers of this sketch will perhaps remember hearing Mr. 
 Webster in this city, in that celebrated public dinner-speech of 
 
11 
 
 nis, wherein he paid that magnificent tribute to the genius and 
 character of ALEXANDER HAMILTON. There is a circumstance 
 connected with one of the finest passages in this speech, which, in 
 in the opinion of the writer, deserves to be recorded. " You could 
 have heard" remarks a distinguished friend and correspondent of 
 the writer hereof, who had the pleasure of sitting very near Mr. 
 Webster on the occasion alluded to " you could have heard the 
 falling of a pin any where in the crowded assemblage, while Mr. 
 Webster was speaking. When he came to advert to Hamilton s 
 influence in creating and establishing a system of public credit, at a 
 time when it was so much needed, he illustrated his subject with that 
 memorable figure : He smote the rock of the national resources, 
 and abundant streams of revenue gushed forth : and as Mr. 
 Webster said this, he brought his right hand down upon the table, to 
 enforce the simile ; and in so doing he happened to hit a wine-glass, 
 which broke, and slightly cut his hand : and as the blood oozed from 
 the wound, he slowly wrapped a white napkin around it, and then 
 finished the figure : He touched the dead corpse of the Public 
 Credit, and it rose upon its feet ! " 
 
 It is the belief of our informant that the last simile " sprung from 
 the occasion," and was suggested by the white napkin and the oozing 
 blood. Be this as it may, for mingled force and appositeness, the 
 figure has rarely if ever been excelled, even by the great orator 
 who used it. 
 
 Undoubtedly Mr. Webster s personal presence was onf*"great 
 element of his matchless oratory. " When he rose and came down 
 to the edge of the platform, with a small roll of manuscript in his 
 hand, at the celebration of the completion of Bunker-Hill Monu 
 ment," said a distinguished jurist of this city, " and cast a glance 
 at the sea of two hundred thousand faces turned up to his from 
 the amphitheatre and below, then looked up to the monument 
 towering above him into the bright, clear, air, he looked the orator, 
 if ever earthly mortal bespoke it ! " 
 
 As immediately connected with one of the most magnificent 
 
12 
 
 speeches ever made in any public body by any statesman in the 
 world a speech which is the " crowning glory " of our present 
 collection we present, from the excellent work by Mr. CHARLES W. 
 MARCH, entitled " Daniel Webster and his contemporaries" a very 
 vivid sketch of the scene in the Senate Chamber, (during and at 
 the conclusion of the great orator s " Great Speech " in reply to Mr. 
 HAYNE, of South Carolina.) It is authentically related of Mr. 
 t WEBSTER, that as he was walking down the centre-walk in the 
 Capitol Park, the day after Mr. HAYNE S speech, a friend said to 
 him : 
 
 " Mr. WEBSTER, that will be a difficult speech to answer." 
 " We shall see," said Mr. WEBSTER, taking off his hat, and passing 
 his hand over his great broad forehead. " We shall see sir, to 
 morrow ; we shall see to-morrow, Sir ! " 
 /And they did see and the country and the world." 
 vlt was on Tuesday, January the 26 th, 1830, a day to be here 
 after forever memorable in Senatorial annals, that the Senate 
 resumed the consideration of Foote s Resolution. There was 
 never before in the city, an occasion of so much excitement. To 
 witness this great intellectual contest, multitudes of strangers 
 had for two or three days previous been rushing into the city, and 
 the hotels overflowed. As early as nine o clock of this morning, 
 crowds poured into the Capitol, in hot haste ; at 12 o clock, the 
 hour of meeting, the Senate-Chamber, its galleries, floor and even 
 lobbies, was filled to its utmost capacity. The very stairways 
 were dark with men, who hung on to one another, like bees in a 
 swarm. 
 
 The House of Representatives was early deserted. An adjourn 
 ment would have hardly made it emptier. The speaker, it is true, 
 retained his chair, but no business of moment was, or could be, 
 attended to. Members all rushed in to hear Mr. Webster, and no 
 call of the House or other Parliamentary proceedings could compel 
 them back. The floor of the Senate was so densely crowed, that 
 persons once in could not get out, nor change their position ; in the 
 
13 
 
 rear of the Vice-Presidential chair, the crowd was particularly 
 intense. Dixon H. Lewis, then a Representative from Alabama,- 
 became wedged in here. From his enormous size, it was impossi-^ 
 ble for him to move without displacing a vast portion of thei 
 multitude. Unfortunately too, for him, he was jammed in directly 
 behind the chair of the Vice-President, where he could not see, and 
 hardly hear, the speaker. By slow and laborious effort pausing; 
 occasionally to breathe he gained one of the windows, which, 
 constructed of painted glass, flank the chair of the Vice-President 
 on either side. Here he paused, unable to make more headway. 
 But determined to see Mr. Webster as he spoke, with his knife hef 
 made a large hole in one of the panes of glass ; which is still visiblel 
 as he made it. Many were so placed, as not to be able to see thel 
 speaker at all. 
 
 The courtesy of Senators accorded to the fairer sex room on, 
 the floor the most gallant of them, their own seats. The gay 
 bonnets and brilliant dresses threw a varied and picturesque beauty!* 
 over the scene, softening and embelishing it. 
 
 Seldom, if ever, has speaker in this or any other country had 
 more powerful incentives to exertion; a subject, the determination 
 of which involved the most important interests, and even duration, 
 of the republic ; competitors, unequalled in reputation, ability, or; 
 position ; a name to make still more glorious, or lose forever ; and 
 an audience, comprising not only persons of this country most 
 eminent in intellectual greatness, but representatives of other 
 nations, where the art of eloquence had flourished for ages. All 
 the soldier seeks in opportunity was nere. 
 
 Mr. Webster perceived, and felt equal to, the destinies of the! 
 moment. The very greatness of the hazard exhilarated him. Hisj< 
 spirits rose with the occasion. He awaited the time of onset with! 
 a stern and impatient joy. He felt, like the war-horse of the 
 Scriptures, who "paweth in the valley, and rejoiceth in his strength : 
 who goeth on to meet the armed men, who sayeth among the> 
 trumpets, Ha, ha! and who smelleth the battle afar off, the thunder ! 
 of the captains and the shouting/ 5 
 
14 
 
 A confidence in his own resources, springing from no vain estimate 
 of his power, but the legitimate offspring of previous severe mental 
 discipline sustained and excited him. He had guaged his opponents, 
 his subject and himself. 
 
 He was too, at this period, in the very prime of manhood. He 
 had reached middle age an era in the life of man, when the 
 faculties, physical or intellectual, may be supposed to attain their 
 fullest organization, and most perfect development. Whatever 
 there was in him of intellectual energy and vitality, the occasion, 
 his full life and high ambition, might well bring forth. 
 
 He never rose on an ordinary occasion to address an ordinary 
 audience more self-possessed. There was no tremulousness in his 
 voice nor manner ; nothing huried, nothing simulated. The calm 
 ness of superior strength was visible everywhere ; in countenance, 
 voice, and bearing. A deep seated conviction of the extraordinary 
 character of the emergency, and of his ability to control it, seemed 
 to possess him wholly. If an observer, more than ordinarily keen- 
 sighted, detected at times something like exultation in his eye, he 
 presumed it sprang from the excitement of the moment, and the 
 anticipation of victory. 
 
 ^ The anxiety to hear the speech was so intense, irrepressible, and 
 universal, that no sooner had the Vice-President assumed the chair, 
 than a motion was made and unanimously carried, to postpone the 
 ordinary preliminaries of Senatorial action, and to take up immedi 
 ately the consideration of the resolution. 
 
 Mr. Webster rose and addressed the Senate. His exordium is 
 known by heart, everywhere : " Mr. President, when the mariner 
 has been tossed, for many days, in thick weather, and on an 
 unknown sea, he naturally avails himself of the first pause in the 
 storm, the earliest glance of the sun, to take his latitude, and ascer 
 tain how far the elements have driven him from his true course. 
 Let us imitate this prudence ; and before we float further, on the 
 waves of this debate, refer to the point from which we departed, 
 that we may, at least, be able to form some conjecture where we 
 now are. I ask for the reading of the resolution." 
 
15 
 
 There wanted no more to enchain the attention. There was a 
 spontaneous, though silent, expression of eager approbation, as the 
 orator concluded these opening remarks. And while the clerk read 
 the resolution, many attempted the impossibility of getting nearer 
 the speaker. Every head was inclined closer towards him, every 
 ear turned in the direction of his voice and that deep, sudden, 
 mysterious silence followed, which always attends fulness of emotion. 
 From the sea of upturned faces before him, the orator beheld his 
 thoughts reflected as from a mirror. The varying countenance, 
 the suffused eye, the earnest smile, and ever- attentive look 
 assured him of his audience s entire sympathy. If among his 
 hearers there were those who affected at first an indifference to his 
 glowing thoughts and fervent periods, the difficult mask was soon 
 laid aside, and profound, undisguised, devoted attention followed. In 
 the earlier part of his speech, one of his principal opponents seemed 
 deeply engrossed in the careful perusal of a newspaper he held 
 before his face ; but this, on nearer approach, proved to be upside 
 down. In truth, all, sooner or later, voluntarily, or in spite of 
 themselves, were wholly carried away by the eloquence of the 
 orator. 
 
 One of the happiest retorts ever made in a forensic controversy 
 was his application of Hayne s comparison of the ghost of the 
 " murdered coalition " to the ghost of Banquo : 
 
 "Sir, the honorable member was not, for other reasons, entirely 
 happy in his allusions to the story of Banquo s murder, and Ban- 
 quo s ghost. It was not, I think, the friends, but the enemies of the 
 murdered Banquo, at whose bidding his spirit would not down. 
 The honorable gentleman is fresh in his reading of the English 
 classics, and can put me right if I am wrong ; but, according to 
 my poor recollection, it was at those who had begun with caresses, 
 and ended with foul and treacherous murder, that the gory locks 
 were shaken ! The ghost of Banquo, like that of Hamlet, was an 
 honest ghost. It disturbed no innocent man. It knew where its 
 appearance would strike terror, and who would cry out, a ghost ! It 
 
16 
 
 made itself visible in the right quarter, and compelled the guilty, 
 and the conscience-smitten, and none others, to start, with, 
 
 " Pr ythee, see there! behold 1 look! lo, 
 If I stand here, I saw him ! 
 
 THEIR eyeballs were seared (was it not so, sir ?) who had thought 
 to shield themselves, by concealing their own hand, and laying the 
 imputation of the crime on a low and hireling agency in wicked 
 ness ; who had vainly attempted to stifle the workings of their 
 own coward consciences, by ejaculating, through white lips and 
 chattering teeth, " Thou canst not say I did it ! " I have misread 
 the great poet if those who had no way partaken in the deed of 
 death, either found that they were, or feared that they should be, 
 pushed from their stools by the ghost of the slain, or exclaimed, to 
 a spectre created by their own fears, and their own remorse, 
 " Avaunt and quit our sight ! 
 
 There was a smile of appreciation upon the faces all around, at this 
 most felicitous use of another s illustration this turning one s own 
 witness against him in which Col. Hayne good humoredly joined. 
 
 As the orator carried out the moral of Macbeth, and proved by 
 the example of that deep-thinking, intellectual, but insanely ambi 
 tious character, how little of substantial good or permanent power 
 \v$s to be secured by a devious and unblessed policy, he turned his 
 eye with a significance of expression, full of prophetic revelation 
 upon the Yice-President, reminding him that those who had foully 
 removed Banquo had placed 
 
 " A barren sceptre in their gripe, 
 Thence to be wrenched by an unlineal hand, 
 No son of theirs succeeding." 
 
 Every eye of the whole audience followed the direction of his own 
 
 and witnessed the changing countenance and visible agitation of 
 
 Mr. Calhoun. 
 
 Surely, no prediction ever met a more rapid or fuller confirm 
 ation, even to the very manner in which the disaster was accom- 
 
17 
 
 plished. Within a few brief months, the political fortunes of the 
 Vice-President, at this moment seemingly on the very point of 
 culmination, had sunk so low, there were none so poor to do him 
 reverence. 
 
 Whether for a moment a presentiment of the approaching crisis 
 in his fate, forced upon his mind by the manner and language of 
 the speaker, cast a gloom over his countenance or some other 
 cause, it is impossible to say ; but his brow grew dark, nor for 
 some time did his features recover their usual impassibility. 
 
 The allusion nettled him, the more as he could not but witness 
 the effect it produced upon others and made him restless. He 
 seemed to seek an opportunity to break in upon the speaker ; and 
 later in the day, as Mr. Webster was exposing the gross and ludi 
 crous inconsistencies of South Carolina politicians, upon the subject 
 of Internal Improvements, he interrupted him with some eagerness : 
 " Does the chair understand the gentleman from Massachusetts to 
 say that the person now occupying the chair of the Senate has 
 changed his opinions on this subject ? " To this, Mr. Webster 
 replied immediately, and good-naturedly : " From nothing ever said 
 to me, sir, have I had reason to know of any change in the opin 
 ions of the person filling the chair of the Senate. If such change 
 has taken place, I regret it." * 
 
 Those who had doubted Mr. Webster s ability to cope with and 
 overcome his opponents were fully satisfied of their error before 
 he had proceeded far in his speech. Their fears soon took another 
 
 * Mr. Calhoun s interruption was un-Parliamentary, or rather, un-SenatoriaL The 
 Vice-President is not a member of the Senate, and has no voice in it save for the 
 preservation of order and enforcement of the rules. He cannot participate otherwise 
 either in the debates or proceedings. He is simply the presiding officer of the Senate 
 having no vote in its affairs save on a tie. Had Mr. Webster made a direct, 
 unmistakable allusion to him, Mr. Calhoon still could have replied through a friendly 
 Senator, or the press. On this occasion he was too much excited to attend to the 
 etiquette of his position. His feelings and his interest in the question made him 
 forgetful of his duty. 
 2 
 
18 
 
 direction. When they heard his sentences of powerful thought, 
 towering in accumulative grandeur, one above the other, as if the 
 orator strove, Titan like, to reach the very heavens themselves, 
 they were giddy with an apprehension that he would break down 
 in his flight. They dared not believe, that genius, learning, any 
 intellectual endowment however uncommon, that was simply 
 mortal, could sustain itself long in a career seemingly so perilous. 
 They feared an Icarian fall. 
 
 Ah f who can ever forget, that was present to hear, the tremen 
 dous, the awful burst of eloquence with which the orator spoke of 
 the Old Bay State ! or the tones of deep pathos in which the 
 words were pronounced : 
 
 " Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachu 
 setts. There she is behold her, and judge for yourselves. There 
 is her history : the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is 
 secure. There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and 
 Bunker Hill and there they will remain forever. The bones of 
 her sons, falling in the great struggle for independence, now lie 
 mingled with the soil of every State, from New England to Georgia ; 
 and there they will lie forever. And, sir, where American Liberty 
 raised its first voice ; and where its youth was nurtured and sus 
 tained, there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood and full of 
 its original spirit. If discord and disunion shall wound it if party 
 strife and blind ambition shall hawk at and tear it if folly and 
 madness if uneasiness under salutary and necessary restraint 
 shall succeed to separate it from that Union, by which alone its 
 existence is made sure, it will stand in the end, by the side of that 
 
 Sometime later than this, after a rupture had taken place between Gen. Jackson 
 and himself, Mr. Forsyth, of Georgia, on being interrupted by some (as he thought) 
 uncalled for question or remark, rebuked him in an emphatic manner for violation 
 of official etiquetU. Mr. Van Buren, who ousted and succeeded him, always remained 
 silent, placid, imperturbable in his seat, however personal or severe the attack upon 
 him ; and no Vice- President since his day has ever attempted to interfere with the 
 discussions of the Senate. 
 
19 
 
 cradle in which its infancy was rocked : it will stretch forth its 
 arm with whatever of vigor it may still retain, over the friends who 
 gather round it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must, amidst the 
 proudest monuments of its own glory, and on the very spot of its 
 origin." 
 
 What New England heart was there but throbbed with vehe 
 ment, tumultuous, irrepressible emotion, as he dwelt upon New 
 England sufferings, New England struggles, and New England 
 triumphs, during the war of the Revolution ? There was scarcely 
 a dry eye in the Senate ; all hearts were overcome ; grave judges 
 and men grown old in dignified life turned aside their heads, to 
 conceal the evidences of their emotion.* 
 
 In one corner of the gallery was clustered a group of Massachu 
 setts men. They had hung from the first moment upon the words 
 of the speaker, with feelings variously but always warmly excited, 
 deepening in intensity as he proceeded. At first, while the orator 
 was going through his exordium, they held their breath and hid 
 their faces, mindful of the savage attack upon him and New Eng 
 land, and the fearful odds against him, her champion ; as he went 
 deeper into his speech, they felt easier ; when he turned Hayne s 
 flank on Banquo s ghost, they breathed freer and deeper. But 
 now, as he alluded to Massachusetts, their feelings were strained 
 to the highest tension ; and when the orator, concluding his enco 
 mium upon the land of their birth, turned, intentionally, or otherwise, 
 his burning eye fell upon them they shed tears like girls. 
 
 No one who was not present can understand the excitement of 
 the scene. No one, who was, can give an adequate description of 
 it. No word-painting can convey the deep, intense enthusiasm, 
 the reverential attention, of that vast assembly nor limner, 
 transfer to canvass their earnest, eager, awe-struck countenances. 
 
 * Gen. "Washington said that the New England troops came better clothed into 
 the field, were as orderly there, and fought as well, if not better, than any troops on 
 the continent 
 
20 
 
 Though language were as subtile and flexible as thought, it still 
 would be impossible to represent the full idea of the scene. There 
 is something intangible in an emotion, which cannot be transferred. 
 The nicer shades of feeling elude pursuit. Every description, 
 therefore, of the occasion, seems to the narrator himself most tame, 
 spiritless, unjust. 
 
 Much of the instantaneous effect of the speech arose, of course, 
 from the orator s delivery the tones of his voice, his countenance, 
 and manner.* These die mostly with the occasion that calls them 
 forth the impression is lost in the attempt at transmission from 
 one mind to another. They can oiJy be described in general 
 terms. " Of the effectiveness of Mr. Webster s manner, in many 
 parts," says Mr. Everett, " it would be in vain to attempt to give 
 any one not present the faintest idea. It has been my fortune to hear 
 some of the ablest speeches of the greatest living orators on both 
 sides of the water, but I must confess, I never heard anything 
 which so completely realized my conception of what Demosthenes 
 was when he delivered the Oration for the Crown." 
 
 Assuredly, Kean nor Kemble, nor any other masterly delineator 
 of the human passions ever produced a more powerful impression 
 upon an audience, or swayed so completely their hearts. This 
 was acting not to the life, but life itself. 
 
 * The personal appearance of Mr. "Webster has been a theme of frequent discus 
 sion. He was at the time this speech was delivered twenty years younger than 
 now. Time had not thinned nor bleached his hair : it was as dark as the raven s 
 plumage, surmounting his massive brow, in ample folds. His eye, always dark and 
 deep-set, enkindled by some glowing thought, shone from beneath his sombre, over* 
 hanging brow like lights, in the blackness of night, from a sepulchre. It was such a 
 countenance as Salvator Rosa delighted to paint 
 
 No one understood, or understands, better that Mr. "Webster the philosophy of 
 dress : what a powerful auxiliary it is to speech and manner, when harmonizing 
 with them. On this occasion he appeared in a blue coat and buff vest, the Revo 
 lutionary colors of buff and blue ; with a white cravat, a costume, than which none 
 is more becoming to his face and expression. This courtly particularity of dress adds 
 no little to the influence of his manner and appearance. 
 
21 
 
 No one ever looked the orator, as he did " ot humerosque deo 
 similis" in form and feature how like a god. His countenance* 
 spake no less audibly than his wor.ds. His manner gave new force 
 to his language. As he stood swaying his right arm, like a huge 
 tilt-hammer, up and down, his swarthy countenance lighted up with 
 excitement, he appeared amid the smoke, the fire, the thunder of 
 his eloquence, like Vulcan in his armory forging thoughts for the 
 Gods! 
 
 The human face never wore an expression of more withering, 
 relentless scorn, than when the orator replied to Hayne s allusion 
 to the " murdered coalition." " It is," said Mr. W., " the very 
 cast-off slough of a polluted and shameless press. Incapable of 
 further mischief, it lies in the sewer, lifeless and despised. It is not 
 now, sir, in the power of the honorable member to give it dignity 
 or decency, by attempting to elevate it, and introduce it into the 
 Senate. He cannot change it from what it is an object of general 
 disgust and scorn. On the contrary, the contact, if he choose to 
 touch it, is more likely to drag him down, down to the place 
 where it lies itself." He looked, as he spoke these words, as if the 
 thing he alluded to was too mean for scorn itself and the sharp, 
 stinging enunciation made the words still more withering. The 
 audience seemed relieved, so crushing was the expression of his 
 face which they held on to, as twere, spell-bound, when he turned 
 to other topics. 
 
 The good-natured yet provoking irony with which he described 
 the imaginary though life-like scene of direct collision between the 
 marshalled array of South Carolina under Gen. Hayne on the one 
 side, and the officers of the United States on the other, nettled his 
 opponent even more than his severer satire ; it seemed so ridicu 
 lously true. Col. Hayne enquired, with some degree of emotion, if 
 the gentleman from Massachusetts intended any personal imputa 
 tion by such remarks ? To which Mr. Webster replied, with 
 perfect good humor : " Assuredly not just the reverse." 
 
 The variety of incident during the speech, and the rapid fluctu- 
 
22 
 
 ation of passions, kept the audience in continual expectation, and 
 ceaseless agitation. There was no chord of the heart the orator 
 did not strike, as with a master- hand. The speech was a complete 
 drama of comic and pathetic scenes ; one varied excitement ; 
 laughter and tears gaining alternate victory. 
 
 ; A great portion of the speech is strictly argumentative; an 
 exposition of constitutional law. But grave as such portion 
 necessarily is, severely logical, abounding in no fancy or episode, 
 it engrossed throughout the undivided attention of every intelligent 
 hearer. Abstractions, under the glowing genius of the orator, 
 acquired a beauty, a vitality, a power to thrill the blood and 
 nkiridle the affections, awakening into earnest activity many a 
 dormant faculty. His ponderous syllables had an energy, a vehe 
 mence of meaning in them that fascinated, while they startled. His 
 thoughts in their statuesque beauty merely would have gained all 
 critical judgment ; but he realized the antique fable, and warmed the 
 marble into life. There was a sense of power in his language, 
 of power withheld and suggestive of still greater power, that 
 subdued, as by a spell of mystery, the hearts of all. For power, 
 whether intellectual or physical, produces in its earnest develop 
 ment a feeling closely allied to awe. It was never more felt than 
 on this occasion. It had entire mastery. The sex, which is said 
 to love it best and abuse it most, seemed as much or more carried 
 away that the sterner one. Many who had entered the hall with 
 light, gay thoughts, anticipating at most a pleasurable excitement, 
 soon became deeply interested in the speaker and his subject sur 
 rendered him their entire heart ; and, when the speech was over, and 
 they left the hall, it was with sadder, perhaps, but, surely, with far 
 more elevated and ennobling emotions. 
 
 The exulting rush of feeling with which he went through the 
 peroration threw a glow over his countenance, like inspiration. 
 Eye, brow, each feature, every line of the face seemed touched, as 
 with a celestial fire. All gazed as at something more than human. 
 So Moses might have appeared to the awe-struck Israelites as he 
 
23 
 
 emerged from the dark clouds and thick smoke of Sinai, his face 
 all radiant with the breath of divinity ! 
 
 The swell and roll of his voice struck upon the ears of the spell 
 bound audience, in deep and melodious cadence, as waves upon 
 the shore of the "far resounding" sea. The Miltonic grandeur of 
 his words was the fit expression of his thought and raised his 
 hearers up to his theme. His voice, exerted to its utmost power, 
 penetrated every recess or corner of the Senate penetrated even 
 the ante-rooms and stairways as he pronounced in deepest tones of 
 pathos these words of solemn significance : " When my eyes shall 
 be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not 
 see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once 
 glorious Union ; on States dissevered, discordant, belligerent ! on a 
 land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal 
 blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance rather behold the 
 gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored 
 throughout the earth, still full high advanced,* its arms and trophies 
 streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased nor polluted, 
 not a single star obscured, bearing for its motto no such miserable 
 interrogatory as, " What is all this worth ? " Nor those other 
 words of delusion and folly, Liberty first, and Union afterwards ; 
 but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, bla- 
 
 * Mr. Webster may have had in his mind, when speaking of the gorgeous ensign 
 of the Republic, Milton s description of the imperial banner in the lower regions 
 floating across the immensity of space : 
 
 " Who forthwith from the glittering staff unfurl d 
 The imperial ensign ; which,./?*// high advanced 
 Shone like a meteor streaming to the wind, 
 With gems and golden lustre rich imblaz d, 
 Seraphic arms and trophies ; all the while 
 Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds : " 
 
 And this in its turn is borrowed from, or suggested by, Tasso s description of the 
 banner of the Crusades, when first unfolded in Palestine which the inquisitive reader 
 may find, if he choose, in " Jerusalem Delivered. 
 
24 
 
 zing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the 
 land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sen 
 timent, dear to every American heart, " LIBERTY AND UNION, NOW 
 
 AND FOREVER, ONE AND INSEPARABLE!" 
 
 The speech was over, but the tones of the orator still lingered 
 upon the ear, and the audience, unconscious of the close, retained 
 their positions. The agitated countenance, the heaving breast, the 
 suffused eye attested the continued influence of the spell upon 
 them. Hands that in the excitement of the moment had sought 
 each other, still remained closed in an unconscious grasp. Eye 
 still turned to eye, to receive and repay mutual sympathy ; and 
 everywhere around seemed forgetfulness of all but the orator s 
 presence and words. 
 
 When the Vice-President, hastening to dissolve the spell, angrily 
 called to order ! order ! There never was a deeper stillness not a 
 movement, not a gesture had been made, not a whisper uttered 
 order ! Silence could almost have heard itself, it was so superna- 
 turally still. The feeling was too overpowering, to allow expression 
 by voice or hand. It was as if one was in a trance, all motion 
 paralyzed. 
 
 But the descending hammer of the Chair awoke them, with a 
 start and with one universal, long-drawn, deep breath, with which 
 the overcharged heart seeks relief, the crowded assembly broke 
 up and departed. 
 
 The New England men walked down Pennsylvania avenue that 
 day, after the speech, with a firmer step and bolder air " pride in 
 their port, defiance in their eye." You would have sworn th^y 
 had grown some inches taller in a few hours time. They devoured 
 the way, in their stride. They looked every one in the face they 
 met, fearing no contradiction. The/ swarmed in the streets, 
 naving become miraculously multitudinous. They clustered in 
 parties and fought the scene over one hundred times that night. 
 
25 
 
 Their elation was the greater, by reaction, It knew no limits, or 
 choice of expression. Not one of them but felt he had gained a 
 personal victory. Not one, who was not ready to exclaim, with 
 gushing eyes, in the fulness of gratitude, " Thank God, I too am a 
 Yankee!" 
 
 In the evening General Jackson held a levee at the White House. 
 It was known, in advance, that Mr. Webster would attend it, and 
 hardly had the hospitable doors of the house been thrown open, 
 when the crowd that had filled the Senate chamber in the morning 
 rushed in and occupied the rooms. Persons a little more tardy in 
 arriving found it almost impossible to get in, such a crowd oppressed 
 the entrance. 
 
 Before this evening, the General had been the observed of all 
 observers. His military and personal reputation, official position, 
 gallant bearing, and courteous manners, had secured him great and 
 merited popularity. His receptions were always gladly attended 
 by large numbers to whom he was himself the object of 
 attraction. 
 
 But on this occasion, the room in which he received his company 
 was deserted, as soon as courtesy to the President permitted. Mr. 
 Webster, it was whispered, was in the East Boom, and thither the 
 whole mass hurried. 
 
 He stood almost in the centre of the room, hemmed in by eager 
 crowds, from whom there was no escape, all pressing to get nearer 
 to him. He seemed but little exhausted by the intellectual exertion 
 of the day, severe as it had been. The flush of excitement still 
 lingered and played upon his countenance, gilding and beautifying 
 it, like the setting sun its accompanying clouds. 
 
 All were eager to get a sight at him. Some stood on tip-toe, and 
 some even mounted the chairs of the room. Many were presented 
 to him. The dense crowd, entering and retiring, moved round 
 him, renewing the order of their ingression and egression, 
 continually. One would ask his neighbor: "Where, which is 
 Webster ? " " There, don t you see him that dark, swarthy man, 
 
26 
 
 with a great deep eye and heavy brow that s Webster." No one 
 was obliged to make a second inquiry. 
 
 In another part of the room was Col. Hayne. He too, had had 
 his day of triumph, and received congratulation. His friends even 
 now contended that the contest was but a drawn-battle, no full 
 victory having been achieved on either side. There was nothing 
 in bis own appearance this evening to indicate the mortification 
 of defeat. With others, he went up and complimented Mr. 
 Webster on his brilliant effort* ; and no one, ignorant of the past 
 struggle, could have supposed that they had late been engaged 
 in such fierce rivalry. 
 
 Mr. Webster is declared by all who knew him intimately, to be 
 in private conversation one of the most entertaining and instructive 
 of companions. He had a great fund of anecdotes of men and 
 events, which he used to relate with inimitable effect. A biogra 
 pher mentions, among others, the following : 
 
 " One night, before railroads were built, he was forced to make a 
 journey by private conveyance from Baltimore to Washington. 
 The man that drove the wagon, was such an ill-looking fellow, and 
 told so many stories of robberies and murders, that, before they had 
 gone far, Mr. Webster was somewhat alarmed. At last the wagon 
 stopped, in the midst of a dense wood, when the man, turning sud 
 denly round to his passenger, exclaimed fiercely, Now, sir, tell me 
 who you are ? Mr. Webster replied, in a faltering voice, and 
 ready to spring from the vehicle, I am Daniel Webster, member 
 of Congress, from Massachusetts! What, rejoined the driver, 
 \ grasping him warmly by the hand, are you Webster ! Thank God ! 
 I thank God ! You were such an ugly chap, that I took you for a 
 I highwayman/ This is the substance of the story, but the precise 
 
 \It was said at the time, that, as Col. Hayne approached Mr. "Webster to tender his 
 congratulations, the latter accosted him with the usual courtesy, "How are you, 
 this evening, Col. Hayne ? " and that CoL Hayne replied, good-humoredly," "Nona 
 the better for you, sir ? " 
 

 words used by Mr. Webster himself, can not be recalled, nor the 
 inimitable bonhommie with which it was related by him." 
 
 When entertaining a party at dinner or holding a levee, Mr. 
 Webster always looked the gentleman superbly ; when out on a 
 fishing excursion, he could not be taken for anything but an angler ; 
 and when on a shooting frolic, he was a genuine rustic Nimrod. 
 And hereby hangs an incident. /He was once tramping over the 
 Marshfield meadows, shooting ducks, when .he encountered a couple 
 of Boston sporting snobs, who happened to be in trouble just 
 then about crossing a bog. Not knowing Mr. Webster, and believ 
 ing him to be strong enough to help them over the water, they 
 begged to be conveyed to a dry point upon his back. The request 
 was of course complied with, and after the cockneys had paid him 
 a quarter of a dollar each for his trouble, they inquired if Old 
 Webster was at home/ for as they had had poor luck in shooting, 
 they would honor him with a call. Mr. Webster replied, that the 
 gentleman alluded to was not at home just then, but would be as 
 soon as he could walk to the house, and added, that he would be 
 glad to see them at dinner. As may be presumed, the cockneys 
 were never seen to cross the threshold of Old Webster. "\ 
 
 "Two hours before he was to appear before the most magnificent 
 of audiences, on the occasion of his last speech in New York, at 
 Niblo s saloon, Mr. Webster was telling stories at his dinner-table, 
 as unconcernedly as if he was only intending to take his usual 
 nap. On being questioned as to what he proposed to say, he 
 remarked as iollows : I am going to be excessively learned and 
 classical, and shall talk much about the older citizens of Greece. 
 When I make my appearance in Broadway to-morrow, people will 
 accost me thus Good morning Mr. WEBSTER. Recently from 
 Greece, 1 understand. How did you leave Mr. PERICLES and 
 Mr. ARISTOPHANES ? 
 
 The following is one among the many New Hampshire anecdotes 
 which Mr. Webster was in the habit of occasionally narrating to 
 his friends. It is given in nearly the narrator s own words : 
 
28 
 
 " Soon after commencing the practice of my profession at Ports 
 mouth, I was waited on by an old acquaintance of my father s, 
 resident in an adjacent county, who wished to engage my profes 
 sional services. Some years previous, he had rented a farm, with 
 the clear understanding that he could purchase it, after the expi 
 ration of his lease, for one thousand dollars. Finding the soil pro 
 ductive, he soon determined to own it, and as he laid aside money 
 for the purchase, he was prompted to improve what he felt certain 
 he would possess. But his landlord finding the property greatly 
 increased in value, coolly refused to receive the one thousand 
 dollars, when in due time it was presented ; and when his extortion 
 ate demand of double that sum was refused, he at once brought an 
 action of ejectment. The man had but the one thousand dollars, 
 and an unblemished reputation, yet I willingly undertook the 
 case. * 
 
 " The opening argument of the plaintiffs attorney left me little 
 ground for hope. He stated that he could prove that my client 
 hired the farm, but there was not a word in the lease about the 
 sale, nor was there a word spoken about the sale when the 
 lease was signed, as he should prove by a witness. In short, his 
 was a clear case, and I left -the court-room at dinner time with 
 feeble hopes of success. By chance, I sat at the table next a 
 newly-commissioned militia officer, and a brother-lawyer began to 
 joke him about his lack of martial knowledge ; Indeed, he jocosely 
 
 remarked, you should write down the orders, and get old W 
 
 to beat them into your sconce, as I saw him this morning, with a 
 
 paper in his hand, teaching something to young M in the court 
 
 house entry." 
 
 " Can it be, I thought, that old W , the plaintiff in the case, 
 
 was instructing young M , who was his reliable witness ? 
 
 " After dinner, the court was re-opened, and M was put on 
 
 the stand. He was examined by the plaintiffs counsel, and cer 
 tainly told a clear, plain story, repudiating all knowledge of any 
 agreement to sell. When he had concluded, the opposite counsel 
 
29 
 
 with a triumphant glance turned to me, and asked me if I was 
 satisfied? Not quite/ I replied. 
 
 " I had noticed a piece of paper, protruding from M s pocket, 
 
 and hastily approaching him. I seized it before he had the least 
 idea of my intention. Now, 1 asked. tell me if this paper does 
 not detail the story you have so clearly told, and is it not false? 
 The witness hung his head with shame ; and when the paper was 
 found to be wnat 1 nad supposed, and in the very hand 
 writing of old W . he lost his case at once. Nay, there was 
 
 such a storm of indignation against him, that he soon removed to 
 the West. 
 
 " Years afterwards, visiting New Hampshire, I was the guest of 
 my professional brethren at a public dinner ; and toward the close 
 of the festivities, I was asked if I would solve a great doubt by 
 antwering a question Certainly. Well then, Mr. Webster, 
 
 we have often wondered how you knew what was in M s 
 
 pocket. " 
 
 Of Mr. Webster s life it may be said, " that nothing became it 
 more " than the manner in which he consigned it to " the God 
 who gave it." A lover and a habitual reader of the Bible, he 
 derived in his dying hours his chiefest support from the divine 
 consolations which its teachings afford. The " rod and the staff" 
 of the Almighty were his support, as he entered upon the valley of 
 the shadow of death. He who never while living spake or thought, 
 save with awful reverence, of the power and presence of God, 
 went calmly to meet his Maker in the world beyond the grave. 
 His profound intellect was clear, serene, unclouded to the last, 
 triumphing over all the infirmities of physical decay. In the 
 sententious and beautiful words of another, " We see, in his 
 deportment at the hour of his last great trial, the graceful submis 
 sion of a truly majestic nature. We behold a lofty and 
 commanding intellect becoming obedient to the summons which 
 ordered him from a world he loved but too well, forgetting none of 
 the duties, the demands or the proprieties of mortal existence about 
 
30 
 
 to close. His life did not end as the lives of most end, with 
 thoughts of self merely, or struggles to forget self. He recognized 
 the condition of those friends he was about to leave behind him, 
 with a singular mixture of consideration, tenderness, and collected- 
 ness of soul. He was not only cool and self-possessed himself, his 
 vigorous spirit even buoyed up and animated those who surrounded 
 him in his last moments. He recognized his own condition in the 
 same spirit of philosophic and self-sustaining contemplation. He 
 looked steadfastly in the face of the grim messenger, and calmly 
 held out the hand of recognition as he approached. He accompa 
 nied him without a shudder within the gates of eternity, which 
 swung wide to receive him. He passed the threshold with a 
 tranquil majesty, casting upon the world a last look which was at 
 once his calmest and noblest." Like the sun itself, he "Shone 
 largest at his setting." 
 
 His resting place is where it should be ; in the fields whicn he has 
 tilled ; near the haunts alike of his hours of sublime contemplation, 
 and his brighter and more genial moods ; within sight of the 
 window from which he looked, in the pauses of his study, upon the 
 white tomb-stones which he had placed over his family all but one 
 gone before ! 
 
 " It is alLpyer ! The last struggle is past ; the struggle, the strife, 
 the anxiety, the pain, the turmoil of life is over : the tale is told, 
 and finished, and ended. It is told and done ; and the seal of death 
 is set upon it. Henceforth that great life, marked at every step ! 
 chronicled in journals ; waited on by crowds ; told to the whole 
 country by telegraphic tongues of flames that great life shall be 
 but a history, a biography, a tale told in an evening tent. In the 
 tents of life it shall long be recited ; but no word shall reach the 
 ear of that dead sleeper by the ocean shore. Fitly will he rest 
 there. Like the granite rock, like the heaving ocean, was his mind ! 
 Let the rock guard his rest : let the ocean sound his dirge ! " 
 
ILLNESS AND DEATH. 
 
 Mr. WEBSTER died at Marshfield, on Sunday morning, October 
 24th, 1852. 
 
 His health as has been intimated, had failed during the summer 
 from his severe public labors and from the progress of an obscure 
 disease in the liver of long standing, accelerated, no doubt, by the 
 shock which his whole system had received when he was thrown 
 from his carriage in the preceding May. He was aware of his decline, 
 and watched it with a careful observation ; frequently giving intima 
 tions to those nearest to him of the failure in strength which he 
 noticed, and of the result which he apprehended must be approach 
 ing. Towards the end of September he seemed, indeed, to rally 
 a little ; but it w r as soon apparent to others, no less than to himself, 
 that, as the days passed on, each brought with it some slight proof 
 of a gradual decay in his bodily powers and rescources. 
 
 On Sunday evening, October 10, he desired a fiiend, who was 
 sitting with him, to read to him the passage in the ninth chapter of 
 St. Mark s Gospel, where the man brings his child to Jesus to be 
 cured, and the Saviour tells him, " If thou canst believe, all things 
 are possible to him that believeth ; and straightway the father of 
 the child cried out, with tears, Lord, I believe, help thou mine unbe 
 lief." " Now," he continued, " turn to the tenth chapter of St. 
 John, and read from the verse where it is said, * Many of the Jews 
 believed on him. " After this he dictated a few lines, and directed 
 them to be signed with his name and dated Sunday Evening, Oct. 
 
32 
 
 10, 1852. " This," he then added, " is the inscription to be placed 
 on my monument." A few days later, on the 15th, he recurred 
 to the same subject, and revised and corrected with his own hand 
 what he had earlier dictated, so as to make the whole read as 
 follows : 
 
 " Lord, I believe ; help them 
 mine unbelief." 
 
 Philosophical 
 argument, especially 
 that drawn from the vastness of 
 the Universe, in comparison with the 
 apparent insignificance of thia globe, has some 
 times shaken my reason for the faith which is in me ; 
 but my heart has always assured and reassured me, that the 
 Gospel of Jesus Christ must be a Divine Reality. The 
 Sermon on the Mount cannot be a merely human 
 production. This belief enters into the 
 very depth of my conscience. 
 The whole history of man 
 proves it 
 
 DANIEL 
 
 When he first dictated this inscription, he said to the friend \vho 
 wrote it down " It I get well, and write a book on Christianity, 
 about which we have talked, we can attend more fully to this 
 matter. But if I should be taken away suddenly, I do not wish 
 to leave any duty oi this kind unperformed. I want to leave 
 somewhere a declaration of my belief in Christianity. I do not 
 wish to go into any doctrinal distinctions in regard to the per 
 son of Jesus but I wish to express my belief in his divine 
 mission ; "^solemn and remarkable words, by which it is plain 
 that, having given the deliberate testimony of his life to the truth 
 of Christianity, as a miraculous revelation of God s will to man 
 he desired, though dead, still to bear the same testimony from his 
 
33 
 
 grave to the same great truth. The monument on which he in 
 tended this striking inscription should be placed, he has elsewhere 
 directed should be of " exactly the same size and form " with the 
 modest monuments he had already erected, within the same 
 inclosure, for his children and for their mother. 
 
 On Tuesday, the 19th of October, he was too feeble to appear at 
 the dinner-table, and desired that his son might take his place at 
 its head, till he should be able again to go down stairs ; "or," he added, 
 " until I give it up to him altogether." That evening was the last 
 time his friends had the happiness to see him in his accustomed 
 seat at his own hospital fire-side. 
 
 Warned by his increasing debility he had already given some 
 directions concerning a final disposition of his worldly affairs ; but 
 he now desired that his will might be immediately drawn up in legal 
 form, and the next day he dictated a considerable portion of it with 
 great precision and a beautiful appropriateness of phraseology. 
 Some of its directions are very striking, not only from their import, 
 but from the simplicity with which their meaning is set forth : 
 
 " I wish to be buried," he says, " without the least show or osten 
 tation, but in a manner respectful to my neighbors, whose kindness 
 has contributed so much to the happiness of me and mine, and 
 for whose prosperity I offer sincere prayers to God." 
 
 After this, every thing relating to his personal concerns is wisely 
 and well provided for, and all his immediate kindred tenderly 
 remembered. He then goes on : 
 
 " My servant, William Johnson, is a free man. I bought his 
 freedom not long ago for six hundred dollars. No demand is to 
 be made upon him for any portion of this sum ; but, so long as is 
 agreeable, I hope he will remain with the family. Monicha 
 McCarty, Sarah Smith, and Anna Bean, colored persons, now also, 
 and, for a long time, in my service, are all free. They are very 
 well-deserving, and whoever comes after me, must be kind to them." 
 
 And then with the usual legal forms, this remarkable and char 
 acteristic document is closed. 
 3 
 
34 
 
 The day when the preparation of the will was completed 
 Thursday was one in which Mr. Webster had attended to much 
 public business, besides giving his usual careful directions about 
 every thing touching his household and his large estate. It was 
 intended, therefore, to postpone the final signing and execution of 
 that paper until the next morning ; more especially as his forenoons 
 were uniformly more comfortable than the later portions of the 
 day. But, in the afternoon, his complaint assumed a new and 
 more formidable character. Blood was suddenly ejected from his 
 stomach. The symptom was decisive. He fixed an intensely 
 scrutinizing look upon Dr. Jeffries, his attending physician and 
 personal friend, and inquired what it was ? He was ansvrered 
 that it came from the diseased part. " What is it ? " he repeated 
 with the same piercing look, and then, without waiting for a reply, 
 added, " That is the enemy ; if you can conquer that " he was 
 interrupted by a recurrence of the attack, but his mind, it was 
 obvious, was already made up. He knew that his time must be 
 short, and that whatever he had to do must be done quickly. 
 
 He determined, therefore, at once to execute his will. It was 
 made ready and brought to him. He ascertained that its provis 
 ions and arrangements were entirely satisfactory to the persons 
 most interested in them, and then, having signed it with a larger 
 boldness and freedom in the signature than was common to him, 
 he folded his hands together and said solemnly, " I thank God for 
 strength to perform a sensible act." In a full voice, and with a 
 most reverential manner he went on and prayed aloud for some 
 minutes, ending with the Lord s Prayer, and the ascription, "And 
 nowunto God the Father, the Son, and Holy Ghost, be praise 
 forever more. Peace on earth, and good will towards men ; " 
 after which, clasping his hands together, as at first, he added, with 
 great emphasis, " That is the happiness the essence Good will 
 towards men." 
 
 Much exhausted with the effort, he desired all but Dr. Jeffries 
 and a favorite colored nurse, who had long been in his service, to 
 
35 
 
 leave the room, that he might rest. But, before he slept, he said, 
 " Doctor you look sober. You think I shall not be here in the 
 morning. But I shall. I shall greet the morning light." 
 
 The next forenoon, he repeated a similar assurance to his kind 
 and faithful physician, who as he thought, again looked sad, though 
 he was only overcome with fatigue and long watching. " Cheer 
 up, Doctor cheer up I shall not die to-day. You will get me 
 along to day." And so he went on through Friday, giving comfort 
 and kind thoughts to all who surrounded him. In the course of 
 the morning, he attended to the public business that needed imme 
 diate care, and gave directions for every thing about his farm and 
 household as usual, and, in the evening sent for the person 
 who managed his affairs, and directed him, with more than his 
 customary exactness, concerning all arrangements for the next 
 day. 
 
 But when the next day Saturday came, he felt as he had not felt 
 before. He felt that it was his last day. About eight o clock in 
 the morning, therefore, he desired that all in the room should leave 
 it, except Doctor Jeffries, who had been his physician for a long 
 period, and who had now been in constant attendance on him 
 living in the house for above a week. During the night Mr. Web 
 ster perceived that he had grown weaker by excessive loss of blood 
 from the stomach. He had just suffered afresh in the same way. 
 But when he was certain that he was alone with his professional 
 adviser, and that no loving ear would be pained by what he should 
 say, he spoke in a perfectly clear and even voice, but with much 
 solemnity, of manner, and said, "Doctor, you have carried me 
 through the night. I think you will get me through the day. I 
 shall die to-night." The faithful physician, much moved, said, 
 after a pause, " You are right, Sir." Mr. Webster then went on : 
 " I wish you, therefore, to send an express to Boston for some 
 younger person to be with you. / shall die to night. You are 
 exhausted, and must be relieved. Who shall it be ? " Dr. Jeffries 
 suggested a professional brother, Dr. J. Mason Warren, adding that 
 
36 
 
 he was the son of an old and faithful friend of Mr. Webster. Mr. 
 Webster replied instantly, " Let him be sent for." 
 
 Dr. Jeffries left the room to prepare a note for the purpose, and, 
 on returning, found that Mr. Webster had made all the arrange 
 ments necessary for its dispatch, having given minute directions 
 who should go ; what horse and what vehicle he should use ; 
 and what road he should follow ; where he should take a fresh 
 relay ; and how he should execute his errand on reaching 
 the city. . He also desired that some provision should be made for 
 summoning some other professional friend, if Dr. Warren could not 
 be found, or could not come ; and, on being told that this, too, had 
 been foreseen and cared for, he seemed much gratified, and said 
 emphatically, "Right, right." 
 
 After some repose, he conversed with Mrs. Webster, with his son, 
 and with two or three other of the persons nearest and dearest to 
 him in life, in the most affectionate and tender manner, not con 
 cealing from them his view of the approach of death, but consol 
 ing them with religious thoughts and assurances, as if support 
 were more needful for their hearts than for his own. On different 
 occasions, in the course of the day, he prayed audibly. Oftener, 
 he seemed to be in silent prayer and meditation. But, at all times, 
 he was quickly attentive to whatever was doing or needed to 
 be done. He gave detailed orders for the adjustment of whatever 
 in his affairs required it, and superintended and arranged every 
 thing for his own departure from life, as if it had been that of 
 another person, for whom it was his duty to take the minutest care. 
 
 After nightfall, he received at his bed side each member of his 
 family and household, the friends gathered under his roof, and the 
 servants, most of whom having been long in his service had 
 become to him as affectionate and faithful friends, It was a 
 solemn and religious parting, in which, while all around him were 
 overwhelmed with sorrow, he preserved his accustomed equanimity, 
 speaking to each words of appropriate kindness and consolation 
 which they will treasure hereafter among their most precious and 
 life-long possessions. 
 
37 
 
 During the whole course of his illness, Mr. Webster never spoke 
 of his disease or of hi-s sufferings, except in the most general terms, 
 or in order to give information to his medical advisers ; but it was 
 plain to Dr. Jackson, who was twice called in consultation ; to 
 Dr. Warren, who was with him during the last night of his life ; 
 and to Dr. Jeffries, who was his constant attendant from the first, 
 that he noted and understood everything that related to his condi 
 tion, and its successive changes. His conversation on this, as on 
 all other subjects, was perfectly easy and simple ; the deep tones of 
 his voice remained unchanged ; his gentleness was uniform ; and 
 the expressions of his affection to those who approached him, and 
 eren to those who were absent, but who were carefully remembered 
 him in messages of kindness, were true, tender, and faithful to the by 
 end. No complaint escaped from him ; nor did he show the least 
 impatience under his infirmities, or the least relunctance to die. 
 He felt the value and the power, of life, and was full of love for 
 his home and for all that surrounded him there and made him 
 happy. But his submission to the will of God was entire. 
 He said, on one occasion, "I shall lie here patiently until I 
 die ; " and he did so. But through those wearisome days, he 
 preserved his natural manner in every thing, and maintained, 
 without effort, those just and true relations between himself and all 
 persons, things, and occurrences about him, which through life had 
 marked him so strongly and had given such dignity and power to 
 his character. 
 
 From the morning of Saturday, when he had announced to his 
 attendant physician what nobody, until that time, had intimated 
 that he "should die that night," the whole strength of his great facul 
 ties seemed to be directed to obtain for him a plain and clear per 
 ception of his onward passage to another world, and of his feelings 
 and condition at the precise moment when he should be entering its 
 confines. Once, being faint, he asked if he were not then dying ? 
 and on being answered that he was not, but that he was near to 
 death, he replied simply, " Well ; " as if the frank and exact reply 
 
were what he had desired to receive. A little later, when his kind 
 physician repeated to him that striking text of Scripture, " Yea, 
 though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I 
 will fear no evil, for thou art with me ; thy rod and thy staff, they 
 comfort me " he seemed less satisfied, and said, " Yes ; but the 
 fact, the fact I want ; " desiring to know if he were to regard 
 these words as an intimation, that he was already within that dark 
 valley. On another occasion, he inquired whether it were 
 likely that he should again eject blood from his stomach before 
 death, and being told that it was improbable, he asked, "Then 
 what shall you do ? " Being answered that he would be supported 
 by stimulants, and rendered as easy as possible by the opiates that 
 had suited him so well, he inquired, at once, if the stimulant should 
 not be given immediately ; anxious again to know if the hand of 
 death were not already upon him. And on being told, that it 
 would not be then given, he replied, " When you give it to me, I 
 shall know that I may drop off at once." 
 
 Being satisfied on this point, and that he should, therefore, have 
 a final warning, he said a moment afterwards, " I will, then, put 
 myself in a position to obtain a little repose." In this he was 
 successful. He had intervals of rest to the last ; but on rousing 
 from them, he showed that he was still intensely anxious to preserve 
 his consciousness, and to watch for the moment and act of his 
 departure, so as to comprehend it. Awaking from one of these 
 slumbers, late in the night, he asked distinctly if he were alive, and 
 on Doing assured that he was, and that his family was collected 
 around his bed, he said, in a perfectly natural tone, as if assenting 
 to what had been told him, because he himself perceived that it was 
 true, " I still live." These were his last coherent and intelligible 
 words. At twenty-three minutes before three o clock, without a 
 struggle or a groan, all signs of life ceased to be visible ; his vital 
 organs giving away at last so slowly and gradually as to indicate, 
 what every thing during his illness had already shown, that his 
 intellectual and moral faculties still maintained an extraordinary 
 
39 
 
 mastery amidst the failing resources of his physical constitution. 
 And so there passed out of this world one of its great beneficent 
 and controlling spirits. As the sun rose on that quiet Sabbath 
 morning the expected, yet dreaded, event was announced as a 
 public calamity, first, by the solemn discharge of minute guns, and 
 afterwards by the tolling of bells, over a large part of the land a 
 spontaneous outbreak of the general feeling at the loss all had 
 suffered. How heavily it fell oh the hearts of men in this city, 
 where he was best known, and especially what deep grief, mingled 
 with bitter recollections of the past and anxious forebodings for 
 the future, marked each of the three memorable days, consecrated 
 as no three similar days ever were consecrated among us, to public 
 mourning, may be partly gathered from the records which this 
 volume is intended to collect and preserve. The rest little of 
 which can be recorded will dwell, among their saddest and most 
 sacred thoughts, in the memories of all who shared in the moving, 
 services of those solemn occasions, or who gathered around that 
 peaceful, seagirt grave, and will be transmitted by them to their 
 children, as the warning traditions of a great national sorrow. 
 
THE FUNERAL. 
 
 FRIDAY, October, 29, was the day of Mr. Webster s funeral. 
 Boston never before presented probably never will again present 
 ^-so general an aspect of mourning, and never were there wit 
 nessed such spontaneous, universal, and deep tokens of feeling. 
 Most of the shops were closed, as well as the public institutions, 
 offices, and markets ; and a large proportion of the city was 
 dressed in the habiliments of sorrow. The mourning draperies 
 upon many of the buildings, public and private, were rich, elabo 
 rate, and tasteful. Festoons of black and white were almost 
 continuous through Washington, Hanover, and other principal 
 streets ; and multiplied mottoes, expressing grief and admiration, 
 were placed upon walls and over door- ways. Flags, prepared with 
 inscriptions and dressed in mourning, were extended across the 
 streets. In general the mottoes and inscriptions were extremely 
 well chosen and appropriate, and were a proof, not only of the 
 estimation in which Mr. Webster was held in Boston, but of the 
 high standard of taste and cultivation among its citizens. 
 
 In the multiplicity of these personal and spontaneous expressions 
 of feeling, it is impossible to describe, or specify any ; but from 
 amongst the mottoes, of which more than a hundred were exhibited, 
 the following are selected : 
 
 His words of wisdom, with resistless power, 
 
 Have graced our brightest, cheered our darkest hour. 
 
 Thou hast instructed many and thou hast strengthened the weak hands. 
 
 "We re scanned the actions of his daily life and nothing meets our eyes but deedp 
 
 of honor. 
 
41 
 
 Some when they die, die all. Their mouldering clay is but an emblem of their 
 
 memories. But he has lived. He leaves a work behind which will pluck 
 
 the shining age from vulgar time, and give it whole to late 
 
 posterity. 
 
 Thou art mighty yet. Thy spirit walks abroad. 
 The great heart of the nation throbs heavily at the portals of his grave. 
 Live like patriots ! Live like Americans ! United all, united now, and united forever. 
 
 Wherever among men a heart shall be found that beats to the transports of patriotism 
 and liberty, its aspirations shall be to claim kindred with his spirit. 
 
 Then this Daniel was preferred above the Presidents and Princes, because 
 an excellent spirit was in him. 
 
 Know thou, stranger, to the fame 
 Of this much loved, much honored name, 
 (For none that knew him need be told, ) 
 A warmer heart Death ne er made cold. 
 
 The glory of thy life, like the day of thy death, shall not fail from the remembrance 
 
 of man. 
 
 Between twelve and one the hour of the funeral at Marshfield 
 minute guns were fired, and the bells of the churches were tolled ; 
 from sunrise to sunset guns were fired every fifteen minutes, 
 and almost continuously. Similar signs of mourning were heard 
 from the hills of the neighboring towns, and along the line of the 
 coast. The streets were crowded with citizens and visitors from 
 the country, reading the inscriptions and walking through the 
 public buildings, all wearing, upon their saddened countenances, 
 tokens of sincere sorrow. Though a day of leisure and entire ces 
 sation from labor there, and was no thought of anything but our 
 great loss. There were no smiling faces to be seen, and no 
 cheerful voices to be heard. 
 
 The ftmeral solemnities were at Mr. Webster s own residence 
 in Marshfield. In conformity with the wish expressed in his will, 
 everything was arranged with the utmost simplicity, in the order 
 usual in a New England funeral, but private it could not be. In 
 
42 
 
 addition to the general sense of loss in the lemoval of a great 
 leader and a statesman, in whose wisdom and firmness so strong a, 
 confidence was reposed, there was in many hearts a feeling of per 
 sonal bereavement in the death of a revered and beloved friend ; and 
 thus thousands were led to tne spot by a wish to honor his memory 
 and look once more upon his face. From all quarters, by every 
 path, and by every conveyance, great multitudes came together ; 
 and the whole number of persons assembled at the hour of noon 
 was probably not less than ten or twelve thousand. 
 
 A thoughtful consideration for the feelings of all who were 
 present was shown in the arragements of the funeral. In order 
 that the wish which all felt, to look for he last time upon the face 
 of the illustrious dead, might be gratified without hurry or confusion, 
 the body was brought from the library a-t an early hour in the 
 morning and placed upon the lawn, in front of the house, beneath 
 the open heavens and under a tree which, in its summer foliage, 
 was a conspicuous ornament of the spot. The majestic form 
 reposed in the familiar garb of life, with more than the dignity of 
 life in its most imposing moments. Suffering had changed, without 
 impairing those noble features. The grandeur of the brow 
 was untouched, and the attitude full of strength and peace. For 
 more than three hours a constant stream of men and women, of all 
 ages, passed on both sides, pausing for a moment to look upon that 
 loved and honored form. Parents held their children by the hand, 
 bade them contemplate the face of their benefactor, and charged 
 them never to lose the memory of that spectacle and that hour. 
 Many dissolved into tears as they turned .aside ; and one a man 
 of plain garb and appearance was heard to make in a subdued 
 voice, the striking remark, " Daniel Webster, the world will seem 
 lonesome without you." 
 
 The thoughtful and kindly feeling which dictated all the arrange 
 ments, permitted any who wished, to enter the house by the 
 principal entrance, walk through a small sitting-room, where hang 
 several family portraits, and going through the library, a beautiful 
 
43 
 
 and favorite room, ornamented with the likenesses of Mr. Webster 
 and Lord Ashburton, pass out upon the lawn. Thousands availed 
 themselves of this privilege, silently, decorously, sadly. There 
 was no sound from that vast multitude, but the inevitable grating * 
 of their feet upon the paths. This was like the chafing of the 
 surf upon a pebbly beach, a strange, impressive murmur. 
 
 At twelve, the passing through the house was stopped. Soon 
 afterwards, the Rev. EBENEZER ALDEN, pastor of the Congrega 
 tional Church in South Marshfield, where Mr. Webster had been 
 accustomed to attend public worship, commenced the religious 
 service by reading a selection from the Bible. After which, the 
 following address was made by him : 
 
 On an occasion like the present, a multitude of words were worse 
 than idle. Standing before that majestic form, it becomes ordinary 
 men to keep silence. " He being dead, yet speaketh." In the 
 words he applied to Washington, in the last great public discourse 
 he ever delivered, the whole atmosphere is redolent of his name ; 
 hills and forests, rocks and rivers, echo and re-echo his praises. 
 All the good, whether learned or unlearned, high or low, rich or 
 poor, feel this day that there is one treasure common to them all, 
 and that is the fame and character of Webster. They recount his 
 deeds, po.nder over his principles and teachings, and resolve to be 
 more and more guided by them in future. Americans by birth are 
 proud of his character, and exiles from foreign shores are eager to 
 participate in admiration of him ; and it is true that he is, this day, 
 he-re, everywhere, more an object of love and regard than on any 
 d y since his birth. 
 
 And while the world, too prone to worship mere intellect, 
 laments that the orator and statesman is no more, we enter upon 
 more sacred ground, and dwell upon the example and counsels of 
 a Christian, as a husband, father, and friend. I trust it will be 
 no rude wounding of the spirit, no intrusion upon the privacy of 
 domestic life, to allude to a few circumstances in the last scenes 
 
44 
 
 of the mortal existence of the great man who is gone, fitted 
 to administer Christian consolation, and to guide to a better 
 acquaintance with that religion which is adapted both to temper 
 our grief and establish our hope. 
 
 Those who were present upon the morning of that Sabbath upon 
 which this head of a family conducted the worship of his household, 
 will never forget, as he read from our Lord s Sermon on the Mount, 
 the emphasis which he alone was capable of giving to that passage 
 which speaks of the divine nature of forgiveness. They saw 
 beaming from that eye, now closed in death, the spirit of Him 
 who first uttered that godlike sentiment. 
 
 And he who, by the direction of the dying man, upon a subse 
 quent morning of the day of rest, read in their connection these 
 words: "Lord, I believe; help thou my unbelief;" and then 
 the closing chapter of our Saviour s last words to his disciples, 
 being particularly requested to dwell upon this clause of the verse 
 " Holy Father, keep through thine own name those w r hom thou 
 hast given me, that they may be one as we are " beheld a sublime 
 illustration of the indwelling and abiding power of Christian fai.h. 
 
 And if these tender rememberances only cause our tears to 
 flow more freely, it may not be improper for us to present the 
 example of the father, when hie great heart was rent by the loss 
 of a daughter whom he most dearly loved. Those present on that 
 occasion \vell remember when the struggle of mortal agony was 
 over, retiring from the presence of the dead, bowing together 
 before the presence of God, and joining with the afflicted father 
 as he poured forth his soul, pleading for grace and strength from 
 on high. 
 
 As upon the morning of his death we conversed upon the evident 
 fact that, for the last few weeks, his mind had been engaged in 
 preparation for an exchange of worlds, one who knew him, well 
 remarked, " His whole life has been that preparation." The people 
 of this rural neighborhood, among whom he spent the last twenty 
 years of his life, among whom he died, and with whom he is to 
 
45 
 
 rest, have been accustomed to regard him with mingled veneration 
 and love. Those who knew him best, can the most truly appre 
 ciate the lessons both from his- lips and example, teaching the 
 sustaining power of the Gospel. 
 
 His last words, " I ^TILL LIVE," we may interpret in a higher 
 sense than that in which they are usually regarded. He has taught 
 us how to attain the life of faith and the life to come. 
 
 Vividly impressed upon the memory of the speaker is the 
 instruction once received as to the fitting way of presenting divine 
 truth from the sacred desk. Would that its force might be felt by 
 those who are called to minister in divine things. Said Mr. 
 Webster, " When I attend upon the preaching of the Gospel, I 
 wish to have it made a personal matter, A PERSONAL MATTER, A 
 PERSONAL MATTER." It is to present him as enforcing 
 these divine lessons of wisdom and consolation, that we have 
 recalled to your minds these precious recollections. 
 
 And we need utter no apology. Indeed, we should be inexcu 
 sable in letting the present opportunity pass without unveiling the 
 inner sanctuary of the life of the foremost man of all this world ; for 
 his most intimate friends are well aware that he had it in mind to 
 prepare a work upon the internal evidences of Christianity, as a 
 testimony of his heartfelt conviction of the "divine reality" of the 
 Gospel of Jesus Christ. But, finding himself rapidly approaching 
 those august scenes of immortality into which he had so often looked, 
 he dictated the most important part of his epitaph. And so Ions: as 
 " the rock shall guard his rest, and the ocean sound his dirge," the 
 world shall read upon his monument, not only 
 
 One of the few, the immortal names, 
 "Which were not born to die ; 
 
 but also that Daniel Webster lived and died in the Chiistian faith. 
 The delineation w 7 hich he gave of one of his early and noble com 
 peers could never have been written except from an experimental 
 acquaintaince with that which he holds up as the chief excellence 
 
46 
 
 of his friend. This description we shall apply to himself, trusting 
 that it will be as well understood as admired. 
 
 Political eminence and professional fame fade away and die with 
 all things earthly. Nothing of character is really permanent but 
 virtue and personal worth. These remain. Whatever of excel 
 lence is wrought into the soul itself belongs to both worlds. Real 
 goodness does not attach itself merely to this life ; it points to 
 another world. Political or professional reputation cannot last 
 forever ; but a conscience void of offence before God and man is 
 an inheritance for eternity. Religion, therefore, is a necessary and 
 indispensable element in any great h*iman character. There is no 
 living without it. Religion is the tie that connects man with his 
 Creator and holds him to His throne. If that tie be all sundered, 
 all broken, he floats away, a worthless atom in the universe ; its 
 proper attractions all gone, its destiny thwarted, and its whole future 
 nothing but darkness, desolation, and death. A man with no sense 
 of religious duty is he whom the Scriptures describe in such terse 
 but terrific language, as living without God in the world. Such a 
 man is out of his proper being, out of the circle of all his duties, out 
 of the circle of all his happiness, and away, far, far away from the 
 purposes of his creation. 
 
 A mind like Mr. Webster s active, thoughtful, penetrating, sedate, 
 could not but meditate deeply on the condition of man below, and 
 feel its responsibilities. He could not look on this mighty system, 
 
 This universal frame, thus "wondrous fair, 
 
 without feeling that it was created and upheld by an Intelligence, 
 to which all other intelligence must be responsible. I am bound 
 to say that in the course of my life I never met with an individual 
 in any profession or condition, who always spoke and always 
 thought with such awful reverence of the power and presence 
 of God. No irreverence, no lightness, even no too familiar allusion 
 to God and his attributes ever escaped his lips. The very notion 
 of a Supreme Being was, with him, made up of awe and solemnity. 
 
47 
 
 It filled the whole of his great mind with the strongest emotions. 
 A man like him, with all his proper sentiments and sensibilities 
 alive in him, must, in this state ot existence, have something to 
 believe, and something to hope for ; or else, as life is advancing to 
 its close, all is heart-sinking and oppression. Depend upon it, 
 whatever may be the mind of an old man, old age is only really 
 happy when, on feeling the enjoyments of this world pass away, it 
 begin-s to lay a stronger hold on the realities of another. 
 
 Mr. Webster s religious sentiments and feelings were the crown 
 ing glories of his character. 
 
 The address was followed by a prayer. The rooms, hall, and 
 stairway, were filled by Mr. Webster s relatives and friends, while a 
 vast mass of listeners stood on the piazza, and on the lawn ; the 
 position of the clergyman, near the hall door, enabling many 
 to hear. 
 
 During the exercises, unperceived by the group round the clergy 
 man, arrangements were made for conveying the body to the tomb. 
 The metallic case, in which it was deposited, was covered, and 
 placed on a simple, low platform, drawn by one pair of black horses, 
 whose harness was slightly dressed with crape. The coffin was 
 covered with full black cloth, confined by several plated orna 
 ments ; a wreath of oak leaves was at the head ; another of fresh 
 flowers at the foot. 
 
 After a few moments pause, at the conclusion of the prayer, 
 two or three gentlemen quietly and gradually opened a path 
 through the dense mass of persons around the house. In solemn 
 silence, six of Mr. Webster s neighbors, Asa Hewett, Seth Weston, 
 Eleazer Harlow, J. P. Cushman, Tilden Ames, Daniel Phillips, took 
 their places on either side of his bier. His son, grandson, relatives, 
 domestics, and the persons having the charge and management of his 
 estates, stood next. Among the domestics were several colored 
 persons, who had been long in Mr. Webster s service, and were 
 deeply attached to him. One of them had been recently emanci- 
 
48 
 
 pated by him. The Governor of the Commonwealth, the Council 
 and State Officers, the Mayor of Boston and City Government, 
 distinguished citizens of Massachusetts, and many from the other 
 New England States, and delegations from other States and cities, 
 with hundreds of personal, devoted friends of Mr. Webster, quietly 
 passed into the long sad procession ; truly a sad procession ; for 
 the multitudes that lined the path for nearly the whole distance to 
 the tomb, where moved by the same grief that rested on the 
 hearts of the mourners. 
 
 The morning had been uncommonly beautiful. The air was 
 soft and warm, and the light so rich and golden, that the slight 
 shade still found under some few trees, had been grateful. Just as 
 the procession began to move, a chill breeze came up from the 
 ocean, and threw a veil of mist over the sky. 
 
 When the funeral train, all on foot, unheralded by official pomp, 
 military display, or even the strains of mourning music, had reached 
 the modest tomb, the honored form was rested at the entrance. It 
 was once more uncovered that the relatives and friends might again 
 and for the last time, look upon that majestic countenance ; a 
 fervent prayer was again offered ; and then, slowly and sadly, 
 friend and stranger passed away, and left the illustrious sleeper with 
 those whom he had so tenderly loved in life, and with whom death 
 had now reunited him. 
 
 The tomb, with its group of unpretending monuments, is on a 
 gentle eminence, about a mile from the mansion-house, and adjoin 
 ing the ancient village burying ground, where rests the dust of 
 some of the early Pilgrim Fathers. Mr. Webster had himself 
 superintended the preparation of the tomb, and the erection of the 
 monuments to the wife and children he had lost, directing that the 
 one erected to himself should be of the same style and proportions. 
 Over the door of the tombs is cut merely, "Daniel Webster." 
 On the three monuments within the inclosure, are the following 
 inscriptions. 
 
49 
 
 GRACE FLETCHER, 
 Wife of Daniel Webster, 
 Born January, 16, 1781, 
 Died January 21, 1828. 
 Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God. 
 
 JULIA WEBSTER. 
 
 wife of 
 
 Samuel Appleton Appleton ; 
 Born January, 16, 1818, 
 
 Died April 28, 1848. 
 Let me go, for the day breaketh. 
 
 MARY CONSTANCE APPLETON. 
 
 Born Feb. 7, 1848. 
 
 Died March 15, 1849. 
 
 MAJOR EDWARD WEBSTER 
 
 Born July 20, 1820. 
 Died at San Angel, in Mexico, 
 In the military service 
 of his country, 
 Jan. 23, 1848. 
 A dearly beloved son and brother. 
 
 As the multitude turned from the hallowed spot, many gathered 
 flowers, leaves, or even blades of grass, to be treasured as memo 
 rials of a day unequalled in solemn pathos, within their experience. 
 The effect upon the minds of all present, can never be described. 
 
 All things were in harmony, the beauty of the day, the falling 
 leaves, the countenances of the assembled multitude, the appropri 
 ate arrangements, the aspect of the autumnal landscape, all aided 
 in producing an elevated and tender mood of feeling, it was one 
 of those rare occasions in which a brief space of time is sufficient 
 to leave impressions, which all the experiences of future life will 
 not be able to efface. 
 
ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER. 
 
 Considered merely as literary productions, we think the three 
 volumes take the highest rank among the best productions of the 
 American intellect. *(They are thoroughly national in their spirit 
 and tone, and are full of principles, arguments and appeals) which 
 comes directly home to the hearts and understandings of the great 
 body of the people. They contain the results of a long life of 
 mental labor, employed in the service of the country. They give 
 evidence of a complete familiarity with the spirit and workings of 
 our institutions, and breath the bracing air of a healthy and 
 invigorating patriotism. They are replete with that true wisdom 
 which is slowly gathered from the exercise of a strong and com 
 prehensive intellect on the complicated concerns of daily life and 
 duty. They display qualities of mind and style which would give 
 them a high place in any literature, even if the subjects discussed 
 were less interesting and important ; and they show also a strength 
 of personal character, superior to irresolution and fear, capable of 
 bearing up against the most determined opposition, and uniting to 
 boldness in thought intrepidity in action. In all the characteristics 
 of great literary performances, they are fully equal to many works 
 which have stood the test of age, and baffled the skill of criticism. 
 Still, though read and quoted by everybody, though continually 
 appealed to as authorities, though considered as the products of the 
 most capacious understanding in the country, few seem inclined 
 to consider the high rank they hold in our literature, or their 
 
51 
 
 claim to be placed among the greatest works which the human 
 intellect has produced during the last fifty years. 
 
 The speeches of Daniel Webster are in admirable contrast with 
 the kind of oratory we have indicated. They have a value and 
 interest apart from the time and occasion of their delivery, for they 
 are store-houses of thought and knowledge. (The speaker descends 
 to no rhetorial tricks and shifts, he indulges in no parade of orna 
 ment. A self-sustained intellectual might is impressed on every 
 page. He rarely confounds the processes of reason and imagina 
 tion, even in those popular discourses intended to operate on large 
 assemblies. He betrays no appetite for applause, no desire to win 
 attention by the brisk life and momentary sparkle of flashing 
 declamation. Earnestness, solidity of judgment, elevation of senti 
 ment, broad and generous views of national policy, and a massive 
 strength of expression, characterize all his works. We feel, in 
 reading them,lthat he is a man of principles) not a man of expedi 
 ents ; that he never adopts opinions without subjecting them to 
 stern tests ; and tha-t he recedes from them only at the bidding of 
 reason and experience. He never seems to be playing a part, but 
 always acting a life. 
 
 The impression of power we obtain from Webster s productions, 
 & f a power not merely of the brain, but of the heart and physical 
 temperament, a power resulting from the mental and bodily consti 
 tution of the whole man, is the source of his hold upon our respect 
 and admiration. We feel that, under any circumstances, in any 
 condition of social life, and at almost any period of time, his great 
 capacity would have been felt and acknowledged. He does not 
 appear, li ke many eminent men, to be more peculiarly calculated 
 for his own age than for any other, to possess faculties and dispo 
 sitions which might have rusted in obscurity, had circumstances 
 been less jpropritious. We are sure that, as an old baron of the 
 feudal time, as an early settler of New England, as a pioneer in the 
 western forests, he would have been a Warwick, a Standish, or a 
 Boon. His childhood was passed in a small country village, where 
 
52 
 
 the means of education were scanty, and at a period when the 
 country was rent with civfl dissensions. A large majority of those 
 who are called educated men have been surrounded by all the 
 implements and processes of instruction; but Webster won his 
 education by battling against difficulties. " A dwarf behind a 
 steam-engine can remove mountains ; but no dwarf can hew them 
 down with a pick axe, and he must be a Titan that hurls them 
 abroad with his arms." Every step in that long journey, by which 
 the son of the New Hampshire farmer has obtained the highest rank 
 in social and political life, has been one of strenuous effort. The 
 space is crowded with incidents, and tells of obstacles sturdily met 
 and fairly overthrown. His life and his writings seem to bear testi 
 mony, that he can perform whatever he strenuously attempts. 
 His words never seem disproportioned to his strength. Indeed, he 
 rather gives the impression that he has powers and impulses in 
 reserve, to be employed when the occasion for their exercises 
 may arise. In many of his speeches, not especially perraded by 
 passion, we perceive strength, indeed, but strength " half-leaning 
 on his own right-arm." He has never yet been placed in circum 
 stances where the full might of his nature, in all its depth of 
 understanding, fiery vehemence of sensibility, and adamantine 
 strength of will, have been brought to bear on any one object, and 
 strained to their utmost. 
 
 We have referred to Webster s productions as being eminently 
 national. Every one familiar with them will bear out the state 
 ment. In fact, the most hurried glance at his life would prove, 
 that, surrounded as he has been from his youth by American influ 
 ences, it could hardly be otherwise. His earliest recollections 
 must extend nearly to the feelings and incidents of the Revolution. 
 His whole life since that period has been passed in the country of 
 his birth, and his fame and honors are all closely connected with 
 American feelings and institutions. His works all refer to the 
 history, the policy, the laws, the government, the social life, and the 
 destiny, of his own land. They bear little resemblance, in their 
 
53 
 
 tone and spirit, to productions of the same class on the other side 
 of the A.tlantic. They have come from the heart and understand 
 ing of one into whose very nature the life of his country has 
 passed. Without taking into view the influences to which his 
 youth and early manhood were subjected, so well calculated to 
 inspire a love for the very soil of his nativity, and to mould his 
 mind into accordance with what is best and noblest in the spirit 
 of our institutions, his position has been such as to lead him to 
 survey objects from an American point of view. His^ patriotism 
 has become part of his being. Deny him that, and you deny the 
 authorship of his works. It has prompted the most majestic flights 
 of his eloquence. It has given intensity to his purposes, and lent 
 the richest glow to his genius. It has made his eloquence a 
 language of the heart, felt and understood over every portion of 
 the land it consecrates. On Plymouth Rock, on Bunker s Hill, at 
 Mount Yernon, by the tombs of Hamilton, and Adams, and Jeffer 
 son, and Jay, we are reminded of Daniel Webster. \ He has done 
 what no national poet has yet succeeded in doing, associated 
 his own great genius with all in our country s history and scenery 
 which makes us rejoice that we are Americans. f^Over all those 
 events in our history which are heroical, he has cast the hues of 
 strong feeling and vivid imagination. He cannot stand on one 
 spot of ground, hallowed by liberty or religion, without being 
 kindled by the genius of the place ; he cannot mention a name, 
 consecrated by self-devotion and patriotism, without doing it 
 eloquent homage. Seeing clearly, and feeling deeply, he makes us 
 see and feel with him. That scene of the landing of Pilgrims, in 
 which his imagination conjures up the forms and emotions of our 
 New England ancestry, will ever live in the national memory. 
 We see, with him, the little " bark, with the interesting group on 
 its deck, make it slow progress to the shore." We feel, with 
 him, " the cold which benumbed," and listen, with him, " to the 
 winds which pierced them." Carver, and Bradford, and Standish, 
 and Brewster, and Allerton, look out upon us from the pictured 
 
54 
 
 page, in all the dignity with which virtue and freedom invest theif 
 martyrs ; and we see, too, " chilled and shivering childhood, house 
 less but for a mother s arms, couchless but for a mother s breast," 
 till our own blood almost freezes. 
 
 The readiness with which the orator compels our sympathies to 
 follow his own is again illustrated in the orations at Bunker Hill, 
 and in the discourse in honor of Adams and Jefferson. In reading 
 them, we feel a new pride, in our country, and in the great men 
 and great principles it has cherished. The mind feels an unwonted 
 elevation, and the heart is stirred with emotions of more than 
 common depth, by their majesty and power.) Some passages are 
 so graphic and true that they seem gifted with a voice, and to 
 speak to us from the page they illumine. The intensity of feeling 
 with which they are pervaded rises at times from confident hope to 
 prophecy, and lifts the soul as with wings. In that splendid close 
 to a remarkable passage in the oration on Adams and Jefferson, 
 what American does not feel assured, with the orator, that their 
 fame will be immortal ? " Although no sculptured marble should 
 rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record to their 
 deeds, yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they 
 honored. Marble columns may, indeed, moulder into dust, time 
 may erase all impress from the crumbling stone, but their fame 
 remains ; for with AMERICAN LIBERTY it rose, and with AMERICAN 
 LIBERTY ONLY can it perish. It was the last swelling peal of 
 yonder choir, THEIR BODIES ARE BURIED IN PEACE, BUT THEIR NAME 
 LIVETH EVERMORE," I catch the solemn song, I echo that lofty 
 strain of funeral triumph, THEIR NAME LIVETH EVERMORE/ " 
 
 In that noble burst of eloquence, in the speech on the Greek 
 Revolution, in which he asserts the power of the moral sense of 
 the world, in checking the dominion of brute force, and rendering 
 insecure the spoils of successful oppression, we have a strong 
 instance of his reliance on the triumph of right over might. 
 
 " This public opinion of the civilized world," he says, " may be silenced by mili 
 tary power, but it cannot be conquered. It is elastic, irrepressible, and invulnerable 
 
55 
 
 to the weapons of ordinary power. It follows the conqueror "back to the very scene 
 of his ovations ; it calls upon him to take notice, that Europe, though silent, is yet 
 indignant it shows him, that the sceptre of his victory is a barren sceptre, that it 
 shall confer neither joy nor honor, but shall, moulder to dry ashes in his grasp. In 
 the midst of his exultation, it pierces his ear with the cry of injured justice, 
 it denounces against him the indignation of an enlightened and civilized age ; it 
 turns to bitterness the cup of his rejoicing, and wounds him with the sting which 
 belongs to the consciousness of having outraged the opinion of mankind." 
 
 The most splendid image to be found in any of his works closes 
 a passage in which he attempts to prove that our fathers accom 
 plished the Revolution on a strict question of principle. 
 
 " It was against the recital of an act of parliament, rather than against any suffer 
 ing under its enactments, that they took up arms. They went to war against a pr cam- 
 lie I They fought seven years against a declaration. They poured out their treas 
 ures and their blood like water, in a contest in opposition to an assertion, which those 
 less sagacious, and not so well schooled in the principles of civil liberty, would have 
 
 regarded as barren phraseology, or mere parade of words On this question of 
 
 principle, while actual suffering was yet afar off, they raised their flag against a 
 power, to which, for purposes of foreign conquest and subjugation, Rome in the 
 height of her glory, is not to be compared, a power which has dotted over the 
 surface of the whole globe with her possessions and military posts, whose morning 
 drum-beat, following the sun, and keeping company with the hours, circles the earth 
 daily with one continuous and unbroken strain of the martial airs of England." 
 
 The imagination of Mr. Webster, if not that of a poet, is emi 
 nently the imagination which befits an orator and debater. A 
 statesman who is to present his views on a question of national 
 policy in lucid order, and to illustrate them by familiar pictures, 
 would fail in attaining his object, if he substituted fancies for reason, 
 or linked his reasoning with too subtile images. Mr. Webster s 
 imagination never leads him astray from his logic, but only illu 
 mines the path. It is no delicate Ariel, sporting with abstract 
 thought, and clothing it in a succession of pleasing shapes ; but a 
 power fettered by the chain of argument it brightens. Even in 
 his noblest bursts of eloquence, we are struck rather by the eleva 
 tion of the feeling, than the vigor of the imagination. For 
 
56 
 
 instance, in the Bunker Hill oration, he closes an animated passage 
 with the well-known sentence, " Let it rise till it meet the sun in 
 his coming ; let the earliest light of morning gild it, and parting day 
 linger and play upon its summit." If we take from this passage 
 all the phrases which are not strictly original, and separate the 
 sentiment from the invention, we shall find that it is not eminently 
 creative. 
 
 In Mr. Webster s style, we always perceive that a presiding 
 power of intellect regulates his use of terms. The amplitude of his 
 comprehension is the source of his felicity of expression. He bends 
 language into the shape of his thought ; he never accommodates 
 his thought to his language. The grave, high, earnest nature of 
 the man looks out upon us from his well-knit, massive, compact 
 sentences. We feel that we are reading the works of one whose 
 greatness of mind and strength of passion no conventionalism could 
 distort, and no exterior process of culture could polish into feeble 
 ness and affectation; of one who has lived a life, as well as passed 
 through a college, who has looked at nature and man as they are 
 in themselves, not as they appear in books. We can trace back 
 expressions to influences coming from the woods and fields, from 
 the fireside of the farmer, from the intercourse of social life. jThe 
 secret of his style is not to be found in Kames or Blair, but in his 
 own mental and moral constitution. (There is a tough, sinewy 
 strength in his diction, which gives it almost muscular power in 
 forcing its way to the heart and understanding.) Occasionally, his 
 words are of that kind which are called " half-battles, stronger 
 than most men s deeds." In the course of an abstract discussion, 
 or a clear statement of facts, he will throw in a sentence which 
 almost makes us spring to our feet. When vehemently roused, 
 either from the excitement of opposition, or in unfolding a great 
 principle which fills and expands his soul, or in paying homage to 
 some noble exemplar of virtue and genius, his style has a Miltonic 
 grandeur and roll, which can hardly be surpassed for majestic 
 eloquence. In that exulting rush of the mind, when every faculty 
 
57 
 
 is permeated by feeling, and works with all the force of passion, 
 his style has a corresponding swiftness and energy, and seems 
 endowed with power to sweep all obstacles from its path. In those 
 inimitable touches of wit and sarcasm, also, where so much depends 
 upon the collection and collocation of apt and expressive language, 
 and where the object is to pelt and tease rather than to crush, his 
 diction glides easily into colloquial forms, and sparkles with anima 
 tion and point. In the speech in reply to Hayne, the variety of his 
 style, is admirably exemplified. The pungency and force of many 
 strokes of sarcasm, in this celebrated production, the rare felicity 
 of their expression, the energy and compression of the wit, and the 
 skill with which all are made subsidiary to the general purpose of 
 the orator, afford fine examples of what may be termed the science 
 of debate. There is a good-humored mockery, covering, however, 
 much grave satire, in his reference to the bugbear of Federalism. 
 
 " We all know a process," he says, " by which the whole Essex Junto could, in 
 one hour, be washed white from their ancient federalism, and come out, every one 
 of them, an original democrat, dyed in the wool ! Some of them have actually under 
 gone the operation, and they say it is quite easy. The only inconvenience it occa 
 sions, as they tell us, is a slight tendency of the blood to the head, a soft suffusion, 
 which however, is very transient, since nothing is said by those they join calculated to 
 deepen the red in the cheek, but a prudent silence is observed in regard to all the past" 
 
 We have not considered Daniel Webster as a politician, but as 
 an American. We do not possess great men in such abundance 
 as to be able to spare one from the list. It is clearly our pride and 
 interest to indulge in an honest exultation at any signs of intellec 
 tual supremacy in one of our own countrymen. His talents and 
 acquirements are so many arguments for republicanism. They are 
 an answer to the libel, that, under our constitution, and in the 
 midst of our society, large powers of mind and marked individu 
 ality of character cannot be developed and nourished. We have 
 in Mr. Webster the example of a man whose youth saw the founda 
 tion of our government, and whose maturity has been spent in 
 
58 
 
 exercising some of its highest offices ; who was born on our soil, 
 educated amid our people, exposed to all tne malign and beneficent 
 influences of our society ; and who has acquired high station by no 
 sinuous path, by no sacrifice of manliness, principle, or individu 
 ality, but by a straight-forward force of character and vigor of 
 intellect. A fame such as he has obtained is worthy of the noblest 
 ambition ; it reflects honor on the whole nation ; it is stained by no 
 meanness, or fear, or subserviency ; it is the result of a long life of 
 intellectual labor, employed in elucidating the spirit of our laws 
 and government, in defending the principles of our institutions, in 
 disseminating enlarged views of patriotism and duty, and in enno 
 bling, by the most elevated sentiments of freedom and religion, the 
 heroic al events of our natural history. And we feel assured, 
 when the animosities of party have been stilled at the tomb, and 
 the great men of this generation have passed from the present 
 feverish sphere of excitement into the calm of history, that it will 
 be with feelings of unalloyed pride and admiration, that the scholar, 
 the lawyer, the statesman, the orator, the American, will ponder 
 over the writings of Daniel Webster. 
 
59 
 
 
 EULOGY, 
 
 BY WILBUR M. HAYWARD.. 
 
 The voices of national eulogy and sorrow unite to tell us, Daniel 
 Webster is numbered with the dead. Seldom has mortality seen a 
 sublimer close of an illustrious career. No American, since Wash 
 ington, has, to so great an extent, occupied the thoughts, and 
 moulded the minds of men. The past may hold back its tribute, 
 and the present give no light, but the future will show in colors of liv 
 ing truth the honor which is justly due him as the political prophet, 
 and great, intellectual light of the New World. His life-time labors 
 have been to defend the Constitution, to preserve the Union, to 
 honor the great men of the Revolution, to vindicate International 
 Law, to develop the resources of the country, and transmit the 
 blessings of good government to all who should thereafter walk on 
 American soil. 
 
 It is right that mourning should shroud the land. A star of mag 
 nitude and lustre has left the horizon and gone down to the realm 
 of death. Wherever on earth patriotism commands regard, and 
 eloquence leads captive the soul, it will be seen and felt that a truly 
 great man has been called away, and left a void which none can fill. 
 
 New Hampshire has lost her noblest column. She has no more 
 such granite left. Massachusetts will not soon cease weeping for 
 her adopted son. Plymouth Rock, Faneuil Hall, and Bunker Hill, 
 will forever speak of him whose eloquence has made them hallowed 
 spots in the remembrance of mankind. His ennobling flights of 
 reason, and lofty outbursts of oratoricaj power, give us evidence 
 clearer than the light of day, that genius will leave an impress on 
 
the human heart which time can not corrode, nor circumstance 
 destroy. 
 
 True greatness is not born in a day. It requires many years 
 to lay an adamantine foundation. Webster did not dazzle the 
 world with a sudden outburst of glory. But like the sun rising 
 amid clouds and dispelling sudden storms, he slowly attained the 
 meridian, and when at last called to set behind the horizon, left " the 
 world all light all on fire from the potent contact of his own 
 great spirit." His genius was not of that order which for a few 
 years illuminates the world, and then goes out, to be remembered 
 no more forever ; but, like the majesty of the monuments which 
 ages ofEgyptian toil had raised on the sands of the desert, and 
 which still mock the corrodings of time, his mind slowly matured, 
 and when it was brought into active life gave clear and conclu 
 sive evidence that monuments would crumble to dust and the sea 
 lave the shore no more before it would fail of grateful mention and 
 lasting homage. 
 
 It has been said that national ingratitude sent Webster home to 
 Marshfield to die. It is a base slander on his glorious career. 
 When his mission was filled, he went home to the grave undis 
 turbed by political clamor, or the thunders of a mercenary press. 
 All were unable to dethrone the majestyof his mind, to quench his 
 ardor and patriotism, or make less strong his love for, and devotion 
 to American LIBERTY and UNION. When Adams and Jefferson 
 died, Faneuil Hall was shrouded in mourning, and its arches rung 
 with his lofty and just commendations of their services to liberty 
 and mankind. From his eulogy on the occasion of their deaths, 
 with its sublime bursts of eloquence, will their fame go down to the 
 future in a manner more imperishable than sculptured marble or 
 monumental pile. Again, when the oration was pronounced upon 
 the landing of the Pilgrims on the rock of Plymouth, it was felt by all, 
 who in his burning words called to mind that lonely bark tossed on 
 the surges of an unknown sea, bearing as its freight liberty to worship 
 God according to the dictates of conscience that wheresoever, in 
 
61 
 
 all coming years the sons of that immortal band should spread the 
 light of civilization and blessings of good government the words 
 which he then and there uttered, would be read and kindle the fires 
 of patriotism on every hearth-stone, from the Eastern to the West 
 ern Ocean. Demosthenes, when in the pride of his manhood and 
 strength of mind, wrote and delivered the Oration on the Crown. 
 It has become the classical study of every age since then. Web 
 ster, also, when in the maturity of his intellect, on Bunker Hill, 
 which in days of revolutionary history had been watered with the 
 blood of American Freemen, gave evidence to the world that 
 although Demosthenes and the gates of Athens had crumbled 
 away to dust, a greater than Demosthenes now lived to give a last 
 ing influence to the character and destiny of the New World. The 
 reply to Hayne settled in the minds of all reasonable men the 
 question of State Rights and Nullification, then broached in Con 
 gress, to the great danger of the Union. May the Heavens be 
 rolled away as a scroll, and the elements melt with fervent heat, 
 before such sentiments shall fail of the knowledge and respect of 
 the American people. Webster s intellect resembled the glory of 
 noontide sun his profound reason would admit of no successful 
 answer. Equally at home, at the Bar, or in Congressional Halls, 
 he has won, in the noblest elements of manhood, the name of 
 God-like. 
 
 The sphere of* eloquence is directly with the minds of the masses. 
 It is a spontaneous spirit of genius, ever ready to show its power. 
 It rouses the patriotism of a continent, and leaves its impress on 
 the hearts of the people. Intelligence will bask in its sunshine. 
 Ignorance will bow down and worship a power which it cannot 
 comprehend. Oral tradition will transmit from generation to gene 
 ration. It cannot be dimmed by lapse of ages, or lost in any revo 
 lution of human affairs. 
 
 Sad and unwelcome are the events which mark the age. Death 
 has thrown a deep and sombre pall over the land. Tearful is 
 Columbia s eye, and desolate is her heart. Her temple is shrouded in 
 
62 
 
 gloom its aisles are thronged with mourners its columns are 
 wreathed with cypress. The muffled bell is but the echo of the 
 muffled heart. Elegy has stifled encomium ; panegyric has yielded 
 to sorrow ; grief has become the most befitting eulogy. The heroes 
 of the Revolution have met the only foe they could not conquer, 
 achieved the only victory that will endure, and won the only laurels 
 that will not fade. The Conscript Fathers are no more ; one by 
 one they have passed away to a brighter and a happier sphere. 
 They are all gone forever Creators, Preservers, and Defender 
 all ! Their mighty missions are ended their work is done ; death 
 has hallowed their memories, and immortal life has sanctified their 
 careers ! Washington and Adams, and Jefferson and Madison, and 
 CalhoiHi and Clay! Illustrious immortals! How we delight to 
 dwell upon their virtues, and linger on their memories ! While we 
 would not recall them from their high abode, fain would we still have 
 kept back ONE from that resplendent throng ! Mount Vernon ! and 
 Quincy, and Monticello, and Ashland ! 
 
 " Ye dusky palaces whose gloom is \red 
 * To mighty names ! " 
 
 Hallowed are thy memories, and sacred thy dust! Still g la dly 
 would we yet longer have withheld MARSHFIELD from that mournful 
 catalogue ! But alas ! that soul sublime has already passed the 
 stream of death * * * " to breathe 
 
 with that long and bright array who are reaping the reward 
 of unsullied virtue and unbending faith! The last and noblest 
 of those glorious lights which had shone so long and so brightly 
 in the great American constellation, as to dazzle the world with 
 its splendor, has suddenly gone out Gone out ? No ! It still 
 beams with bright refraction around that deep, dark veil which has 
 eclipsed its "fervent heat," and thrown its " radiant light " to heaven* 
 A cloud has passed over its fair disc but to image upon a darker 
 screen its richer tints, and its more golden hues ! 
 
63 
 
 Well may Columbia droop her queenly head, when her Defender 
 has fallen ! fallen on the field where he had won so many amaranth 
 ine wreaths, in advance of the ranks whose courage had been 
 strengthened by his word, and at trie very post which Nature had 
 reserved for his mighty and commanding intellect. Born among 
 the rough, rugged mountains of New Hampshire, that Switzerland 
 of America where Nature, w r hose domain it seems almost sacri 
 lege for art to invade, has vied with herself in her sublime crea 
 tions, his mind, like her mountains, was fashioned in a giant 
 mould, and caught its bold outlines from their granite walls. 
 
 The fires of the Revolutionnad just ceased to burn the sword 
 had just returned to the scabbard the last boom of the cannon 
 had just died away on the parapets of Yorktown the breath of 
 Liberty had blown back on the shores of England the fiery tide 
 of unavailing resistance, strown thick with the wrecks of her 
 wealth, her power and her glory. 
 
 Early had he learned to lisp the names of those brave men whose 
 patriotism and self-devotion is attested by a mighty chain of monu 
 ments, from the heights of Bennington and Bunker Hill, to the plains 
 of Monmouth and Eutau. The age of creative power had come. His 
 eye was opened upon another contest. High hopes begat noble 
 designs. Renowned champions were in the field. Lofty ends were 
 to be accomplished, and noble destinies achieved. A mighty con 
 flict of opinion was to follow in the bloody track of the Revolution. 
 Bold and heroic thoughts generated diversity of sentiment, and 
 gave birth to God-like acts. Interest, deep and intense, filled every 
 bosom. All were launched upon a pathless and an unexplored sea. 
 The polar star had not yet risen. "The needle of Republican 
 Destiny was quivering in the doubtful gale of Experiment." The 
 magnet of public sentiment must be tempered to the pulse and 
 rivited to the great heart of the Republic. That noble object is 
 accomplished. The sound of discord has died away. Private 
 interest has yielded to lofty patriotism. Light has burst in upon 
 the storm and spanned the heavens with a bow of promise. While 
 
64 
 
 from the very head of disorder, Minerva-like, sprang that mighty 
 prodigy of wisdom the grand Charter of American Liberty 
 the CONSTITUTION. 0! glorious consummation! Happy! thrice 
 happy, auspicious day ! Little thought New Hampshire that she 
 was then nourishing among the obscurities of her rugged mountains 
 an Olympian mind, which was yet to pour its light in one intense 
 and concentrated focus upon every letter of that sublime and let 
 me add imperishable Oracle! Little thought she that in her 
 granite soil was striking deep a giant palm, which should yet tower 
 far above her dizzy mountains, and under whose sturdy branches 
 spreading all over the limits of a continent, should repose, insepa 
 rably bound together by a bright fraternal chain, the freest and 
 happiest nation on the globe. 
 
 Trite and insipid would it be in me to trace anew that mighty 
 genius through his wonderful career. There are his acts, noble, 
 lofty, god-like ! They are their own historians ! There are his 
 thoughts, high, heroic, and sublime ! They stand alone, unequalled, 
 unalloyed, imperishable. They are the world s legacy. His fame 
 has taken the pinions of ubiquity ; it is already enchased deep in 
 the hearts of grateful millions, "and there it will remain for ever." 
 
 The great American Triumvirate is at length ended. Clay, and 
 Calhoun, and Webster ! How unlike Crassus, and Pompey, and 
 CaBsar ! They lived for glory, and power, and Empire ; and each 
 in turn met the fatal blow of the assassin. The first fell by the 
 mad revenge of a foreign foe. The ambition of the latter was too 
 strong for their friendship. From the gory locks of Pompey, Cae 
 sar turned away and wept, Ca3sar, who in his giant strides for 
 Empire, fell beneath the dagger of "the self appointed executioner 
 of his country s vengeance !" How marked the contrast ! How 
 wide the difference ! Our Triumvirs lived for their country, la 
 bored for its institutions, dedicated the ardor of youth, the power 
 of manhood, and the wisdom of age, to its sublime and sacred 
 service. And when Death, the tardy assassin, approached, with 
 faltering step, the sanctuary of their lives, he found it tenanted by 
 
65 
 
 no ambitious and bloodstained conquerors ; its arches hung with 
 no escutcheons of heraldric blazonry ; its galleries strung with no 
 moldering laurels, or worn and rust clad mail ; its porches flashing 
 wit h no falchion lances of chivalric knights ; but he found that tem 
 ple swept and garnished ; the aged priests at its altar clothed in the 
 pure white robes of virtue, its laurelled arches twined with ama 
 ranth, its galleries hung thick with the trophies of wisdom and elo 
 quence, and its ivied porches glittering with the gems of immor 
 tality. The Caesar of our Triumvirate fell by a higher decree 
 than the sword of Brutus, and left a nation of Antonies to mourn 
 his fall. 
 
 If calumny, and detraction, and jealousy, would not permit him 
 to stand at the head of the Republic, his own mighty genius, his 
 noble and commanding intellect, his broad and unwavering patri 
 otism, have made him the enshrined idol of a nation s heart and 
 won for him an incontestable geatness to which that of Dictator, 
 or Consul, or Tribune, or President, are poor and mean. 
 
 Daniel Webster s character was the arbiter of his high career. 
 Such a character will be great without honor. Offices and emolu 
 ments do not, cannot give greatness. They can only sanction 
 and recognize the existence of that wisdom and those virtues which 
 can alone confer an official rank and authority, whatever of true 
 honor and glory they possess. 
 
 In an age of great men, he who by superior genius rises above 
 or stands in advance of his age, has far higher claims to greatness 
 than he who stands alone, like a solitary mountain in a desert plain, 
 or a single star, sparkling in the vault of night. The one, by its 
 solitary magnificence may seem to pierce the heavens with its 
 Olympian peak, in comparison with the monotony of the surround 
 ing waste v The other, by its lonely splendor, may attract the gaze 
 and win the admiration of the world. Yet that mountain shall 
 dwindle to insignificance, when seen amid the myriad towering 
 summits of Alpine grandeur, 
 
 " Soaring, snow clad, through their native sky, 
 5 In the wild pomp of mountain majesty." 
 
66 
 
 And that star shall lose the splendor of its blaze, when the cloud- 
 curtain is removed, and a million orbs flash their mingled radiance 
 across its glittering beams. So Daniel Webster, standing as he 
 did, in an age almost unparalleled in the annals of the world, for 
 the brilliancy and the splendor of its talent and its worth ; in 
 the profoundness of its philosophers, the purity of its statesmen, 
 the magnificence of its orators an age which has opened to 
 posterity, as its priceless legacy, the deepest and richest fountains 
 of intellectual light which has ever burst upon the world ; in a 
 word, an age which has enshrined more of true worth for merited 
 immortality than any other in ihe^records of the past, illumined as 
 it was by the resplendent genius of a galaxy which Clay, and Cal- 
 houn, and Adams, and Hamilton, and Hayne, and Wirt, and Ames, 
 and Everett, and Story, enlightened with their counsels, brightened 
 with their wisdom, and electrified with their eloquence. 
 
 In such an age, the Augustan age of America, Daniel Webster 
 was the Cicero. In such a constellation, the versatility of his talents, 
 the splendor of his genius, the grandeur of his philosophy, and the 
 prophet-like ken of his statesmanship, all congregated in one mighty 
 mind, clothed him with a light, which, while it throws a halo 
 around the genius of his age, shall light up, by the glitter of its re 
 flected beams the darkest page in the unpenned history of the 
 world. 
 
 His was a great and celebrated name : 
 
 " Clarum et venerabile nomen geutibus, 
 Et multum nostrce quod proderat urbi." 
 
 Daniel Webster was great in all the elements of his character. 
 Great in oxigjinal mental strength great in varied and vast ac 
 quirements great in quick and keen perception great in subtle, 
 logical discrimination great in force of thought great in power 
 of intense and rigid analysis great in rare and beautiful combi 
 nation of talent great in ability to make an effort and command 
 his power great in range and acuteness of vision, he could see 
 like a prophet. Hence, his decision of character his bold, manly 
 
67 
 
 and independent thought his whole sovereignty of mind. No 
 man, probably, ever lived, who could calculate with such mathe 
 matical certainty the separate effect of human actions, or the intri 
 cate, combined and complicated influence of e\ery movement, 
 social, political, or personal. He could define and determine the 
 very destiny of influence. With him cause and effect w r ere coeval. 
 He was the very Oracle of Philosophy, high, noble, Godlike Phi 
 losophy, -not that technical and disputaceous philosophy, which is 
 so filled up with polemic subtleties as to isolate its influence and 
 neutralize its effect on human destiny, but a practical, utilitarian 
 philosophy, one which weaves its influence into the very warp 
 and woof of human actions, and pervades the whole fabric of life. 
 This is the key to the problem of his greatness, an explanation to 
 the miracle of his power. We are proud of his greatness, because 
 it is American wholly American ! The very impulses of his heart 
 were American. The spirit of American Institutions had infused 
 itself into his life had become a part of his being. He was proud 
 of his country, proud of her commerce, proud of her manufac 
 tures, proud of her agriculture, proud of her institutions of art / 
 and science, and proud of her wealth, her resources and her labor. 
 And all in turn were proud of him. 
 
 His patriotism was not bounded by the narrow limits of sectional 
 interest, not hemmed in by State lines, nor regulated and biassed 
 by local policies. It \vas as broad as his country. He knew a 
 North and a South, an East and a West ; but he knew them only 
 as one, "One and Inseparable!" _^ 
 
 Though differing in name, and separated by territorial barriers, 
 yet warmed to life by the same breath, nourished by the same 
 hand, protected by the same care, reared by the same power, united 
 by a common bond, possessing a common hope, a common aim, a 
 common interest and a common destiny. To preserve that bond, 
 to secure that hope, to protect that interest, and to guard that des 
 tiny, was the high mission of his life. Daniel Webster did not be 
 long to New Hampshire, nor to Massachusetts, nor to South Caro- 
 
68 
 
 lina; but to ALL. His sympathies were as true and as broad as 
 his patriotism, and both kept pace with the ever advancing Ter- 
 minus of his country s Empire. 
 
 P olitics, like philosophy, has ever had its schools. Like philoso 
 phy too, it has had its Platos, its Zenos, and its Aristotles. Daniel 
 Webster was the Plato of that great American school, who have 
 ever advocated " The Indivisible Unity of this Confederacy," and 
 Protection to American Industry, in all her mighty avenues, 
 Commercial, Manufacturing, Agricultural and Mechanical. He 
 would throw the broad, strong shield of Law around the GENIUS OF 
 LABOR, consecrated by the GENIUS OF LIBERTY. In this he saw the 
 only response to that sublime interrogation " What has conferred 
 upon poverty itself a power and a dignity which wealth, and pomp, 
 and royalty, cannot secure ?" The GENIUS O.F LABOR, consecrated 
 by the GENIUS OF LIBERTY, is the clarion voice echoed from the 
 hamlets in a million dales, and the cities on a thousand plains ! 
 The GENIUS OF LABOR, consecrated by the GENIUS OF LIBERTY, is 
 the joyous response of twenty millions of happy and exulting hearts. 
 The GENIUS OF LABOR, consecrated by the GENIUS OF THAT LIBERTY, 
 which has written, " COLUMBIA, HAPPY AND FREE !" as with the 
 finger of Ubiquity, on the pure canvass of ten thousand flags of 
 Commerce warbles it in the hum of her million spindles, repeats 
 it in the rattle of her myriad looms, chants it in the sound of the 
 ax and the hammer, in her legion workshops and her reddening 
 forges, sounds it in the low bass of the mill wheel, and prolongs it in 
 the united and joyous chorus of her unnumbered avenues of indus 
 try. The Genius of Labor has made the son of toil a peasant, 
 consecrated by the Genius of Liberty, it has made him a Prince! 
 And beneath the resplendent dome of this immense and magnificent 
 Temple of Freedom, whose brilliance reflects the accumulated light 
 of ages, he would see them inseparably bound together! LIBERTY 
 and LABOR ! " Live ! incomparable pair !" Let thy hands be linked 
 in indissoluble union. Let nothing separate thee ! Let these Sister 
 Genii ever walk togethe r, like Mercy and Truth ; let them meet 
 
69 
 
 each other, like Righteousness and Peace , let them kiss each. other. 
 Like Ruth to Naomi let each say to the other, " Where thou 
 goest I will go, and where thou diest I will die !" In fine, he 
 would present to the world the sublime realization of a Republic, 
 surpassing in grandeur and purity the most brilliant ideals of Py 
 thagoras, or the noblest day dreams of Plato. 
 
 As a diplomatist, the world has never seen his equal. He wielded / 
 the pen of the nation with a power, a dignity and a grandeur, wholly A 
 unparalleled in the annals of diplomacy. When clouds and dark 
 ness gloomed the heavens, when the storm had gathered, ready 
 to burst in fury, when the whole Republic every moment feared 
 the mighty convulsive shock which should mar and shatter the fa 
 bric of their hopes, then, standing on the summit of the trembling 
 Acropolis, the Angel of Deliverance, he threw his burning chain 
 over the cloud and drew the lightning in safety from the heavens ! 
 
 But it is as Senator in that grand Forum of the Nations congre 
 gated wisdom, power and eloquence, we see him towering in all 
 the majesty and supremacy of his greatness the mighty bulwark 
 of the Nation s hope the august arbiter of the Nation s Destiny. 
 How grand ! how sublime ! how imperial ! how god-like ! It was 
 here that he occupied the uncontested throne of human great 
 ness ; exhibited himself to the world in all his grand and magnificent 
 proportions w r ore a crown studded with gems that an Emperor 
 might covet won an immortality of envied honor, and covered 
 himself with a glory, brighter and purer and higher than a con 
 queror has ever been permitted to achieve. Here he proved him 
 self the conservator of Constitutional Liberty, and bequeathed to 
 history an appellation, every letter of which shall glow with grateful 
 undiminished lustre, when the hand that penned it shall be forgotten 
 and the deeds it records shall be buried among the dim legends of 
 tradition. It was in this high arena that he "became enamored of 
 glory, and was admitted to her embrace." 
 
 Eloquence was his panoply his very stepping stone to fame. 
 She twined upon his brow a wreath which antiquity might covet 
 
70 
 
 inspired his soul with a Divinity which shaped his lofty destiny, and 
 threw a light upon his track of glory which no fortune could 
 obscure. She bore him up to the Pisgah of Renown, where he sat 
 solitary and alone, the monarch of a realm, whose conqueror wears 
 no bloody laurels whose fair domain no carnage can despoil, and 
 inAvhose bright crown no pillaged pearls are set. 
 }S As a Forensic orator, I know of no age, past or present, which can 
 boast his superior. He united the boldness and energy of the Gre 
 cian, and the grandeur and strength of the Reman, to an original, 
 sublime simplicity, which neither Grecian nor Roman possessed. 
 He did not deal in idle declamati on and lofty expression ; his ideas 
 were not e mbalmed in rhetorical embellishments, nor buried up in 
 the superfluous tinselry of metaphor and trcpe. He clothed them 
 for the occasion, and if the crisis demanded, they stood forth naked, 
 in all their native majesty, armed with a power which would not 
 bend to the passion, but only stooped to conquer the reason. Sub 
 lime, indeed, it was to see that giant mind when roused in all its 
 grandeur, sweep over the fields of reason and imagination, bearing 
 down all opposition, as with the steady and resistless power of the 
 ocean billows, to see the eye, the brow, the gesture, the whole man 
 speaking with an utterance to sublime for language a logic too 
 lofty for speech. He spoke like a Divinity 
 
 Each conception was a heavenly guest, 
 
 A ray of immortality, and stood 
 
 Starlike, around, until they gathered to a God 1" 
 
 The highest honors America can confer upon her noblest son, 
 can prove but her bankruptcy. She can never rear a colossal 
 monument worthy of his towering genius. He needs no marble 
 column or sculptured urn to perpetuate his memory, or tell his 
 worth to rising generations. 
 
 Exegit " monumentum aere perenniutf 
 Regalique situ pyramidum altius," 
 
 His fame shall outlive marble, for when time shall efface every 
 
71 
 
 letter from the crumbling stone, yea, when the marble itself shall 
 dissolve to dust, his memory shall be more deeply encased in the 
 hearts ol unborn millions, and from his tomb shall arise a sacred 
 incense which shall garnish the concave of his native sky with the 
 brightest galaxy of posthumous fame, and on its broad arch of 
 studded magnificence shall be braided in " characters of living light/ 
 Daniel Webster ! the great Defender of the Constitution ! 
 
 The nation mourns, and well it may. He has left a void which 
 none can fill laid forever at rest in the humble grave, by the side 
 of the sea the wild waves sing his requiem. With Mount 
 Vernon arid Ashland, his tomb will be a place w r here men in all 
 coming time will resort, to bring away memorials from the sanctu 
 ary of the mighty dead. Patriotism, when it desponds, will go 
 there, look and live ; factional strife and sectional jealousy will feel 
 rebuked when they visit the last resting place of him whose labors 
 of a lifetime were to transmit the blessings of life and liberty, and 
 the pursuit of happiness which God ordained should first be made 
 manifest in America. Not far from his grave is that hallowed spot 
 in American history, where 
 
 " The heavy night hung dark 
 
 The hills and waters o er, 
 As a band of exiles moored their bark 
 
 On wild New England s shore." 
 
 The beams of the setting sun will fall with a mellowed light on 
 the spot where the majestic form of Webster moulders back to 
 dust, and where the anthem of the Puritan was heard as he came 
 to build an altar to his God, and find a quiet tomb. 
 
 It is not with the vain hope of adding a single ray to the already 
 dazzling focus of his fame, that we have attempted to eulogize his 
 worth ; but with the high purpose of testifying those feelings of 
 reverence and admiration, next to idolatry, which, in the contem 
 plation of so sublime a character, burn in the bosom of every 
 American youth, that we have dared to approach the tomb of buried 
 greatness, and twine a single laurel in the cypress that overhangs 
 
72 
 
 his sepulchre of glory. May the worshipper of after years approach 
 that hallowed shrine with no empty offering of idle curiosity, no 
 vain and soulless orisons, but with grateful and devout homage 
 may the pilgrims of another age journey with reverent adoration 
 to that consecrated spot, and, arched upon its humble tablet, read, 
 in that simple but significant epitah, " I still liver the high, pro 
 phetic record of the last and sublimest victory of his life that of 
 the unblenching spirit over death. 
 
 The sun that illumined that planet of clay, 
 
 Had sunk in the west of an unclouded day, 
 
 And the cold dews of Death stood like diamonds of light 
 
 Thickly set in the pale dusky forehead of night ; 
 
 From each gleamed a ray of that fetterless, soul, 
 
 Which had bursted its prison, despising control, 
 
 And careering above, o er earth s darkness and gloom, 
 
 Inscribed, " I still live" on the arch of the tomb. 
 
 The gleam of that promise shall brighten the page 
 Of the Prophet and Statesman thro each rolling age; 
 He lives I prince and peasant shall join the acclaim ; 
 No fortune can make him the martyr of Fame. 
 He lives ! from the grave of the Patriot Greek 
 Comes the voice of the dead, which tho silent, shall speak 
 Light leaps from the cloud which has deepened her gloom, 
 And flashes its glance on the arch of his tomb I 
 
 He lives ! ever lives, in the hearts of the Free ; 
 The wing of his fame spreads across the broad sea ; 
 He lives where the banner of Freedom s unfurled ; 
 The pride of New England the wealth of the world I 
 Thou land of tho Pilgrim I how hallowed the bed 
 "Where thy Patriot sleeps, and thy heroes have bled 1 
 Let age after age in perennial bloom 
 Braid the light of Lhy stars on the arch of his tomb I 
 

 73 
 
 ADAMS AND JEFFERSON, 
 
 DELIVEKED AUGUST 2D, 1826. 
 
 THIS is an unaccustomed spectacle. For the first time, fellow citizens, 
 badges of mourning shroud the columns and overhang the arches of this Hall. 
 These walls, which were consecrated, so long ago, to the cause of American 
 liberty, which witnessed her infant struggles, and rung with the shouts of her 
 earliest victories, proclaim now that distinguished friends and champions of 
 that great cause have fallen. It is right that it should be thus. The tears 
 which flow, and the honors that are paid, when the Founders of the Republic 
 die, give hope that the Republic itself may be immortal. It is fit, that by 
 public assembly and solemn observance, by anthem and by eulogy, we com 
 memorate the services of national benefactors, extol their virtues, and render 
 thanks to God for eminent blessings, early given and long continued, to our 
 favored country. 
 
 ADAMS and JEFFERSON are now no more; and we are assembled, fellow 
 citizens, the aged, the middle aged and the young, by the spontaneous impulse 
 of all, under the authority of the municipal government, with the presence of 
 the chief magistrate of the Commonwealth, and others its official representa 
 tives, the university, and the learned societies, to bear our part, in those mani 
 festations of respect and gratitude which universally pervade the land. ADAMS 
 and JEFFERSON are no more. On our fiftieth anniversary, the great day of 
 National Jubilee, in the very hour of public rejoicing, in the midst of echoing 
 and re-echoing voices of thanksgiving, while their own names were on all 
 tongues, they took their flight, together to the world of spirits. 
 
 If it be true that no one can safely be pronounced happy while he lives ; if 
 that event which terminates life can alone crown its honors and its glory, what 
 felicity is here ! The great Epic of their lives, how happily concluded ! Poe 
 try itself has hardly closed illustrious lives, and finished the career of earthly 
 renown, by such a consummation. If we had the power, we could not wish to 
 reverse this dispensation of the Divine Providence. The great objects of lifo 
 were accomplished, the drama was ready to be closed ; it has closed ; our pat 
 riots have fallen ; but so fallen, at such age, with such coincidence, on such a 
 day, that we cannot rationally lament that that end has come, which we knew 
 could not be long deferred. 
 
 Neither of these great men, fellow citizens, could have died, at any time, 
 without leaving an immense void in our American society. They have been 
 so intimately, and for so long a time blended with the history of the country, 
 especially so united, in our thoughts and recollections, with the events of tho 
 
74 
 
 Revolution, that the death of either would have touched the strings of public 
 sympathy. We should have felt that one great link, connecting us with 
 former times, was broken ; that we had lost something more, as it were, of the 
 presence of the Revolution itself, and of the act of independence, and were 
 driven on, by another great remove, from the days of our country s early dis 
 tinction, to meet posterity, and to mix with the future. Like the mariner, 
 whom the ocean and the winds carry along, till the stars which have directed 
 his course, and lighted his pathless way, descend, one by one, beneath the 
 rising horizon, we should have felt that the stream of time had borne us 
 onward, till another great luminary, whose light had cheered us, and whose 
 guidance we had followed, had sunk away from our sight. 
 
 But the concurrence of their death, on the anniversary of Independence, has 
 naturally awakened stronger emotions. Both had been presidents, both had 
 lived to great age, both were early patriots, and both were distinguished and 
 ever honored by their immediate agency in the act of independence. It can 
 not but seem striking and extraordinary, that these two should live to see the 
 fiftieth year from the date of that act ; that they should complete that year ; and 
 that then, on the day which had fast linked forever their own fame with their 
 country s glory, the heavens should open to receive them both at once. As 
 their lives themselves were the gifts of Providence, who is not willing to recog 
 nize in their happy termination as well as in their long continuance, proofs that 
 our country, and its benefactors, are objects of His care ? 
 
 ADAMS and JEFFERSOX, I have said, are no more. As human beings 
 indeed, they are no more. They are no more, as in 1776, bold and fearless ad 
 vocates of independence ; no more as on subsequent periods, the head of the 
 government ; no more as we have recently seen them, aged and venerable ob 
 jects of admiration and regard. They are no more. They are dead. But 
 how little is there, of the great and good, which can die ! To their country 
 they yet live, and live forever. They live in all that perpetuates the remem 
 brance of men on earth ; in the recorded proofs of their own great actions in 
 the offspring of their intellect, in the deep engraved lines of public gratitude, 
 and in the respect and homage of mankind. They live in their example ; and 
 they live, emphatically, and will live in the influence which their lives and 
 efforts, their principles and opinions, now exercise, and will continue to exer 
 cise, on the affairs of men, not only in their own country, but throughout the 
 civilized world. A superior and commanding human intellect, a truly great 
 man, when Heaven vouchsafes so rare a gift, is not a temporary flame, burning 
 bright for a while, and then expiring, giving place to returning darkness. It 
 is rather a spark of fervent heat, as well as radiant light, with power to enkin 
 dle the common mass of human mind ; so that when it glimmers, in its own 
 decay, and finally goes out in death, no night follows; but it leaves the world 
 all light, all on fire, from the potent contact of its own spirit. Bacon died ; 
 but the human understanding, roused by the touch of his miraculous wand, to 
 a perception of the true philosophy, and the just mode of inquiring after truth, 
 has kept on its course, successfully and gloriously. J^ewton died ; yet the 
 courses of the spheres are still known, and they yet move on, in the orbits 
 which he saw, and described for them, in the infinity of space. 
 
 No two men now live, fellow-citizens, perhaps it may be doubted, whether 
 any two men have ever lived, in one age, who, more than those we now com 
 memorate, have impressed their own sentiments, in regard to politics and gov 
 ernment, on mankind, infused their own opinions more deeply into the opinions 
 of others, or given a more lasting direction to the current of human thought. 
 
75 
 
 Their work dotli not perish with them. The tree which they assisted to plant, 
 will flourish, although they water it and protect it no longer ; for it has struck 
 its roots deep, it has sent them to the very centre ; no storm, not of force to 
 burst the orb, can overturn it; its branches spread wide; they stretch their 
 protecting arms broader and broader, and its top is destined to reach the 
 heavens. We are not deceived. There is no delusion here. No age witf 
 come, in which it will cease to be seen and felt, on either continent, that ? 
 mighty step, a great advance, not only in American affairs, but in human 
 affairs, was made on the 4th of July, 1776. And no age will come, we trust 
 so ignorant or so unjust, as not to see and acknowledge the efficient agency 
 of those we now honor, for producing that momentous event. 
 
 We are not assembled, therefore, fellow citizens, as men overwhelmed with 
 calamity by the sudden disruption of the ties of friendship or affection, or as 
 in despair for the Republic, by the untimely blighting of its hopes. Death 
 has not surprised us by an unseasonable blow. We have, indeed, seen the 
 tomb close, but it has closed only over mature years, over long protracted 
 public service, over the weakness of age, and over life itself only when the 
 ends of living had been fulfilled. These suns, as they rose slowly, and 
 steadily, amidst clouds and storms, in their ascendant, so they have not rushed 
 from their meridian, to sink suddenly in the west. Like the mildness, the 
 serenity, the continuing benignity of a summer s day, they have gone down 
 with slow descending, grateful, long lingering light ; and now that they are 
 beyond the visible margin of the world, good omens cheer us from " the 
 bright track of their fiery car !" 
 
 There were many points of similarity in the lives and fortunes of theso 
 great men. They belonged to the same profession, and had pursued its stu 
 dies and its practice, for unequal lengths of time indeed, but with diligence 
 and effect. Both were learned and able lawyers. They were natives arid 
 inhabitants, respectively, of those two of the colonies, which, at the revolution, 
 were the largest and most powerful, and which naturally had a lead in the 
 political affairs of the times. When the colonies became, in some degree, 
 united, by the assembling of a general congress, they were brought to act to 
 gether, in its deliberations, not indeed at the same time, but both at early 
 periods. Each had already manifested his attachment to the cause of tho 
 country, as well as his ability to maintain it, by printed addresses, public 
 speeches, extensive correspondence, and whatever other mode could be adopted, 
 for the purpose of exposing the encroachments of the British parliament anJ 
 animating the people to a manly resistance. Both were not only decided, but 
 early friends of Independence. While others yet doubted, they were resolved 
 where others hesitated, they pressed forward. They were both members oi 
 the committee for preparing the Declaration of Independence, and they con 
 stitutecl the sub-committee, appointed by the other members to make th$ 
 draught. They left their seats in congress, being called to other public em 
 ployments, at periods not remote from each other, although one of them re 
 turned to it, afterwards for a short time. Neither of them was of the assem 
 bly of great men which formed the present constitution, and neither was ai 
 any time member of congress under its provisions. Both have been public 
 ministers abroad, both vice-presidents, and both presidents. These coinciden 
 ces are now singularly crowned and completed. They have died, together 
 and they died on the anniversary of liberty. 
 
 When many of us were last in this place, fellow citizens, it was on the day 
 of that anniversary. We were met to enjoy the festivities belonging to the 
 occasion, and to manifest our grateful homage to our political fathers. 
 
76 
 
 We did not, we could not here, forget our venerable neighbor of 
 We knew that we were standing, at a time of high and palmy prosperity, where 
 he had stood, in the hours of utmost peril; that we saw nothing but liberty 
 and security, where he had met the frown of power ; that we were enjoying 
 everything, where he had hazarded everything ; and just and sincere plauditi 
 arose to his name, from the crowds which filled this area, and hung over thea 
 galleries. He whose grateful duty it was to speak to us, on that day, of th< 
 virtues of our fathers, had indeed admonished us that time and years wen 
 about to level his venerable frame with the dust. But he bade us hope, tha 
 " the sound of a nation s joy, rushing from our cities, ringing from our valleys 
 echoing from our hills, might yet break the silence of his aged ear; that th 
 rising blessings of grateful millions might yet visit, with glad light, his decay 
 ing vision." Alas ! that vision was then closing forever. Alas ! the silenc* 
 which was then settling on that aged ear, was an everlasting silence ! For lo 
 in the very moment of our festivities, his freed spirit ascended to God who 
 gave it! Human aid and human solace terminate at the grave; or we would 
 gladly have borne him upward, on a nation s outspread hands ; we would 
 have accompanied him, and with the blessings of millions and the prayers of 
 millions, commended him to the divine favor. 
 
 While still indulging our thoughts on the coincidence of the death of this 
 venerable man with the anniversary of independence, we learn that Jefferson, 
 too, has fallen ; and that these aged patriots, these illustrious fellow-laborers, 
 had left our world together. May not such events raise the suggestion that 
 they are not undesigned, and that Heaven does so order things, as sometimes 
 to attract strongly the attention, and excite the thoughts of men ? The occur 
 rence has added new interest to our anniversary, and will be remembered in 
 ill time to come. 
 
 The occasion, fellow-citizens, requires some account of the lives and servi 
 ces of JOHN ADAMS and THOMAS JEFFERSON. This duty must necessarily be 
 performed with great brevity, and in the discharge of it I shall be obliged to 
 confine myself, principally, to those parts of their history and character which 
 belonged to them as public men. 
 
 JOHN ADAMS was born at Quincy, then part of the ancient town of Brain - 
 tree, on the 19th of October, (Old Style) 1735. He was a descendant of 
 the Puritans, his ancestors having early emigrated from England, and settled 
 in Massachusetts. Discovering early a strong love of reading and of knowl 
 edge, together with marks of great strength and activity of mind, proper o^;: 
 was taken by his worthy father, to provide for his education. He pursued his 
 youthful studies in Braintree, under Mr. Marsh, a teacher whose fortune it was 
 that Josiah Quincy, Jr., as well as the subject of these remarks, should receive 
 from him his instruction in the rudiments of classical literature. Having been 
 admitted, in 1751, a member of Harvard College, Mr. ADAMS was graduated, 
 in course, 1755; and on the catalogue of that institution, his name, at the 
 time of his death, was second among the living Alumni, being preceded only 
 by that of the venerable Holyoke. With what degree of reputation he left 
 the University, is not now precisely known. We know only that he was dis 
 tinguished, in a class which numbered Locke and Hemen way among its mem 
 bers. Choosing the law for his profession, he commenced and prosecuted its 
 studies at Worcester, under the direction of Samuel Putnam, a gentleman whom 
 he has himself described as an acute man, an able and learned lawyer, and as 
 in large professional practice at that time. In 1758, he was admitted to the 
 bar, and commenced business in Braintree. He is understood to have made 
 
77 
 
 his first considerable effort, or to have attained his first signal success, at Ply 
 mouth, on one of those occasions which furnish the earliest opportunity for 
 distinction to many young men of the profession, a jury trial, and a criminal 
 cause. His business naturally grew with his reputation, and his residence in 
 the vicinity afforded the opportunity, as his growing eminence gave the power, 
 of entering on the larger field of practice which the capital presented. In 
 1766, he removed his residence to Boston, still continuing his attendance on 
 the neighboring circuits, and not unfrequently called to remote parts of the 
 Province. In 1770 his professional firmness was brought to a test of some 
 severity, on the application of the British officers and soldiers to undertake 
 their defence, on the trial of the indictments found against them on account 
 of the transactions of the memorable 5th of March. He seems to have 
 thought, on this occasion, that a man can no more abandon the proper duties 
 of his profession, than he can abandon other duties. The event proved, that 
 as he judged well for his own reputation, so he judged well, also, for the in 
 terest and permanent fame of his country. The result of that trial proved 
 that notwithstanding the high degree of excitement then existing, in conse 
 quence of the measures of the British government, a jury of Massachusetts 
 would not deprive the most reckless enemies, even the officers of that standing 
 army, quartered among them, which they so perfectly abhorred, of any part 
 of that protection which the law, in its mildest and most indulgent interpre 
 tation, afforded to persons accused of crimes. 
 
 Without pursuing MR. ADAM S professional course further, suffice it to say, 
 that on the first establishment of the judicial tribunals under the authority 
 of the State, in 1776, he received an offer of the high and responsible station 
 of Chief Justice of the Supreme Court. But he was destined for another 
 and a different career. From early life the bent of his mind was toward pol 
 itics; a propensity, which the state of the times, if it did not create, doubtless, 
 very much strengthened. Public subjects must have occupied the thoughts 
 and filled up the conversation in the circles in which he then moved ; and the 
 interesting questions, at that time just arising, could not but seize on a mind, 
 like his, ardent sanguine and patriotic. I he letter, fortunately preserved, 
 written by him at Worcester, so early as the 12th of October, 1755, is a proof 
 of very comprehensive views, and uncommon depth of reflection, in a young 
 man not yet quite twenty. In this letter he predicted the transfer of power, 
 and the establishment of a new seat of empire in America ; he predicted, 
 also, the increase of population in the colonies; and anticipated their naval 
 distinction, and foretold that all Europe, combined, could not subdue them. 
 All this is said, not on a public occasion, or for effect, but in the. style of sober 
 and friendly correspondence, as the result of his own thoughts. I some 
 times retire," said he, at the close of the letter, " and laying things together, 
 form some reflections pleasing to myself. The produce of one of these reve 
 ries you have read above. This prognostication, so early in his own life, so 
 early in the history of the country, of independence, of vast increase of num 
 bers, of naval force, of such augmented power as might defy all Europe, is 
 remarkable. It is more remarkable, that its author should live to see fulfilled 
 to the letter, what could have seemed to others, at the time, but the extrava 
 gance of youthful fancy. His earliest political feelings were thus strongly 
 American ; and from this ardent attachment to his native soil he never de 
 parted. 
 
 While still living at Quincy, and at the age of twenty-four, Mr. Adams 
 was present, in this town, on the argument before the Supreme Court, respect- 
 
78 
 
 ing Writs of Assistance, and heard the celebrated and patriotic speech of 
 JAMES OTIS. Unquestionably that was a masterly performance. No flighty 
 declamation about liberty, no superficial discussion of popular topics, it was 
 learned, penetrating, convincing, constitutional argument, expressed in a strain 
 of high and resolute patriotism. He grasped the question, then pending be 
 tween England and her Colonies, with the strength of a lion; and if he 
 sometimes sported, it was only because the lion himself is sometimes playful. 
 Its success appears to have been as great as its merits, and its impression was 
 widely felt. Mr. Adams himself seems never to have lost the feeling it pro 
 duced, and to have entertained constantly the fullest conviction of its import 
 ant effects. : I do say," he observes, "in the most solemn manner, that Mr. 
 Qtis s Oration against Writs of Assistance, breathed into this nation the breath 
 of life." 
 
 In 1765 Mr. Adams laid before the public, what I suppose to be his first 
 printed performance, except essays for the periodical press, a Dissertation oil 
 the Canon and Feudal Law. The object of this work was to show that our 
 New England ancestors, in consenting to exile themselves from their native 
 land, were actuated, mainly, by the desire of delivering themselves from the 
 power of the hierarchy, and from the monarchial and aristocratical political 
 systems of the other continent ; and to make this truth bear, with effect on 
 the politics of the times. Its tone is uncommonly bold and animated, for that 
 period. He calls on the people, not only to defend, but to study and under 
 stand their rights and privileges ; urges earnestly the necessity of diffusing 
 general knowledge, invokes the clergy and the bar, the colleges and acade 
 mies, and all others who have the ability and the means, to expose the insi 
 dious designs of arbitrary power, to resist its approaches, and to be persuaded 
 that there is a settled design on foot to enslave all America. " Be it remem 
 bered," says the author, " that liberty must, at all hazards, be supported. We 
 have a right to it derived from our Maker. But if we had not, our fathers 
 have earned it, and bought it for us, at the expense of their ease, their es 
 tate, their pleasure and their blood. And liberty cannot be preserved with 
 out a general knowledge among the people, who have a right, from the frame 
 of their nature, to knowledge, as their great Creator, who does nothing in 
 vain, has given them understandings, and a desire to know ; but besides this, 
 they have a right, an indisputable, unalienable, indefeasible right to that most 
 dreaded and envied kind of knowledge, I mean of the character and conduct 
 of their rulers. Rulers are no more than attorneys, agents, and trustees of 
 the people ; and if the cause, the interest and trust, is insidiously betrayed, or 
 wantonly trifled away, the people have a right to revoke the authority, that 
 they themselves have deputed, and to constitute other and better agents, at 
 torneys and trustees." 
 
 The citizens of this town conferred on Mr. Adams his first political dis 
 tinction, and clothed him with his first political trust, by electing him one of 
 their representatives, in 17 70. Before this time he had become extensively 
 known throughout the province, as well by the part he had acted in relation 
 to public affairs, as by the exercise of his professional ability. He was among 
 those who took the deepest interest in the controversy with England, and 
 whether in or out of the Legislature, his time and talents were alike devoted 
 to the cause. In the years 1773 and 1774 he was chosen a counsellor, by 
 the members of the General Court, but rejected by Governor Hutchinson, in 
 the former of those years, and by Governor Gage in the latter. 
 
 The time was now at hand, however, when the affairs of the colonies ur- 
 
79 
 
 gently demanded united councils. An open rupture with tlie parent State 
 appeared inevitable, and it was but the dictate of prudence, that those who 
 were united by a common interest and a common danger, should protect that 
 interest and guard against that danger, by united efforts. A general Con 
 gress of Delegates from all the colonies, having been proposed and agreed to, 
 the House of Representatives, on the 17th of June, 1774, elected JAMES 
 BOWDOIN, THOMAS GUSHING, SAMUEL ADAMS, JOHN ADAMS, and ROBERT 
 TREAT PAINE, delegates from Massachusetts. This appointment was made 
 at Salem, where the General Court had been convened by Governor Gage, in 
 the last hour of the existence of a House of Representatives under the pro 
 vincial Charter. While engaged in this important business, the governor 
 having been informed of what was passing, sent his secretary with a message 
 dissolving the General Court. The secretary finding the door locked, directed 
 the messenger to go in and inform the speaker that the secretary was at the 
 door with a message from the governor. The messenger returned, and in 
 formed the secretary that the orders of the House were that the doors should 
 be kept fast; whereupon the secretary soon after read a proclamation, dissol 
 ving the General Court upon the stairs. Thus terminated, forever, the actual 
 exercise of the political power of England in or over Massachusetts. The 
 four last named delegates accepted their appointments, and took their scats 
 in Congress, the first day of its meeting, September 5, 1774, in Phila 
 delphia. 
 
 The proceedings of the first Congress are well known, and have been uni 
 versally admired. It is in vain that we would look for superior proofs of 
 wisdom, talent, and patriotism. Lord Chatham said, that for himself, he 
 must declare, that he had studied and admired the free states of antiquity, 
 the master states of the world, but that for solidity of reasoning, force of 
 sagacity, and wisdom of conclusion, no body of men could stand in preference 
 to this Congress. It is hardly inferior praise to say, that no production of that 
 great man himself can be pronounced superior to several of the papers pub 
 lished as the proceedings of this most able, most firm, most patriotic assem 
 bly. There is, indeed, nothing superior to them in the range of political dis 
 quisition. They not only embrace, illustrate, and enforce everything which 
 political philosophy, the love of liberty, and the spirit of free inquiry had an 
 tecedently produced, but they add new and striking views of their own, and 
 apply the whole, with irresistible force, in support of the cause which had 
 drawn them together. 
 
 Mr. Adams was a constant attendant on the deliberations of this body, and 
 bore an active part in its important measures. He was of the committee to 
 state the rights of the colonies, and of that also which reported the address 
 to the king. 
 
 A it was in the continental Congress, fellow-citizens, that those whose 
 deaths have given rise to this occasion, were first brought together, and called 
 on to unite their industry and their ability, in the service of the country, let 
 us now turn to the other of these distinguished men, and take a brief notice 
 of his life, up to the period when he appeared within the walls of Congress. 
 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON, descended from ancestors who had been settled in 
 Virginia for some generations, was born near the spot on which he died, in 
 the county of Albermale, on the 2d of April, (Old Style,) 1743. His youth 
 ful studies were pursued in the neighborhood of his father s residence, until 
 he was removed to the college of William and Mary, the highest honors of 
 which, he in due time received. Having left the college with reputation, he 
 
80 
 
 applied himself to the study of law, under the tuition of George Wythe, one 
 of the highest judicial names of which that State can boast. At an early 
 age he was elected a member of the Legislature, in which he had no sooner 
 appeared than he distinguished himself, by knowledge capacity, and promp 
 titude. 
 
 Mr. Jefferson appears to have been imbued with an early love of letters 
 and science, and to have cherished a strong disposition to pursue these ob 
 jects. To the physical sciences, especially, and to ancient classic literature, he 
 is understood to have had a warm attachment, and never entirely to have lost 
 sight of them, in the midst of the busiest occupations. But the times were 
 times for action, rather than for contemplation. The country was to be de 
 fended, and to be saved before it could be enjoyed. Philosophic leisure and 
 literary pursuits, and even the objects of professional attention, were all nec 
 essarily postponed to the urgent calls of the public service. The exigency of 
 the country made the same demand on Mr. Jefferson that it made on others 
 who had the ability and the disposition to serve it ; and he obeyed the call ; 
 thinking and feeling, in this respect, with the great Roman orator ; Quis enim 
 est tarn cupidus in perspidenda cognoscendaque rerum natura, ut, si ei trac- 
 tanta contemplantique res cognitione dignissimas subito sit allatum pericu- 
 lum discrimenque patrioe, cui subvenire opitularique possit, non ilia omnia 
 relinquat atque abjiciat, etiam si dinumerare se Stellas, aut metira mundi 
 magnitudinem posse arbitretur ? 
 
 Entering, with all his heart, into the cause of liberty, his ability, patriotism, 
 and power with the pen, naturally drew upon him a large participation in the 
 most important concerns. Wherever he was, there was found a soul devoted 
 to the cause, power to defend and maintain it, and willingness to incur all its 
 hazards. In 1774 he published a Summary View of the Rights of British 
 America, a valuable production among those intended to show the dangers 
 which threatened the liberties of the country, and to encourage the people in 
 their defence. In June 1775 he was elected a member of the Continental 
 Congress, as successor to PEYTON RANDOLPH, who had retired on account of 
 ill health, and took his seat in that body on the 21st of the same month. 
 
 And now, fellow citizens, without pursuing the biography of these illustri 
 ous men further, for the present, let us turn our attention to the most promi 
 nent act of their lives, their participation in the DECLARATION OF IN 
 DEPENDENCE. 
 
 Preparatory to the introduction of that important measure, a committee, at 
 the head of which was Mr. Adams, had reported a resolution, which Con 
 gress adopted the 10th of May, recommending in substance, to all the colo- 
 nie- which had not already established governments suited to the exigencies 
 of their affairs, to adopt such government, as would, in the opinion of the 
 representatives of the people, best conduce to the happiness and safety of 
 their constituents in particular, and America in general. 
 
 This significant vote was soon followed by the direct proposition, which 
 RICHARD HENRY LEE had the honor to submit to Congress, by resolution, 
 on the 7th day of June. The published journal does not expressly state it, 
 but there is no doubt, I suppose, that this resolution was in the same words, 
 when originally submitted by Mr. Lee, as when finally passed. Having been 
 discussed, on Saturday the 8th, and Monday the 10th of June, this resolution 
 was on the last mentioned day postponed, for further consideration, to the first 
 day of July ; and, at the same time it was voted, that a committee be ap 
 pointed to prepare a DECLARATION, to the effect of the resolution. This com- 
 
81 
 
 mittee was elected by ballot, on the following day, and consisted of THOMAS 
 JEFFERSON, JOHN ADAMS, BENJAMIN FRANKLIN, ROGER SHERMAN, and RO 
 BERT R. LIVINGSTON. 
 
 It is usual, when committees are elected by ballot, that their names are 
 arranged, in order, according to the number of votes which each has received. 
 Mr. Jefferson, therefore, had received the highest, and Mr. Adams the next 
 highest number of votes. The difference is said to have been but of a single 
 vote Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Adams, standing thus at the head of the com 
 mittee, were requested, by the other members, to act as a sub-committee, to 
 Zare the draught ; and Mr. Jefferson drew up the paper. The original 
 ght, as brought by him from his study, and submitted to the other mem 
 bers of the committee, with interlineations in the hand-writing of Dr. Frank 
 lin, and others in that of Mr. Adams, was in Mr. Jefferson s possession at the 
 time of his death. The merit of this paper is Mr. Jefferson s. Some changes 
 were made in it, on the suggestion of other members of the committee, and 
 others by Congress while it was under discussion. But none of them altered 
 the tone, the frame, the arrangement, or the general character of the instru 
 ment. As a composition, the declaration is Mr. Jefferson s. It is the pro 
 duction of his mind, and the high honor of it belongs to him, clearly and 
 absolutely. 
 
 It has sometimes been said, as if it were a derogation from the merits of 
 this paper, that it contains nothing new ; that it only states grounds of pro 
 ceeding, and presses topics of argument, which had often been stated and pres 
 sed before. But it was not the object of the Declaration to produce any 
 thing new. It was not to invent reasons for independence, but to state those 
 which governed the Congress. For great and sufficient causes, it was pro 
 posed to declare independence ; and the proper business of the paper to be 
 drawn was to set forth those causes, and justify the authors of the measure, 
 in any event of fortune, to the country and to posterity. The cause of Ameri 
 can independence, moreover, was now to be presented to the world in such man 
 ner, if it might so be, as to engage its sympathy, to command its respect, to at 
 tract its admiration ; and in an assembly of most able and distinguished men, 
 THOMAS JEFFERSON had the high honor of being the selected advocate of 
 this cause. To say that he performed his great work well, would be doing 
 him injustice. To say that he did excellently well, admirably well, would be 
 inadequate and halting praise. Let us rather say, that he so discharged the 
 duty assigned him, that all Americans may well rejoice that the work of 
 drawing the title deed of their liberties devolved on his hands. 
 
 With all its merits, there are those who have thought that there was one 
 thing in the declaration to be regretted ; and that is, the asperity and appa 
 rent anger with which it speaks of the person of the king; the industrious 
 ability with which it accumulates and charges upon him, all the injuries which 
 the colonies had suffered from the mother country. Possibly some de^ee of 
 injustice, now or hereaftei, at home or abroad, may be done to the character 
 of Mr. Jefferson, if this part of the declaration be not placed in its proper 
 light. Anger or resentment, certainly, much less personal reproach and in 
 vective, could not properly find place, in a composition of such high dignity, 
 and of such lofty and permanent character. 
 
 A single reflection on the original ground of dispute between England and 
 the Colonies is sufficient to remove any unfavorable impression in this respect 
 
 The inhabitants of all the Colonies, while Colonies, admitted themselves 
 bound by their allegiance to the king ; but they disclaimed altogether the 
 
S2 
 
 authority of Parliament; holding themselves, in this respect, to resemble the 
 condition of Scotland and Ireland before the respective unions of those king 
 doms with England, when they acknowledged allegiance to the same king, but 
 had each its separate legislature. The tie, therefore, which our Revolution 
 was to to break did not subsist between us and the British Parliament, or be 
 tween us and the British Government in the aggregate, but directly between 
 us and the king himself. 
 
 The Colonies had never admitted themselves subject to Parliament. That 
 was precisely the point of the original controversy. They had uniformly de 
 nied that Parliament had authority to make laws for them. There was, 
 therefore, no subjection to Parliament to be thrown off. But allegiance to 
 the king did exist, and had been uniformly acknowledged; and down to 1775 
 the most solemn assurances had been given that it was not intended to break 
 that allegiance or throw it off. Therefore, as the direct object and only effect 
 of the Declaration, according to the principles on which the controversy had 
 been maintained on our part> were to sever the tie of allegiance which bound 
 us to the king, it was properly and necessarily founded on acts of the crown 
 itself, as its justifying causes. Parliament is not so much as mentitoned in the 
 whole instrument. When odious and oppressive acts are referred to, it is done 
 by charging the king with confederating w T ith others " in pretended acts of 
 legislation" ; the object being constantly to hold the king himself directly 
 responsible for those measures which were the grounds of separation. Even 
 the precedent of the English Revolution was not overlooked, and in this case, 
 as well as in that, occasion was found to say that the king had abdicated the 
 government. Consistency with the principles upon which resistance began, 
 and with all the previous state papers issued by Congress, required that the 
 Declaration should be bottomed on the misgovernment of the king; and 
 therefore it was properly framed with that aim and to that end. The king 
 was known, indeed, to have acted, as in other cases, by his ministers, and with 
 his Parliament; but as our ancestors had never admitted themselves subject 
 either to ministers or to Parliament, tiiere were no reasons to be given for now 
 refusing obedience to their authority. This clear and obvious necessity of 
 founding the Declaration on the misconduct of the king himself, gives to that 
 instrument its personal application, and its character of direct and pointed 
 accusation. 
 
 The Declaration having been reported to Congress by the committee, the 
 resolution itself was taken up and debated on the first day of July, and again 
 on the second, on which last day it was agreed to and adopted, in these 
 words : 
 
 "Resolved, That the United Colonies are, and of right ought to be, 
 free and independent States ; that they are absolved from all allegiance to the 
 British crown, and that all political connection between them and the state 
 of Great Britain is, and ought to be, totally dissolved." 
 
 Having thus passed the main resolution, Congress proceeded to consider the 
 reported draught of the Declaration. It was discusssed on the second, and 
 third, and FOURTH days of the month, in committee of the whole ; and on the 
 last of those days, being reported from that committee, it received the final 
 approbation and sanction of Congress. It was ordered, at the same time, that 
 copies be sent to the several States, and that it be proclaimed at the head of 
 the army. The Declaration thus published did not bear the names of the 
 members, for as yet it had not been signed by them. It was authenticated, 
 like other papers of the Congress, by the signatures of the President and Sec- 
 
83 
 
 retary. On tlie 19th of July, as appears by the secret journal, Congress 
 " Resolved, That the Declaration, passed on the fourth, be fairly engrossed on 
 parchment, with the title and style of- * THE UNANIMOUS DECLARATION OF 
 THE THIRTEEN UNITED STATES OF AMERICA ; and that the same, when en 
 grossed, be signed by every member of Congress." And on the SECOND DAY 
 OF AUGUST following, " the Declaration, being engrossed and compared at the 
 table, was signed by the members." So that it happens, fellow-citizens, that 
 we pay these honors to their memory on the anniversary of that day (2d of 
 August) on which these great men actually signed their names to the De 
 claration. The Declaration was thus made, that is, it passed, and was adopted 
 as an act of Congress, on the fourth of July ; it was then signed, and certified 
 by the President and Secretary, like other acts. The FOURTH OF JULY, 
 therefore, is the ANNIVERSARY OF THE DECLARATION. But the signatures 
 of the members present were made to it, being then engrossed on parchment, 
 on the second day of August. Absent members afterwards signed, as they 
 came in ; and indeed it bears the names of some who were not chosen mem 
 bers of Congress until after the fourth of July. The interest belonging to the 
 subject, will be sufficient, I hope, to justify these details. 
 
 The Congress of the Revolution, fellow-citizens,, sat with closed doors, and 
 no report of its debates was ever made. The discussion, therefore, which 
 accompanied this great measure, has never been preserved, except in memory 
 and by tradition. But it is, I believe, doing no injustice to others to say, that 
 the general opinion was, and uniformly has been, that in debate^ on the side 
 of independence, " JOHN ADAMS had no equal. The great author of the 
 Declaration himself has expressed that opinion uniformly and strongly. 
 " JOHN ADAMS," said he, in the hearing of him who has now the honor to 
 address you, " JOHN ADAMS was our colossus on the floor. JS T ot graceful, not 
 elegant, not always fluent, in his public addresses, he yet came out with a 
 power, both of thought and of expresssion, which moved us from our seats," 
 
 For the part which he was here to perform, Mr. Adams doubtless was emi 
 nently fitted. He possessed a bold spirit which disregarded danger, and a 
 * sanguine reliance on the goodness of the cause, and the virtues of the people, 
 which led him to overlook all obstacles. His character, too, had been formed 
 in troubled times. He had been rocked in the early storms of the controversy, 
 and had acquired a decision and a hardihood proportioned to the severity of 
 the discipline w r hich he had undergone. 
 
 He not only loved the American cause devoutly, but had studied and un 
 derstood it. It was all familiar to him. He had tried his powers on the 
 questions which it involved, often and in various ways ; and brought to their 
 consideration Avhatever of argument or illustration the history of his own 
 country, the history of England, or the stores of ancient or legal learning 
 could furnish. Every grievance enumerated in the long catalogue of the De 
 claration had been the subject of his discussion, and the object of his remon 
 strance and reprobation. From 1760, the Colonies, the rights of the Colonies, 
 the liberties of the Colonies, and the wrongs inflicted on the Colonies, had 
 engaged his attention ; and it has surprised those who have the opportunity 
 of witnessing it, with what full remembrance, and with what prompt recollec 
 tion he could refer, in his extreme old age to every act of Parliament affecting 
 tho Colonies, distinguishing and stating their respective titles, sections and 
 provisions; and to all the Colonial memorials, remonstrances, and petitions, 
 with whatever else belonged to the intimate and exact history of the times 
 from that year to 1775. It was, in his own judgment, between these years 
 
84 
 
 that the American people came to a full understanding and thorough knowl 
 edge of their rights, and a fixed resolution of maintaining them ; and bearing 
 himself an active part in all important transactions, the controversy with Eng 
 land being then in effect the business of his life, facts, dates, and particulars 
 made an impression which was never effaced. He was prepared, therefore, 
 by education and discipline, as well as by natural talent and natural tempera 
 ment, for the pail which he was now to act. 
 
 The eloquence of Mr. Adams resembled his general character, and formed, 
 indeed, a part of it. It was bold, manly, and energetic ; and such the crisis 
 required. When public bodies are to be addressed on momentous occasions, 
 when great interests are at stake, and strong passions excited, nothing is valu 
 able in speech farther than as it is connected with high intellectual and moral 
 endowments. Clearness, force, and earnestness are the qualities which pro 
 duce conviction.// True eloquence, does not consist in speech. It cannot be^ 
 brought from far. Lafeor and learning may toil for it> but they will toil in 
 vain. Words and phrases may be marshalled in every way, but they cannot 
 compass it. It must exist in the man, in the subject, and in the occasion. 
 Affected passion, intense expression, the pomp of declamation, all may aspire to 
 it ; they cannot reach it. It comes, if it come at all, like , the outbreaking of 
 a fountain from the earth, or the bursting forth of volcanic fires, with sponta 
 neous, original, native force. The graces taught in the schools, the costly 
 ornaments and studied contrivances of speech, shock and disgust men, when 
 their own livts, and the fate of their wives, their children, and their country, 
 hang on the decision of the hour. Then words have lost their power, rheto 
 ric is vain, and all elaborate oratory contemptible. Even genius itself then 
 feels rebuked and subdued, as in the presence of higher qualities. Then 
 patriotism is eloquent ; then self devotion is eloquent. The clear conception, 
 outrunning the deductions of logic, the high purpose, the firm resolve, the 
 dauntless spirit, speaking on the tongue, beaming from the eye, informing 
 every feature, and urging the whole man onward, right onward to his object 
 this, this is eloquence ; or rather it is something greater and higher than all 
 eloquence, it is action, noble, sublime, godlike action. f 
 
 In July, 1776, the controversy had passed the stage of argument. An ap 
 peal had been made to force, and opposing armies were in the field. Con 
 gress, then, was to decide whether the tie which had so long bound us to the 
 parent state was to be severed at once, and severed forever. All the Colo- 
 onies had signified their resolution to abide by this decision, and the people 
 looked for it with the most intense anxiety. And surely, fellow-citizens, never, 
 never were men called to a more important political deliberation. If we con 
 template it from the point where they then stood, no question could be more 
 full of interest; if we look at it now, and judge of its importance by its 
 effects, it appears of still greater magnitude. 
 
 Let us, then, bring before us the assembly, which was about to decide a 
 question thus big with the fate of empire. Let us open their doors and look 
 in upon their deliberations. Let us survey the anxious and care-worn coun 
 tenances, let us hear the firm-toned voices, of this band of patriots. 
 
 HANCOCK presides over the solemn sitting ; and one of those not yet pre 
 pared to pronounce for absolute independence is on the floor, and is urging his 
 reasons for dissenting from the declaration. 
 
 " Let us pause ! This step, once taken, can never be retraced. This reso 
 lution, once passed, will cut off all hope of a reconciliation. If success attend 
 the arms of England, we shall then be no longer colonies, with charters and 
 
85 
 
 privileges; these will all be forfeited by this act; and we shall be in the 
 condition of other conquered people, at the mere y of the conquerors. For 
 ourselves, we may be ready to run the hazard; but are we ready to carry the 
 country to that length? Is success -so puobable as to justify it? Where 
 is the military, where the naval power, by which we are to resist the 
 whole strength of the arm of England, for she will exert that strength to tho 
 utmost ? Can we rely on the constancy and perseverance of the people ? or 
 will they not act as the people of other countries have acted, and wearied with 
 a long war, submit, in the end, to a worse oppression ? While we stand on 
 our own ground, and insist on redress of grievances, we know we are right, and 
 are not answerable for consequences. Nothing, then, can be imputed to us. 
 But if we now change our object, carry our pretensions farther, and set up for 
 absolute independence, we shall lose the sympathy of mankind. We shall no 
 longer be defending what we possess, but struggling for something which we 
 never did possess, and which we have solemnly and uniformly disclaimed all 
 intention of pursuing, from the very outset of the troubles. Abandoning 
 thus our old ground, of resistance only to arbitrary acts of oppression, the 
 nations will believe the whole to have been mere pretence, and they will look 
 on us, not as injured, but as ambitious subjects. I shudder before this respon 
 sibility. It will be on us, if, relinquishing the ground on which we have stood 
 so safely, we now proclaim independence, and carry on the war for that objeet, 
 while these cities burn, these pleasant fields whiten and bleach with the bones 
 of their owners, and these streams run blood. It will be upon us, it will be 
 upon us, if, failing to maintain this unseasonable and ill-judged declaration, a 
 sterner despotism, maintained by military power, shall be established over our 
 posterity, when we ourselves, given up by an exhausted, a harrassed, a misled 
 people, shall have expiated our rashness and atoned for our presumption on 
 the scaffold." 
 
 It- was for Mr. Adams to reply to arguments like these. We know his 
 opinions, and we know his character. He would commence with his accus 
 tomed directness and earnestness. 
 
 " Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish, I give my hand and .my heart 
 to this vote. It is true, indeed that in the beginning that we aimed not at 
 independence. But there s a Divinity which shapes our ends. The injustice 
 of England, has driven us to arms; and, blinded to her own interest for our 
 good, she has obstinately persisted, till independence is now within our grasp. 
 We have but to reach forth to it, and it is ours. Why, then should we defer 
 the Declaration I Is any man so weak as now to hope for a reconciliation 
 with England, which shall leave either safety to the country and ite liberties, 
 or safety to his own life and honor ? Are not you, sir, who sit in that chair, 
 is not he, our venerable colleague near you, are you not both already the pro 
 scribed and predestined objects of punishment and vengeance ? Cut off from 
 all hope of royal clemency, what are you, what can you be, while the power 
 of England remains, but outlaws ? If we postpone independence, do we mean 
 to carry on, or give up, the war ? Do we mean to submit to the measures of 
 Parliament, Boston Port Bill and all ? Do we mean to submit, and consent 
 that we ourselves shall be ground to powder, and our country and its rights 
 trodden down in the dust ? I know we do not mean to submit. We never 
 shall submit. Do we intend to violate that most solemn obligation ever en 
 tered into by men, that plighting, before God, of our sacred honor to Wash 
 ington, when putting him forth to incur the dangers of War, as well as the 
 political hazards of the times, we promised to adhere to him, in every ex- 
 
86 
 
 tremity, with our fortunes and our lives ! I know there is not a man here, 
 who would not rather see a general conflagration sweep over the land, or an 
 earthquake sink it, than one jot or tittle of that plighted faith fall to the 
 ground. For myself, having, twelve months ago, in this place, moved you, 
 that George Washington be appointed commander of the forces raised, or to 
 be raised, for defence of American liberty, may my right hand forget her 
 cunning, and my tongue cleave to the roof of my mouth, if I hesitate or 
 waver in the support 1 give him. 
 
 " The war, then, must go on. We must fight it through. And if the 
 war must go on, why put off longer the Declaration of Independence ? That 
 measure will strengthen us. It will give us character abroad. The nations 
 will treat with us, which they can never do while we acknowledge ourselves 
 subjects, in arms against our sovereign. Nay, I maintain that England herself 
 will sooner treat for peace with us on the footing of independence, than consent, 
 by repealing her acts, to acknowledge that her whole conduct towards us has 
 been a course of injustice and oppression. Her pride will be less wounded 
 by submitting to that course of things which now predestinates our indepen 
 dence, than by yielding the points in controversy to her rebellious subjects. 
 The former she would regard as the result of fortune ; the latter she would 
 feel as her own deep disgrace. Why, then, why then, Sir, do we not as soon 
 as possible change this from a civil to a national war ? And since we must 
 fight it through, why not put ourselves in a state to enjoy all the benefits of 
 victory, if we gain the victory ? 
 
 " If we fail, it can be no worse for us. But we shall not fail. The cause 
 will raise up armies ; the cause will create navies. The people, the people, if 
 we are true to them, will carry us, and will carry themselves, gloriously through 
 this struggle. I care not how fickle other people have been found. I know 
 the people of these Colonies, and I know that resistance to British aggression 
 is deep and settled in their hearts and cannot be eradicated. Every Colony, 
 indeed, has expressed its willingness to follow, if we but take the lead. Sir, 
 the Declaration will inspire the people with increased courage. Instead of a 
 long and bloody war for the restoration of privileges, for redress of grievan 
 ces, for chartered immunities, held under a British king, set before them the 
 glorious object of entire independence, and it will breath into them anew the 
 breath of life. Read this Declaration at the head of the army ; every sword 
 will be drawn from its scabbard, and the solemn vow uttered, to maintain it, 
 or to perish on the bed of honor. Publish it from the pulpit ; religion will 
 approve it, and the love of religious liberty will cling round it, resolved to 
 stand with it or fall with it. Send it to the public halls ; proclaim it there ; 
 let them hear it who heard the first roar of the enemy s cannon; let them see- 
 it who saw their brothers and their sons fall on the field of Bunker Hill, and 
 in the street of Lexington and Concord, and the very walls will cry out in its 
 support. 
 
 " Sir, I know the uncertainty of human affairs, but I see, I see clearly, 
 through this day s business. You and I, indeed, may rue it. We may not 
 live to the time when this Declaration shall be made good. We may die ; die 
 colonists; die slaves; die, it may be, ignominiously and on the scaffold. Be 
 it so. Be it so. If it be the pleasure of Heaven that my country shall re 
 quire the poor offering of my life, the victim shall be ready, at the appointed 
 hour of sacrifice, come when that hour may. But while I do live, let me 
 have a country, or at least the hope of a country, and that a free country. 
 
 " But whatever may be our fate, be assured, be assured that this Declara- 
 
87 
 
 tion will stand. It may cost treasure, and it may cost blood; but it will stand, 
 and it will richly compensate for both. Through the thick gloom of the pres 
 ent, I see the brightness of the future, as the sun in heaven. We shall make 
 this a glorious, an immortal day. When we are in our graves, our children 
 will honor it. They will celebrate it with thanksgiving, with festivity, with 
 bonfires, and illuminations. On its annual return they will shed tears, copious, 
 gushing tears, not of subjection and slavery, not of agony and distress, but of 
 exultation, of gratitude, and of joy. Sir, before God, I believe the hour is . 
 come. My judgment approves this measure, and my whole heart is in it 
 All that I have, and all that I am, and all that I hope, in this life, I am now 
 ready here to stake upon it ; and I leave off as I begun, that live or die, sur 
 vive or perish, I am for the Declaration. It is my living sentiment, and by the 
 blessing of God it shall be my dying sentiment, Independence, now, and IN 
 DEPENDENCE FOR EVER." 
 
 And so that day shall be honored, illustrious prophet and patriot ! so that 
 day shall be honored, and as often as it returns, thy renown shall come along 
 with it, and the glory of thy life, like the day of thy death, shall not fail from 
 the remembrance of men. 
 
 It would be unjust, fellow-citizens, on this occasion, while we express our 
 veneration for him who is the immediate subject of these remarks, were we 
 to omit a most respectful, affectionate, and grateful mention of those other 
 great men, his colleagues, who stood with him, and with the same spirit, the 
 same devotion, took part in the interesting transaction. HANCOCK, the pro 
 scribed HANCOCK, exiled from his home by a military governor, cut off by 
 proclamation from the mercy of the crown, Heaven reserved for him the 
 honor of putting this great question to the vote, and of writing his own name 
 first, and most conspicuously, on that parchment which spoke defiance to the 
 power of the crown of England. There, too, is the name of that other pro 
 scribed patriot, SAMUEL ADAMS, a man who hungered and thirsted, for the 
 independence of his country ; who thought the Declaration halted and lin^ 
 gered, being himself not only ready, but eager for it, long before it was pro 
 posed ; a man of the deepest sagacity, the clearest foresight, and the profound- 
 est judgment in men. And there is GERRY, himself among the earliest and 
 the foremost of the patriots, found when the battle of Lexington summoned 
 them to common counsels, by the side of WARREN 5 a man who lived to serve 
 his country at home and abroad, and to die in the second place in the govern 
 ment. There, too, is the inflexible, the upright, the Spartan character, ROBERT 
 TREAT PAINE. He also lived to serve his country through the struggle, and 
 then withdrew from her councils, only that he might give his labors and his life 
 to his native State, in another relation. These names, fellow-citizens, are the 
 treasures of the Commonwealth , and they are treasures which grow brighter 
 by time. 
 
 It is now necessary to resume the narrative, and to finish with great brevity 
 the notice of the lives of those whose virtues and services we have met to 
 commemorate. 
 
 Mr. Adams remained in Congress from its first meeting till November, 1777, < 
 when he was appointed Minister to France. He proceeded on that service in 
 the February following, embarking in the frigate Boston, from the shore of 
 his native town, at the foot of Mount Wollaston. The year following, he was 
 appointed commissioner to treat of peace with England. Returning to the 
 United States, he was a delegate from Braintree in the Convention for fra 
 ming tbe Constitution of this Commonwealth, in 1780. At the latter end 
 
88 
 
 of the same year, he again went abroad in the diplomatic service of the coun 
 try, and was employed at various courts, and occupied with various negocia- 
 tions, until 1788. The particulars of these interesting and important services 
 this occasion does not allow time to relate. In 1782 he concluded our first 
 treaty with Holland. His negociations with that republic, his efforts to per 
 suade the States- General to recognize our independence, his incessant and in 
 defatigable exertions to represent the American cause favorably on the Conti 
 nent, and to counteract the designs of its enemies, open and secret, and his 
 successful undertaking to obtain loans, on the credit of a nation yet new and 
 unknown, are among his most arduous, most useful, most honorable services. 
 It was his fortune to bear a part in the negotiation for peace with England, 
 and in something more than six years from the Declaration which he had so 
 strenuously supported, he had the satisfaction of seeing the minister plenipo 
 tentiary of the crown subscribe his name to the instrument which declared 
 that his "Britannic Majesty acknowledged the United States to be free, sover 
 eign, and independent." In these important transactions, Mr. Adams con 
 duct received the marked approbation of Congress and of the country. 
 
 While abroad, in 1787, he published his Defence of the American Con 
 stitutions ; a work of merit and ability, though composed with haste, on the 
 spur of a particular occasion, in the midst of other occupations, and under cir 
 cumstances not admitting of careful revision. The immediate object of the 
 work was to counteract the weight of opinions advanced by several popular 
 European writers of that day, M. Turgot, the Abbe de Mably, and Dr. Price, 
 at a time when the people of the United States were employed in forming and 
 revising their systems of government. 
 
 Returning to the United States in 1788, he found the new government 
 about going into operation, and was himself elected the first Vice President, a 
 situation which he filled with reputation for eight years, at the expiration ot 
 which he was raised to the Presidential chair, as immediate successor to the 
 immortal Washington. In this high station he was succeeded by Mr. Jeffer 
 son, after a memorable controversy between their respective friends, in 1801 ; 
 and from that period his manner of life has been known to all who hear me. 
 He has lived for five-and-twenty years, with every enjoyment that could ren 
 der old age happy. Not inattentive to the occurrences of the times, political 
 cares have yet not materially, or for any long time, disturbed his repose. In 
 18*20 he acted as elector of President and Vice President, and in the same 
 year we saw him, then at the age of eighty-five, a member of the Convention 
 of this Commonwealth" called to revise the Constitution. Forty years before, 
 he had been one of those who formed that Constitution ; and he had now the 
 pleasure of witnessing that there was little which the people desired to change. 
 Possessing all his faculties to the end of his long life, with an unabated love 
 of reading and contemplation, in the centre of interesting circles of friendship 
 and affection, he was blessed in his retirement with whatever of repose and 
 felicity the condition of man allows. He had, also, other enjoyments. He 
 saw around him that prosperity and general happiness which had been the 
 object of his public cares and labors. No man ever beheld more clearly, 
 and for a longer time, the great and beneficial effects of the services rendered 
 by himself to his country. That liberty which he so early defended, that in 
 dependence of which he was so able an advocate and supporter, he saw, we 
 trust, firmly and securely established. The population of the country thick 
 ened around him faster, and extended wider, than his own sanguine predic 
 tions had anticipated ; and the wealth, respectability, and power of the nation 
 
89 
 
 sprang up to a magnitude which it is quite impossible he could have expected 
 to witness in his day. He lived also to behold those principles of civil free 
 dom which had been developed, established, and practically applied in Amer 
 ica, attract attention, command respect, and awaken imitation, in other regions 
 of the globe ; and well might, and well did he exclaim, " Where will the con 
 sequences of the American Revolution end ? " 
 
 If any thing yet remains to fill this cup of happiness, let it be added, that 
 he lived to see a great and intelligent people bestow the highest honor in their 
 gift where he had bestowed his own kindest parental affections and lodged his 
 fondest hopes. Thus honored in life, thus happy at death, he saw the JUBILEE, 
 and he died ; and with the last prayers which trembled on his lips was the 
 fervent supplication for his country, " Independence for ever ! " 
 
 Mr. Jefferson, having been occupied in the years 1778 and 1779 in the im 
 portant service of revising the laws of Virginia, was elected Governor of that 
 State, as successor to Patrick Henry, and held the situation when the State 
 was invaded by the British arms. In 1781 he published his Notes on Vir 
 ginia, a work which attracted attention in Europe as well as America, dispelled 
 many misconceptions respecting this continent, and gave its author a place 
 among men distinguished for science. In November, 1783, he again took 
 his seat in the Continental Congress, but in May following was appointed 
 Minister Plenipotentiary, to act abroad, in the negociation of commercial trea 
 ties, with Dr. Franklin and Mr. Adams. He proceeded to France in execution 
 of this mission, embarking at Boston ; and that was ^he only occasion on which 
 he^ever visited this place. In 1785 he was appointed Minister to France, the 
 duties of which situation he continued to perform until October, 1789, when 
 he obtained leave to retire, just on the eve of that tremendous revolution which 
 has so much agitated the world in our times. Mr. Jefferson s discharge of his 
 diplomatic duties was marked by great ability, diligence, and patriotism ; and 
 while he resided at Paris, in one of the most interesting periods, his charac 
 ter for intelligence, his love of knowledge, and of the society of learned men, 
 distinguished him in the highest circles of the French capital. No court in 
 Europe had at that time in Paris a representative commanding or enjoying 
 higher regard, for political knowledge or for general attainments, than the 
 minister of this then infant republic. Immediately on his return to his native 
 country, at the organization of the government under the present Constitution, 
 his talents and experience recommended him to President Washington for the 
 first office in his gift. He was placed at the head of the Department of State. 
 In this situation, also, he manifested conspicuous ability. His correspondence 
 with the ministers of other powers residing here, and his instructions to our 
 own diplomatic agents abroad, are among our ablest state papers. A thorough 
 knowledge of the laws and usages of nations, perfect acquaintance with the 
 immediate subject before him, great felicity, and still greater facility, in wri 
 ting, show themselves in whatever his official situation called on him to make. 
 It is believed by competent judges, that the diplomatic intercourse of the gov 
 ernment of the United States, from the first meeting of the Continental Con 
 gress in 1774 to the present time, taken together, would not suffer in respect 
 to the talent with which it has been conducted, by comparison with any thing 
 which other and older governments can produce; and to the attainment 
 of this respectability and distinction Mr. Jefferson has contributed his full 
 part. 
 
 On the retirement of General Washington from the presidency, and the 
 election of Mr. Adams to that office, in 1797, he was chosen Vice-Presideni. 
 
90 
 
 While presiding, in this capacity, over the deliberations of the senate, he com 
 piled and published a Manual of Parliamentary Practice, a work of moi-o 
 labor and more merit, than is indicated by its size. It is now received, as tiie 
 general standard, by which proceedings are regulated, not only in both Houses 
 of Congress, but in most of the other legislative bodies in the country. In 
 1801, he was elected President, in opposition to Mr. Adams, and re-elected in 
 1805, by a vote approaching towards unanimity. 
 
 From the time of his final retirement from public life, in 1808, Mr. Jeffer 
 son lived as became a wise man. Surrounded by affectionate friends, his 
 ardor in the pursuit of knowledge undiminished, with uncommon health, and 
 unbroken spirits, he was able to enjoy largely the rational pleasures of life, 
 and to partake in that public prosperity, which he had so much contributed to 
 produce. His kindness and hospitality, the charm of his conversation, the 
 ease of his manners, the extent of his acquirements, and especially the full 
 store of revolutionary incidents, which he possessed, and which he knew when 
 and how to dispense, rendered his abode in a high degree attractive to his ad 
 miring countrymen, while his high public and scientific character drew to 
 wards him every intelligent and educated traveller from abroad. Both Mr. 
 Adams and Mr. Jefferson had the pleasure of knowing that the respect, which 
 they so largely received, was not paid to their official stations. They were not 
 men made great by office; but great men, on whom the country for its own 
 benefit had conferred office. There was that in them, which office did not 
 give, and which the relinquishment of office, did not, and could not take 
 away. In their retirement, in the midst of their fellow citizens, themselves 
 private citizens, they enjoyed as high regard and esteem, as when filling the 
 most important places of public trust. 
 
 There remained to Mr. Jefferson yet one other work of patriotism and ben 
 eficence, the establishment of a University in his native state. To this object 
 he devoted years of incessant and anxious attention, and by the enlightened 
 liberality of the legislature of Virginia, and the co-operation of other able 
 and zealous friends, he lived to see it accomplished. May all success attend 
 this infant seminary ; and may those who enjoy its advantages, as often as 
 their eyes shall rest on the neighboring height, recollect what they owe to their 
 disinterested and indefatigable benefactor ; and may letters honor him who 
 thus labored in the cause of letters. 
 
 Thus useful, and thus respected, passed the old age of Thomas Jefferson. 
 But time was on its ever ceaseless wing, and was now bringing the last hour 
 of this illustrious man. He saw its approach, with undisturbed serenity. He 
 counted the moments, as they passed, and beheld that his last sands were fal 
 ling. That day, too, was at hand, which he had helped to make immortal. 
 One wish, one hope if it were not presumptuous beat in his fainting breast. 
 Could it be so might it please God he would desire once more to see 
 the sun once more to look abroad on the scene around him, on the great day 
 of liberty. Heaven, in its mercy, fulfilled that prayer. He saw that sun 
 he enjoyed its sacred light he thanked God, for this mercy, and bowed his 
 aged head to the grave. " Felix non vita tantum claritate, sed etiam op- 
 portunitate mortis" 
 
 The last public labor of Mr. Jefferson naturally suggests the expression of 
 the high praise which is due, both to him and to Mr. Adams, for their uni 
 form and zealous attachment to learning, and to the cause of general knowl 
 edge. Of the advantages of learning, indeed, and of literary accomplish 
 ments, their own characters were striking recommendations, and illustrations. 
 
91 
 
 They were scholars, ripe and good scholars; widely acquainted with ancient, 
 as well as modern literature, and not altogether uninstructed in the deeper 
 sciences. Their acquirements, doubtless, were different, and so were the parti 
 cular objects of their literary pursuits; as- their tastes and characters, in these 
 respects, differed like those of other men. Being, also, men of busy lives, with 
 great objects, requiring action, constantly before them, their attainments in 
 letters did not become showy, or obtrusive. Yet, I would hazard the opinion, 
 that if we could now ascertain all the causes which gave them eminence and 
 distinction, in the midst of the great men with whom they acted, we should 
 find, not among the least, then- early acquisition in literature, the resources 
 which it furnished, the promptitude and facility which it communicated, arid 
 the wide field it opened, for analogy and illustration ; giving them, thus, on 
 every subject, a larger view, and a broader range, as well for discussion, as for 
 the government of their own conduct. 
 
 Literature sometimes, and pretensions to it much oftener, disgusts, by ap 
 pearing to hang loosely on the character, like something foreign or extraneous, 
 not a part, but an ill-adjusted appendage ; or by seeming to overload and 
 weigh it down, by its unsightly bulk, like the productions of bad taste in ar 
 chitecture, where there is massy and cumbrous ornament, without strength or 
 solidity of column. This has exposed learning, and especially classical learn 
 ing, to reproach. Men have seen that it might exist, without mental superior 
 ity, without vigor, without good taste, and without utility. But in such cases 
 classical learning has only not inspired natural talent ; or, at most, it has but 
 made original feebleness of intellect, and natural bluntness of perception, 
 something more conspicuous. The question, after all, if it be a question, is 
 whether literature, ancient as well as modern, does not assist a good under 
 standing, improve natural good taste, add polished armor to native strength 
 and render its possessor, not only more capable of deriving private happiness 
 from contemplation and reflection, but more accomplished, also, for action in 
 the affairs of life, and especially for public action. Those whose memories we 
 now honor, were learned men ; but their learning was kept in its proper place, 
 and made subservient to the uses and objects of life. They were scholars not 
 common, nor superficial ; but their scholarship was so in keeping with their 
 character, so blended and inwrought, that careless observers, or bad judges, 
 not seeing an ostentatious display of it, might infer that it did not exist; for 
 getting, or not knowing, that classical learning, in men who act in conspicu 
 ous public stations, perform duties which exercise the faculty of writing, or 
 address popular, deliberative, or judicial bodies, is often felt, where it is little 
 seen, and sometimes felt more effectually, because it is not seen at all. 
 
 But the cause of knowledge, in a more enlarged sense, the cause of general 
 knowledge and of popular education, had no warmer friends, nor more pow 
 erful advocates, than Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson. On this foundation, they 
 knew the whole republican system rested ; and this great and all-important 
 truth they strove to impress, by all the means in their power. In the early 
 publication already referred to, Mr. Adams expresses the strong and just senti 
 ment, that the education of the poor is more important, even to the rich them 
 selves, than all their own riches. On this great truth, indeed, is founded that 
 unrivalled, that invaluable political and moral institution, our own blessing and 
 the glory of our fathers, the New England system of free schools. 
 
 As the promotion of knowledge had been the object of their regard through 
 life, so these great men made it the subject of their testamentary bounty. 
 Mr. Jefferson is understood to have bequeathed his library to tho University 
 
92 
 
 of Virginia, and that of Mr. Adams is bestowed on the inhabitants of 
 Quincy. 
 
 Mr. Adams and Mr. Jefferson, fellow-citizens, were successively Presidents 
 of the United States. The comparative merits of their respective adminis 
 trations for a long time agitated and divided public opinion. They were ri 
 vals, each supported by numerous and powerful portions of the people, for the 
 highest office. This contest, partly the cause and partly the consequence of 
 the long existence of two great political parties in the country, is now part of 
 the history of our government. We may naturally regret that any thing 
 should have occurred to create difference and discord between those who had 
 acted harmoniously and efficiently in the great concerns of the Revolution. 
 But this is not the time, nor this the occasion, for entering into the grounds of 
 that difference, or for attempting to discuss the merits of the question which it 
 involves. As practical questions, they were canvassed when the measures 
 which they regarded were acted on and adopted ; and as belonging to history, 
 the time had not come for their consideration. 
 
 It is, perhaps, not wonderful, that, when the Constitution of the United 
 States first went into operation, different opinions should be entertained as to 
 the extent of the powers conferred by it. Here was a natural source of diver 
 sity of sentiment. It is still less wonderful, that that event, nearly contempo 
 rary with our government under the present Constitution, which so entirely 
 shocked all Europe, and disturbed our relations with her leading powers, should 
 be thought, by different men, to have different bearings on our own prosperi 
 ty ; and that the early measures adopted by the government of the United 
 States, in consequence of this new state of things, should be seen in opposite 
 lights. It is for the future historian, when what now remains of prejudice 
 and misconception shall have passed away, to state these different opinions, 
 and pronounce impartial judgment. In the mean time, all good men rejoice, 
 and well may rejoice, that the sharpest differences sprung out of measures 
 which, whether right or wrong, have ceased with the exigencies that gave 
 them birth, and have left no permanent effect, either on the Constitution 01 
 on the general prosperity of the country. This remark, I am aware, may be 
 supposed to have its exception in one measure, the alteration of the Constitu 
 tion as to the mode of choosing President; but it is true in its general appli 
 cation. Thus the course of policy pursued towards France in 1798, on the 
 one hand, and the measures of commercial restriction commenced in 1807, on 
 the other, both subjects of warm and severe opposition, have passed away and 
 left nothing behind them. They were temporary, and whether wise or un 
 wise, their consequences were limited to their respective occasions. It is equal 
 ly clear, at the same time, and it is equally gratifying, that those measures of 
 both administrations which were of durable importance, and which drew after 
 them momentous and long remaining consequences, have received general ap 
 probation. Such was the organization, or rather the creation, of the navy, in 
 the administration of Mr. Adams; such the acquisition of Louisiana in that 
 >f Mr. Jefferson. The country, it may safely be added, is not likely to be 
 willing either to approve, or to rebrobate, indiscriminately, and in the aggre 
 gate, all the measures of either or of any, administration. The dictate of rea 
 son and of justice is, that, holding each one his own sentiments on the points 
 of difference, we imitate the great men themselves in the forbearance and 
 moderation which they have cherished, and in the mutual respect and kind 
 ness which they have been so much inclined to feel and to reciprocate. 
 
 No men, fellow-citizens, ever served their country with more entire exemp- 
 
don from every imputation of selfish and mercenary motives, than those to 
 whose memory we are paying these proofs of respect. _ A suspicion of any 
 disposition to enrich themselves, or to profit .by their public employments, never 
 rested on either. No sordid motive approached them. The inheritance which 
 they have left to their children is of their character and their fame. 
 
 Fellow-citizens, I will detain you no longer by this faint and feeble tribute 
 to the memory of the illustrious dead. Even in other hands, adequate justice 
 could not be done to them, within the limits of this occasion. Their highest, 
 their best praise, is your deep conviction of their merits, your affectionate gra 
 titude for their labors and their services. It is not my voice, it is this cessation 
 of ordinary pursuits, this arresting of all attention, these solemn ceremonies, 
 and this crowded house, which speak their eulogy. Their fame, indeed, is 
 safe. That is now treasured up beyond the reach of accident. Although no 
 sculptured marble should rise to their memory, nor engraved stone bear record 
 of their deeds, "yet will their remembrance be as lasting as the land they hon 
 ored. Marble columns may, indeed, moulder into dust, time may erase all 
 impress from the crumbling stone, but then- fame remains ; for with AMERICAN 
 LIBERTY it rose, and with AMERICAN LIBERTY ONLY can it perish. It was 
 the last swelling peal of yonder choir, " THEIR BODIES ARE BURIED IN PEACE, 
 BUT THEIR NAME LiVETH EVERMORE." I catch that solemn song, I echo that 
 lofty strain of funeral triumph, " THEIR NAME LIVETH EVERMORE." 
 
 Of the illustrious signers of the Declaration of Independence there now re 
 mains only CHARLES CARROLL. He seems an aged oak, standing alone on 
 the plain, which time has spared a little longer after all its contemporaries have 
 been levelled with the dust. Venerable object ! we delight to gather round 
 its trunk, while yet it stands, and to dwell beneath its shadow. Sole survivor 
 of an assembly of as great men as the world has witnessed, in a transaction 
 one of the most important that history records, what thoughts, what interest 
 ing reflections, must fill his elevated and devout soul ! If he dwell on the 
 past, how touching its recollections ; if he survey the present, how happy, how 
 joyous, how full of the fruition of that hope, which his ardent patriotism in 
 dulged ; if he glance at the future, how does the prospect of his country s ad 
 vancement almost bewilder his weakened conception ! Fortunate, distinguished 
 patriot! Interesting relic of the past! Let him know that, while we honor 
 the dead, we do not forget the living ; and that there is not a heart here which 
 does not fervently pray, that Heaven may keep him yet back from the society 
 of his companions. 
 
 And now, fellow-citizens, let us not retire from this occasion without a deep 
 and solemn conviction of the duties which have devolved upon us. This lovely 
 land, this glorious liberty, these benign institutions, the dear purchase of our 
 fathers, are ours ; ours to enjoy, ours to preserve, ours to transmit. Genera 
 tions past and generations to come hold us responsible for this sacred trust. 
 Our fathers, from behind, admonish us, with their anxious paternal voices; 
 posterity calls out to us, from the bosom of the future ; the world turns hither 
 its solicitous eyes ; all, all conjure us to act wisely, and faithfully, in the rela 
 tion which we sustain. We can never, indeed, pay the debt which is upon 
 us ; but by virtue, by morality, by religion, by the cultivation of every good 
 principle and every good habit, we may hope to enjoy the blessing, through our 
 day. and to leave it unimpaired to our children. Let us feel deeply how 
 much of what we are and of what we possess we owe to this liberty, and to 
 these institutions of government. Nature has, indeed, given us a soil which 
 yields bounteously to the hand of industry, the mighty and fruitful ocean is 
 
94 
 
 before us, and the skies over our Leads shed health and vigor. But what 
 are lands, and seas, and skies, to civilized man without society, without knowl 
 edge, without morals, religious culture ; and how can these be enjoyed, in all 
 their extent and all their excellence, but under the protection of wise institu 
 tions and a free government ? Fellow-citizens, there is not one of us, there is 
 not one of us here present, who does not, at this moment, and at every mo 
 ment, experience, in his own condition, and in the condition of those most 
 near and dear to him, the influence and the benefits of this liberty and these 
 institutions. Let us then acknowledge the blessing, let us feel it deeply and 
 powerfully, let us cherish a strong affection for it, and resolve to maintain and 
 perpetuate it. The blood of our fathers, let it not have been shed in vain ; 
 the great hope of posterity, let it not be blasted. 
 
 The striking attitude, too, in which we stand to the world around us, a to 
 pic to which, I fear, I advert too often, and dwell on too long, cannot be alto 
 gether omitted here. Keither individuals nor nations can perform their part 
 well, until they understand and feel its importance, and comprehend and justly 
 appreciate all the duties belonging to it. It is not to inflate national vanity, 
 nor to swell a light and empty feeling of self-importance, but it is that we may 
 judge justly of our situation, and of our own duties, that I earnestly uige 
 upon you this consideration of our position and our character among the na 
 tions of the earth. It cannot be denied, but by those w r ho would dispute 
 against the sun, that with America, and in America, a new era commences in 
 liuman affairs. This era is distinguished by free representative governments, 
 by entire religious liberty, by improved systems of national intercourse, by a 
 newly awakened and an unconquerable spirit of free inquiry, and by a diffusion 
 of knowledge through the community, such as has been before altogether un 
 known and unheard of. America, America, our country, fellow-citizens, our 
 own dear and native land, is inseparably connected, fast bound up, in fortune 
 and by fate, with these great interests. If they fall, we fall with them ; if 
 they stand, it will be because we have maintained them. Let us contemplate, 
 then, this connection, which binds the prosperity of others to our own ; and 
 let us manfully discharge all the duties which it imposes. If we cherish the 
 virtues and the principles of our fathers, Heaven will assist us to carry on the 
 work of human liberty and human happiness. Auspicious omens cheer us. 
 Great examples are before us. Our own firmament now shines brightly upon 
 our path. WASHINGTON is in the clear, upper sky. These other stars have 
 now joined the American constellation ; they circle round their centre, and the 
 heavens beam with new light. Beneath this illumination let us walk the course 
 of life, and at its close devoutly commend our beloved country, the common 
 parent of us all, to the Divine Benignity. 
 
FIRST SETTLEMENT OF NEW ENGLAND. 
 
 DELIVERED AT PLYMOUTH, DEC, 2 2 D , 1820. 
 
 LET us rejoice that we behold this day. Let us be thankful that we have 
 lived to see the bright and happy breaking of the auspicious morn, which 
 commences the third century of the history of New England. Auspicious, 
 indeed bringing a happiness beyond the common allotment of Providence 
 to men full of present joy, and gilding with bright* beams the prospect of 
 futurity, is the dawn that awakens us to the commemoration of the landing 
 of the Pilgrims. 
 
 Living at an epoch which naturally marks the progress of the history of 
 our native land, we have come hither to celebrate the great event with which 
 that history commenced. For ever honored be this, the place of our fathers 
 refuge ! For ever remembered the day which saw them, weary and distress 
 ed, broken in every thing but spirit, poor in all but faith and courage, at last 
 secure from the dangers of wintry seas, and impressing this shore with the 
 first footsteps of civilized man ! 
 
 It is a noble faculty of our nature which enables us to connect our thoughts 
 our sympathies, and our happiness with what is distant in place or time ; and 
 looking before and after, to hold communion at once with our ancestors and 
 our posterity. Human and mortal although we are, we are nevertheless not 
 mere insulated beings, without relation to the past or the future. Neither 
 the point of time, nor the spot of earth, in which we physically live, bounds 
 our rational and intellectual enjoyments. We live in the past by a knowl 
 edge of its history ; and in the future by hope and anticipation. By ascend 
 ing to an association with our ancestors ; by contemplating their example and 
 studying their character ; by partaking their sentiments, and imbibing their 
 spirit; by accompanying them in their toils, by sympathizing in their suffer 
 ings, and rejoicing in their successes and their triumphs ; we seem to belong 
 to their age, and to mingle our existence with theirs. We become their con 
 temporaries, live the lives which they lived, endure what they endured, and 
 partake in the rewards which they enjoyed. And in like manner, by run 
 ning along the line of future time, by contemplating the probable fortunes of 
 those who are coming after us, by attempting something which may promote 
 their happiness, and leave some not dishonorable memorial of ourselves for 
 their regard, when we shall sleep with the fathers, we protract our own earth 
 ly being, and seem to crowd whatever is future, as well as all that is past, in 
 to the narrow compass of our earthly existence. As it is not a vain and 
 false, but an exhalted and religious imagination, which leads us to raise our 
 thoughts from the orb, which, amidst this universe of worlds, the Creator has 
 given us to inhabit, and to send them with something of the feeling which 
 nature prompts, and teaches to be proper among children of the same Eternal 
 Parent, to the contemplation of the myriads of fellow-beings, with which his 
 goodness has peopled the infinite of space; so neither is it false or vain to con 
 sider ourselves as interested and connected with our whole race, through all 
 
time ; allied to our ancestors ; allied to our posterity ; closely compacted on 
 all sides with others ; ourselves being but links in the great chain of being, 
 which begins with the origin of our race, runs onward through its successive 
 generations, binding together the past, the present, and the future, and ter 
 minating at last, with the consummation of all things earthly, at the throne 
 of God. 
 
 /There may be, and there often is, indeed, a regard for ancestry, which 
 nourishes only a weak pride ; as there is also a care for posterity, which only 
 disguises an habitual avarice, or hides the workings of alow and grovelling 
 vanity. But there is also a moral and philosophical respect for our ancestors, 
 which elevates the character and improves the heart Next to the sense of 
 religious duty and moral feeling, I hardly know what should bear with strong 
 er obligation on a liberal and enlightened mind, than a consciousness of alli 
 ance with excellence which is departed ; and a consciousness, too, that in its 
 acts and conduct, and even in its sentiments and thoughts, it may be actively 1 
 operating on the happiness of those who come after it. Poetry is found to 
 have few stronger conceptions by which it would affect or overwhelm the 
 mind, than those in which it presents the moving and speaking image of the 
 departed dead to the senses of the living. This belongs to poetry, only be 
 cause it is congenial to our nature. Poetry, is, in this respect, but the hand 
 maid of true philosophy and morality ; it deals with us as human beings, 
 naturally reverencing those whose visible connection with this state of exist 
 ence is severed, and who may yet exercise we know not what sympathy with 
 ourselves; and when it carries us forward, also, and shows us the long- 
 continued result of all the good we do, in the prosperity of those who follow 
 us, till it bears us from ourselves, and absorbs us in an intense interest for 
 what shall happen to the generations after us, it speaks only in the language 
 \ of our nature, and affects us with sentiments which belong to us as human 
 beings. 
 
 Standing in this relation to our ancestors and our posterity, we are assem 
 bled on this memorable spot, to perform the duties which that relation and 
 the present occasion impose upon us. We have come to this Rock, to record 
 here our homage for our Pilgrim Fathers; our sympathy in their sufferings; 
 our gratitude for their labors ; our admiration of their virtues ; our veneration 
 for their piety; and our attachment to those principles of civil and religious 
 liberty, which they encountered the dangers of the ocean, the storms of 
 heaven, the violence of savages, disease, exile and famine, to enjoy and to es 
 tablish. And we would leave here, also, for the generations which are rising 
 up rapidly to fill our places, some proof that we have endeavored to transmi t 
 the great inheritance unimpaired ; that in our estimate of public principles 
 and private virtue, in our veneration of religion and piety, in our devotion to 
 civil and religious liberty, in our regard for whatever advances human knowl 
 edge or improves human happiness, we are not altogether unworthy of our 
 origin. 
 
 There is a local feeling connected with this occasion, too strong to be resisted ; 
 a sort of genius of the place, which inspires and awes us. We feel that we 
 are on the spot where the first scene of our history was laid ; where the 
 hearths and altars of New England were first placed; where Christianity, and 
 civilization, and letters made their first lodgement, in a vast extent of country, 
 covered with a wilderness, and peopled by roving barbarians. We are here, 
 at the season of the year at which the event took place. The imagination 
 irresistibly and rapidly draws around us the principal features and the leading 
 
97 
 
 characters in the original scene. We cast our eyes abroad on the ocean, and 
 we see where the little bark, with the interesting group upon its deck, made its 
 slow progress to the shore. We look around us, and behold the hills and 
 promontories where the anxious eyes of- our lathers first saw the places of 
 habitation and of rest We feel the cold which benumbed, and listen to the 
 winds which pierced them. Beneath us is the Rock, on which New England 
 received the feet of the Pilgrims. We seem even to behold them, as they 
 struggle with the elements, and with toilsome efforts, gain the shore. We 
 listen to the chiefs in council ; we see the unexampled exhibition of female 
 fortitude and resignation ; we hear the whisperings of youthful impatience ; 
 and we see, what a painter of our own has also represented by his pencil, 
 chilled and shivering childhood houseless, but for a mother s arms couch- 
 less, but for a mother s breast, till our own blood almost freezes. The mild 
 dignity of CARVER and of BRADFORD ; the decisive and soldier-like air and 
 manner of STANDISH; the devout BREWSTER; the enterprising ALLERTON ; 
 the general firmness and thoughtfulness of the whole band ; their conscious 
 joy for dangers escaped; their deep solicitude about dangers to come; their 
 trust in Heaven ; their high religious faith, full of confidence and anticipation ; 
 all of these seem to belong to this place, and to be present upon this occasion, 
 to fill us with reverence and admiration. 
 
 7 The settlement of New England by the colony which landed here on the 
 twenty-second of December, sixteen hundred and twenty, although not the 
 first European establishment in what now constitutes the United States, was 
 yet so peculiar in its causes and character, and has been followed, and must 
 still be foHowed by such consequences, as to give it a high claim to lasting 
 commemoration. On these causes and consequences, more than on its im 
 mediate attendant circumstances, its importance, as an historical event, depends. 
 Great actions and striking occurrences, having excited a temporary admiration, 
 often pass away and are forgotten, because they leave no lasting results, affect 
 ing the prosperity and happiness of communities. Such is frequently the 
 fortune of the most brilliant military achievements. Of the ten thousand 
 battles which have been fought, of all the fields fertilized with carnage, of the 
 banners which have been bathed in blood, of the warriors who have hoped 
 that they had risen from the field of conquest to a glory as bright and as 
 durable as the stars, how few that continue long to interest mankind ! The 
 victory of yesterday is reversed by the defeat of to-day ; the star of military 
 glory, rising like a meteor, like a meteor has fallen; disgrace and disaster 
 hang on the heels of conquest and renown; victor and vanquished presently 
 pass away to oblivion, and the world goes on in its course, with the loss only 
 of so many lives and so much treasure. 
 
 But if this be frequently, or generally, the fortune of military achievements, 
 it is not always so. There are enterprises, military as well as civil, which 
 sometimes check the current of events, give a new turn to human affairs, and 
 transmit their consequences through ages. We see their importance in their 
 results, and call them great, because great things follow. There have been 
 battles which have fixed the fate of nations. These come down to us in his 
 tory with a solid and permanent interest, not created by a display of glittering 
 armor, the rush of adverse battalions, the sinking and rising of pennons, tho 
 flight, the pursuit, and the victory ; but by their effect in advancing or retard 
 ing human knowledge, in overthrowing or establishing despotism, in extend 
 ing or destroying human happiness. When the traveller pauses on the plain 
 of Marathon, what are the emotions which strongly agitate his breast ? What 
 7 
 
98 
 
 is that glorious recollection, which thrills through his frame, and suffuses Lis 
 eyes ? Not, I imagine, that Grecian skill and Grecian valor were here most 
 signally displayed ; but that Greece herself was saved. It is because to this 
 spot, and to the event which has rendered it immortal, he refers all the sue 
 ceeding glories of the republic. It is because, if that day had gone other 
 wise, Greece had perished. It is because he perceives that her philosophers 
 and orators, her poets and painters, her sculptors and architects, her govern 
 ments and free institutions, point backward to Marathon, and that their future 
 existence seems to have been suspended on the contingency, whether the Per 
 sian or the Grecian banner should wave victorious in the beams of that day s 
 setting sun. And, as his imagination kindles at the retrospect, he is trans 
 ported back to the interesting moment; he counts the fearful odds of the 
 contending hosts ; his interest for the result overwhelms him ; he trembles, as 
 if it were still uncertain, and seems to doubt whether he may consider 
 Socrates and Plato, Demosthenes, Sophocles, and Phidias, as secure, yet, to 
 himself and to the world. 
 
 " If we conquer," said the Athenian commander on the approach of that 
 d*3isive day, "if we conquer, we shall make Athens the greatest city of 
 Greece." A prophecy, how well fulfilled! "If God prosper us," might 
 have been the more appropriate language of our fathers, when they landed 
 upon this Rock, "if God prosper us, we shall tare begin a work \vhich shall 
 last for ages; we shall plant here a new society, in the principle of the fullest 
 liberty and the purest n.ligion; we shall subdue this wilderness which is be 
 fore us; we shall fill this region of the great continent, which stretches almost 
 fi-om pole to pole, with civilization and Christianity; the temples of the true 
 God shall rise, where now ascends the smoke of idolatrous sacrifice; fields an<] 
 gardens, the flowers of summer, and the waving and golden harvest of 
 autumn shall spread over a thousand hills, and stretch along a thousand val 
 leys, never yet, since the creation, reclaimed to the use of civilized man. We 
 shall whiten the coast with the canvass of a prosperous commerce; we shall 
 stud the long and winding shore with a hundred cities. That which we sow 
 in weakness shall be raised in strength. From our sincere, but houseless 
 worship, there shall spring splendid temples to record God s goodness; from 
 the simplicity of our social union, there shall arise wise and politic constitu 
 tions of government^ full of the liberty which we ourselves bring and breathe 
 from our zeal for learning, institutions shall spring which shall scatter the 
 light of knowledge throughout the land, and, in time, paying back where 
 they have borrowed, shall contribute their part to the great aggregate of 1m 
 man knowledge; and our descendants, through all generations, shall look 
 k to this spot, and to this hour, with unabated affection and regard." 
 
 A brief remembrance of the causes which led to the settlement of this 
 place; some account of the peculiarities and charcteristic qualities of that set 
 tlement, as dHinguished from other instances of colonization ; a short notice 
 of tbo jwogress of New England in the great interests of society, during the 
 century which is now elapsed; with a few observations on the principles upon 
 which society and government are established in this country ; comprise all 
 that can be attempted, and much more than can be satisfactorily performed, 
 on the present occasion. 
 
 Of the motives which influenced the first settlers to a voluntary exile, in 
 duced them to relinquish their native country, and to seek an asylum in this 
 then unexplored wilderness, the first and principal, no doubt, were connected 
 with religion. They sought to enjoy a higher degree of religious freedom, 
 
99 
 
 and what they esteemed a purer form of religious worship, than was allowed 
 to their choice, or presented to their imitation, in the Old World. The love 
 of religious liberty is a stronger sentiment,, when fully excited, than an attach 
 ment to civil or political freedom. That freedom which the conscience de 
 mands, and which men feel bound by their hope of salvation to contend for, 
 can hardly fail to be attained. Conscience, in the cause of religion and the 
 worship of the Deity, prepares the mind to act and to suffer beyond almost all 
 other causes. It sometimes gives an impulse so irresistible, that no fetters of 
 power or of opinion can withstand it. History instructs us that this love of 
 religious liberty, a compound sentiment in the breast of man, made up of the 
 clearest sense of right and the highest conviction of duty, is able to look the 
 sternest despotism Tn the face, and, with means apparently most inadequate, to 
 shake principalities ar,d powers. There is a boldness, a spirit of daring, in 
 religious reformers, not to be measured by the general rules which control 
 men s purposes and actions. If the hand of power be laid upon it, this only 
 seems to augment its force and its elasticity, and to cause its action to be 
 more formidable and violent. Human invention has devised nothing, human 
 power has compassed nothing, that can forcibly restrain it, when it breaks 
 forth. Nothing can stop it, but to give way to it ; nothing can check it, but 
 to give way to indulgence. It loses its power only when it has gained its ob 
 ject. The principle of toleration, to which the world has come so slowly, is 
 at once the most just and the most wise of all principles. Even when reli- 
 gous feeling takes a character of extravagance and enthusiasm, and seems to 
 threaten the order of society and shake the columns of the social edifice, its 
 principal danger is in its restraint. If it be allowed indulgence and expan 
 sion, like the elemental fires, it only agitates, and perhaps purities the atmos 
 phere ; whilst its efforts to throw off restraint would burst the world asunder. 
 It is certain that, although many of them were republicans in principle, we 
 have no evidence that our New England ancestors would have emigrated, as 
 they did, from their own native country, would have become wanderers in 
 Europe, and finally would have undertaken the establishment of a colony 
 here, merely from their dislike of the political systems of Europe. They 
 fled not so much from the civil government, as from the hierarchy, and the 
 laws which enforced conformity to the church establishment. Mr. Robinson 
 had left England as early as 1608, on account of the persecutions for non 
 conformity, and had retired to Holland. He left England, from no disap 
 pointed ambition in affaire of state, from no regrets at the want of preferment 
 in the church, nor from any motive of distinction or of gain. Uniformity in 
 matters of religion was pressed with such extreme rigor, that a voluntary exile 
 seemed the most eligible mode of escaping from the penalties of noncompli- 
 ance. The accession of Elizabeth had, it is true, quenched the fires of Smith- 
 field, and put an end to the easy acquisition of the crown of martyrdom. 
 Her long reign had established the Reformation, but toleration was a virtue 
 beyond her conception, and beyond the age. She left no example of it to 
 her successor ; and he was not of a character which rendered it probable that 
 a sentiment either so wise or so liberal would originate with him. At the 
 present period, it seems incredible that the learned, accomplished, unassuming, 
 and inoffensive Robinson, should neither be tolerated in his peaceable mode of 
 worship in his own country, nor suffered quietly to depart from it. Yet such 
 was the fact. He left his country by stealth, that he might elsewhere enjoy 
 those rights which ought to belong to men in all countries. The departure 
 of the Pilgrims for Holland is deeply interesting, from its circumstances, and 
 
100 
 
 also as it marks the character of the times, independently of its connection 
 with names now incorporated with the history of empire. The embarkation 
 was intended to be made in such a manner, that it might escape the notice 
 of the officers of government. Great pains had been taken to secure boats, 
 which should come undiscovered to the shore, and receive the fugitives; and 
 frequent disappointments had been experienced in this respect. 
 
 At length the appointed time came, bringing with it unusual severity of 
 cold and rain. An unfrequented and barren heath, on the shores of Lin 
 colnshire, was the selected spot, where the feet of the Pilgrims were to tread, 
 for the last time, the land of their fathers. The vessel which was to receive 
 them did not come until the next day, and in the meantime the little band 
 was collected, and men and women a nd children and baggage were crowded 
 together, in melancholy and distressed confusion. The sea was rough, and 
 the women and children were already sick, from their passage down the river 
 to the place of embarkation on the sea. At length the wished-for boat silent 
 ly and fearfully approaches the shore, and men and women and children, 
 shaking with fear and with cold, as many as the small vessel could bear, ven 
 ture oft on a dangerous sea. Immediately the advance of horses is heard from 
 behind, armed men appear, and those not yet embarked are seized, and taken 
 into custody. In the hurry of the moment, the first parties had been sent on 
 board without any attempt to keep members of the same family together, and 
 on account of the appearance of the horsemen, the boat never returned for 
 the residue. Those who had got away, and those who had not. were in equal 
 distress-. A storm, of great violence and long duration, arose at sea, which 
 not only protracted the voyage, rendered distressing by the want of all those 
 accommodations which the interruption of the embarkation had occasioned, 
 but also forced the vessel out of her course, and menaced immediate ship 
 wreck; while those on shore, when they were dismissed from the custody of 
 the officers of justice, having no longer homes or houses to retire to, and their 
 friends and protectors being already gone, became objects of necessary charity, 
 as well as of deep commiseration. 
 
 As this scene passes before us, we can hardly forbear asking, whether this 
 be a band of malefactors and felons, flying from justice. What are their 
 crimes, that they hide themselves in darkness ? To what punishment are they 
 exposed, that, to avoid it, men, and women, and children, thus encounter the 
 surf of the North Sea, and the terrors of a night storm ? What induces 
 this armed pursuit, and this arrest of fugitives, of all ages and both sexes ? 
 Truth does not allow us to answer these inquiries in a manner that does credit 
 to the wisdom or the justice of the times. This was not the flight of guilt, 
 but of virtue. It was an humble and peaceable religion, flying from causeless 
 oppression. It was conscience, attempting to escape from the arbitrary rule 
 of the Stuarts. It was Robinson and Brewstei, leading off their little band 
 from their native soil, at first to find shelter on the shore of the neighboring 
 continent, but ultimately to come hither; and having surmounted all difficul 
 ties and braved a thousand dangers, to find here a place of refuge and of rest. 
 Thanks be to God, that this spot was honored as the asylum of religious liber 
 ty! May its standard, reared here, remain for ever! May it rise up as high 
 as heaven, till its banner shall fan the air of both continents, and wave as a 
 glorious ensign of peace and security to the nations ! 
 
 The peculiar character, condition, and circumstances of the colonies which 
 introduced civilization and an English race into New England, afford a most 
 interesting and extensive topic of discussion. On these, much of our subse- 
 
roi 
 
 quent character and fortune lias depended. Their influence has essentially 
 affected our whole history, through the two centuries which have elapsed ; 
 and as they have become intimately connected with government, laws, and 
 property, as well as our opinions on the Subjects of religion and civil liberty, 
 that influence is likely to continue to be felt through the centuries which shall 
 succeed. Emigration from one region to another, and the emission of colonies 
 to people countries more or less distant from the residence of the parent stock, 
 are common incidents in the history of mankind ; but it has not often, per 
 haps never happened, that the establishment of colonies should be attempted 
 under circumstances, however beset with present difficulties and dangers, yet 
 so favorable to ultimate success, and so conducive to magnificent results, as 
 those which attended the first settlements on this part of the American conti 
 nent. In other instances, emigration has proceeded from a less exalted pur 
 pose, in periods of less general intelligence, or more without plan and by acci 
 dent ; or under circumstances, physical and moral, less favorable to the expec 
 tation of laying a foundation for great public prosperity and future empire. 
 
 A great resemblance exists, obviously, between all the English colonies es 
 tablished within the present limits of the United States; but the occasion at 
 tracts our attention more immediately to those wh ich took possession of New 
 England, and the peculiarities of these furnish a strong contrast with most 
 other instances of colonization. 
 
 Among the ancient nations, the Greeks, no doubt, sent forth from their 
 territories the greatest number of colonies. So numerous, indeed, were they, 
 and so great the extent of space over which they were spread, that the parent 
 country fondly and naturally persuaded herself that by means of them she 
 had laid a sure foundation for the universal civilization of the world. These 
 establishments, from obvious causes, were most numerous in places most con 
 tiguous; yet they were found on the coasts of France, on the shores of the 
 Euxine Sea, in Africa, and even, as is alleged, on the borders of India. These 
 emigrations appear to have been sometimes voluntary and sometimes compul 
 sory ; arising from the spontaneous enterprise of individuals, or the order and 
 regulation of government. It was a common opinion with ancient writers, 
 that they were undertaken in religious obedience to the commands of oracles, 
 and it is probable that impressions of this sort might have had more or less 
 influence; but it is probable, also, that on these occasions the oracles did not 
 speak a language dissonant from the views and purposes of the state. 
 
 Political science among the Greeks seems never to have extended to the 
 comprehension of a system which should be adequate to the government of a 
 great nation upon principles of liberty. They were accustomed only to the 
 contemplation of small republics, and were led to consider an augmented 
 population as incompatible with free institutions. The desire of a remedy for 
 this supposed evil, and the wish to establish marts for trade, led the govern 
 ments often to undertake the establishment of colonies as an affair of state 
 expediency. Colonization and commerce, indeed, would naturally become 
 objects of interest to an ingenious and enterprising people, inhabiting a terri 
 tory closely circumscribed in its limits, and in no small part mountainous and 
 sterile ; while the islands of the adjacent seas, and the promontories and coasts 
 of the neighboring continents, by their mere proximity, strongly solicited the 
 excited spirit of emigration. Such was this proximity, in many instances, 
 thai the new settlements appeared rather to be the mere extension of popula 
 tion over contiguous territory, than the establishment of distant colonies. In 
 proportion as they were near to the parent state, they would be under it* 
 
102 
 
 authority, und partake of its fortunes. The colony at Marseilles might per 
 ceive lightly, or not at all, the sway of Phocis ; while the islands in the JEgean 
 Sea could hardly attain to independenco of their Athenian origin. Many of 
 these establishments took place at an early age ; and if there were defects in 
 the governments of the parent states, the colonists did not possess philosophy 
 or experience sufficient to correct such evils in their own institutions, even if 
 they had not been, by other causes, deprived of the power. An immediate 
 necessity, connected with the support of life, was the main and direct induce 
 ment to these undertakings, and there could hardly exist more than the hope 
 of a successful imitation of institutions with which they were already ac 
 quainted, and of holding an equality with their neighbors in the course of im 
 provement. The laws and customs, both political and municipal, as well as 
 the religious worship of the parent city, were transferred to the colony ; and 
 the parent city herself, with all such of her colonies as were not too far remote 
 for frequent intercourse and common sentiments, would appear like a family 
 of cities, more or less dependent, and more or less connected. We know how 
 imperfect this system was, as a system of general politics, and what scope it 
 gave to those mutual dissensions and conflicts which proved so fatal to Greece. 
 
 But it is more pertinent to our present purpose to observe, that nothing ex 
 isted in the character of Grecian emigrations, or in the spirit and intelligence 
 of the emigrants, likely to give a new and important direction to human af 
 fairs, or a new impulse to the human mind. Their motives were not high 
 enough, their views were not sufficiently large and prospective. They went 
 not forth, like our ancestors, to erect systems of more perfect civil liberty, or 
 to enjoy a higher degree of religious freedom. Above all, there was nothing 
 in the religion and learning of the age, that could either inspire high pur 
 poses, or give the ability to execute them. Whatever restraints on civil liber 
 ty, or whatever abuses in religious worship, existed at the time of our fathers 
 emigration, yet even then all was light in the moral and mental world, in 
 comparison with its condition in most periods of the ancient states. The 
 settlement of a new continent, in an age of progressive knowledge and im 
 provement, could not but do more than merely enlarge the natural boundaries 
 of the habitable world. It could not but do much more even than extend 
 commerce and increase wealth among the human race. We see how this 
 event has acted, how it must have acted, and wonder only why it did not act 
 sooner, in the production of moral effects, on the state of human knowledge, 
 the general tone of human sentiments, and the prospects of human happiness. 
 It gave to civilized man not only a new continent to be inhabited and culti 
 vated, and new seas to be explored ; but it it gave him also a new range for 
 his thoughts, new objects for curiosity, and new excitements to knowledge 
 and improvement. 
 
 Roman colonization resembled, far less than that of the Greeks, the origin 
 al settlements of this country. Power and dominion were the objects of 
 Rome, even in her colonial establishments. Her whole exterior aspect was for 
 centuries hostile and terrific. She grasped at dominion, from India to Britain, 
 and her measures of colonization partook of the character of her general 
 system. Her policy was military, because her objects were power, ascendency 
 and subjugation. Detachments of emigrants from Rome incorporated them 
 selves with, and governed, the original inhabitants of conquered countries. 
 She sent citizens where she had first sent soldiers; her law followed her sword. 
 Her colonies were a sort of military establishment : so many advanced posts 
 in the career of her dominion. A governor from Rome ruled the new colony 
 
103 
 
 with absolute sway, and often with unbounded rapacity. In Scicily, in Gaul, 
 in Spain, and in Asia, the power of Rome prevailed, not nominally only, but 
 really and effectually. Those who immediately exercised it were Roman; 
 the tone and tendency of its administration, Roman. Rome herself con 
 tinued to be the heart and centre of the great system which she had estab 
 lished. Extortion and rapacity, finding a wide and often rich field of action 
 in the provinces, looked nevertheless to the banks of the Tiber, as the scene in 
 which their ill-gotten treasures should be displayed ; or, if a spirit of more 
 honest acquisition prevailed, the object, nevertheless, was ultimate enjoyment 
 in Rome itself. If our own history and our own times did not sufficiently ex 
 pose the inherent and incurable evils of provincial government, we might see 
 them portrayed, to our amazement, in the desolated and ruined provinces of 
 the Roman empire. We might hear them, in a voice that terrifies us, in 
 those strains of complaint and accusation, which the advocates of the provin 
 ces poured forth in the Roman Forum : " Quas res luxuries in flagitiis, 
 crudelitas in suppliers, avaritia in rapinis, superbia in contumeliis, efficerc 
 potuisset, eas omnes sese pertulisse." 
 
 As was to be expected, the Roman provinces partook of the fortunes, as 
 well as of the sentiments and general character, of the seat of empire. They 
 lived together with her, they flourished with her, and fell with her. The 
 branches were lopped away even before the vast and venerable trunk itself 
 fell prostrate to the earth. Nothing had proceeded from her which could sup 
 port itself, and bear up the name of its origin, when her own sustaining ami 
 should be enfeebled or withdrawn. It was not given to Rome to see, either 
 at her zenith or in her decline, a child of her own, distant, indeed, and inde 
 pendent of her control, yet speaking her language and inheriting her blood, 
 springing forward to a competition with her own power, and a comparison 
 with her own great renown. She saw not a vast region of the earth peopled 
 from her stock, full of states and political communities, improving upon the 
 models of her institutions, and breathing in fuller measure the spirit which 
 she had breathed in the best periods of her existence; enjoying and extend 
 ing her arts and her literature; rising rapidly from political childhood to 
 manly strength and independence ; her offspring, yet now her equal ; uncon 
 nected with the causes which might affect the duration of her own power arid 
 greatness ; of common origin, but not linked to a common fate ; giving ample 
 pledge, that her name should not be forgotten; that her language should 
 not cease to be used among men ; that whatsoever she had done for human 
 knowledge and human happiness should be treasured up and preserved ; that 
 the record of her existence and her achievements should not be obscured, al 
 though, in the inscrutable purposes of Providence, it might be her destiny to 
 fall from opulence and splendor; although the time might come when dark 
 ness should settle on all her hills ; when foreign or domestic violence should 
 overturn her altars and her temples; when ignorance and despotism should 
 fill the places where Laws, and Arts, and Liberty had flourished ; when the 
 feet of barbarism should trample on the tombs of her consuls, and the walls 
 of her senate-house and forum echo only to the voice of savage triumph, 
 She saw not this glorious vision, to inspire and fortify her against the possible 
 decay or downfall of her power. Happy are they who in our day may be 
 hold it, if they shall contemplate it with the sentiments which it ought to 
 inspire ! 
 
 The New England colonies differ quite as widely from the Asiatic establish 
 ments of the modem European nations, as from the models of the ancient 
 
104 
 
 . states. The sole objects of those establishments was originally trade ; al 
 though we have seen, in one of them, the anomaly of a mere trading com 
 pany attaining a political character, disbursing revenues, and maintaining 
 armies and fortresses, until it has extended its control over seventy millions 
 of people. Differing from these, and still more from the New England and 
 North American colonies, are the European settlements in the West India 
 Islands. It is not strange that, when men s minds were turned to the settle 
 ment of America, different objects should be proposed by those who emi 
 grated to the different regions of so vast a country. Climate, soil and condi 
 tion were not all equally favorable to all pursuits. In the West Indies, the 
 purpose of those who went thither was to engage in that species of agricul 
 ture, suited to the soil and climate, which seems to bear more resemblance to 
 commerce, than to the hard and plain tillage of New England. The great 
 staples of these countries, being partly an agricultural and partly a manufac 
 tured product, and not being of the necessaries of life, become the object of 
 calculation, with respect to a profitable investment of capital, like any other 
 enterprise of trade or manufacture. The more especially, as, requiring, by 
 necessity or habit, slave labor for their production, the capital necessary to car 
 ry on the work of this production is very considerable. The West Indies are 
 resorted to, therefore, rather for the investment of capital, than for the purpose 
 of sustaining life by personal labor. Such as possess a considerable amount 
 of capital, or such as choose to adventure in commercial speculations without 
 capital, can alone be fitted to be emigrants to the islands. The agriculture of 
 these regions, as before observed, is a sort of commerce ; and it is a species of 
 employment in which labor seems to form an inconsiderable ingredient in the 
 productive causes, since the portion of white labor is exceedingly small, and 
 slave labor is rather more like profit on stock or capital, than labor properly 
 so called. The individual who undertakes an establishment of this kind, 
 takes into the account the cost of the necessary number of slaves, in the same 
 manner as he calculates the cost of the land. The uncertainty, too, of this 
 species of employment, affords another ground of resemblance to commerce. 
 Although gainful on the whole, and in a series of years, it is often very dis 
 astrous for a single year, and, as the capital is not readily invested in other 
 pursuits, bad crops or bad markets not only affect the profits, but the capital 
 itself. Hence the sudden depressions which take place in the value of such 
 estates. 
 
 But the great and leading observation, relative to these establishments, re 
 mains to be made. It is, that the owners ef the soil and of the capital sel 
 dom consider themselves at home in the colony. A very great portion of the 
 soil itself is usually owned in the mother country ; a still greater is mortgaged 
 for capital obtained there; and, in general, those who are to derive an inter 
 est from the products look to the parent country as the place for enjoyment 
 of their wealth. The population is therefore constantly fluctuating. Nobody 
 comes but to return. A constant succession of owners, agents and factors 
 takes place. Whatsoever the soil, forced by the unmitigated toil of slavery, 
 can yield, is sent home to defray rents, and interest, and agencies, or to give 
 the means of living in a better society. In such a state, it is evident that no 
 spirit of permanent improvement is likely to spring up. Profits will not be 
 invested with a distant view of benefiting posterity. Roads and canals will 
 hardly be built ; schools will not be founded ; colleges will not be endowed. 
 There will be few fixtures in society , no principles of utility or of elegance, 
 planted now, with the hope of being developed and expanded hereafter. 
 
105 
 
 Profit, immediate profit, must be the principal active spring in the social sys 
 tem. There may be many particular exceptions to these general remarks, but 
 the outline of the whole is such as is here drawn. 
 
 Another most important consequence of such a state of things is, that no 
 idea of independence of the parent country is likely to arise ; unless, indeed, it 
 should spring up in a form that would threaten universal desolation. The 
 inhabitants have no strong attachment to the place which they inhabit. The 
 hope of a great portion of them is to leave it ; and their great desire, to leave 
 it soon. However useful they may be to the parent state, how much soever 
 they may add to the conveniencies and luxuries of life, these colonies are not 
 favored spots for the expansion of the human mind, for the progress of per 
 manent improvement^ or for sowing the seeds of future independent empire. 
 Different, indeed, most widely different, from all these instances of emigra 
 tion and plantation, were the condition, the purposes, and the prospects of our 
 fathers, when they established their infant colony upon this spot. They came 
 hither from a land to which they were never to return. Hither they had 
 brought, and here they were to fix their hopes, their attachments, and their 
 objects in life. Some natural tears they shed, as they left the pleasant abodes 
 of their fathers, and some emotions they suppressed, when the wh.te cliffs of 
 their native country, now seen for the last time, grew dim to their sight. They 
 were acting however, on a resolution not to be daunted. With whatever 
 stifled regrets, with whatever occasional hesitation, with whatever appalling 
 apprehensions, which might sometimes arise with force to shake the firmest 
 purpose, they had yet committed themselves to Heaven and the elements ; and 
 a thousand leagues of water soon interposed to separate them for ever from 
 the region which gave them birth. A new existence awaited them here ; and 
 when they saw these shores, rough, cold, barbarous, and barren, as then they 
 were, they beheld their country. That mixed and strong feeling, which we call 
 love of country, and which is, in general, never extinguished in the heart of 
 man, grasped and embraced its proper object here. Whatever constitutes coun 
 try, except the earth and the sun, all the moral causes of affection and attach 
 ment which operate upon the heart, they had brought with them to their new 
 abode. Here were now their families and friends, their homes, and their 
 property. Before they reached the shore, they had established the elements 
 of a social system, and at a much earlier period had settled their forms of 
 religious worship. At the moment of their landing, therefore, they possessed 
 institutions of government, and institutions of religion; and friends and 
 families, and social and religious institutions, framed by consent, founded on 
 choice and preference, how nearly do these fill up our whole idea of country ! 
 The morning that beamed on the first night of their repose saw the Pilgrims 
 already at liome in their country. There were political institutions, and civil 
 liberty, and religious worship. Poetry has fancied nothing, in the wanderings 
 of heroes, so distinct and characteristic. Here was man, indeed, unprotected, 
 and unprovided for, on the shore of a rude and fearful wilderness ; but it was 
 politic, intelligent, and educated man. Every thing was civilized but the 
 physical world. Institutions, containing in substance all that ages had done 
 for human government, were organized in a forest. Cultivated mind was to 
 act on uncultivated nature ; and, more than all, a government and a country 
 were to commence, with the very first foundations laid under the divine right 
 of the Christian religion. Happy auspices of a happy futurity ! Who would 
 wish that his country s existence had otherwise begun ? Who would desire 
 the power of going back to the ages of fable ? Who would wish for an 
 
106 
 
 origin obscured in the darkness of antiquity ? Who would wish for other 
 emblazoning of his country s heraldry, or other ornaments of her genealogy, 
 than to be able to say, that her first existence was with intelligence, her first 
 breath the inspiration of liberty, her first principle the truth of divine 
 aelioion ? 
 
 Local attachments and sympathies would ere long spring up in the breasts 
 of our ancestors, endearing to them the place of their refuge. Whatever 
 natural objects are associated with interesting scenes and high efforts obtain a 
 hold on human feeling, and demand from the heart a sort of recognition and 
 regard. This Rock soon became hallowed in the esteem of the Pilgrims, and 
 these hills grateful to their sight. Neither they nor their children were again 
 to till the soil of England, nor again to traverse the seas which surround her. 
 But here was a new sea, now open to their enterprise, and a new soil, which 
 had not failed to respond gratefully to their laborious industry, and which 
 was already assuming a robe of verdure. Hardly had they provided shelter 
 for the living, ere they were summoned to erect sepulchres for the dead. The 
 ground had become sacred, by inclosing the remains of some of their com 
 panions and connections. A parent, a child, a husband, or a wife, had gone 
 the way of all flesh, and mingled with the dust of New England. We natu 
 rally look with strong emotions to the spot, though it be a wilderness, where 
 the ashes of those we have loved repose. Where the heart has laid down 
 what it loved most, there it is desirous of laying itself down. No sculptured 
 marble, no enduring monument, no honorable inscription, no ever-burning 
 taper that would drive away the darkness of the tomb, can soften our sense of 
 the reality of death, and hallow to our feelings the ground which is to cover 
 us, like the consciousness that we shall sleep, dust to dust, with the objects of 
 our affections. 
 
 In a short time other causes sprung up to bind the Pilgrims with new cords 
 to their chosen land. Children were born, and the hopes of future genera 
 tions arose, in the spot of their new habitation. The second generation found 
 this the land of their nativity, and saw that they were bound to its fortunes. 
 They beheld their fathers graves around them, and while they read the 
 memorials of their toils and labors, they rejoiced in the inheritance which they 
 found bequeathed to them. 
 
 Under the influence of these causes, it was to be expected that an interest 
 and a feeling should arise here, entirely different from the interest and feeling 
 of mere Englishmen ; and all the subsequent history of the colonies proves 
 this to have actually and gradually taken place. With a general acknowledg 
 ment of the supremacy of the British crown, there was, from the first, a re 
 pugnance to an entire submission to the control of British legislation. The 
 colonies stood upon their charters, which, as they contended, exempted them 
 from the ordinary power of the British Parliament, and authorized them to 
 conduct their own concerns by their own counsels. They utterly resisted the 
 notion that they were to be ruled by the mere authority of the government 
 at home, and would not endure even that their own charter governments 
 should be established on the other side of the Atlantic. It was not a con 
 trolling or protecting board in England, but a government of their own, and 
 existing immediately within their limits, which could satisfy their wishes. 
 It was easy to foresee, what we know also to have happened, that the first 
 great cause of collision and jealousy would be, under the notion of political 
 economy then and still prevalent in Europe, an attempt on the part of the 
 mother country to monopolize the trade of the colonjee. ( Whoever has looked 
 
 ? 
 
107 
 
 deeply into tne causes which produced our Revolution, has found, if I mistake 
 not, the original principal far back in this claim, on the part of England, to 
 monopolize our trade, and a continued effort on the part of the colonies to 
 rvsist or evade that monopoly ; if, indeed, it be not still more just and philoso 
 phical to go farther back, and to consider it decided, that an independent 
 g-overament must arise here, the moment it was ascertained that an English 
 eolony, such as landed in this place, could sustain itself against the dangers 
 which surrounded it, and, with other similar establishments, overspread the 
 rand with an English population. Accidental causes retarded at times, and 
 it times accelerated the progress of the controversy. The colonies wanted 
 strength and time to give it to them. They required measures of strong and 
 palpable injustice, on the part of the mother country, to justify resistance ; the 
 early part of the late king s reign furnished them. They needed spirits of 
 high order, of great daring, of long foresight, and of commanding power, to 
 seize the favoring occasion to strike a blow, which should sever, for all time, 
 the tie of colonial dependence ; and these spirits were found, in all the extent 
 which that or any crisis could demand, in Otis, Adams, Hancock, and the 
 other immediate authors of our independence. 
 
 Still, it is true that, for a century, causes had been in operation tending to 
 prepare things for this great result. In the year 1660, the English Act of 
 Navigation was passed; the first and grand object of which seems to have 
 been to secure to England the whole trade with her plantations. It was pro 
 vided by that act that none but English ships should transport American 
 produce over the ocean, and that the principal articles of that produce should 
 be allowed to be sold only in the markets of the mother country. Three 
 years afterwards another law was passed, which enacted that such commodi 
 ties as the colonies might wish to purchase should be bought only in the 
 markets of the mother country. Severe rules were prescribed to enforce the 
 provisions of these laws, and heavy penalties imposed on all who should 
 violate them. In the subsequent years of the same reign, other statutes were 
 enacted to re-enforce tiiese statutes, and other rules prescribed to secure a com 
 pliance with these lules. In this manner was the trade to and from the 
 colonies restricted, almost to the exclusive advantage of the parent country. 
 But laws, which rendered the interest of a whole people subordinate to that 
 of another people, were not likely to execute themselves ; nor was it easy to 
 find many on the spot> wlio could be depended upon for carrying them into 
 execution. In fact, these laws were more or less evaded or resisted, in all the 
 colonies. To enforce them was the constant endeavor of the government at 
 home ; to prevent or elude their operation, the perpetual object here. " The 
 laws of navigation," says a living British writer, " were nowhere so openly 
 disobeyed and contemned as in New England." " The people of Massachu 
 setts Bay," he adds, " were from the first disposed to act as if independent 
 of the mother country ; and having a governor and magistrates of their own 
 choice, it was difficult to enforce any regulation which came from the English 
 Parliament, adverse to their interests." To provide more effectually for the 
 execution of these laws, we kno^v that courts of admiralty were afterwards 
 established by the crown, with power to try revenue causes, as questions of 
 admiralty, upon the construction given by the crown lawyers to an act of Par 
 liament; a great departure from the ordinary principles of English jurispru 
 dence, but which has been maintained, nevertheless, by the force of habit 
 and precedent, and is adopted in our own existing forms of government. 
 
 " There lie," says another English writer, whose connection with the Board 
 
108 
 
 of Trade has enabled him to ascertain many facts connected with colonial 
 history, " There lie among the documents in the Board of Trade and State- 
 paper office, the most satisfactory proofs, from the epoch of the English 
 Revolution in 1688, throughout every reign, and during every administration, 
 of the settled purpose of the colonies to acquire direct independence and 
 positive sovereignty." Perhaps this may "be stated somewhat too strongly; 
 but it cannot be denied that, from the very nature of the establishments here, 
 and from the general character of the measures respecting their concerns early 
 ac^ppted and steadily pursued by the English government, a division of the 
 empire was the natural and necessary result to which every thing tended. 
 
 I have dwelt on this topic, because it seems to me that the peculiar original 
 character of the New England colonies, and certain causes coeval with their 
 existence, have had a strong and decided influence on all their subsequent 
 history, and especially on the great event of the Revolution. Whoever would 
 write our history, and would understand and explain early transactions, should 
 comprehend the nature and force of the feeling which I have endeavored to 
 describe. As a son, leaving the house of his father for his own, finds, by the 
 order of nature, and the very law of his being, nearer and dearer objects 
 around which his affections circle, while his attachment to the parental roof 
 becomes moderated, by degrees, to a composed regard and an affectionate re 
 membrance; so our ancestors, leaving their native land, not without some 
 violence to the feelings of nature and affection, yet, in time, found here a new 
 circle of engagements, interests and affections; a feeling, which more and 
 more encroached upon the old, till an undivided sentiment, that this was their 
 country, occupied the heart ; and patriotism, shutting out from its embraces 
 the parent realm, became local to America. 
 
 Some retrospect of the century which has now elapsed is among the duties 
 of the occasion. It must, however, necessarily be imperfect, to be compressed 
 within the limits of a single discourse. I shall content myself, therefore, with 
 taking notice of a few of the leading and most important occurrences Avhich 
 have distinguished the period. 
 
 When the first century closed, the progress of the country appeared to have 
 been considerable; notwithstanding that, in comparison with its subsequent 
 advancement, it now seems otherwise. A broad and lasting foundation had 
 been laid ; excellent institutions had been established ; many of the prejudices 
 of former times had been removed ; a more liberal and catholic spirit on sub 
 jects of religious concern had begun to extend itself, and many things con 
 spired to give promise of increasing future prosperity. Great men had arisen 
 in public life, and the liberal professions. The Mathers, father and son, were 
 then sinking low in the western horizon ; Leverett, the learned, the accom 
 plished, the excellent Leverett, was about to withdraw his brilliant and useful 
 light. In Pemberton great hopes had been suddenly extinguished, but 
 Prince and Colman were in our sky ; and along the east had begun to flash 
 the crepuscular light of a great luminary which was about to appear, and 
 which was to stamp the age with his own name, as the age of Franklin. 
 
 The bloody Indian wars, which harrassed the people for a part of the first 
 century; the restrictions on the trade of the colonies, added to the discourage 
 ments inherently belonging to all forms of colonial government; the distance 
 from Europe, and the sma\l hope of immediate profit to adventurers, are 
 among the causes which had contributed to retard the progress of population. 
 Perhaps it may be added, also, that during the period of the civil wars in 
 England, and the reign of Cromwell, many persons, whose religious opinions 
 
109 
 
 and religious temper might, under other circumstances, have induced them to 
 join the New England colonists, found reasons to remain in England; either 
 on account of active occupation in the scenes which were passing, or of an 
 anticipation of the enjoyment, in their o-wn country, of a form of government, 
 eivil and religious, accommodated to their views and principles. The violent 
 measures, too, pursued against the colonies in the reign of Charles the Second, 
 Che mockery of a trial, and the forfeiture of the charters, were serious evils. 
 And during the open violence of the short reign of James the Second, and 
 the tyranny of Andros, as the venerable historian of Connecticut observes, 
 " All the motives to great actions, to industry, economy, enterprise, wealth, 
 and population, were in a manner annihilated. A general inactivity and Ian- 
 guishment pervaded the public body. Liberty, property, and every thing 
 which ought to be dear to men, every day grew more and more insecure." 
 
 With the Revolution in England, a better prospect had opened on this 
 country, as well as on that. The joy had been as great at that event, and 
 far more universal, in New England than in Old England. A new charter 
 had been granted to Massachusetts, which, although it did not confirm to her 
 inhabitants all their former privileges, yet relieved them from great evils and 
 embarrassments, and promised future security. More than all, perhaps, the 
 Revolution in England had done good to the general cause of liberty and 
 justice. A blow had been struck in favor of the rights and liberties, not of 
 England alone, but of descendants and kinsmen of England all over the world. 
 Great political truths had been established. The champions of liberty had 
 been successful in a fearful and perilous conflict. Somers, and Cavendish, and 
 Jeky], and Howard, had triumphed in one of the most noble causes ever un 
 dertaken by men. A revolution had been made upon principle. A monarch 
 had been dethroned for violating the original compact between king and peo 
 ple. The rights of the people to partake in the government, and to limit 
 the monarch by fundamental rules of government, had been maintained ; and 
 however unjust the government of England might afterwards be towards 
 other governments or towards her colonies, she had ceased to be governed her 
 self by the arbitrary maxims of the Stuarts. 
 
 New England had submitted to the violence of James the Second not long 
 er than Old England. Not only was it reserved to Massachusetts, that on her 
 soil should be acted the first scene of that great revolutionary drama, which 
 was to take place near a century afterwards, but the English Revolution itself, 
 as far as the colonies were concerned, commenced in Boston. The seizure 
 and imprisonment of Andros, in April, 1689, were acts of direct and forcible 
 resistance to the authority of James the Second. The pulse of liberty beat 
 as high in the extremities as at the heart. The vigorous feeling of the colony 
 burst out before it was known how the parent country would finally conduct 
 herself. The king s representative, Sir Edmund Andros, was a prisoner in 
 the castle at Boston, before it was or could be known that the king himself 
 had ceased to exercise his full dominion on the English throne. 
 
 Before it was known here, whether the invasion of the Prince of Orange 
 would or could prove successful ; as soon only as it was known that it had 
 been undertaken, the people of Massachusetts, at the imminent hazards of 
 their lives and fortunes, had accomplished the revolution as for as respected 
 themselves. It is probable, that, reasoning on general principles, and the 
 known attachment of the English people to their constitution and liberties, 
 and their deep and fixed dislike of the king s religion and politics, the people 
 of New England expected a catastrophe fatal to the power of the reigning 
 
110 
 
 Prince. Yet, it was not either certain enough, or near enough, to come to 
 their aid against the authority of the crown, in that crisis which had arrived, 
 and in which they trusted to put themselves, relying on God, and their own 
 courage. There were spirits in Massachusetts, congenial with the spirits of the 
 distinguished friends of the revolution in England. There were these, who 
 were fit to associate with the boldest asserters of civil liberty ; and Mather 
 himself, then in England, was not unworthy to be ranked with those sons of 
 the church, whose firmness and spirit in resisting kingly encroachment in re 
 ligion, entitled them to the gratitude of their own and succeeding ages. 
 
 The second century opened upon New England under circumstances which 
 evinced that much had already been accomplished, and that still better pros 
 pects, and brighter hopes, were before her. She had laid, deep and strong, 
 the foundations of her society. Her religious principles were firm, and her 
 moral habits exemplary. Her public schools had begun to diffuse widely the 
 elements of knowledge ; and the College, under the excellent and acceptable 
 administration of Leverett, had been raised to a high degree of credit and 
 usefulness. 
 
 The commercial character of the country, notwithstanding all discourage 
 ment, had begun to display itself, aodfive hundred vessels, then belonging to 
 Massachusetts, placed her in relation to commerce, thus early, at the head of 
 the colonies. An author who wrote very near the close of the first century 
 says; "New England is almost deserving that noble name, so mightily hath 
 it increased ; and from a small settlement, at first, is now become a very popu 
 lous and flourishing government. The capital city, Boston, is a place of 
 great wealth and trade; and by much the largest of any in the English em 
 pire of America ; and not exceeded but by few cities, perhaps two or three, 
 in all the American world." 
 
 But, if our ancestors at the close of the first century, could look back with 
 joy, and even admiration at the progress of the country ; what emotions must 
 we not feel, when, from the point in which we stand, we look back and run 
 along the events of the century which has now closed ? The country, which 
 then, as we have seen was thought deserving of a " noble name;" which then 
 had " mightily increased," and become " very populous ;" what was it, in com 
 parison with what our eyes behold it ? At that period, a very great propor 
 tion of its inhabitants lived in the eastern section of Massachusetts proper, and 
 in this colony. In Connecticut, there were towns along the coast, some of 
 them respectable, but in the interior, all was a wilderness beyond Hartford. 
 On Connecticut river, settlements had proceeded as far up as Deerfield, and 
 Fort Dummer had been built, near where is now the south line of New Hamp 
 shire. In New Hampshire, no settlement was then begun thirty miles from the 
 mouth of Piscataqua river, and, in what is now Maine, the inhabitants were 
 confined to the coast. The aggregate of the whole population of New Eng 
 land did not exceed one hundred and sixty thousand. Its present amount is 
 probably one million seven hundred thousand. Instead of being confined to 
 its former limits, her population has rolled backward and filled up the spaces 
 included within her actual local boundaries. Not this only, but it has over 
 flowed those boundaries, and the waves of emigration have pressed further and 
 further toward the west. The Alleghany has not checked it ; the banks of 
 the Ohio have been covered with it. New England farms, houses, villages, 
 and churches spread over, and adorn the immense extent from the Ohio to 
 Lake Erie; and stretch along, from the Alleghany onwards, beyond the 
 Miamis, and toward the Falls of St. Anthony. Two thousand miles west- 
 
Ill 
 
 ward from the rock where their fathers landed, may now be found the sons of 
 the Pilgrims; cultivating smiling fields, rearing towns and village?, and cher 
 ishing, we trust, the patrimonial blessings of wise institutions, of liberty and 
 religion. The world has seen nothing like this. Regions large enough to 
 be empires, and which, half a century ago, were known only as remote and 
 unexplored wildernesses, are now teeming with population, and prosperous in 
 all the great concerns of life; in good governments, the means of subsistence, 
 and social happiness, It may be safely asserted, that there are now more than 
 a million of people, descendants of New England ancestry, living free and 
 happy, in regions, which hardily sixty years ago were tracts of impenetrated 
 forest. Nor do rivers, or mountains, or seas resist the progress of industry and 
 enterprise. Ere long, the sons of the Pilgrims will be on the shores of the 
 Pacific, The imagination hardily keeps up with the progress of population, 
 improvement, and civilization. 
 
 It is now. five and forty years, since the growth and rising glory of Ameri 
 ca were portrayed in the English parliament, with inimitable beauty, by the 
 most consummate orator of modern times. Going back somewhat more than 
 half a century, and describing our progress as foreseen from that point, by his 
 amiable friend Lord Bathurst, then living, he spoke of the wonderful progress 
 which America had made during the period of a single human life. There 
 is no American heart, I imagine, that does not glow, both with conscious 
 patriotic pride, and admiration for one of the happiest efforts of eloquence, so 
 often as the vision, of " that little speck, scarce visible in the mass of national 
 interest, a small seminal principle, rather than a formed body," and the pro 
 gress of its astonishing developement and growth, are recalled to the recollec 
 tion. But a stronger feeling might be produced, if we were able to take up 
 this prophetic description where he left it ; and placing ourselves at the point 
 of time in which he was speaking, to set forth with equal felicity the subse 
 quent progress of the country. There is yet among the living a most distin 
 guished and venerable name, a descendant of the Pilgrims; one who has been 
 attended through life by a great and fortunate genius ; a man illustrious by 
 his own great merits, and favored of Heaven in the long continuation of his 
 years. The time when the English orator was thus speaking of America, 
 preceded, by a few days, the actual opening of the revolutionary drama at 
 Lexington. He to whom I have alluded, then at the age of forty, was among 
 the most zealous and able defenders of the violated rights of his country. 
 He seemed already to have filled a full measure of public service, and attain 
 ed an honorable fame. The moment was full of difficulty and danger, and 
 big with events of immeasurable importance. The country was on the very 
 brink of a civil war, of which no man could foretell the duration or the re 
 sult. Something more than a courageous hope, or characteristic ardor, would 
 have been necessary to impress the glorious prospect on his belief, if, at that 
 moment, before the sound of the first shock of actual" war had reached his 
 ears, some attendant spirit had opened to him the vision of the future ; if it 
 had said to him, -The blow is struck, and America is severed from England 
 forever!" if it had informed him, that he himself, the next annual revolution 
 of the sun, should put his own hand to the great instrument of Independence, 
 and write his name where all nations should behold it, and all time should not 
 efface it; that ere long he himself should maintain the interest and represent 
 the sovereignty of his new-born country, in the proudest courts of Europe; 
 that he should one day exercise her supreme magistracy; that he should yet 
 live to behold ten millions of fellow citizens paying him the homage of their 
 
112 
 
 deepest gratitude and kindest affections; that he should see distinguished tal 
 ent and high public trust resting where his name rested ; and that he should 
 even see with his own unclouded eyes, the close of the second century of New 
 England, who had begun life almost with its commencement, and lived through 
 nearly half the whole history of his country ; and that on the morning of this 
 auspicious day, he should be found in the political councils of his native state, 
 revising by the light of experience, that system of government, which forty 
 years before he had assisted to frame and establish ; and great and happy as 
 be should then behold his country, there should be nothing in prospect to 
 cloud the scene, nothing to check the ardor of that confident and patriotic 
 hope, which should glow in his bosom to the end of his long protracted and 
 happy life. 
 
 It would far exceed the limits of this discourse, even to mention the princi 
 pal events even in the civil and political history of New England during the 
 century ; the more so, as for the last half of the period, that history has been 
 most happily, closely interwoven with the general history of the United States. 
 New England bore an honorable part in the wars which took place between 
 England and France. The capture of Louisburg gave her a character for 
 military achievement ; and in the war which terminated with the peace of 
 1763, her exertions on the frontiers were of most essential service as well to 
 the mother country as to all the colonies. 
 
 In New England the war of the revolution commenced. I address those 
 who remember the memorable 19th of April, 1775; who shortly after saw 
 the burning spires of Charlestown ; who beheld the deeds of Prescott, and 
 heard the voice of Putnam, amidst the storm of war, and saw the generous 
 Warren fall, the first distinguished victim in the cause of liberty. It would 
 be superfluous to say, that no portion of the country did more than the states 
 of New England, to bring the revolutionary struggle to a successful issue. 
 It is scarcely less to her credit, that she saw eany the necessity of a closer 
 union of the states, and gave an efficient and indispensable aid to the estab 
 lishment and organization of the federal government. 
 
 Perhaps we might safely say, that a new spirit, and a new excitement be 
 gan to exist here, about the middle of the last century. To whatever causes 
 it may be imputed, there seems then to have commenced a more rapid im 
 provement. The colonies had attracted more of the attention of the mother 
 country, and some renown in arms had been acquired. Lord Chatham was 
 the first English minister who attached high importance to these possessions 
 of the crown, and who foresaw anything of their future growth and extension. 
 His opinion was, that the great rival of England was chiefly to be feared as a 
 maritime and commercial power, and to drive her out of North America, and 
 deprive her of her West India possessions was a leading object in his policy. 
 He dwelt often on the fisheries, as nurseries of British seamen, and the colo 
 nial trade, as furnishing them employment. The war, conducted by him with 
 vigor, terminated in a peace, by which Canada was ceded to England. The 
 effect of this was immediately visible in the New England colonies ; for the 
 fear of Indian hostilities on the frontiers being now happily removed, settle 
 ments went on with an activity before that time altogether unprecedented, and 
 public affairs wore a new and encouraging aspect. Shortly after this fortu 
 nate termination of the French war, the interesting topics connected with the 
 taxation of America by the British Parliament began to be discussed, and the 
 attention and all the faculties of the people drawn towards them. There is 
 perhaps no portion of our history moi i full of interest than the period from 
 
113 
 
 1760 to the actual commencement of the war. The progress of opinion, in 
 this period, though less known, is not less important, than the progress of arms 
 afterwards. Nothing deserves more consideration than those events and dis 
 cussions which affected the public sentiment, and settled the revolution in 
 men s minds, before hostilities openly broke out. 
 
 Internal improvement followed the establishment, and prosperous com 
 mencement, of the present government. More has been done for roads, 
 canals, and other public works, within the last thirty years, than in all our 
 former history. In the first of these particulars, few countries excel the New 
 England States. The astonishing increase of the navigation and trade is 
 known to every one, and now belongs to the history of our national wealth. 
 
 We may flatter ourselves, too, that literature and taste have not been 
 stationary, and that some advancement has been made in the elegant, as well 
 as in the useful arts. 
 
 The nature and constitution of society and government in this country are 
 interesting topics, to which I would devote what remains of the time allowed 
 to this occasion. Of our system of government the first thing to be said is, 
 that it is really and practically a free system. It originates entirely with the 
 people, and rests on no other foundation than their assent. To judge of its 
 actual operation, it is not enough to look merely at the form of its construc 
 tion. The practical character of government depends often on a variety of 
 considerations, besides the abstract frame of its constitutional organization. 
 Among these are the condition and tenure of property ; the laws regulating 
 its alienation and descent; the presence or absence of a military power; an 
 armed or unarmed yeomanry; the spirit of the age, and the degree of general 
 intelligence. In these respects it cannot be denied that the circumstances of 
 this country are most favorable to the hope of maintaining the government 
 of a great nation on principles entirely popular. In the absence of military 
 power, the nature of government must essentially depend on the manner in 
 which property is holden and distributed. There is a natural influence be 
 longing to property, whether it exists in many hands or few ; and it is on the 
 right of property that both* despotism and unrestrained popular violence or 
 dinarily commence their attacks. Our ancestors began their system of gov 
 ernment here under a condition of comparative equality in regard to wealth, 
 and their early laws were of a nature to favor and continue this equality. 
 
 A republican form of government rests not more on political constitutions, 
 than on those laws which regulate the descent and transmission of property. 
 Governments like ours could not have been maintained, where property was 
 holden according to the principles of the feudal system ; nor, on the other 
 hand, could the feudal constitution possibly exist with us. Our New England 
 ancestors brought hither no great capitals from Europe; and if they had, 
 there was nothing productive in which they could have been invested. They 
 left behind them the whole feudal policy of the other continent. They broke 
 away at once from the system of military service established in the Dark 
 Ages, and which continues, down even to the present time, more or less to 
 affect the condition of property all over Europe. They came to a new country. 
 There were, as yet, no lands yielding rent, and no tenants rendering service. 
 The whole soil was unreclaimed from barbarism. They were themselves, 
 either from their original condition, or from the necessity of their common in 
 terest, nearly on a general level in respect to property. Their situation de 
 manded a parcelling out and division of the lands, and it may be fairly said 
 that this necessary &zi fixed the future frame and form of their government. 
 
114 
 
 The character of their political institutions was determined by the fundamen 
 tal laws respecting property. The laws of primogeniture, at first limited and 
 curtailed, was afterwards abolished. The property was all freehold. The en- 
 tailment of estates, long trusts, and the other processes for fettering and tying 
 up inheritances, were not applicable to the condition of society, and seldom 
 made use of. On the contrary, alienation of the land was every way facilita 
 ted, even to the subjecting of it to every species of debt. The establishment 
 of public registries, and the simplicity of our forms of conveyance, have 
 greatly facilitated the change of real estate from one proprietor to another. 
 The consequence of all these causes has been, a great subdivision of the soil, 
 and a great equality of condition; the true basis, most certainly, of a popular 
 government. " If the people," says Harrington, " hold three parts in four of 
 the territory, it is plain there can neither be any single person nor nobility 
 able to dispute the government with them; in this case, therefore, except 
 force be interposed, they govern themselves." 
 
 The history of other nations may teach us how favorable to public liberty 
 are the division of the soil into small freeholds, and a system of laws, of 
 which the tendency is, without violence or injustice, to produce and to pre 
 serve a degree of equality of property. It has been estimated, if I mistake 
 not, tb^at about the time of Henry the Seventh four-fifths of the land in 
 England was holden by the great barons and ecclesiastics. The effects of a 
 growing commerce soon afterwards began to break in on this state of things, 
 and before the Revolution, in 1688, a vast change had been wrought. It 
 may be thought probable that, for the last half century, the process of sub 
 division in England has been retarded, if not reversed ; that the great weight 
 of taxation has compelled many of the lesser freeholders to dispose of their 
 estates, and to seek employment in the army and navy, in the professions of 
 civil life, in commerce, or in the colonies. The effect of this on the British 
 constitution cannot but be most unfavorable. A few large estates grow larger ; 
 but the number of those who have no estates also increases; and there may 
 be danger, lest the inequality of property become so great, that those who 
 possess it may be dispossessed by force ; in other words, that the government 
 may be overturned. 
 
 A most interesting experiment of the effect of a subdivision of property on 
 government is now making in France. It is understood, that the law regu 
 lating the transmission of property in that country, now divides it, real and 
 personal, among all the children equally, both sons and daughters; and that 
 there is, also, a very great restraint on the power of making dispositions of 
 .property by will. It has been supposed, that the effects of this might proba 
 bly be, in time, to break up the soil into such small subdivisions, that the pro 
 prietors would be too poor to resist the encroachments of executive power. I 
 think far otherwise. What is lost in individual wealth will be more than 
 gained in numbers, in intelligence, and in a sympathy of sentiment. If, in 
 deed, only one or a few landholders were to resist the crown, like the barons 
 of England, they must, of course, be great and powerful landholders, with 
 multitudes of retainers, to promise success. But if the proprietors of a given 
 extent of territory are summoned to resistance, there is no reason to believe 
 that such resistance would be less forcible, or less successful, because the num 
 ber of such proprietors happened to be great. Each would perceive his own 
 importance, and his own interest, and would feel that natural elevation of 
 character which the consciousness of property inspires. A common senti 
 ment would unite ah 1 , and numbers would not only add strength, but excite 
 
115 
 
 enthusiasm. It is true, that France possesses a vast military force, undei the 
 direction of an heriditary executive government ; and military power, it is pos 
 sible, may overthrow any government. It is in vain, however, in this period 
 of the world, to look for security against military power to the arm of the 
 great landholders. That notion is derived from a state of things long sine* 
 past; a state in which a feudal baron, with his retainers, might stand against 
 the sovereign and his retainers, himself but the greatest baron. But at pres 
 ent, what could the richest landholder do, against one regiment of disciplined 
 troops ? Other securities, therefore, against the prevalence of military power 
 must be provided. Happily for us, we are not so situated as that any purpose 
 of national defence requires, ordinarily and constantly, such a military force as 
 might seriously endanger our liberties. 
 
 In respect, however, to the recent law of succession in France, to which I 
 have alluded, I would, presumptiously perhaps, hazard a conjecture, that, if 
 the government do not change the law, the law in half a century will change 
 the government ; and that this change will be, not in favor of the power of 
 the crown, as some European writers have supposed, but against it. Those 
 writers only reason upon what they think correct general principles, in relation 
 to this subject. They acknowledge a want of experience. Here we have had 
 that experience ; and we know that a multitude of small proprietors, acting 
 with intelligence, and that enthusiasm which a common cause inspires, con 
 stitute not only a formidable, but an invincible power. 
 
 The true principle of a free and popular government would seem to be, so 
 to construct it as to give to all, or at least to a very great majority, an interest 
 in its preservation ; to found it, as other things are founded, on men s interest. 
 The stability of government demands that those who desire its continuance 
 should be more powerful than those who desire its dissolution. This power, 
 of course, is sot always to be measured by mere numbers. Education, wealth, 
 talents, are all parts and elements of the general aggregate of power ; but 
 numbers, nevertheless, constitute ordinarily the most important consideration, 
 unless, indeed, there be a military force in the hands of the few, by which they 
 can controj the many. In this country we have actually existing systems of 
 government, in the maintenance of which, it should seem, a great majority, 
 both in numbers and in other means of power and influence, must see their 
 interest. But this state of things is not brought about solely by writtten po 
 litical constitutions, or the mere manner of organizing the government; but 
 also by the laws which regulate the descent and transmission of property. 
 The freest government, if it could exist, would not be long acceptable, if the 
 tendency of the laws were to create a rapid accumulation of property in few 
 hands, and to render the great- mass of the population dependent and penni 
 less. In such a case, the popular power would be likely to break in upon the 
 rights of property, or else the influence of property to limit and control the 
 exercise of popular power. Universal suffrage, for example, could not long 
 exist in a community where there was great inequality of property. The 
 holders of estates would be obliged, in such case, in some way to restrain the 
 right of suffrage, or else such right of suffrage would, before long, divide tho 
 property. In the nature of things, those who have not property, and see their 
 neighbors possess much more than they think them to need, cannot be favora 
 ble to laws made for the protection of property. When this class becomes 
 numerous, it grows clamorous. It looks on property as its prey and plunder, 
 and is naturally ready, at all times, for violence and revolution. 
 
 It would seem, then, to be the part of political wisdom to found government 
 
116 
 
 on property ; and to establish such distribution of property, by the laws which 
 regulate its transmission and alienation, as to interest the great majority of so 
 ciety in the support of the government. This is, I imagine, the true theory 
 and the actual practice of our republican institutions. With property divided 
 as we have it, no other government than that of a republic could be maintained 
 even were we foolish enough to desire it. There is reason, therefore, to ex 
 pect a long continuance of our system. Party and passion, doubtless, may 
 prevail at times, and much temporary mischief be done. Even modes and 
 forms may be changed, and perhaps for the worse. But a great revolution in 
 regard to property must take place, before our governments can be moved 
 from their republican basis, unless they be violently struck off by military 
 power. The people possess the property, more emphatically than it could 
 ever be said of the people of any other country, and they can have no 
 interest to overturn a government which protects that property by equal 
 laws. 
 
 Let it not be supposed, that this state of things possesses too strong ten 
 dencies towards the production of a dead and uninteresting level in society. 
 Such tendencies are sufficiently counteracted by the infinite diversities in the 
 characters and fortunes of individuals. Talent, activity, industry, and en 
 terprise tend at all times to produce inequality and distinction; and there is 
 room still for the accumulation of wealth, with its great advantages, to all rea 
 sonable and useful extent. It has been often urged against the state of socie 
 ty in America, that it furnishes no class of fortune and leisure. This may be 
 partly true, but it is not entirely so, and the evil, if it be one, would affect 
 rather the progress of taste and literature, than the general prosperity of the 
 people. But the promotion of taste and literature cannot be primary objects 
 of political institutions; and if they could, it might be doubted whether, in 
 the long course of things, as much is not gained by a wide diffusion of gen 
 eral knowledge, as is lost by diminishing the number of those who are ena 
 bled by fortune and leisure to devote themselves exclusively to scientific and 
 literary pursuits. However this may be, it is to be considered that it is the 
 spirit of our system to be equal and general, and if there be particular disad 
 vantages incident to this, they are far more than counterbalanced by the ben 
 efits which weigh against them. The important concerns of society are gen 
 erally conducted, in all countries, by the men of business and practical ability ; 
 and even in matters of taste and literature, the advantages of mere leisure are 
 liable to be overrated. If there exist adequate means of education and a love 
 of letters be excited, that love will find a way to the object of its desire, through 
 the crowd and pressure of the most busy society. 
 
 Connected with this division of property, and the consequent participation 
 of the great mass of people in its possession and enjoyments, is the system of 
 representation, which is admirably accommodated to our condition, better un 
 derstood among us, and more familiarly and extensively practiced, in the high 
 er and in the lower departments of government, than it has been by any other 
 people. Great facility has been given to this in New England by the early 
 division of the country into townships or small districts, in which all concerns 
 of local police are regulated, and in which representatives to the legislature are 
 elected. Nothing can exceed the utility of 1 these little bodies. They are so 
 many councils or parliaments, in which common interests are discussed, and 
 useful knowledge acquired and communicated. 
 
 The division of governments into departments, and the division, again, of 
 the legislative department into two chambers, are essential provisions in our 
 
117 
 
 system. This last, although not new in itself, yet seems to be new in its ap 
 plication to governments wholly popular. The Grecian republics, it is plain, 
 knew nothing of it; and in Rome, the. check and balance of legislative power, 
 such as it was, lay between the people and the senate. Indeed, few things 
 are more difficult than to ascertain accurately the true nature and construction 
 of the Roman commonwealth. The relative power of the senate and the 
 people of the consuls and the tribunes, appears not to have been at all times 
 the same, nor at any time accurately denned or strictly observed. Cicero, in 
 deed, describes to us an admirable arrangement of political power, and a bal 
 ance of the constitution, in that beautiful passage, in which he compares the 
 democracies of Greece with the Roman commonwealth." " morern precla- 
 rum, disciplinamque, quam a majoribns accepimus, si quidem teneremus ! sed 
 nescio quo pacto jam de manibus elabitur. Nullam enim illi nostri sapientis- 
 simi et sanctissimi viri vim concionis esse voluerunt, qu< scisseret plebs, aut 
 quae populus juberet; summota conscione, distributes partibus, tributim et 
 centuriatim descriptis ordinibus, classibus, setatibus, auditus auctoribus, re mul- 
 tos dies promulgata et cognita, juberi vetarique voluerunt. Gra3corum autem 
 totre respublicse sedentis concionis temeritate administrantur." 
 
 But at what time this wise system existed in this perfection at Rome, no 
 proofs remain to show. Her constitution, originally framed for a monarchy, 
 never seemed to be adjusted in its several parts after the expulsion of the 
 kings. Liberty there was, but it was a disputatious, an uncertain, an ill-se 
 cured liberty. The patrician and plebian orders, instead of being matched 
 and joined, each in its just place and proportion, to sustain the fabric of the 
 state, were rather like hostile powers, in perpetual conflict. With us, an at 
 tempt has been made, and so far not without success, to divide representation 
 into chambers, and, by difference of age, character, qualification, or mode of 
 election, to establish salutary checks, in governments altogether elective. 
 
 Having detained you so long with these observations, I must yet adveit to 
 another most interesting topic, the Free Schools. In this particular, New 
 England may be allowed to claim, I think, a merit of a peculiar character, 
 She early adopted, and has constantly maintained the principle, that it is the 
 undoubted right and the bounden duty of government to provide for the in 
 struction of all youth. That which is elsewhere left to chance or charity, we 
 secure by law. For the purpose of public instruction, we hold every man 
 subject to taxation in proportion to his property, and we look not to the ques 
 tion, whether he himself have, or have not, children to be benefitted by the 
 education for which he pays. We regard it as a wise and liberal system of 
 police, by which property, and life, and the peace of society are secured. We 
 seek to prevent in some measure the extension of the penal code, by inspiring 
 a salutary and conservative principle of virtue and of knowledge in an early 
 age. We strive to excite a feeling of respectability, and a sense of character, 
 by enlarging the capacity and increasing the sphere of intellectual enjoyment 
 By general instruction, we seek, as far possible, to purify the whole moral 
 atmosphere ; to keep good sentiments uppermost, and to turn the strong cur 
 rent of feeling and opinion, as well as the censures of the law and the denun 
 ciations of religion, against immorality and crime. We hope for a security 
 beyond the law, and above the law, in the prevalence of an enlightened and 
 veil-principled moral sentiment. We hope to continue and prolong the time, 
 when, hi the villages and farm-houses of New England, there may be undis 
 turbed sleep within unbarred doors. And knowing that our government rests 
 directly on the public will, in order that we may preserve it, we endeavor to 
 
118 
 
 give a safe and proper diix^tior io that public will. We do not, indeed, ex 
 pect all men to be philosophers or statesmen ; but we confidently trust, and 
 our expectation of the duration of our system of government rests on that 
 trust, that, by the diffusion of general knowledge and good and virtuous sen 
 timents, the political fabric may be secure, as well against open violence and 
 overthrow, as against the slow, but sure, undermining of licentiousness. 
 
 We know that, at the present time, an attempt is making in the English 
 Parliament to provide by law for the education of the poor, and that a gen 
 tleman of distinguished character (Mr. Brougham) has taken the lead in pre 
 senting a plan to government for carrying that purpose into effect. And yet, 
 although the representatives of the three kingdoms listened to him with as 
 tonishment as well as delight, we hear no principles with which we ourselves 
 have not been familiar from youth ; we see nothing in the plan but an ap 
 proach towards that system which has been established in New England for 
 more than a century and a half. It is said that in England not more than 
 one child in fifteen possesses the means of being taught to read and write ; 
 in Wales, one in twenty ; in France, until lately, when some improvement was 
 made, not more than one in thirty-five. Now, it is hardly too strong to say, 
 that in New England every child possesses such means. It would be diffi 
 cult to find an instance to the contrary, unless where it should be owing to the 
 negligence of the parent; and, in truth, the means are actually used and en 
 joyed by nearly every one. A youth of fifteen, of either sex, who cannot 
 both read and write, is very seldom to be found. Who can make this com 
 parison, or contemplate this spectacle, without delight and a feeling of just 
 pride ? Does any history show property more beneficently applied ? Did any 
 government ever subject the property of those who have estates to a burden, 
 for a purpose more favorable to the poor, or more useful to the whole com 
 munity ? 
 
 A conviction of importance of public instruction was one of the earliest 
 sentiments of our ancestors. No lawgiver of ancient or modern times has ex 
 pressed more just opinions, or adopted wiser measures, than the early records 
 of the Colony of Plymouth show to have prevailed here. Assembled on this 
 very spot, a hundred and fifty three years ago, the legislature of this Colony 
 declared, " Forasmuch as the maintenance of good literature doth much tend 
 to the advancement of the weal and flourishing state of societies and repub 
 lics, this Court doth therefore order, that in whatever township in this govern 
 ment, consisting of fifty families or upwards, any meet man shall be obtained 
 to teach a grammar school, such township shall allow at least twelve pounds, 
 to be raised by rate on all the inhabitants." 
 
 Having provided that all youth should be instructed in the elements of 
 learning by the institution of free schools, our ancestors had yet another duty 
 to perform. Men were to be educated for the professions and the public. 
 For this purpose they founded the University, and with incredible zeal and 
 perseverance they cherished and supported it, through all trials and discour 
 agements. On the subject of the University, it is not possible for a son of 
 New England to think without pleasure, or to speak without emotion. Noth 
 ing confers more honor on the State where it it is established, or more utility 
 on the country at large. A respectable university is an establishment which 
 must be the work of time. If pecuniary means were not wanting, no new 
 institution could possess character and respectability at once. We owe deep 
 obligation to our ancestors, who began, almost on the moment of their arrival 
 the work of building up the institution. 
 
119 
 
 Although established in a different government, the Colony of Plymouth 
 manifested warm friendship for Harvard College. At an early period, its 
 gove-rnment took measures to promote a general subscription throughout all 
 the towns in this Colony, in aid of its small funds. Other colleges were sub 
 sequently founded and endowed, in other places, as the ability of the people 
 allowed ; and we may flatter ourselves, that the means of education at present 
 enjoyed in New England are not only adequate to the diffusion of the ele 
 ments of knowledge among all classes, but sufficient also for respectable at 
 tainments in literature and the sciences. 
 
 Lastly, our ancestors established their system of government on morality 
 and religious sentiment. Moral habits, they believed, cannot safely be trusted 
 on any other foundation than religious principle, nor any government be se 
 cure which is not supported by moral habits. Living under the heavenly 
 light of revelation, they hoped to find all the social dispositions, all the duties 
 winch men owe to each other and to society, enforced and performed. What 
 ever makes men good Christians, makes them good citizens. Our fathers 
 came here to enjoy their religion free and unmolested ; and, at the end of two 
 centuries, there is nothing upon which we can pronounce more confidently, 
 nothing of which we can express a more deep and earnest conviction, than of 
 the inestimable importance of that religion to man, both in regard to this life 
 and that which is to come. 
 
 If the blessings of our political and social condition have not been too 
 highly estimated, we cannot well overrate the responsibility and duty which 
 they impose upon us. We hold these institutions of government, religion, and 
 learning, to be transmitted, as well as enjoyed. We are in the line of con 
 veyance, through which whatever has been obtained by the spirit and efforts 
 of our ancestors is to be communicated to our children. 
 
 We are bound to maintain public liberty, and, by the example of our own 
 systems, to convince the world that order and law, religion and morality, the 
 rights of conscience, the rights of persons, and the rights of property, may all 
 be preserved and secured, in the most perfect manner, by a government entire 
 ly and purely elective. If we fail in this, our disaster will be signal, and will 
 furnish an argument, stronger than has yet been found, in support of those 
 opinions which maintain that government can rest safely on nothing but pow 
 er and coercion. As far as experience may show errors in our establishments, 
 we are bound to correct them ; and if any practices exist contrary to the prin 
 ciples of justice and humanity within the reach of our laws or our influence, 
 we are inexcusable if we do not exert ourselves to restrain and abolish 
 them. 
 
 I deem it my duty on this occasion to suggest, that the land is not yet 
 wholly free from the contamination of a traffic, at which every feeling of hu 
 manity must for ever revolt, I mean the African slave-trade. At the mo 
 ment when God in his mercy has blessed the Christian world with a univer 
 sal peace, there is reason to fear, that, to the disgrace of the Christian name 
 and character, new efforts are making for the extension of this trade by sub 
 jects and citizens of Christian states, in whose hearts there dwell no senti 
 ments of humanity or of justice, and over whom neither the,fear of God nor 
 the fear of man exercises a control. In the sight of our law, the African 
 slave-trader is a pirate and a felon ; and in the sight of Heaven, an offender 
 far beyond the ordinary depth of human guilt. There is no brighter page of 
 our history, than that which records the measures which have been adopted 
 by the government at an early day, and at different times since, for the sup- 
 
 y 
 
120 
 
 pression of this traffic; and I would call on all the true SODS of New 
 land to co-operate with the laws of man, and the justice of Heaven. 
 be, within the extent of our knowledge or influence, any participation in this 
 traffic, let us pledge ourselves here, upon the rock of Plymouth, to extirpate 
 and destroy it. It is not fit that the land of the Pilgrims should bear the 
 shame longe/. I hear the sound of the hammer, I see the smoke of the fur 
 naces where manacles and fetters are still forged for human limbs. I see the 
 visages of those who by stealth and at midnight labor in this work of hel), 
 foul and dark, as may become the artificers of such instruments of misery 
 and torture. Let that spot be purified, or let it cease to be of New England. 
 Let it be purified, or let it be set aside from the Christian world ; let it be put 
 out of the circle of human sympathies and human regards, and let civilized 
 man henceforth have no communion with it. 
 
 I would invoke those who fill the seats of justice, and all who minister at 
 her altar, that they execute the wholesome and necessary severity of the law. 
 I invoke the ministers of our religion, that they proclaim its denunciation of 
 these crimes, and add the solemn sanctions to the authority of human laws. 
 If the pulpit be silent, whenever, or wherever, there may be a sinner bloody 
 with this guilt, within the hearing of its voice, the pulpit is false to its trust. 
 I call on the fair merchant, who have reaped his harvest upon the seas, that 
 he assist in scourging from those seas the worst pirates which ever infested 
 them. That ocean, which seems to wave with a gentle magnificence to waft 
 the burden of an honest commerce, and to roll along its treasures with a con 
 scious pride ; that ocean, which hardy industry regards, even when the winda 
 have ruffled its surface, as a field of grateful toil, what is it to be the victim 
 of this oppression, when he is brought to its shores, and looks forth upon it, 
 for the first time, from beneath chains, and bleeding with stripes ? What is il 
 to him, but a wide spread prospect of suffering, anguish and death ? Nor do 
 the skies smile longer, nor is the air longer fragrant to him. The sun is cast 
 down from heaven. An inhuman and accursed traffic has cut him off in his 
 manhood, or in his youth, from every enjoyment belonging to his being, and 
 every blessing which his Creator intended for him. 
 
 The Christian communities send forth their emissaries of religion and let 
 ters, who stop, here and there, along the coast of the vast continent of Africa, 
 and with painful and tedious efforts, make some almost imperceptible progress 
 in the communication of knowledge, and in the general improvement of the 
 natives who are immediately about them. Not thus slow and imperceptible 
 is the transmission of the vices and bad passions which the subjects of Chris 
 tian states carry to the land. The slave trade having touched the coast, its 
 influence and its evils spread, like a pestilence, over the whole continent, mak 
 ing savage wars more savage, and more frequent, and adding new and fierce 
 } assions to the contests of barbarians. 
 
 I pursue this topic no further; except again to say, that all Christendom 
 being now blessed with peace, is bound by everything which belongs to its 
 character, and to the character of the present age, to put a stop to this inhu 
 man and disgraceful traffic. 
 
 We are bound not only to maintain the general principles of public liberty, 
 but to support also those existing forms of government, which have so well 
 secured its enjoyment, and so highly promoted the public prosperity. It is 
 now more than thirty years that these states have been united under the 
 Federal constitution, and whatever fortune may await. them hereafter, it is im 
 possible that this period of their history should not be regarded as distinguish- 
 
121 
 
 ed by signal prosperity and success. They must be sanguine, indeed, who 
 can hope for benefit from change. Whatever divisions of the public judg 
 ment may have existed in relation to particular measures of the government, 
 all must agree, one should think, in the opinion, that in its general course it 
 has been eminently productive of public happiness. Its most ardent friends 
 could not well have hoped from it more than it has accomplished ; and those 
 who disbelieved or doubted ought to feel less concern about predictions, which 
 the event has not verified, than pleasure in the good which has been obtained. 
 Whoever shall hereafter write this part of our history, although he may see 
 occasional errors or defect s, will be able to record no great failure in the ends 
 and objects of government. Still less will he be able to record any series of 
 lawless and despotic acts, or any successful usurpation. His page will contain 
 no exhibition of provinces depopulated, of civil authority habitually trampled 
 down by military power, or of a community crushed by the burden of taxa 
 tion. He will speak, rather, of public liberty protected, and public happiness 
 advanced; of increased revenue, and population augmented beyond all ex 
 ample ; of the growth of commerce, manufactures, and the arts ; and of that 
 happy condition, in which the restraint and coercion of government are al 
 most invisible and imperceptible, and its influence felt only in the benefits 
 which it confers. We can entertain no better wish for our country than that 
 this government may be preserved; nor have a clearer duty than to maintain 
 and support it in the full exercise of all its just constitutional powers. 
 
 The cause of science and literature also imposes upon us an important and 
 delicate trust. The wealth and population of the country are now so far ad 
 vanced, as to authorize the expectation of a correct literature, and a well formed 
 taste, as well as respectable progress in the abstruse sciences. The country has 
 risen from a state of colonial dependency ; it has established an independent 
 government, and is now in the undisturbed enjoyment of peace and political 
 security. The elements of knowledge are universally diffused, and the read 
 ing portion of the community large. Let us hope that the present may be 
 an auspicious era of literature. If, almost on the day of their landing, our 
 ancestors founded schools and endowed colleges, what obligations do not rest 
 upon us, living under circumstances so much more favorable both for providing 
 and for using the means of education ? Literature becomes free institutions. 
 It is the graceful ornament of civil liberty, and a happy restraint on the asperi 
 ties, which political controversy sometimes occasions. Just taste is not only an 
 embellishment of society, but it rises almost to the rank of the virtues, and 
 diffuses positive good throughout the whole extent of its influence. There is 
 a connexion between right feeling and right principles, and truth in taste is 
 allied with truth in morality. With nothing in our past history to discourage 
 us, and with something in our present condition and prospects to animate us, 
 let us hope, that as it is our fortune to live in an age when we may behold a 
 wonderful advancement of the country in all its other great interests, we may 
 see also equal progress and success attend the cause of letters. 
 
 Finally, let us not forget the religious character of our origin. Our fathers 
 were brought hither by their high veneration for the Christian religion. They 
 journeyed by the light, and labored in its hope. They sought to incorporate 
 its principles with the elements of their society, and to diffuse its influence 
 through all their institutions, civil, political, or literary. Let us cherish these 
 sentiments, and extend this influence still more widely; in the full conviction, 
 that that is the happiest society, which partakes in the highest degree of thd 
 mild and peaceable spirit of Christianity, 
 
322 .... ., ci .... r ,,_....,. . 
 
 Che hours of this clay are rapidly flying, and this occasion will soon be pass- 
 ^feither we nor our children can expect to behold its return. They are 
 in the distant regions of futurity, they exist only in the all-creating power of 
 God, who shall stand here, a hundred years hence, to trace, through us, their 
 descent from the Pilgrims, and to survey, as we have now surveyed, the pro 
 gress of their country, during the lapse of a century. We would anticipate 
 their concurrence with us in our sentiments of deep regard for our common 
 ancestors. We would anticipate and partake the pleasure with which they 
 will then recount the steps of New England s advancement. On the morn 
 ing of that day, although it will not disturb us in our repose, the voice of ac 
 clamation and gratitude, commencing on the Rock of Plymouth, shall be 
 transmitted through millions of the sons of the Pilgrims, till it lose itself in 
 the murmurs of the Pacific seas. 
 
 We would leave for the consideration of those who shall then occupy our 
 places some proof that we hold the blessings transmitted from our fathers in 
 just estimation ; some proof of our attachment to the cause of good govern 
 ment, and of civil and religious liberty ; some proof of a sincere and ardent 
 desire to promote everything which may enlarge the understandings and im 
 prove the hearts cf men. And when from the long distance of an hundred 
 years, they shall look back upon us, they shall know, at least, that we Dossess- 
 ed affections, which running backward, and warming with gratitude for what 
 our ancestors have done for our happiness, run forward also to our posterity, 
 and meet them with cordial salutation, ere yet they have arrived on the shore 
 of being. 
 
 Advance, then, ye future generations ! We would hail you, as you rise in 
 your long succession, to fill the places which we now fill, and to taste the bless 
 ings of existence, where we are passing, and soon shall have passed, our own 
 human duration. We bid you welcome to this pleasant land of the fathers 
 We bid you welcome to the healthful skies and the verdant fields of New 
 England. We greet your accession to the great inheritance which we have 
 enjoyed. We welcome you to the blessings of good government, and religious 
 liberty. We welcome you to the treasures of science, and the delights of 
 learning. We welcome you to the transcendent sweets of domestic life, to the 
 happiness of kindred, and parents, and children. We welcome you to the 
 immeasurable blessings of rational existence, the immortal hope of Christianity 
 and the light of eveilasting truth ! 
 
THE BUNKER HILL MONUMENT. 
 
 DELIVERED AT THE CORNER STONE OF BUNKER HILL MON 
 UMENT, JUNE IT, 1825. 
 
 This uncounted multitude before me and around me proves the feeling 
 which the cause has excited. These thousands of human faces, glowing with 
 sympathy and joy, and from the impulses of a common gratitude turned rev 
 erently to heaven in this spacious temple of the firmajnent, proclaim that the 
 day, the place, and the purpose of our assembling have made a deep impres 
 sion on our hearts. 
 
 If, indeed, there be any thing in local association fit to affect the mind of 
 man, we need not strive to repress the emotions which agitate us here. We 
 are among the sepulchres of our fathers. We are on ground, distinguished by 
 their valor, their constancy, and the shedding of their blood. We are here, 
 not to fix an uncertain date in our annals, nor so draw into notice an obscure 
 and unknown spot. If our humble purpose had never been conceived, if we 
 ourselves had never been born, the iVth of June, 1775, would have been a 
 day on which all subsequent history would have poured its light, and the emi 
 nence where we stand a point of attraction to the eyes of successive genera 
 tions. But we are Americans. We live in what may be called the early age 
 of this great continent ; and we know that our posterity, through all time, are 
 here to enjoy and suffer the allotments of humanity. We see before us a 
 probable train of great events ; we know that our own fortunes have been hap 
 pily cast; and it is natural, therefore, that we should be moved by the con 
 templation of occurrences which have guided our destiny before ,many of us 
 were born, and settled the condition in which we should pass that portion of 
 our existence which God allows to men on earth. 
 
 We do not read even of the discovery of this continent, without feeling 
 Something of a personal interest in the event; without being reminded how 
 much it has affected our own fortunes and our existence. It would be still 
 more unnatural for us, therefore, than for others, to contemplate with unaffec 
 ted minds that interesting, I may say that most touching and pathetic scene 
 when the great discoverer of America stood on the deck of his shattered 
 bark, the shades of night falling on the sea, yet no man sleeping ; tossed on 
 the billows of an unknown ocean, yet the stronger billows of alternate hope 
 and despair tossing his own troubled thoughts; extending forward his har 
 assed frame, straining westward his anxious and eager eyes, till Heaven at last 
 granted him a moment of rapture and ecstacy, in blessing his vision with tha 
 sight of the unknown world, . 
 
124 
 
 Nearer to our times, more closely connected with our fates, and therefore 
 still more interesting to our feelings and affections, is the settlement of our 
 own country by colonists from England. We cherish every memorial of these 
 worthy ancestors ; we celebrate their patience and fortitude ; we admire their 
 daring enterprise ; we teach our children to venerate their piety ; and we are 
 justly proud of being descended from men who have set the world an exam 
 ple of founding civil institutions on the great and united principles of human 
 freedom and human knowledge. To us, their children, the story of their la 
 bors and sufferings can never be without its interest. We shall not stand un 
 moved on the shore of Plymouth, while the sea continues to wash it ; nor will 
 our brethren in another early and ancient Colony forget the place of its first 
 establishment, till their river shall cease to flow by it. No vigor of youth, no 
 maturity of manhood, will lead the nation to forget the spots where its infan 
 cy was cradled and defended. 
 
 But the great event in tne history of the continent, which we are now met 
 here to commemorate, that prodigy of modern times, at once the wonder and 
 the blessing of the world, is the American Revolution. In a day of extraor 
 dinary prosperity and happiness, of high national honor, distinction, and pow 
 er, we are brought together, in this place, by our love of country, by our ad 
 miration of exalted character, by our gratitude for signal services and patri 
 otic devotion. 
 
 The Society whose organ I am was formed for the purpose of rearing some 
 honorable and durable monument to the memory of the early friends of Am 
 erican Independence. They have thought, that for this object no time could 
 be more propitious than the present prosperous and peaceful period ; that no 
 place could claim preference over this memorable spot ; and that no day could 
 be more auspicious to the undertaking, than the anniversary of the battle 
 which was here fought. The foundation of that monument we have DOW 
 laid. With solemnities suited to the occasion, with prayers to Almighty God 
 for his blessing, and in the midst of this cloud of witnesses, we have begun 
 the work. We trust it will be prosecuted, and that, springing from a broad 
 foundation, rising high in massive solidity and unadorned grandeur, it may 
 remain as long as Heaven permits the work of man to last, a fit emblem, both 
 of the events in memory of which it is raised, and of the gratitude of those 
 \vho have reared it. 
 
 We know, indeed, that the record of illustrious actions is most safely depo 
 sited in the universal remembrance of mankind. We know, that if we could 
 cause this structure to ascend, not only till it reached the skies, but till it 
 pierced them, its broad surfaces could still contain but part of that which, in 
 an age of knowledge, hath already been spread over the earth, and which his 
 tory charges itself with making known to all future times. We know that 
 no inscription on entablatures less broad than the earth itself can carry infor 
 mation of the events we commemorate where it had not already gone ; and 
 that no structure, which shall not outlive the duration of letters and knowl 
 edge among men, can prolong the memorial. But our object is, by this edi 
 fice, to show our own deep sense of the value and importance of the achieve 
 ments of our ancestors ; and, by presenting this work of gratitude to the eye, 
 to keep alive similar sentiments, and to foster a constant regard for the princi 
 ples of the Revolution. Human beings are composed, not of reason only, but 
 of imagination also, and sentiment; and that is neither wasted nor misapplied 
 \which is appropriated to the purpose of giving right direction to sentiments, 
 \^id opening proper springs of feeling in the heart. Let it not be supposed 
 
125 
 
 that our object is to perpetuate national hostility, or even to cherish a mere \ 
 military spirit. It is higher, purer, nobler. We consecrate our work to the 
 spirit of national independence, and we Avish that the light of peace may rest 
 upon it for ever. We rear a memorial of -our conviction of that unmeasured 
 benefit which has been conferred on our own land, and of the happy influen 
 ces which have been produced, by the same events, on the general interests 
 of mankind. We come, as Americans, to mark a spot which must forever 
 be dear to us and our posterity. We wish that whosoever, in all coining 
 time, sli,all turn his eye hither, may behold that the place is not undistin 
 guished where the first great battle of the Revolution was fought. We wish 
 that this structure may proclaim the magnitude and importance of that event 
 to every class and every age. We wish that infancy may learn the purpose 
 of its erection from maternal lips, and that weary and withered age may be 
 hold it, and be solaced by the recollections which it suggests. We wish that 
 labor may look up here, and be proud, in the midst of its toil. We wish that 
 in those days of disaster, which, as they come upon all nations, must be ex 
 pected to come upon us also, desponding patriotism may turn its eyes hither- \ 
 ward, and be assured that the foundations of our national power are still strong. 
 We wish that this column, rising toward heaven among the pointed spires of 
 so many temples dedicated to God, may contribute also to produce, in all 
 minds, a pious feeling of dependence and gratitude. We wish, finally, that 
 the last object to the sight of him who leaves his native shore, and the first / 
 to gladden his who revisits it, may be something which shall remind him of / 
 the liberty and the glory of his country. Let it rise ! let it rise, till it meet / 
 the sun in his coming ; let the earliest light of the morning gild it, and part--/ 
 ing day linger and play on its summit. 
 
 We live in a most extraordinary age. Events so various and so important 
 that they might crowd and distinguish centuries, are, in our times, compressed 
 within the compass of a single life. When has it happened that history has 
 had so much to record, in the same term of years, as since the 1 7th of June, 
 1775? Our own Revolution, which, under other circumstances, might itself 
 have been expected to occasion a war of half a century, has been achieved ; 
 twenty-four sovereign and independent States erected ; and a general govern 
 ment established over them, so safe, so wise, so free, so practical, that we might 
 well wonder its establishment should have been accomplished so soon, were it 
 not for greater the wonder that it should have been established at all. Two 
 or three millions of people have been augmented to twelve, the great forests 
 of the West prostrated beneath the arm of successful industry, and the dwel 
 lers on the banks of the Ohio and the Mississippi become the fellow-citizens 
 and neighbors of those who cultivate the hills of New England. We have 
 a commerce, that leaves no sea unexplored ; navies, which take no law from 
 superior force ; revenues, adequate to all the exigencies of government, almost 
 without taxation ; and peace with all nations, founded on equal rights and 
 mutual respect. 
 
 Europe, within the same period has been agitated by a mighty revolution, 
 which, while it has been felt in the individual condition and happiness of al 
 most every . man, has shaken to the centre her political fabric, and dashed 
 against one another, thrones which had stood tranquil for ages. On this, our 
 continent, our own example has been followed, and colonies have sprung up 
 to be nations. Unaccustomed sounds of liberty and free government have 
 reached us from beyond the track of the sun ; and at this moment the domin 
 ion of European power in this continent, from the place where we stand to 
 the south pole, is annihilated for ever. 
 
126 
 
 In the mean time, botli in Europe and America, such lias been the general 
 progress of knowledge, such the improvement in legislation, in commerce, in 
 the arts, in letters, and, above all, in liberal ideas and the general spirit of the 
 age, that the whole world seems changed. 
 
 Yet, notwithstanding that this is but a faint abstract of the things which 
 have happened since the day of the battle of Bunker Hill, we are but fifty 
 years removed from it ; and we now stand here to enjoy all the blessings of 
 our own condition, and to look abroad on the brightened prospects of the 
 world, while we still have among us some of those who were active agents in 
 the scenes of 1775, and who are now here, from every quarter of New Eng 
 land, to visit once more, and under circumstances so affecting, I had almost 
 said so overwhelming, this renowned theatre of their courage and patri 
 otism. 
 
 VENERABLE MEN ! you have come down to us from a former generation. 
 Heaven has bounteously lengthened out your lives, that you might behold this 
 joyous day. You are now where you stood fifty years ago, this very hour, 
 with your brothers and your neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, in the strife for 
 your country. Behold how altered ! The same heavens are indeed over your 
 heads ; the same ocean rolls at your feet ; but all else how changed ! You 
 hear now no roar of hostile cannon, you see no mixed volumes of smoke and 
 flame rising from burning Charlestown. The ground strewed with the dead 
 and the dying ; the impetuous charge ; the steady and successful repulse ; the 
 loud call to repeated assault ; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated 
 resistance; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to 
 whatever of terra." there may be in war and death ; all these you have wit 
 nessed, but you witness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yon 
 der metropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and 
 children and countrymen in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable 
 emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight 
 of its whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you with a 
 universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position appropriate 
 ly lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are 
 not means of annoyance to you, but your country s own means of distinction 
 and defence. All is peace; and God has granted you this sight of your 
 country s happiness, ere you slumber in the grave. He has allowed you to 
 behold and to partake the reward of your patriotic toils ; and he has allowed 
 us, your sons and countrymen, to meet you here, and in the name of the pres 
 ent generation, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty, to 
 thank you! 
 
 But, alas ! you are not all here ! Time and the sword have thinned your 
 ranks. Prescott, Putnam, Stark, Brooks, Read, Pomeroy, Bridge ! our eyes 
 seek for you in vain amid this broken band. You are gathered to your fath 
 ers, and live only to your country in her grateful remembrance and your own 
 bright example. But let us not too much grieve, that you have met the com 
 mon fate of men. You lived at least long enough to know that your work 
 had been nobly and successfully accomplished. You lived to see your coun 
 try s independence established, and to sheathe your swords from war. On the 
 light of Liberty you saw arise the light of Peace, like 
 
 "another morn, 
 Risen on mid-noon." 
 
 and the sky on which, you closed your eyes was cloudless. 
 
127 
 
 But ah ! Him ! the first great martyr in this great cause ! Him ! the pre- 
 mature victim of his own self-devoting heart ! Him ! the head of our civil 
 councils, and the destined leader of our military bands, whom nothing brought 
 hither but the unquenchable fire of his oVn spirit ! Him ! cut oft by Provi 
 dence in the hour of overwhelming anxiety and thick gloom ; falling ere he 
 saw the star of his country rise ; pouring out his generous blood, like water, 
 before lie knew whether it would fertilize a land of freedom or of bondage ! 
 how shall I struggle with the emotions that stifle the utterance of thy name ? 
 Our poor work may perish ; but thine shall endure ! This monument may 
 moulder away ; the solid ground it rests upon, may sink down to a level with 
 the sea ; but thy memory" shall not fail ! Wheresoever among men a heart 
 shall be found that beats to the transport of patriotism and liberty, its aspira 
 tions shall be to claim kindred with thy spirit ! 
 
 But the scene amidst which we stand does not permit us to confine our 
 thoughts or our sympathies to those fearless spirits who hazarded or lost their 
 lives on this consecrated spot. We have the happiness to rejoice here in the 
 presence of a most worthy representation of the survivors of the whole Revo 
 lutionary army. 
 
 VETERANS ! you are the remnant of many a well-fought field. You bring 
 with you marks of honor from Trenton and Monmouth, from Yorktown, 
 Cainden, Bennington, and Saratoga. VETERANS OF HALF A CENTURY ! when 
 in your youthful days you put everything at hazard in your country s cause, 
 good as that cause was, and sanguine as youth is, still your fondest hopes did 
 not stretch onward to an hour like this ! At a period to which you could not 
 reasonably have expected to arrive, at a moment of national prosperity such 
 as you could never have foreseen, you are now met here to enjoy the fellow 
 ship of old soldiers, and to receive the overflowing of a universal grati 
 tude. 
 
 But your agitated countenances and your heaving breasts inform me that 
 even this is not an unmixed joy. I perceive that a tumult of contending 
 feelings rushes upon you. The images of the dead, as well as the persons of 
 the living, present themselves before you. The scene overwhelms you, and 1 
 turn from it. May the Father of all mercies smile upon your declining years, 
 and bless them ! And when you shall here have exchanged your embraces, 
 when you shall once more have pressed the hands which have been so often 
 extended to give succor in adversity, or grasped in the exultation of victory, 
 then look abroad upon this lovely land which your young valor defended,* and 
 mark the happiness with which it is filled ; yea, look abroad upon the whole 
 earth, and see what a name you have contributed to give to your country, and 
 what a praise you have added to freedom, and then rejoice in the sympathy 
 and gratitude which beam upon your last days from the improved condition 
 of mankind ! 
 
 The occasion does not require of me any particular account of the battle 
 of the 17th of June, 1775, nor any detailed narrative of the events which 
 immediately preceded it. These are familiarly known to all. In the pro 
 gress of the great and interesting controversy, Massachusetts and the town of 
 Boston had become early and marked objects of the displeasure of the British 
 Parliament. This had been manifested in the act for altering the government 
 of the Province, and in that for shutting up the port of Boston. Nothing 
 sheds more honor on our early history, and nothing better shows how little 
 the feelings and sentiments of the Colonies were known or regarded in Eng 
 land, than the impression which these measures everywhere produced in Amer- 
 
128 
 
 ita. It had been anticipated, that while the Colonies in general would be 
 terrified by the severity of the punishment inflicted on Massachusetts, the oth 
 er seaports would be governed by a mere spirit of gain ; and that, as Boston 
 was now cut off from all commerce, the unexpected advantage which this 
 blow on her was calculated to confer on other towns would be greedily enjoy 
 ed. How miserably such reasoners deceived themselves ! How little they 
 knew of the depth, and the strength, and the intenseness of that feeling of resis 
 tance to illegal acts of power, which possessed the whole American people ! 
 Everywhere the unworthy boon was rejected with scorn. The fortunate occa 
 sion was seized, everywhere, to show to the whole world that the Colonies 
 were swayed by no local interest, no partial interest, no selfish interest. The 
 the temptation to profit by the punishment of Boston was strongest to our 
 neighbors of Salem. Yet Salein was precisely the place where this misera 
 ble proffer was spurned, in a tone of the most lofty self-respect and the most 
 indignant patriotism. " We are deeply afiected," said its inhabitants, " with 
 the sense of our public calamities ; but the miseries that are now rapidly has 
 tening on our brethren in the capital of the Province greatly excite our com 
 miseration. By shutting up the port of Boston, some imagine that the course 
 of trade might be turned hither and to our benefit ; but we must be dead to 
 every idea of justice, lost to all feelings of humanity, could we indulge a 
 thought to seize on wealth and raise our fortunes on the ruin of our suffering 
 neighbors." These noble sentiments were not confined to our immediate vi 
 cinity. In that day of general affection and brotherhood, the blow given to 
 Boston smote on every patriotic heart from one end of the country to the 
 other. Virginia and the Carolinas, as well as Connecticut and New Hamp 
 shire, felt and proclaimed the cause to be their own. The Continental Con 
 gress, then holding its first session in Philadelphia, expressed its sympathy for 
 the suffering inhabitants of Boston, and addresses were received from all quar 
 ters, assuring them that the cause was a common one, and should be met by 
 common efforts and common sacrifices. The Congress of Massachusetts res 
 ponded to these assurances; and in an address to the Congress at Philadel 
 phia, bearing the official signature, perhaps among the last, of the immortal 
 Warren, notwithstanding the severity of its suffering and the magnitude of 
 the dangers which threatened it, it was declared, that this Colony " is ready, 
 at all times, to spend and be spent in the cause of America." 
 
 But the hour drew nigh which was to put professions to the proof, and to 
 determine whether the authors of these mutual pledges were ready to seal 
 them in blood. The tidings of Lexington and Concord had no sooner spread, 
 than it was universally felt that the time was at last come for action. A spirit 
 pervaded all ranks, not transient, not boisterous, but deep, solemn, deter 
 mined, 
 
 " totamque infusa per artus 
 Mens agitat molem, et magno se corpore miscet." 
 
 War, on their ow r n soil and at their own doors, was, indeed, a strange work to 
 the yeomanry of New England ; but their consciences were convinced of its 
 necessity, their country called them to it, and they did not withhold them 
 selves from the perilous trial. The ordinary occupations of life were aband 
 oned ; tKe plough was staid in the unfinished furrow ; wives gave up their 
 husbands, and mothers gave up their sons, to the battles of a civil war. Death 
 might come, in honor, on the field ; it might come, in disgrace, on the scaf 
 fold. For either and for both they were prepared. The sentiment of Quincy 
 
129 
 
 was full in their hearts. " Blandishments," said that distinguished son of 
 genius and patriotism, " will not fascinate us, nor will threats of a halter in 
 timidate ; for, under God, we are determined that, wheresoever, whensoever, or 
 howsoever we shall be called to make our exit, we will die free men." 
 
 The 17th of June saw the four New England Colonies standing here, side 
 by side, to triumph or to fall together; and there was with them from that 
 moment to the end of the war, what I hope will remain with them for ever, 
 one cause, one country, one heart. 
 
 The battle of Bunker Hill was attended with the most important effects 
 beyond its immediate results as a military engagement. It created at once a 
 state of open, public war. There could now be no longer a question of pro 
 ceeding against individuals, as guilty of treason or rebellion. That fearful 
 crisis was past The appeal lay to the sword, and the only question was, 
 whether the spirit and the resources of the people would hold out, till the ob 
 ject should be accomplished. Nor were its general consequences confined to 
 our own country. The previous proceedings of the Colonies, their appeals, 
 resolutions, and addresses, had made their cause known in Europe. Without 
 boasting, we may say, that in no age or country has the public cause been 
 maintained with more force of argument, more power of illustration, or more 
 of that persuasion which excited feeling and elevated principle can alone bes 
 tow, than the Revolutionary state papers exhibit. These papers will for ever 
 deserve to be studied, not only for the spirit which they breathe, but for the 
 ability with which they were written. 
 
 To this able vindication of their cause, the Colonies had now added a 
 practical and severe proof of their own true devotion to it, and given evidence 
 also of the power which they could bring to its support. All now saw, that 
 if America fell, she would not fall without a struggle. Men felt sympathy 
 and regard, as well as surprise, when they beheld these infant states, remote, 
 unknown, unaided, encounter the power of England, and in the first conside 
 rable battle, leave more of their enemies dead on the field, in proportion to 
 the number of combatants, than had been recently known to fall in the wars 
 of Europe. 
 
 Information of these events, circulating throughout the world, at length 
 reached the ears of one who now hears me. He has not forgotton the emo 
 tion which the fame of Bunker Hill, and the name of Warren, excited in his 
 youthful breast. 
 
 Sir, we are assembled to commemorate the establishment of great public 
 principles of liberty, and to do honor to the distinguished dead. The occa 
 sion is too severe for eulogy of the living. But, Sir, your interesting i elation 
 to this country, the peculiar circumstances which surround you and surround 
 us, call on me to express the happiness which we derive from your presence 
 and aid in this solemn commemoration. 
 
 Fortunate, fortunate man ! with what measure of devotion will you not 
 than k God for the circumstances of your extraordinary life ? You are con 
 nected with both hemispheres and with two generations. Heaven saw fit to 
 ordain, that the electric spark of liberty should be conducted, through you, 
 from the New World to the Old ; and we, who are now here to perform this 
 duty of patriotism, have all of us long ago received it in charge from our 
 fathers to cherish your name and your virtues. You will account it an in 
 stance of your good fortune, Sir, that you crossed the seas to visit us at a time 
 which enables you to be present at this solemnity. You now behold the field, 
 the renown of which reached you in the heart of France, and caused a thrill 
 
130 
 
 in your ardent bosom. You see the lines of the little redoubt thrown tip by 
 the incredible diligence of Prescott ; defended, to the last extremity, by his 
 lion-hearted valor ; and within which the corner-stone of our monument has 
 now taken its position. You see where Warren fell, and where Parker, Gard 
 ner, McCleary, Moore, and other early patriots, fell with him. Those who 
 survived that day, and whose lives have been prelonged to the present hour, 
 are now around you. Some of them you have known in the trying scenes 
 of the war. Behold ! they now stretch forth their feeble arms to embrace you. 
 Behold ! they raise their trembling voices to invoke the blessing of God on 
 you and yours for ever. 
 
 Sir, you have assisted us in laying the foundation of this structure. You 
 have heard us rehearse, with our feeble commendation, the names of departed, 
 patriots. Monuments and eulogy belong to the dead. We give them this 
 day to Warren and his associates. On other occasions they have been given 
 to your more immediate companions in arms, to Washington, to Greene, to 
 Gates, to Sullivan, and to Lincoln. We have become reluctant to grant these, 
 our highest and last honors, further. We would gladly hold them yet back 
 from the little remnant of that immortal band. Serus in coelum redeas. Il 
 lustrious as are your merits, yet far, 0, very far distant be the day, when any 
 inscription shall bear your name, or any tongue pronounce its eulogy ! 
 
 The leading reflection to which this occasion seems to invite us, respects the 
 great changes which have happened in the fifty years since the battle of Bun 
 ker Hill was fought. And it peculiarly marks the character of the present 
 age, that, in looking at these changes, and in estimating their effect on our 
 condition, w r e are obliged to consider, not what has been done in our own 
 eountry only, but in othere also. In these interesting times, while nations are 
 making separate and individual advances in improvement, they make, too, a 
 common progress ; like vessels on a common tide, propelled by the gales at 
 different rates, according to their several structure and management, but all 
 moved forward by one mighty current, strong enough to bear onward what 
 ever does not sink beneath it. 
 
 A chief distinction of the present day is a community of opinions and 
 knowledge amongst men in different nations, existing in a degree heretofore 
 unknown. Knowledge has, in our time, triumphed, and is triumphing, over 
 distance, over difference of languages, over diversity of habits, over prejudice, 
 and over bigotry. The civilized and Christian world is fast learning the great 
 lesson, that difference of nation does not imply necessary hostility, and that all 
 contact need not be war. The whole world is becoming a common field for 
 intellect to act in. Energy of mind, genius, power, wheresoever it exists may 
 speak out in any tongue, and the world will hear it. A great chord of senti 
 ment and feeling runs through two continents, and vibrates over both. Every 
 breeze wafts intelligence from country to country ; every wave rolls it ; all give 
 it forth, and all in turn receive it. There is a vast commerce of ideas ; there 
 are marts and exchanges for intellectual discoveries, and a wonderful fellow 
 ship of those individual intelligences which make up the mind and opinion 
 of the age. Mind is the great lever of all things ; human thought is the 
 process by which human ends are ultimately answered ; and the diffusion of 
 knowledge, so astonishing in the last half century, has rendered innumerable 
 minds, variously gifted by nature, competent to be the competitors or fellow- 
 workers on the theatre of intellectual operation. 
 
 From these causes important improvements have taken place in the perso 
 nal condition of individuals. Generally speaking, mankind are not only bet- 
 
131 
 
 ter fed and better clothed, but they are able also to enjoy more leisure ; they 
 possess more refinement and more self-respect. A superior tone of education, 
 manners, and habits prevails. This remark, most true in its application to our 
 own country, is also partly true when applied elsewhere. It is proved by the 
 vastly augmented consumption of those articles of manufacture and of com 
 merce which contribute to the comforts and the decencies of life ; an augmen 
 tation which has far outrun the progress of population. And while the un 
 exampled and almost incredible use of machinery would seem to supply the 
 place of labor, labor still finds its occupation and its reward ; so wisely has 
 Providence adjusted men s wants and desires to their condition and their 
 capacity. 
 
 Any adequate survey, however, of the progress made during the last half- 
 century in the polite and the mechanic arts, in machinery and manufactures, 
 in commerce and agriculture, in letters and in science, would require volumes. 
 I must abstain wholly from these subjects, and turn for a moment to the con 
 templation of what has been done on the great question of politics and gov 
 ernment. This is the master topic of the age; and during the whole fifty 
 years it has intensely occupied the thoughts of men. The nature of civil 
 government, its ends and uses, have been canvassed and investigated ; ancient 
 opinions attacked and defended ; new ideas recommended and resisted, by 
 whatever power the mind of man could bring to the controversy. From the 
 closet and the public halls the debate has been transferred to the field ; and 
 the world has been shaken by wars of unexampled magnitude, and the great 
 est variety of fortune. A day of peace has at length succeeded ; and now 
 that the strife has subsided, and the smoke cleared away, we may begin to see 
 what has actually been done, permanently changing the state and condition 
 of human society. And, without dwelling on particular circumstances, it is 
 most apparent, that, from the before-mentioned causes of augmented knowledge 
 and improved individual condition, a real, substantial, and important change 
 has taken place, and is taking place, highly favorable, on the whole, to human 
 liberty and human happiness. 
 
 The great wheel of political revolution began to move in America. Here 
 its rotation was guarded, regular, and safe. Transferred to the other conti 
 nent, from unfortunate but natural causes, it received an irregular and violent 
 impulse ; it whirled along with a fearful celerity ; till at length, like the char 
 iot-wheels in the races of antiquity, it took fire from the rapidity of its own 
 motion, and blazed onward, spreading conflagration and terror around. 
 
 We learn from the result of this experiment, how fortunate was our own 
 condition, and how admirably the character of our people was calculated for 
 setting the great example of popular governments. The possession of power 
 did not turn the heads of the American people, for they had long been in 
 the habit of exercising a great degree of self-control. Although the para 
 mount authority of the parent state existed over them, yet a large field of le 
 gislation had always been open to our Colonial assemblies. They were ac 
 customed to representative bodies and the forms of free government ; they 
 understood the doctrine of the division of power among different branches, 
 and the necessity of checks on each. The character of our countrymen, 
 moreover, was sober, moral and religious ; and there was little in the change 
 to shock their feelings of justice and humanity, or even to disturb an honest 
 prejudice. We had no domestic throne to overturn, no privileged orders to 
 cast down, no violent changes of property to encounter. In the American 
 Revolution, no man sought or \vished for more than to defend and enjoy his 
 
132 
 
 own. None hoped for plunder or for spoil. Rapacity was unknown to it ; 
 the axe was not among the instruments of its accomplishment; and we all 
 know that it could not have lived a single day under any well-founded impu 
 tation of possessing a tendency adverse to the Christian religion. 
 
 It need not surprise us, that, under circumstances less auspicious, political 
 revolutions elsewhere, even when well intended, have terminated differently. 
 It is, indeed, a great achievement; it is the master-work of the world, to es 
 tablish governments entirely popular on lasting foundations ; nor is it easy, in 
 deed, to introduce the popular principle at all mto governments to which it 
 has been altogether a stranger. It cannot be doubted, however, that Europe 
 has come out of the contest, in which she has been so long engaged, with 
 greatly superior knowledge, and, in many respects, in a highly improved con 
 dition. Whatever benefit has been acquired, is likely to be retained, for it 
 consists mainly in the acquisition of more enlightened ideas. And although 
 kingdoms and provinces may be wrested from the hands that hold them, in 
 the same manner they were obtained ; although ordinary and vulgar power 
 may, in human affairs, be lost as it has been won ; yet it is the glorious pre 
 rogative of the empire of knowledge, that what it gains it never loses. On 
 the contrary, it increases by the multiple of its own power ; all its ends be 
 come means ; all its attainments, helps to new conquests. Its whole abundant 
 harvest is but so much seed wheat, and nothing has limited, and nothing can 
 limit, the amount of ultimate product. 
 
 Under the influence of this rapidly increasing knowledge, the people have 
 begun, in all forms of government, to think, and to reason, on affairs of state. 
 Regarding government as an institution for the public good, they demand a 
 knowledge of its operations, and a participation in its exercise. A call for the 
 representative system, wherever it is not enjoyed, and where there is already 
 intelligence enough to estimate its value, is perseveringly made. Where men 
 may speak out, they demand it ; where the bayonet is at their throats, they 
 pray for it. 
 
 When Louis the Fourteenth said, " I am the state," he expressed the essence 
 of the doctrine of unlimited power. By the rules of that system, the people 
 are disconnected from the state; they are its subjects; it is their lord. These 
 ideas, founded in the love of power, and long supported by the excess and the 
 abuse of it, are yielding, in our age, to other opinions; and the civilized world 
 seems at last to be proceeding to the conviction of that fundamental and man 
 ifest truth, that the powers of government are but a trust, and that they can 
 not be lawfully exercised but for the good of the community. As knowledge 
 is more and more extended, this conviction becomes more and more geneial. 
 Knowledge, in truth, is the great sun in the firmament. Life and power are 
 scattered with all its beams. The prayer of the Grecian champion, when en 
 veloped in unnatural clouds and darkness, is the appropriate political supplica 
 tion for the people of every country not yet blessed with free institutions : 
 
 " Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore, 
 Give me TO SEE, and Ajax asks no more." 
 
 We may hope that the growing influence of enlightened sentiment will 
 promote the permanent peace of the world. Wars to maintain family alliances, 
 to uphold or to cast down dynasties, and to regulate successions to thrones, 
 which have occupied so much room in the history of modern times, if not less 
 likely to happen at all, will be less likely to become general, and involve many 
 
133 
 
 nations, as the great principle shall be more and more established, that the in 
 terest of the world is peace, and its first great statute, that every nation poi- 
 sesses the power of establishing a government for itself. But public opinion 
 has attained also an influence over government which do not admit the popu 
 lar principle into their organization. A necessary respect for the judgment 
 of the world, operates, in some measure, as a control over the most unlimited 
 forms of authority. It is owing, perhaps, to this truth, that the interesting 
 struggle of the Greeks has been suffered to go on so long, without a direct in 
 terference, either to wrest that country from its present masters, or to execute 
 the system of pacification by force, and, with united strength, lay the neck of 
 Christian and civilized Greek at the foot of the barbarian Turk, Let us thank 
 God that we live in an age when something has influence besides the bayonet, 
 and when the sternest authority does not venture to encounter the scorching 
 power of public reproach. Any attempt of the kind I have mentioned should 
 be met by one universal burst of indignation ; the air of the civilized world 
 ought to be made too warm to be comfortably breathed by any one who 
 would hazard it. 
 
 It is, indeed, a touching reflection, that, while, in the fulness of our coun 
 try s happiness, we rear this monument to her honor, we look for instruction 
 in our undertaking to a country which is now in fearful contest, not for works 
 of art or memorials of glory, but for her own existence. Let her be assured, 
 that she is not forgotten in the world ; that her efforts are applauded, and that 
 constant prayers ascend for her success. And let us cherish a confident hope 
 for her final triumph. If the true spark of religious and civil liberty be kin 
 dled, it will burn. Human agency cannot extinguish it. Like the earth s 
 central fire, it maybe smothered for a time; the ocean may overwhelm it; 
 mountains may press it down ; but its inherent and unconquerable force will 
 heave both the ocean and the land, and at some time or other, in some place 
 or other, the volcano will break out and flame up to heaven. 
 
 Among the great events of the half-century, we must reckon, certainly, the 
 revolution of South America; and we are not likely to overrate the import 
 ance of that revolution, either to the people of the country itself or to the 
 rest of the world. The late Spanish colonies, now independent states, under 
 circumstances less favorable, doubtless, than attended our own revolution, have 
 yet successfully commenced their national existence. They have accomplished 
 the great object of establishing their independence ; they are known and ac 
 knowledged in the world ; and although in regard to their systems of govern 
 ment, their sentiments on religious toleration, and their provisions for public 
 instruction, they may yet have much to learn, it must be admitted that they 
 have risen to the condition of settled and established states more rapidly than 
 could have been reasonably anticipated. They already furnish an exhilarating 
 example of the difference between free governments, and despotic misrule. 
 Their commerce, at this moment, creates a new activity in all the great marts 
 of the world. They show themselves able, by an exchange of commodities, 
 to bear a useful part in the intercourse of nations. 
 
 A new spirit of enterprise and industry begins to prevail ; all the great in 
 terests of society receive a salutary impulse; and the progress of information 
 not only testifies to an improved condition, but itself constitutes the highest 
 and most essential improvement. 
 
 When the battle of Bunker Hill was fought, the existence of South Amer 
 ica was scarcely felt in the civilized world. The thirteen little Colonies of 
 Korth America habitually called themselves the " Continent." Borne down 
 
134 
 
 by colonial subjugation, monopoly, and bigotry, these vast regions of the 
 South were hardly visible above the horizon. But in our day there has been, 
 as it were, a new creation. The southern hemisphere emerges from the sea. 
 Its lofty mountains begin to lift themselves into the light of heaven ; its broad 
 and fertile plains stretch out, in beauty, to the eye of civilized man, and at 
 the mighty bidding of the voice of political liberty, the waters of darkness 
 retire. 
 
 And, now, let us indulge an honest exultation in the conviction of the 
 benefit which the example of our country has produced, and is likely to pro 
 duce, on human freedom and human happiness. Let us endeavor to compre 
 hend in all its magnitude, and to feel in all its importance, the part assigned 
 to us in the great drama of human affairs. We are placed at the head of 
 the system of representative and popular governments. Thus far our exam 
 ple shows that such governments are compatible, not only with respectability 
 and power, but with repose, with peace, with security of personal rights, with 
 good laws, and a just administration. 
 
 We are not . propagandists. Wherever other systems are preferred, either 
 as being thought better in themselves, or as better suited to existing condition, 
 we leave the preference to be enjoyed. Our history hitherto proves, however, 
 that the popular form is practicable, and that with wisdom and knowledge 
 men may govern themselves ; and the duty incumbent on us is, to preserve 
 the consistency of this cheering example, and take care that nothing may 
 weaken its authority with the world, If, in our case, the representative sys 
 tem ultimately fail, popular governments must be pronounced impossible. No 
 combination of circumstances more favorable to the experiment can ever be 
 expected to occur. The last hopes of mankind, therefore, rest with us; and 
 if it should be proclaimed, that our example had become an argument 
 against the experiment, the knell of popular liberty would be sounded through 
 out the earth. 
 
 These are excitements to duty; but they are not suggestions of doubt. 
 Our history and our condition, all that is gone before us, and all that sur 
 rounds us, authorize the belief, that popular governments, though subject to 
 occasional variations, in form perhaps not always for the better, may yet, in 
 their general character, be as durable and permanent as other systems. We 
 know, indeed, that in our country any other is impossible. The principle 
 of free governments adheres to the American soil. It is bedded in it, immo 
 vable as its mountains. 
 
 Ami let the sacred obligations which have devolved on this generation, and 
 on us, sink deep into our hearts. Those who established our liberty and our 
 government are daily dropping from among us. The great trust now des-r 
 cends to new hands. Let us apply ourselves to that which is presented to us, 
 as our appropriate object. We can win no laurels in a war for independence. 
 Earlier and worthier hands have gathered them all. Nor are there places for 
 us by the side of Solon, and Alfred, and other founders of states. Our fath 
 ers have filled them. But there remains to us a great duty of defence and 
 
 preservation ; and there is opened to us, also, a noble pursuit, to which the 
 spkiLofJhe times strongly invites us.^Qiir_^roper business is improvement. 
 Let oiirTyfl belfentge^ot improvement lja3^1oi peace, let us advance 
 
 foe, arts of peace and the works of peace ./Let us develope.the resources of 
 "our land, call forthTts powers, "build uplts institutions, promote, all its great 
 interests, and see whether we also, in_ourjday and generation, may not perform 
 Something worthy to be remembered. Let us cultivate a true spirit of union 
 
135 
 
 and harmony. In pursuing the great objects which our condition points uu*i 
 to us, let us act under a settled conviction, and an habitual feeling, that these 
 twenty-four States are_cme country. Let our conceptions be enlarged to the 
 circle of our duties. Let us extend our ideas over the whole of the vast neld 
 in which we are called to act. Let our object be, OUR COUNTRY, OUR WHOLE 
 COUNTRY, AND NOTHING BUT OUR COUNTRY. And, by the blessing of_God^ 
 may that country itself become a vast and splendid monument, not of op 
 pression and terror, but of Wisdom, of Peace, and of Liberty, upon which +> 
 world may gaze with admiration for ever I_ 
 
MR, HAYNE S SPEECH, 
 
 DEBATE IN THE SENATE ON MR. FOOT S RESOLUTION, THURSDAY 
 JANUARY 21, 1830. 
 
 MR. FOOT S resolution being under consideration, % 
 [When Mr. WEBSTER concluded his first speech on Wednesday, the 20th, 
 Mr. BENTON followed with some remarks in reply to Mr. W., but as they 
 were principally embodied In his more extended speech some days after, 
 those remarks are omitted. On the day following, Mr. HAYNE took the floor 
 in the following rejoinder to Mr. WEBSTER.] 
 
 Mr. HAYNE said, when he took occasion, two days ago, to throw out 
 some ideas with respect to the policy of the government, in relation to the 
 public lands, nothing certainly could have been further from his thoughts, 
 than that he should have been compelled again to throw himself upon the 
 indulgence of the Senate. Little did I expect, said Mr. H., to be called upon 
 to meet such an argument as was yesterday urged by the gentleman from 
 Massachusetts, (Mr. Webster.) Sir, I questioned no man s opinions; I im 
 peached no man s motives ; I charged no party, or state, or section of country 
 with hostility to any other, but ventured, as I thought, in a becoming spirit, 
 to put forth my own sentiments in relation to a great national question of 
 public policy. Such was my course. The gentlemen from Missouri, (Mr. 
 Benton,) it is true, had charged upon the Eastern States an early and con 
 tinued hostility towards the west, and referred to a number of historical facts 
 and documents in support of that charge. Now, sir, how have these differ 
 ent argument been met ? The honorable gentleman from Massachusetts, after 
 deliberating a whole night upon his course, comes into this chamber to vin 
 dicate New England; and instead of making up his issue with the gentleman 
 from Missouri, on the charges which he had preferred, chooses to consider me 
 as the author of those charges, and losing sight entirely of that gentlemen, 
 selects me as his adversary, and pours out all the vials of his mighty wrath 
 upon my devoted head. Nor is he willing to stop there. He goes on to 
 assail the institutions and policy of the south, and calls in question the prin 
 ciples and conduct of the state which I have the honor to represent. When 
 I find a gentlemen of mature age and experience, of acknowledged talents 
 and profound sagacity, pursuing a course like this, declining the contest 
 offered from the west, and making war upon the unoffending south, I must 
 believe, I am bound to believe, he has some object in view which he has not 
 ventured to disclose. Mr. President, why is this ? Has the gentleman dis 
 covered in former controversies with the gentleman from Missouri, that he is 
 overmatched by that senator ? And does he hope for an easy victory over 
 
138 
 
 a more feeble adversary ? Has the gentleman s distempered fancy been dis 
 turbed by gloomy forebodings of " new alliances to be formed," at which he 
 hinted? Has the ghost of the murdered COALITION come back, like the 
 ghost of Banquo, to " sear the eyeballs of the gentleman," and will it not 
 down at his bidding ? Are dark visions of broken hopes, and honors lost 
 forever, still floating before his heated imagination ? Sir, if it be his object to 
 thurst me between the gentleman from Missouri and himself, in order to 
 rescue the east from the contest it has provoked with the west, he shall not 
 be gratified. Sir, I will not be dragged into the defence of my friend from 
 Missouri. The south shall not be forced into a conflict not its own. The 
 gentleman from Missouri is able to .fight his own battles. The gallent west 
 needs no aid from the south to repel any attack which may be made on them 
 from any quarter. Let the gentlemen from Massachusetts controvert the 
 fact and arguments of the gentleman from Missouri, if he can and if 
 he win the victory, let him wear the honors ; I shall not deprive him of his. 
 laurels. 
 
 The gentleman from Massachusetts, in reply to my remarks on the in 
 jurious operations of our land system on the prosperity of the west, pro 
 nounced an extravagant eulogium on the paternal care which the government 
 had extended towards the west, to which he attributed all that was great and 
 excellent in the present condition of the new states. The language ot the 
 gentleman on this topic fell upon my ears like the almost forgotten tones of 
 the tory leaders of the British Parliament, at the commencement of the 
 American revolution. They, too, discovered that the colonies had grown 
 great under the fostering care of the mother country ; and I must confess, 
 while listening to the gentleman, I thought the appropriate reply to his argu 
 ment was to be found in the remark of a celebrated orator, made on that 
 occasion : " They have grown great in spite of your protection." 
 
 The gentleman, in commenting on the policy of the government in rela 
 tion to the new states, has introduced to. our notice a certain Nathan Dane, 
 of Massachusetts, to whom he attributes the celebrated ordinance of 87, by 
 which he tells us, " slavery was forever excluded from the new states north of 
 the Ohio." After eulogizing the wisdom of this provision in terms of the 
 most extravagant praise, he breaks forth in admiration of the greatness of 
 Nathan Dane and great indeed he must be, if it be true, as stated by the 
 senator from Massachusetts, that " he was greater than Solon and Lycurgus, 
 Minos, Numa Pompilius, and all the legislators and philosophers of the world," 
 ancient and modern. Sir, to such high authority it is certainly my duty, in 
 a becoming spirit of humility, to submit. And yet, the gentleman will par 
 don me, when I say, that it is a little unfortunate for the fame of this great 
 legislator, that the gentleman from Missouri should have proved that he was 
 not the author of the ordinance of 87, on which the senator from Massachu 
 setts has reared so glorious a monument to his name. Sir, I doubt not the 
 senator will feel some compassion for our ignorance, when I tell him, that so 
 little are we acquainted with the modern great men of New England, that 
 until he informed us yesterday that we possessed a Solon and a Lycurgus in 
 the person of Nathan Dane, he was only known to the south as a member 
 of a celebrated assembly, called and known by the name of the k Hartford 
 Convention." In the proceedings of that assembly, which I hold in my hand, 
 (at p. 19,) will be found, in a few lines, the history of Nathan Dane; and a little 
 farther on, there is conclusive evidence of that ardent devotion to the interest 
 of the new states, which it seems, has given him a just claim to the title of 
 
139 
 
 " Father of the West." By the 2d resolution of the " Hartford Convention," 
 it is declared, " that it is expedient to attempt to make provision for restraining 
 Congress in ike exercise of an unlimited power to make new states, and ad 
 mitting them into the Union." So much for Nathan Dane, of Beverly, 
 Massachusetts. 
 
 In commenting upon my views in relation to the public lands, the gentle 
 man insists, that it being one of the conditions of the grants that these lands 
 should be applied to " the common benefit of all the states, they must always 
 remain a fund for revenue;" and adds, "they, must be treated as so much 
 treasure." Sir, the gentleman could hardly find language strong enough to 
 convey his disapprobation of the policy which I have ventured to recom 
 mend to the favorable consideration of the country. And what, sir, was that 
 policy, and what is the difference between that gentleman and myself on that 
 subject ? I threw out the idea that the public lands ought not to be reserved 
 forever, as " a great fund for revenue ;" that they ought not to be " treated as a 
 great treasure; but that the course of our policy should rather be directed 
 towards the creation of new states, and building up great and flourishing 
 communities 
 
 Now, sir, will it be believed, by those who now hear me, and who 
 listened to the gentlemen s denunciation of my doctrines yesterday, that 
 a book then lay open before him nay, that he held it in his hand, and 
 read from it certain passages of his own speech, delivered to the House of 
 Representatives in 1825, in which speech he himself contended for the very 
 doctrines I had advocated, and almost in the same terms I Here is the 
 speech of the Hon. Daniel Webster, contained in the first volume of Gales 
 and Seaton s Register of Debates (p. 251,) delivered in the House of Rep 
 resentatives on the 18th of January, 1825, in a debate on the Cumberland 
 road the very debate from which the senator read yesterday. I shall read 
 from the celebrated speech two passages, from which it will appear that both 
 as to the past and the future policy of the government in relation to the pub 
 lic lands, the gentleman from Massachusetts maintained, in 1825, substantially 
 the same opinions which I have advanced, but which he now so strongly 
 reprobates. I said, sir, that the system of credit sales by which the west had 
 been kept constantly in debt to the United States, and by which their wealth 
 was drained off to be expended elsewhere, had operated injuriously on their 
 prosperity. On this point the gentleman from Massachusetts, in January, 
 1825, expressed himself thus: " There could be no doubt, if gentlemen looked 
 at the money received into the traasury from the sale of the public lands to 
 the west, and then looked to the whole amount expended by government, 
 (even including the whole amount of what was laid out for the army,) the 
 latter must be allowed to be very inconsiderable, and there must be a con 
 stant drain of money from the west to pay for the public lands. It might 
 indeed be said that this was no more than the refluence of capital which had 
 previously gone over the mountains. Be it so. Still its practical effect was 
 to produce inconvenience, if not distress, by absorbing the money of the 
 people" 
 
 I contend that the public lands ought not to be treated merely as " a 
 fund for revenue ;" that they ought not to be hoarded " as a great treasure." 
 On this point the senator expressed himself thus: " Government, he believed, 
 had received eighteen or twenty millions of dollars from the public lands, 
 and it was with the greatest satisfaction he adverted to the change which had 
 been introduced in the mode of paying for them ; yet he could never think 
 
140 
 
 the national domain was to he regarded, as any great source of revenue. 
 The great object of the government, in respect of these lands, was not so 
 much the money derived from their sale, as it was the getting them settled. 
 What he meant to say was, he did not think they ought to hug that domain 
 AS A GREAT TREASURE, which ivcis to enrich the Exchequer? 
 
 Now, Mr. President, it will be seen that the very doctrines which the 
 gentleman so indignantly abandons were urged by him in 1825 ; and if I had 
 actually borrowed my sentiments from those which he then avowed, I could 
 not have followed more closely in his footsteps. Sir, it is only since the 
 gentleman quoted this book, yesterday, that my attention has been turned to 
 the sentiments he expressed in 1825 ; and if I had remembered them, I might 
 possibly have been deterred from uttering sentiments here, which, it might 
 well be supposed, I had borrowed from that gentleman. 
 
 In 1825, the gentleman told the world that the public lands "ought not 
 to be treated as a treasure." He now tells us that " they must be treated as 
 so much treasure." What the deliberate opinion of the gentleman on this 
 subject may be, belongs not to me to determine; but I do not think he can, 
 with the shadow of justice or propriety, impugn my sentiments, while his 
 own recorded opinions are identical with my own. When the gentleman 
 refers to the conditions of the grants under which the United States have 
 acquired these lands, and insists that, as they are declared to be " for the 
 common benefit t of all the states," they can only be treated as so much 
 treasure, I think he has applied a rule of construction too narrow for the 
 case. If in the deeds of cession it has been declared that the grants were 
 intended for u the common benefit of all the states," it is clear, from other pro 
 visions, that they were not intended merely as 50 much property; for it is 
 expressly declared, that the object of the grants is the erection of new states; 
 and the United States, in accepting this trust, bind themselves to facilitate 
 the foundation of these states, to be admitted into the Union with all the 
 rights and privileges of the original states. This, sir, was the great end to 
 which all parties looked, and it is by the fulfilment of this high trust that 
 " the common benefit of all the states" is to be best promoted. Sir, let me 
 tell the gentleman, that in the part of the country in which I live, we do not 
 measure political benefits by the money standard. We consider as more 
 valuable than gold, liberty, principle, and justice. But, sir, if we are bound 
 to act on the narrow principles contended for by the gentleman, I am wholly 
 at a loss to conceive how he can reconcile his principles with his own practice. 
 The lands are, it seems, to be treated " as so much treasure," and must be 
 applied to the " common benefit of all the states." Now, if this be so, whence 
 does he derive the right to appropriate them for partial and local objects ? 
 How can the gentleman consent to vote away immense bodies of these lands, 
 for canals in Indiana and Illinois, to the Louisville and Portland Canal, to 
 Kenyon College in Ohio, to Schools for the Deaf and Dumb, and other 
 objects of a similar description ? If grants of this character can fairly be 
 considered as made " for the common benefit of all the states," it can only 
 be, because all the states are interested in the welfare of each a principle 
 which, carried to the full extent, destroys all distinction between local and 
 national objects, and is certainly broad enough to embrace the principles for 
 which I have ventured to contend. Sir, the true difference between us I 
 take to be this : the gentleman wishes to treat the public lands as a great 
 treasure, just as so much money in the treasury, to be applied to all objects, 
 constitutional and unconstitutional, to which the public money is constantly 
 
141 
 
 applied. I consider it as a sacred trust which we ought to fulfil, on the prin 
 ciples for whicn I have contended. 
 
 The senator from Massachusetts has thought proper to present, in strong 
 contrast, the friendly feelings of the east towards the west, with sentiments 
 of an opposite character displayed by the south in relation to appropriations 
 for internal improvements. Now, sir, let it be recollected that the south have 
 made no professions; I have certainly made none in their behalf, of re 
 gard for the west, It has been reserved for the gentleman from Massachu 
 setts, while he vaunts over his own personal devotion to western interests, to 
 claim for the entire section of country to which he belongs an ardent friend 
 ship for the west, as manifested by their support of the system of internal 
 improvement, while he caste in our teeth the reproach that the south has 
 manifested hostility to western interests in opposing appropriations for such 
 objects. That gentleman, at the same time, acknowledged that the south 
 entertains constitutional scruples on this subject. Are we then, sir, to 
 understand that the gentleman considers it a just subject of reproach that we 
 respect our oaths, by which we are bound "to preserve, protect, and 
 defend the constitution of the United States ? " "Would the gentleman have 
 us manifest our love to the west by trampling under foot our constitutional 
 scruples ? Does he not perceive, if the south is to be reproached with un 
 kind ness to the west, in voting against appropriations which the gentleman 
 admits they could not vote for without doing violence to their constitutional 
 opinions, that he exposes himself to the question, whether, if he was in our 
 situation, he could vote for these appropriations, regardless of his scruples ? 
 No, sir, I will not do the gentleman so great injustice. He has fallen into 
 this error from not having duly weighed the force and effect of the reproach 
 which he was endeavoring to cast upon the south. In relation to the other 
 point, the friendship manifested by New England towards the west, in their 
 support of the system of internal improvement, the gentleman will pardon 
 me for saying, that I think he is equally unfortunate in having introduced 
 that topic. As that gentleman has forced it upon us, however, I cannot 
 suffer it to pass unnoticed. When the gentleman tells us that the appropria 
 tions for internal improvement in the west would, in almost every instance, 
 have failed but for New England votes, he has forgotten to tell us the when, 
 the how, and the wherefore this new-born zeal for the west sprung up in th 
 bosom of New England. If we look back only a few years, we will find in 
 both houses of Congress a uniform and steady opposition on the part of the 
 members from the Eastern States, generally, to all the appropriations of this 
 character. At the time I became a member of this house, and for some 
 time afterwards, a decided majority of the New England senators were 
 opposed to the very measures which the senator from Massachusetts tells us 
 they now cordially support. Sir, the Journals are before me, and an ex 
 amination of them will satisfy every gentleman of that fact. 
 
 It must be well known to every one whose experience dates back as far as 
 1825, that up to a certain period, New England was generally opposed to 
 appropriations for internal improvements in the west. The gentleman from 
 Massachusetts may be himself an exception, but if he went for the system 
 before 1 825, it is certain that his colleagues did not go with him. 
 
 In the session of 1824 and 25, however, (a memorable era in the history 
 of this country,) a wonderful change took place in New England, in relation 
 to western interests. Sir, an extraordinary union of sympathies and of in 
 terests was then effected, which brought the east and the west into close 
 
142 
 
 alliance. The book from which I have before read contains the first public 
 annunciation of that happy reconciliation of conflicting interests, personal and 
 political, which brought the east and west together, and locked in a fraternal 
 embrace the two great orators of the east and west. Sir, it was on the 1 8th 
 January, 1825, while the result of the presidential election, in the Hous6 of 
 Representatives was still doubtful, while the whole country was looking with 
 intense anxiety to that legislative hall where the mighty drama was so soon to 
 be acted, that we saw the leaders of two great parties in the house and in the 
 nation, " taking sweet counsel together," and in a celebrated debate on the 
 Cumberland road, righting side by side for western interests. It was on 
 that memorable occasion that the senator from Massachusetts held out the 
 white flag to the west, and uttered those liberal sentiments which he yester 
 day so indignantly repudiated. Then it was, that that happy union between 
 the members of the celebrated coalition was consummated, whose immediate 
 issue was a president from one quarter of the Union, with the succession (as 
 it was supposed) secured to another. The " American system," before a rude, 
 disjointed, and mishapen mass, now assumed form and consistency. Then it 
 was that it became " the settled policy of the government," that this system 
 should be so administered as to create a reciprocity of interests and a recipro 
 cal distribution of government favors, east and west, (the tariff and internal 
 improvements,) while the south yes, sir, the impracticable south was to 
 be "out of your protection." The gentleman may as boast much as he pleases of 
 the friendship of New England for the west, as displayed in their support of 
 internal improvement; but when he next introduces that topic, I trust that 
 he will tell us when that friendship commenced, how it was brought about, 
 and why it was established. Before I leave this topic, I must be permitted to 
 say that the true character of the policy now pursued by the gentleman from 
 Massachusetts and his friends, in relation to appropriations of land and money, 
 for the benefit of the west, is in my estimation very similar to that pursued 
 by Jacob of old toward his brother Esau : " it robs them of their birthright 
 for a mess of pottage." 
 
 The gentleman from Massachusetts, in alluding to a remark of mine, 
 that before any disposition could be made of the public lands, the national 
 debt (for which they stand pledged) must be first paid, took occasion to in 
 timate " that the extraordinary fervor which seems to exist in a certain 
 quarter, (meaning the south, sir,) for the payment of the debt, arises from a 
 disposition to weaken the ties which bind the people to the Union" While 
 the gentleman deals us this blow, he professes an ardent desire to see the debt 
 speedily extinguished. He must excuse me, however, for feding some distrust 
 on that subject until I find this disposition manifested by something stronger 
 than professions. I shall look for acts, decided and unequivocal acts; for the 
 performance of which an opportunity will very soon (if I am not greatly 
 mistaken) be afforded. Sir, if I were at liberty to judge of the course which 
 that gentleman would pursue, from the principles which he has laid down in 
 relation to this matter, I should be bound to conclude that he will be found 
 acting with those with whom it is a darling object to prevent the payment 
 of the public debt. He tells us he is desirous of paying the debt, " because 
 we are under an obligation to discharge it." Now, sir, suppose it should 
 happen that the public creditors, with whom we have contracted the obligation, 
 should release us from it, so far as to declare their willingness to wait for pay 
 ment for fifty years, provided only the interest shall be punctually discharged. 
 The gentleman from Massachusetts will then be released from the obligation 
 
143 
 
 winch now makes him desirous of paying the debt ; and, let me tell the gentle 
 man, the holders of the stock will not only release us from this obligation, 
 but they will implore, nay, they will even pay us not to pay them. But, 
 adds the gentleman, so far as the debt may have an effect in binding the debtors 
 to the country, and thereby serving as a link to hold the states together, he 
 would be glad that it should exist forever. Surely then, sir, on the gentle 
 man s own principles, he must be opposed to the payment of the debt. 
 
 Sir, let me tell that gentleman, that the South repudiates the idea that a 
 pecuniary dependence on the federal government is one of the legitimate 
 means of holding the states together. A moneyed interest in the government 
 is essentially a base interest; and just so far as it operates to bind the feelings 
 of those who are subjected to it to the government just so far as it operates 
 in creating sympathies and interests that would not otherwise exist, is it 
 opposed to all the principles of free government, and at war with virtue and 
 patriotism. Sir, the link which binds the public creditors, as such, to their 
 country, binds them equally to all governments, whether arbitrary or free. In 
 a free government, this principle of abject dependence, if extended through 
 all the ramifications of society, must be fatal to liberty. Already have we 
 made alarming strides in that direction. The entire class of manufacturers, 
 the holders of stocks, with their hundreds of millions of capital, are held to 
 the government by the strong link of pecuniary interests; millions of people 
 
 entire sections of country, interested or believing themselves to be so, in 
 the public lands, and the public treasure are bound to the government by 
 the expectation of pecuniary favoi s. If this system is carried much further, 
 no man can fail to see that every generons motive of attachment to the coun 
 try will be destroyed, and in its place will spring up those low, grovelling, base 
 and selfish feelings which bind men to the footstool of a despot by bonds as 
 strong and enduring as those which attach them to free institutions. Sir, I 
 would lay the foundation of this government in the affections of the people 
 
 I would teach them to cling to it by dispensing equal justice, and above 
 all, by securing the " blessings of liberty" to " themselves and to their posterity." 
 
 The honorable gentleman from Massachusetts has gone out of his way to 
 pass a high eulogium on the state of OHIO. In the most impassioned tones 
 of eloquence, he described her majestic march to greatness. He told us, that, 
 having already left all the other states far behind, she was now passing by 
 Virginia and Pennsylvania, and about to take her station by the side of New 
 York. To all this, sir, I was disposed most cordially to respond. When, 
 however, the gentleman proceeded to contrast the state of Ohio with Ken 
 tucky, to the disadvantage of the latter, I listened to him with regret ; and 
 when he proceeded further to attribute the great, and, as he supposed, acknow 
 ledged superiority of the former in population, wealth, and general prosperity, 
 to the policy of Nathan Dane, of Massachusetts, which had secured to the 
 people of Ohio (by the ordinance of 87) a population of freemen, I will 
 confess that my feelings suffered a revulsion which I am now unable to describe 
 in any language sufficiently respectful towards the gentleman from Massachu 
 setts. In contrasting the state of Ohio with Kentucky, for the purpose of 
 pointing, out the superiority of the former, and of attributing that superiority 
 to the existence of slavery in the one state, and its absence in the other, I 
 thought I could discern the very spirit of the Missouri question, intruded 
 into this debate, for objects best known to the gentleman himself. Did that 
 gentleman, sir, when he formed the determination to cross the southern border, 
 in order to invade the state of South Carolina, deem it prudent or necessary 
 
144 
 
 to enlist under his banners the prejudices of the world, which, like Swiss 
 troops, may be engaged in any cause, and are prepared to serve under any 
 leader ? Did he desire to avail himself of those remorseless allies, ike pas 
 sions of mankind, of which it may be more truly said than of the savage 
 tribes of the wilderness, " that their known rule of warfare is an indiscriminate 
 slaughter of all ages, sexes, and conditions" ? Or was it supposed, sir, that in 
 a premeditated and unprovoked attack upon the south, it was advisable to 
 begin by a gentle admonition of our supposed weakness, in order to prevent 
 us from making that firm and manly resistance due to our own character and 
 our dearest interests? Was the significant hint of the weakness of slave- 
 holding states, when contrasted with the superior strength of free states, 
 like the glare of the weapon half drawn from its scabbard, intended to 
 enforce the lessons of prudence and of patriotism, which the gentleman had 
 resolved, out of his abundant generosity, gratuitously to bestow upon us ? Mr. 
 President, the impression which has gone abroad of the weakness of the 
 sout/i, as connected with the slave question, exposes us to such constant attacks, 
 has done us so much injury, and is calculated to produce such infinite mis 
 chiefs, that I embrace the occasion presented by the remarks of the gentleman 
 of Massachusetts, to declare that we are ready to meet the question promptly 
 and fearlessly. It is one from which we are not disposed to shrink, in what 
 ever form or under whatever circumstances it may be pressed upon us. 
 
 We are ready to make up the issue with the gentleman, as to the influence 
 of slavery on individual or national character on the prosperity and great 
 ness, either of the United States or of particular states. Sir, when arraigned 
 before the bar of public opinion, on this charge of slavery, we can stand up 
 with conscious rectitude, plead not guilty, and put ourselves upon God and 
 our country. Sir, we will not consent to look at slavery in the abstract. We 
 will not stop to inquire whether the black man, as some philosophers have 
 contended, is of an inferior race, nor whether his color and condition are the 
 effects of a curse inflicted for the offences of his ancestors. We deal in no 
 abstractions. We will not look back to inquire whether our fathers were 
 guiltless in introducing slaves into this country. If an inquiry should ever 
 be instituted in these matters, however, it will be found that the profits of the 
 slave trade were not confined to the south. Southern ships and southern sail 
 ors were not the instruments of bringing slaves to the shores of America, nor 
 lid our merchants reap the profit of that " accursed traffic." But, sir, we will 
 pass over all this. If slavery, as it now exists in this country, be an evil, we 
 of the present day found it ready made to our hands. Finding our lot cast 
 among a people whom God had manifestly committed to our care, we did not 
 sit down to speculate on abstract questions of theoretical liberty. We met it 
 as a practical question of obligation and duty. We resolved to make the best 
 of the situation in which Providence had placed us, and to fulfil the high 
 trusts which had devolved upon us as the owners of slaves, in the only way in 
 which such a trust could be fulfilled, without spreading misery aocl ruin 
 ihroughout the land. We found that we had to deal with a people whose 
 physical, moral, and intellectual habits and character totally disqualified them 
 from the enjoyment of the blessings of freedom. We could not send them 
 back to the shores from whence their fathers had been taken ; their numbers 
 forbade the thought, even if we did not know that their condition here is 
 infinitely preferable to what it possibly could be among the barren sands and 
 savage tribes of Africa ; and it was wholly irreconcilable with all our notions 
 of humanity to tear asunder the tender ties which they had formed among us, 
 
145 
 
 to gratify the feelings of a false philanthropy. What a commentary on the 
 wisdom, justice, and humanity of the southern slave owner is presented by the 
 example of certain benevolent associations and charitable individuals elsewhere! 
 Shedding weak tears over sufferings which had existence in their own sickly 
 imaginations, these "friends of humanity" set themselves systematically to 
 work to seduce the slaves of the south from their masters. By means of mis 
 sionaries and political tracts, the scheme was in a great measure successful. 
 Thousands of these deluded victims of fanaticism were seduced into the enjoy 
 ment of freedom in our northern cities. And what has been the consequence ? 
 Go to these cities now and ask the question. Visit the dark and narrow lanes, 
 and obscure recesses, which have been assigned by common consent as the 
 abodes of those outcasts of the world, the free people of color. Sir, there 
 does not exist, on the face of the whole earth, a population so poor, so wretched, 
 so vile, so loathsome, so utterly destitute of all the comforts, conveniences, and 
 decencies of life, as the unfortunate blacks of Philadelphia, and New York, 
 and Boston, Liberty has been to them the greatest of calamities, the heaviest 
 of curses. Sir, I have had some opportunities of making comparison between 
 the condition of the free negroes of the north and the slaves of the south, and 
 the comparison has left not only an indelible impression of the superior advan 
 tages of the latter, but has gone far to reconcile me to slavery itself. Never 
 have I felt so forcibly that touching description, " the foxes have holes, and 
 the birds of the air have nests, but the Son of man hath not where to lay his 
 head," as when I have seen this unhappy race, naked and houseless, almost 
 starving in the streets, and abandoned by all the world. Sir, I have seen in 
 the neighborhood of one of the most moral, religious, and refined cities of the 
 north, a family of free blacks, driven to the caves of the rocks, and there ob 
 taining a precarious subsistence from charity and plunder. 
 
 When the gentleman from Massachusetts adopts and reiterates the old charge 
 of weakness as resulting from slavery, I must be permitted to call for the proof 
 of those blighting effects which he ascribes to its influence. I suspect that 
 when the subject is closely examined, it will be found that there is not much 
 force even in the plausible objection of the want of physical power in slave- 
 holding states. The power of a country is compounded of its population and 
 its wealth, and in modern times, where, from the very form and structure of 
 society, by far the greater portion of the people must, even during the con 
 tinuance of the most desolating wars, be employed in the cultivation of the 
 soil and other peaceful pursuits, it may be well doubted whether slaveholding 
 states, by reason of the superior value of their productions, are not able to 
 maintain a number of troops in the field fully equal to what could be supported 
 by states with a larger white population, but not possessed of equal .resources. 
 
 It is a popular error to suppose that, in any possible state of things, the 
 people of a country could ever be called out en masse, or that a half, or a 
 third, or even a fifth part of the physical force of any country could ever be 
 brought into the field. The difficulty is, not to procure men, but to provide 
 the means of maintaining them; and in this view of the subject, it may be 
 asked whether the Southern States are not a source of strength and power, and 
 not of weakness to the country whether they have not contributed, and are 
 not now contributing, largely to the wealth and prosperity of every state in 
 this Union. From a statement which I hold in my hand, it appears that in 
 ten years from 1818 to 182V, inclusive the whole amount of the domes 
 tic exports of the United States was $521,811,045; of which three articles, 
 (the product of slave labor,) viz., cotton, rice, and tobacco, amounted to 
 
146 
 
 $339,203,232 equal to about two thirds of the whole. It is not true, as 
 has been supposed, that the advantage of this labor is confined almost exclu 
 sively to the Southern States. Sir, I am thoroughly convinced that, at this 
 time, the states north of the Potomac actually derive greater profits from the 
 labor of our slaves than we do ourselves. It appears from our public docu 
 ments, that in seven years from 1821 to 1827, inclusive the six Southern 
 States exported $190,337,281, and imported only $55,646,301. Now, the 
 difference between these two sums (near $140,000,000) passed through the 
 hands of the northern merchants, and enabled them to carry on their com 
 mercial operations with all the world. Such part of these goods as found its 
 way back to our hands came charged with the duties, as well as the profits, of 
 the merchant, the ship owner, and a host of others, who found employment in 
 carrying on these immense exchanges; and for such part as was consumed at 
 the north, we received in exchange northern manufactures, charged with an 
 increased price, to cover all the taxes which the northern consumer had been 
 compelled to pay on the imported article. It will be seen, therefore, at a glance, 
 how much slave labor has contributed to the wealth and prosperity of the Uni 
 ted States, and how largely our northern brethren have participated in the 
 profits of that labor. Sir, on this subject I will quote an authority, which will, 
 I doubt not, be considered by the senator from Massachusetts as entitled to 
 high icspect. It is from the great father of the "American System," honest 
 Matthew Carey no great friend, it is true, at this time, to southern rights 
 and southern interests, but not the worst authority on that account, on the point 
 in question. 
 
 Speaking of the relative importance to the Union of the SOUTHERN and 
 the EASTERN STATES, Matthew Carey, in the sixth edition of his Olive Branch, 
 (p. 278,) after exhibiting a number of statistical tables to show the decided 
 superiority of the former, thus proceeds: 
 
 " But 1 am tired of this investigation I sicken for the honor of the human 
 species. What idea must the world form of the arrogance of the pretensions 
 of the one side, [the east] and of the folly and weakness of the rest of the 
 Union, to have so long suffered them to pass without exposure and detection. 
 The naked fact is, that the demagogues in the Eastern States, not satisfied with 
 deriving all the benefit from the southern section of the Union that they 
 would from so many wealthy colonies with making princely fortunes by 
 the carriage and exportation of its bulky and valuable productions, and sup 
 plying it with their own manufactures, and the productions of Europe and 
 the East and West Indies, to an enormous amount, and at an immense profit, 
 have uniformly treated it with outrage, insult, and injury. And, regardless of 
 their vital interests, the Eastern States were lately courting their own destruc 
 tion, by allowing a few restless, turbulent men to lead them blindfolded to a 
 separation which was pregnant with their certain ruin. Whenever that event 
 takes place, they sink into insignificance. If a separation were desirable to any 
 part of the Union, it would be to the Middle and Southern States, particularly 
 the latter, who have been so long harassed with the complaints, the restlessness, 
 the turbulence, and the ingratitude of the Eastern States, that their patience 
 has been tried almost beyond endurance. Jeshurun waxed fat and kicked* 
 and he will be severely punished for his kicking, in the event of a dissolution 
 of the Union." Sir, I wish it to be distinctly understood that I do not adopt 
 these sentiments as my own. I quote them to show that very different senti 
 ments have prevailed in former times as to the weakness of the slaveholding 
 states from those which now seem, to "have become fashionable in certain quar- 
 
147 
 
 ters. I know it has been supposed by certain ill-informed persons, that the 
 south exists only by the countenance and protection of the north. Sir, this is 
 the idlest of all idle and ridiculous fancies that ever entered into the mind of 
 man. In every state of this Union, except one, the free white population 
 actually preponderates ; while in the British West India Islands, (where the 
 average white population is less than ten per cent, of the whole?) the slaves 
 are kept in entire subjection ; it is preposterous to suppose that the Southern 
 States could ever find the smallest difficulty in this respect. On this subject, 
 as in all others, we ask nothing of our northern brethren but to " let us alone." 
 Leave us to the undisturbed management of our domestic concerns, and the 
 direction of our own industry, and we will ask no more. Sir, all our difficul 
 ties on this subject have arisen from interference from abroad, which has dis 
 turbed, and may again disturb, our domestic tranquillity just so far as to bring 
 down punishment upon the heads of the unfortunate victims of a fanatical and 
 mistaken humanity. 
 
 There is a spirit, which, like the father of evil is constantly "walking to and 
 fro about the earth, seeking whom it may devour :" it is the spirit of FALSE 
 PHILANTHROPY. The persons whom it possesses do not indeed throw them 
 selves into the flames, but they are employed in lighting up the torches of dis 
 cord throughout the community. Their first principle of action is to leave 
 their own aft airs, and neglect their own duties, to regulate the affairs and duties 
 of others. Theirs is the task to feed the hungry, and clothe the naked, of other 
 lands, while they thrust the naked, famished, and shivering beggar from their 
 own doors; to instruct the heathen, while their own children want the bread of 
 life. When this spirit infuses itself into the bosom of a statesman, (if one so 
 possessed can be called a statesman,) it converts him at once into a visionary 
 enthusiast. Then it is that he indulges in golden dreams of national greatness 
 and prosperity. He discovers that " liberty is power," and not content with 
 vast schemes of improvement at home, which it would bankrupt the treasury of 
 the world to execute, he flies to foreign lands, to fulfil obligations to " the human 
 race" by inculcating the principles of "political and religious liberty," and pro 
 moting the " general welfare" of the whole human race. It is a spirit which 
 has long been busy with the slaves of the south; and is even now displaying 
 itself in vain efforts to drive the government from its wise policy in relation to 
 the Indians. It is this spirit which has filled the land with thousands of wild 
 and visionary projects, which can have no effect but to waste the energies and dis 
 sipate the resources of the country. It is the spirit of which the aspiring pol 
 itician dexterously avails himself, when, by inscribing on his banner the magi 
 cal words LIBERTY and PHILANTHROPY, he draws to his support that class of 
 persons who are ready to bow down at the very name of their idols. 
 
 But, sir, whatever difference of opinion may exist as to the effect of slavery 
 on national wealth and prosperity, if we may trust to experience, there can be 
 no doubt that it has never yet produced any injurious effect on individual or 
 national character. Look through the whole history of the country, from the 
 commencement of the revolution down to the present hour ; where are there to 
 be found brighter examples of intellectual and moral greatness than have been 
 exhibited by the sons of the south? From the FATHER OF HIS COUNTRY 
 down to the DISTINGUISHED CHIEFTAIN who has been elevated by a grateful 
 people to the highest office in their gift, the interval is filled up by a long line 
 of orators, of statesmen, and of heroes, justly entitled to rank among the orna 
 ments of their country, and the benefactors of mankind. Look at the " Old 
 Dominion," great and magnanimous Virginia, " whose jewels are her sons." Is 
 
148 
 
 there any state in this Union which has contributed so much to the honor and 
 welfare of the country ? Sir, I will yield the whole question I will acknowl 
 edge the fatal effects of slavery upon character, if any one can say, that for 
 noble disinterestedness, ardent love of country, exalted virtue, and a pure and 
 holy devotion to liberty, the people of the Southern States have ever been sur 
 passed by any in the world. I know, sir, that this devotion to liberty has 
 sometimes been supposed to be at war with our institutions ; but it is in some 
 degree the result of those very institutions. Burke, the most philosophical of 
 statesmen, as he was the most accomplished of orators, well understood the 
 operation of this principle, in elevating the sentiments and exalting the princi 
 ples of the people in slaveholding states. I will conclude my remarks on this 
 branch of the subject, by reading a few passages from his speech " on moving 
 his resolutions for conciliation with the colonies," the 22d of March, 1775. 
 
 " There is a circumstance attending the southern colonies which makes the 
 spirit of liberty still more high and haughty than in those to the northward. 
 It is, that in Virginia and the Carolinas they have a vast multitude of slaves. 
 Where this is the case, in any part of the world, those who are free are by far 
 the most proud and jealous of their freedom. Freedom is to them not only 
 an enjoyment, but a kind of rank and privilege. Not seeing there, as in coun 
 tries where it is a common blessing, and as broad and general as the air, that 
 it may be united with much abject toil, with great misery, with all the exterior 
 of servitude, liberty looks among them like something more noble and liberal. 
 I do not mean, sir, to commend the superior morality of this sentiment, which 
 has, at least, as much pride as virtue in it but I cannot alter the nature of 
 man. The fact is so; and these people of the southern colonies are much 
 more strongly, and with a higher and more stubborn spirit, attached to liberty 
 than those to the northward. Such were all the ancient commonwealths such 
 were our Gothic ancestors such, in our days, were the Poles and such will 
 be all masters of slaves who are not slaves themselves. In such a people, the 
 haughtiness of domination combines with the spirit of freedom, fortifies it, and 
 renders it invincible" 
 
 In the course of my former remarks, Mr. President, I took occasion to de 
 precate, as one of the greatest evils, the consolidation of this government. 
 The gentleman takes alarm at the sound, "Consolidation? like the "tariff? 
 grates upon his ear. He tells us, " we have heard much of late about consoli 
 dation ; that it is the rallying word of all who are endeavoring to weaken 
 the Union, by adding to the power of the states." But consolidation (says 
 the gentleman) was the very object for which the Union was formed ; and, in 
 support of that opinion, he read a passage from the address of the president 
 of the convention to Congress, which he assumes to be authority on his side 
 of the question. But, sir, the gentleman is mistaken. The object of the fra- 
 mers of the constitution, as disclosed in that address, was not the consolida 
 tion of the government, but " the consolidation of the Union." It was not to 
 draw power from the states, in order to transfer it to a great national govern 
 ment, but, in the language of the constitution itself, " to form a more perfect 
 Union ;" and by what means ? By " establishing justice, promoting do 
 mestic tranquillity, and securing the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our 
 posterity." This is the true reading of the constitution. But, according to 
 the gentleman s reading, the object of the constitution was, to consolidate the 
 government, and the means would seem to be, the promotion of injustice, 
 causing domestic discord, and depriving the states and the people " of the 
 blessings of liberty" for ever. 
 
149 
 
 The gentleman boasts of belonging to the party of NATIONAL REPUBLI 
 CANS. .National Republicans ! A new name, sir, for a very old thing. The 
 National Republicans of the present day were the Federalists of 98, who 
 became Federal Republicans during the war of 1812, and were manufac 
 tured into National Republicans somewhere about the year 18:25. 
 
 As a party, (by whatever name distinguished,) they have always been 
 animated by the same principles, and have kept steadily in view a common 
 object, the consolidation of the government. Sir, the party to which I am 
 proud of having belonged, from the very commencement of my political life 
 to the present day, were the Democrats of 98, (Anarchists, Anti-Federal 
 ists, Revolutionists, I think they were sometimes called.) They assumed 
 the mune of DEMOCRATIC REPUBLICANS in 1822, and have retained their 
 name and principles up to the present hour. True to their political faith, 
 they have always, as a party, been in favor of limitations of power ; they have 
 insisted that all powers not delegated to the federal government are reserved, 
 and have been constantly struggling, as they now are, to preserve the rights 
 of the states, and to prevent them from being drawn into the vortex, and swal 
 lowed up by one great consolidated government. 
 
 Sir, any one acquainted with the history of parties in this country will re 
 cognize in the points now in dispute between the senator from Massachusetts 
 and myself the very grounds which have, from the beginning, divided the 
 two great parties in this country, and which (call these parties by what 
 names you will, and amalgamate them as you may) will divide them for 
 ever. The true distinction between those parties is laid down in a celebrated 
 manifesto, issued by the convention of the Federalists of Massachusetts, as 
 sembled in Boston, in February, 1824^ on the occasion of organizing a party 
 opposition to the re-election of Governor Eustis. The gentleman will recog 
 nize this as "the canonical book of political scripture;" and it instructs us 
 that, wnen the American colonies redeemed themselves from British bondage, 
 and became so many INDEPENDENT NATIONS, they proposed to form a NA 
 TIONAL UNION, (not a Federal Union, sir, but a National Union.) Those 
 who were in favor of a union of the states in this form became known by 
 the name of Federalists; those who wanted no union of the states, or dis 
 liked the proposed form of union, became known by the name of Anti-Fed 
 eralists. By means which need not be enumerated, the Anti- Federalists 
 became (after the expiration of twelve years) our national rulers, and for a 
 period of sixteen years, until the close of Mr. Madison s administration, in 
 1817, continued to exercise the exclusive direction of our public affairs. 
 Here, sir, is the true history of the origin, rise, and progress of the party of 
 National Republicans, who date back to the very origin of the government, 
 and who, then, as now, chose to consider the constitution as having created, 
 not a Federal, but a NATIONAL UNION ; who regarded " consolidation" as no 
 evil, and who doubtless consider it " a consummation devoutly to be wished," 
 to build up a great " central government," " one and indivisible." Sir, there 
 have existed, in every age and every country, two distinct orders of men 
 the lovers of freedom, and the devoted advocates of power. 
 
 The same great leading principles, modified only by the peculiarities of 
 manners, habits, and institutions, divided parties in the ancient republics, ani- 
 matod the whigs and tories of Great Britain, distinguished in our own times 
 the liberals and ultras of France, and may be traced even in the bloody 
 struggles of unhappy Spain. Sir, when the gallant Riego, who devoted 
 himself, and all that he possessed, to the liberties of his country, was dragged 
 
150 
 
 to the scaffold, followed by the tears and lamentations of every lover of free 
 dom throughout the world, he perished arcid the deafening cries of " Long 
 live the absolute king!" The people whom I represent, Mr. President, are 
 the descendants of those who brought with them to this country, as the most 
 precious of their possessions, " an ardent love of liberty ;" and while that shall 
 be preserved, they will always be found manfully struggling against the 
 consolidation of the government AS THE WORST OF EVILS. 
 
 The senator from Massachusetts, in alluding to the tariff becomes quite fa 
 cetious. He tells us that " he hears of nothing but tariff, tariff, tariff; and, 
 if a word could be found to rhyme with it, he presumes it would be cele 
 brated in verse and set to music." Sir, perhaps the gentleman, in mockery 
 of our complaints, may be himself disposed to sing the praises of the tariftj 
 in doggerel verse, to the tune of " Old Hundred." I am not at all surprised, 
 however, at the aversion of the gentleman to the very name of tariff. I doubt 
 not that it must aways bring up some very unpleasant recollections to his 
 mind. If I am not greatly mistaken, the senator from Massachusetts was a 
 leading actor at a great meeting got up in Boston in 1820, against the tariff. 
 It has generally been supposed that he drew up the resolutions adopted by 
 that meeting, denouncing the tariff system as unequal, oppressive, and unjust, 
 and if I am not much mistaken, denying its constitutionality. Certain it is, 
 that the gentleman made a speech on that occasion in support of those reso 
 lutions, denouncing the system in no very measured terms; and, if my mem 
 ory serves me, calling its constitutionality in question. I regret that I have 
 not been able to lay my hands on those proceedings; but I have seen them, 
 and cannot be mistaken in their character. At that time, sir, the senator 
 from Massachusetts entertained the very sentiments in relation to the tariff, 
 which the South now entertains. We next find the senator from Massachu 
 setts expressing his opinion on the tariff, as a member of the House of Repre 
 sentatives from the city of Boston, in ] 824. On that occasion, sir, the gen 
 tleman assumed a position which commanded the respect and admiration of 
 his country. He stood forth the powerful, and fearless champion of free trade. 
 He met, in that conflict, the advocates of restriction and monopoly, and they 
 "fled from before his face." With a profound sagacity, a fullness of know 
 ledge, and a richness of illustration that have never been surpassed, he main 
 tained and established the principles of commercial freedom, on a foundation 
 never to be shaken. Great indeed was the victory achieved by the gentle 
 man on that occasion; most striking the contrast between the clear, forcible, 
 and convincing arguments by which he carried away the understandings of 
 his hearers, and the narrow views and "wretched sophistry of another distin 
 guished orator, who may be truly said to have " held up his farthing candle 
 to the sun." 
 
 Sir, the senator from Massachusetts, on that, the proudest day of his life, 
 like a mighty giant, bore away upon his shoulders the pillars of the temple 
 of error and delusion, escaping himself unhurt, and leaving his adversaries 
 overwhelmed in its ruins. Then it was that he erected to free trade a beauti 
 ful and enduring monument, and "inscribed the marble with his name." Mr. 
 President, it is with pain and regret that I now go forward to the next great 
 era in the political life of that gentleman, when he was found on this floor, 
 supporting, advocating, and finally voting for the tariff of 1828 that "bill 
 of abominations." By that act, sir, the senator from Massachusetts has de 
 stroyed the labors of his whole life, and given a wound to the cause of free 
 trade never to be healed. Sir, when I recollect the position which that gen- 
 
151 
 
 tleman once occupied, and that which he now holds in public estimation, in 
 relation to this subject, it is not at all surprising that the tariff should be 
 hateful to his ears. Sir, if I had erected to my own fame so proud a monu 
 ment as that which the gentleman built-up in 1824, and I could have been 
 tempted to destroy it with my own hands, I should hate the voice that should 
 rin^- "the accursed tariff" in my ears. I doubt not the gentleman feels very 
 much, in relation to the tariff, as a certain knight did to " instinct? and with 
 him would be disposed to exclaim, 
 
 Ah! no more of that, Hal, an thou lovest me." 
 
 But, Mr. President, to be more serious ; what are we of the south to think 
 of what we have heard this day ? The senator from Massachusetts tells us that 
 the tariff is not an eastern measure, and treats it as if the east had no interest 
 in it. The senator from Missouri insists it is not a western measure, and that 
 it has done no good to the west. The south comes in, and, in the most earnest 
 manner, represents to you that this measure, which we are told " is of no 
 value to the east or the west," is " utterly destructive of our interests." We 
 represent to you that it has spread ruin and devastation through the land, and 
 prostrated our hopes in the dust. We solemnly declare that we believe the 
 system to be wholly unconstitutional, and a violation of the compact between 
 the states and the Union ; and our brethren turn a deaf ear to our complaints, 
 and refuse to relieve us from a system " which not enriches them, but makes 
 us poor indeed." Good God! Mr. President, has it come to this/ Do gen 
 tlemen hold the feelings and wishes of their brethren at so cheap a rate, that 
 they refuse to gratify them at so small a price ? Do gentlemen value so lightly 
 the peace and harmony of the country, that they will not yield a measure of 
 this description to the affectionate entreaties and earnest remonstrances of their 
 friends ? Do gentlemen estimate the value of the Union at so low a price, 
 that they will not even make one effort to bind the states together with the 
 cords of affection ? And has it come to this ? Is this the spirit in which this 
 government is to be administered ? If so, let me tell gentlemen, the seeds of 
 dissolution are already sown, and our children will reap the bitter fruit. 
 
 The honorable gentleman from Massachusetts, (Mr. Webster,) while he 
 exonerates me personally from the charge, intimates that there is a party in 
 the country who are looking to disunion. Sir, if the gentleman had stopped 
 there, the accusation would have " passed by me like the idle wind, which I 
 regard not." But when he goes on to give to his accusation " a local habita 
 tion and a name," by quoting the expression of a distinguished citizen of South 
 Carolina, (Dr. Cooper,) " that it was time for the south to calculate the value 
 of the Union," and in the language of the bitterest sarcasm, adds, fo Surely 
 then the Union cannot last longer than July, 1831," it is impossible to mistake 
 either the allusion or the object of the gentleman. Now, Mr. President, I call 
 upon every one who hears me to bear witness that this controversy is not of 
 my seeking. The Senate will do me the justice to remember that, at the 
 time this unprovoked and uncalled-for attack was made on the south, not one 
 word had been uttered by me in disparagement of New England ; nor had I 
 made the most distant allusion either to the senator from Massachusetts or the 
 state he represents. But, sir, that gentleman has thought proper, for purposes 
 best known to himself, to strike the south, through me, the most unworthy of 
 her servants. He has crossed the border, he has invaded the state of South 
 Carolina, is making war upon her citizens, and endeavoring to overthrow her 
 principles and her institutions. Sir, when the gentleman provokes me to such 
 
152 
 
 a conflict, I meet him at the threshold ; I will struggle, while I have life, for 
 our altars and our firesides; and, if God gives me strength, I will drive back 
 the invader discomfited. Nor shall I stop there. If the gentleman provokes 
 the war, he shall have war. Sir, I will not stop at the border; I will carry 
 the war into the enemy s territory, and not consent to lay down my aims until 
 I have obtained "indemnity for the past and security for the future." It is 
 with unfeigned reluctance, Mr. President, that I enter upon the performance 
 of this part of my duty; I shrink almost instinctively from a couise, however 
 necessary, which may have a tendency to excite sectional feelings and s( < tional 
 jealousies. But, sir, the task has been forced upon me ; and I proceed right 
 onward to the performance of my duty. Be the consequences what they may, 
 the responsibility is with those who have imposed upon me this necessity. 
 The senator from Massachusetts has thought proper to cast the first stone ; and 
 if he shall find, according to a hou 17 adage, "that he lives in a glass house," 
 on Li? head be the consequences. The gentleman has made a great flourish 
 about his fidelity to Massachusetts. I shall make no professions of zeal for 
 the interests and honor of South Carolina; of that my constituents shall judge. 
 If there be one state in the Union, Mr. President, (and I say it not in a boast 
 ful spirit,) that may challenge comparison with any other, for a uniform, zeal 
 ous, ardent, and uncalculating .devotion to the Union, that state is South Car 
 olina. Sir, from the very commencement of the revolution up to this hour, 
 there is no sacrifice, however great, she has not cheerfully made, no service 
 she has ever hesitated to perform. She has adhered to you in your prosper 
 ity ; but in your adversity she has clung to you with more than filial affection. 
 No matter what was the condition of her domestic affaire, though deprived of 
 . er resources, divided by parties, or sumwded with difficulties, the call of 
 tne country has been to her as the voice of God. Domestic discord ceased 
 av the sound ; every man became at once reconciled to his brethren, and the 
 sons of Carolina were all seen crowding together to the temple, bringing their 
 gifts to the altar of their common country. 
 
 What, sir, was the conduct of the south during the revolution ? Sir, I 
 honor New England for her conduct in that glorious struggle. But great as 
 is the praise which belongs to her, I think, at least, equal honor is due to the 
 south. They espoused the quarrel of their brethren with a generous zeal, 
 which did not suffer them to stop to calculate their interest in the dispute. 
 Favorites of the mother country, possessed of neither ships nor seamen to 
 create a commercial rivalship, they might have found in their situation a 
 guaranty that their trade would be forever fostered and protected by Great 
 Britain. But, trampling on all considerations either of interest or safety, they 
 rushed into the conflict, and fighting for principle, perilled all, in the sacred 
 cause of freedom. Never was there exhibited in the history of the world 
 higher examples of noble daring, dreadful suffering, and heroic endurance, 
 than by the whigs of Carolina during the revolution. The whole state, from 
 the mountains to the sea, was overrun by an overwhelming force of the enemy. 
 
 The fruits of industry perished on the spot where they were produced, or 
 were consumed by the foe. The "plains of Carolina" drank up the most 
 precious blood of her citizens. Black and smoking ruins marked the places 
 which had been the habitations of her children. Driven from their homes 
 into the gloomy and almost impenetrable swamps, even there the spirit of 
 liberity survived, and South Carolina (sustained by the example of her Sump- 
 ters and her Marions) proved by her conduct, that though her soil might bo 
 overrun, the spirit of her people was invincible. 
 
153 
 
 But, sir, our country was soon called upon to engage in another revolution 
 ary struggle, and that, too, was a struggle for principle. I mean the politi 
 cal revolution which dates back to 98, and which, if it had not been success 
 fully achieved, would have left us none of the fruits of the revolution of 76. 
 The revolution of 98 restored the constitution, rescued the liberty of the 
 citizen from the grasp of those who were aiming at its life, and in the emphatic 
 language of Mr. Jefferson, " saved the constitution at its last gasp." And by 
 whom was it achieved ? By the south, sir, aided only by the democracy of 
 the north and west. 
 
 I come now to the war of 1812 a war which I well remember, was called 
 in derision while its events were doubtful the southern war, and some 
 times the Carolina war ; but which is now universally acknowledged to have 
 done more for the honor and prosperity of the country than all other events 
 in our history put together. What, sir, were the objects of that war ? " Free 
 trade and sailor s rights !" It was for the protection of northern shipping and 
 New England seamen that the country flew to arms. What interest had the 
 south in that contest ? If they had sat down coldly to calculate the value 
 of their interests involved in it, they would have found that they had every 
 thing to lose, and nothing to gain. But, sir, with that generous devotion to 
 country so characteristic of the south, they only asked if the rights of any 
 portion of their fellow-citizens had been invaded ; and when told that north 
 ern ships and New England seamen had been arrested on the common high 
 way of nations, they felt that the honor of their country was assailed ; and 
 acting on that exalted sentiment "which feels a stain like a wound," they 
 resolved to seek, in open war, for a redress of those injuries which it did not 
 become freemen to endure. Sir, the whole south, animated as by a common 
 impulse, cordially united in declaring and promoting that war. South Caro 
 lina sent to your councils, as the advocates and supporters of that war, the 
 noblest of her sons. How they fulfilled that trust let a grateful country tell. 
 Not a measure was adopted, not a battle fought, not a victory won, which 
 contributed, in any degree, to the success of that war, to which southern 
 councils and southern valor did not largely contribute. Sir, since South 
 Carolina is assailed, I must be suffered to speak it to her praise, that at the 
 very moment when, in one quarter, we heard it solemnly proclaimed, " that it 
 did not become a religious and moral people to rejoice at the victories of our 
 army or our navy," her legislature unanimously 
 
 " Resolved, That we will cordially support the government in the vigorous 
 prosecution of the war, until a peace can be obtained on honorable terms, and 
 we will cheerfully submit to every privation that may be required of us, by 
 our government, for the accomplishment of this object." 
 
 South Carolina redeemed that pledge. She threw open her treasury to 
 the government. She put at the absolute disposal of the officers of the U. 
 States all that she possessed her men, her money, and her arms. She 
 appropriated half a million of dollars, on her own account^ in defence of 
 her inaritime frontier, ordered a brigade of state troops to be raised, and when 
 left to protect herself by her own means, never suffered the enemy to touch 
 her soil, without being instantly driven off or captured. 
 
 Such, sir, was the conduct of the south such the conduct of my own 
 state in that dark hour " which tried men s souls." 
 
 When I look back and contemplate the spectacle exhibited at that time in 
 another quarter of the Union when I think of the conduct of certain por 
 tions of New England, and remember the part which was acted on that 
 
154 
 
 memorable occasion by the political associates of the gentleman from Massa 
 chusetts nay, when I follow that gentleman into the councils of the nation, 
 arid listen to his voice during the darkest period of the war, I am indeed as 
 tonished that he should venture to touch upon the topics which he has intro 
 duced into this debate. South Carolina reproached by Massachusetts ! And 
 from whom does the accusation come ? Not from the democracy of New 
 England ; for they have been in times past, as they are now, the friends and 
 allies of the south. No, sir, the accusation comes from that party whose acts, 
 duricg the most trying and eventful period of our national history, were of 
 such a character, that their own legislature, but a few years ago, actually 
 blotted them out from their records, as a stain upon the honor of the country. 
 But how can they ever be blotted out from the recollection of any one who 
 had a heart to feel, a mind to comprehend, and a memory to retain, the events 
 of that day ! Sir, I shall not attempt to write the history of the party in 
 New England to which I have alluded the war party in peace, and the 
 peace party in war. That task I shall leave to some future biographer ot 
 Nathan Dane, and I doubt not it will be found quite easy to prove that the 
 peace party of Massachusetts were the only defenders of their country during 
 their war, and actually achieved all our victories by land and sea. In the 
 mean time, sir, and until that history shall be written, I propose, with the 
 feeble and glimmering lights which I possess, to review the conduct of this 
 party, in connection with the war, and the events which immediately pre 
 ceded it. 
 
 It will be recollected, sir, that our great causes of quarrel with Great 
 Britain were her depredations on northern commerce, and the impressment of 
 New England seamen. From every quarter we were called upon for pro 
 tection. Importunate as the west is now represented to be on another subject, 
 the importunity of the east on that occasion was far greater. I hold in my 
 hands the evidence of the fact. Here are petitions, memorials, and remon 
 strances from all parts of New England, setting forth the injustice, the op 
 pressions, the depredations, the insults, the outrages committed by Great 
 Britain against the unoffending commerce and seamen of New England, and 
 calling upon Congress for redress. Sir, I cannot stop to read these memorials. 
 In that from Boston, after stating the alarming and extensive condemnation 
 of our vessels by Great Britain, which threatened " to sweep our commerce 
 from the face of the ocean," and " to involve our merchants in bankruptcy," 
 they call upon the government "to assert our rights, and to adopt such 
 measures as will support the dignity and honor of the United States." 
 
 From Salem we heard a language still more decisive; they call explicitly 
 for " an appeal to arms," and pledge their lives and property in support of any 
 measures which Congress might adopt. From Newburyport an appeal was 
 made " to the firmness and justice of the government to obtain compensation 
 and protection." It was here, I think, that, when the war was declared, it 
 resolved "to resist our own government even unto blood." [Olive Branch, p. 101. 
 
 In other quarters the common language of that day was, that our com 
 merce and our seamen were entitled to protection ; and that it was the duty 
 of the government to afford it at every hazard. The conduct of Great Britain, 
 we were then told, was " an outrage upon our national independence." These 
 clamors, which commenced as early as January, 1806, were continued up to 
 1812. In a message from the governor of one of the New England States, 
 as late as the 10th "October, 1811, this language is held: " A manly and de 
 cisive course has become indispensable ; a course to satisfy foreign nations, 
 
155 
 
 that, while we desire peace, we have the means and the spirit to repel aggres 
 sion. We are felse to ourselves when our commerce, or our territory, is in 
 vaded with impunity," 
 
 About this time, however, a remarkable change was observable in the tone 
 and temper of those who had been endeavoring to force the country into a 
 war. The language of complaint was changed into that of insult, and calls 
 for protection converted into reproaches. " Smoke, smoke !" says one writer ; 
 "my life on it, our executive have no more idea of declaring war than my 
 grandmother." " The committee of ways and means," says another, " have 
 come out with their Pandora s box of taxes, and yet nobody dreams of war." 
 " Congress do not mean to declare war ; they dare not." But why multiply 
 examples ? An honorable member of the other house, from the city of Boston, 
 [Mr. Quincy,] in a speech delivered on the 3d April, 1812, says, "Neither 
 promises, nor threats, nor asseverations, nor oaths, will make me believe that 
 you will go to war. The navigation states are sacrificed, and the spirit and 
 character of the country prostrated by fear and avarice." " You cannot," said 
 the same gentleman, on another occasion, " be kicked into a war." 
 
 Well, sir, the war at length came, and what did we behold ? The very 
 men who had been for six years clamorous for war, and for whose protection 
 it was waged, became at once equally clamorous against it. They had received 
 a miraculous visitation; a new light suddenly beamed upon their minds; the 
 scales fell from their eyes, and it was discovered that the war was declared 
 from " subserviency to France ; " and that Congress, and the executive, " had 
 sold themselves to Napoleon ; " that Great Britain had in fact " done us no 
 essential injury ; " that she was " the bulwark of our religion ; " that where 
 " she took one of our ships, she protected twenty ; " and that, if Great Britain 
 had impressed a few of our seamen, it was because " she could not distinguish 
 them from their own." And so far did this spirit extend, that a committee of 
 the Massachusetts legislature actually fell to calculation, and discovered, to their 
 infinite satisfaction, but to the astonishment of all the world besides, that only 
 eleven Massachusetts sailors had ever been impressed. Never shall I forget 
 the appeals that had been made to the sympathies of the south in behalf of the 
 " thousands of impressed Americans," who had been torn from their families 
 and friends, and " immured in the floating dungeons of Britain." The most 
 touching pictures were drawn of the hard condition of the American sailor, 
 " treated like a slave," forced to fight the battles of his enemy, " lashed to the 
 mast, to be shot at like a dog." But, sir, the very moment we had taken up 
 arms in their defence, it was discovered that all these were mere " fictions of 
 the brain ; " and that the whole number in the state of Massachusetts was but 
 eleve i ; and that even these had been "taken by mistake." Wonderful dis 
 covery ! The secretary of state had collected authentic lists of no less than 
 six thousand impressed Americans. Lord Castlereagh himself acknowledged 
 sixteen hundred. Calculations on the basis of the number found on board 
 of the Guerriere, the Macedonian, the Java, and other British ships, (captured 
 bv the skill and gallantry of those heroes whose achievements are the treas 
 ured monuments of their country s glory,) fixed the number at seven thou 
 sand; and yet, it seems, Massachusetts had lost but eleven! Eleven Massa 
 chusetts sailors taken by mistake ! A cause of war indeed ! Their ships too, 
 the capture of which had threatened " universal bankruptcy," it was discovered 
 that Great Britain was their friend and protector ; " where she had taken one 
 she had protected twenty." Then was the discovery made, that subserviency 
 
 France, hostility to commerce, " a determination, on the part of the south 
 
156 
 
 and west, to break down the Eastern States," and especially (as reported by a 
 committee of the Massachusetts legislature) " to force the sons of commerce 
 to populate the wilderness," were the true causes of the war. (Olive Branch, 
 pp. .134, 291.) But let us look a little further into the conduct of the peace 
 party of New England at that important crisis. Whatever difference of 
 opinion might have existed as to the causes of the war, the country had a 
 right to expect, that, when once involved in the contest, all America would 
 have cordially united in its support. Sir, the war effected, in its progress, a 
 union of all parties at the south. But not so in New England; there great 
 efforts were made to stir up the minds of the people to oppose it. Nothing 
 was left undone to embarrass the financial operations of the government, to 
 prevent the enlistment of troops, to keep back the men and money of New 
 England from the service of the Union, to force the president from his seat. 
 Yes, sir, " the Island of Elba, or a halter ! " were the alternatives they pre 
 sented to the excellent and venerable James Madison. Sir, the war was fur 
 ther opposed by openly carrying on illicit trade with the enemy, by permitting 
 that enemy to establish herself on the very soil of Massachusetts, and by 
 opening a free trade between Great Britain and America, with a separate 
 custom house. Yes, sir, those who cannot endure the thought that we should 
 insist on a free trade, in time of profound peace, could, without scruple, claim 
 and exercise the right of carrying on a free trade with the enemy in a time 
 of war; and finally by getting up the renowned " Hartford Convention," and 
 preparing the way for an open resistance to the government, and a separation 
 of the states. Sir, if I am asked for the proof of those things, I fearlessly 
 appeal to contemporary history, to the public documents of the country, to 
 the recorded opinion and acts of public assemblies, to the declaration and 
 acknowledgments, since made, of the executive and legislature of Massachu 
 setts herself.* 
 
 Sir, the time has not been allowed me to trace this subject through, even 
 if I had been disposed to do so. But 1 cannot refrain from referring to one 
 or two documents, which have fallen in my way since this debate began. I 
 read, sir, from the Olive Branch of Matthew Carey, in which are collected 
 "the actings and doings" of the peace party of New England, during the 
 continuance of the embargo and the war. I know the senator from Massa- 
 
 * In answer to an address of Governor Eustis, denouncing the conduct of the 
 peace party during the war, the House of Representatives of Massachusetts, in June, 
 1823, say, " The change of the political sentiments evinced in the late elections forms 
 indeed a new era in the history of our commonwealth. It is the triumph of reason 
 over passion; of patriotism over party spirit. Massachusetts has returned to her first 
 love, and is no longer a stranger in the Un on. We rejoice that though, during the 
 last war, such measures were adopted in this state as occasioned double sacrifice of 
 treasure and of life, covered the friends of the nation with humiliation and mourn 
 ing, and fixed a stain on the page of our history, a redeeming spirit has at lergth 
 arisen, to take away our reproach, and restore to us our good name, our rank among 
 our sister states, and our just influence in the Union. 
 
 " Though we would not renew contentions, or irritate wantonly, we believe that 
 there are cases when it is necessary we should wound to heal. And we consider it 
 among the first duties of -the friends of our national government, on this return of 
 power, to disavow the unwarrantable course pursued by this state, during the late 
 war, and to hold up the measures of that period as beacons ; that the present and 
 succeeding generations may shun that career which must inevitably terminate in the 
 destruction of the individual or party who pursues it ; and may learn the important 
 lesson, that, in all times, the path of duty is the path of safety ; and that it is never 
 dangerous to rally around the standard of our country." 
 
157 
 
 chusctts will respect the high authority of his political friend and fellow-laborer 
 in the great cause of " domestic industry." 
 
 In p. 301, et seq., 309 of this work, . is a detailed account of the measures 
 adopted in Massachusetts during the war, for the express purpose of embar 
 rassing the financial operations of the government by preventing loans, nnd 
 thereby driving our rulers from their seats, and forcing the country into a <iis- 
 honorable peace. It appears that the Boston banks commenced an opeiation, 
 by which a run was to be made upon all the banks to the south ; at the same 
 time stopping their own discounts; the effect of which was to produce a sud 
 den and most alarming diminution of the circulating medium, and universal 
 distress over the whole country "a distress which they failed not to attribute 
 to the unholy war." 
 
 To such an extent was this system carried, that it appears, from a statement 
 of the condition of the Boston banks, made up in January, 1814, that with 
 nearly $5,000,000 of specie in their vaults, they had but 82,000,000 of bills 
 in circulation. It is added by Carey, that at this very time an extensive trade 
 was carried on in British government bills, for which specie was sent to Canada, 
 for the payment of the British troops, then laying waste our northern frontier ; 
 and this too at the very moment when New England ships, sailing under 
 British licenses, (a trade declared to be lawful by the courts both of Great 
 Britain, and Massachusetts,*) were supplying with provisions those very armies 
 destined for the invasion of our own shores. Sir, the author of the Olive 
 Branch, with a holy indignation, denounces these acts as "treasonable;" 
 " giving aid and comfort to the enemy." I shall not follow his example. But 
 I will ask, With what justice or propriety can the south be accused of disloyalty 
 from that quarter ? If we had any evidence that the senator from Massachu 
 setts had admonished his brethren then, he might, with a better grace, assume 
 the office of admonishing us now. 
 
 When I looked at the mesaures adopted in Boston, at that day, to deprive 
 the government of the necessary means for carrying on the war, and think of 
 the success and the consequences of those measures, I feel my pride, as an 
 American, humbled in the dust. Hear, sir, the language of that day. I read 
 from pages 301 and 302 of the Olive Branch. "Let no man who wishes to 
 continue the war, by active means, by vote, or lending money, dare to pros 
 trate himself at the altar on the fast day." "Will federalists subscribe to the 
 loan ? Will they lend money to our national rulers ? It is impossible. First, 
 because of principle, and secondly, because of principal and interest." " Do 
 not prevent the abusers of their trust from becoming bankrupt. Do not pre 
 vent them from becoming odious to the public, and being replaced by better 
 men." "Any federalist who lends money to government must go and shake 
 hands with James Madison, and claim fellowship with Felix Grundy." (I beg 
 pardon of my honorable friend from Tennessee but he is in good company. 
 I had thought it was James Madison, Felix Grundy, and the devil.") Let 
 him no more " call himself a federalist, and a friend to his country : he will 
 be called by others infamous," <fec. 
 
 Sir, the spirit of the people sunk under these appeals. Such was the effect 
 produced by them on the public mind, that the very agents of the government 
 (as appears from their public advertisements, now before me) could not obtain 
 loans without a pledge that "the names of the subscribers should not be 
 known." Here are the advertisements : " The names of all subscribers " (say 
 
 * 2d Dodson s Admiralty Reports, 48. 13th Mass. Reports, 26. 
 
168 
 
 Gilbert and Dean, the brokers employed by government) " shall be known 
 only to the undersigned." As if those who came forward to aid their coun 
 try, in the hour of her utmost need, were engaged in some dark and foul con 
 spiracy, they were assured " that their names should not be known." Can 
 any thing show more conclusively the unhappy state of public feeling which 
 prevailed at that day than this single fact ? Of the same character with these 
 measures was the conduct of Massachusetts in withholding her militia from 
 the service of the United States, and devising measures for withdrawing her 
 quota of the taxes, thereby attempting, not merely to cripple the resources of 
 the country, but actually depriving the government (as far as depended upon 
 her) of all the means of carrying on the war of the bone, and muscle, and 
 sinews of war "of man and steel the soldier and his sword." But it 
 seems Massachusetts was to reserve her resources for herself she was to 
 defend and protect her own shores. And how was that duty performed ? In 
 some places on the coast neutrality was declared, and the enemy was suffered 
 to invade the soil of Massachusetts, and allowed to occupy her territory until 
 the peace, without one effort to rescue it from his grasp. Nay, more while 
 our own government and our rulers were considered as enemies, the troops of 
 the enemy were treated like friends the most intimate commercial relations 
 were established with them, and maintained up to the peace. At this dark 
 period of our national affairs, where was the senator from Massachusetts ? How 
 were his political associates employed ? "Calculating the value of the Union ?" 
 Yes, sir, that was the propitious moment, when our country stood alone, the 
 last hope of the world, struggling for her existence against the colossal power 
 of Great Britain, " concentrated in one mighty effort to crush us at a blow ; " 
 that was the chosen hour to revive the grand scheme of building up " a great 
 northern confederacy " a scheme which, it is stated in the work before me, 
 had its origin as far back as the year 1796, and which appears never to have 
 been entirely abandoned. 
 
 In the language of the writers of that day, (1796,) "rather than have a 
 constitution such as the anti-federalists were contending for, (such as w r e are 
 now contending for,) the Union ought to be dissolved ;" and to prepare the 
 way for that measure, the same methods were resorted to then that have 
 always been relied on for that purpose, exciting prejudice against the south. 
 Yes, sir, our northern brethren were then told, " that if the negroes were 
 good for food, their southren masters would claim the right to destroy them 
 at pleasure" (Olive Branch, p. 267.) Sir, in 1814, all these topics were 
 revived. Again we hear of " a northern confederacy." " The slave states by 
 themselves;" " the mountains are the natural boundary:" we want neither 
 " the counsels nor the power of the west," &c., &c. The papers teemed 
 with accusations against the south and the west, and the calls for a dissolution 
 of all connection with them were loud and strong. I cannot consent to go 
 through the disgusting details. But to show the height to which the spirit 
 of disaffection was carried, I will take you to the temple of the living God, 
 and show you that sacred place, which should be devoted to the extension 
 of " peace on earth and good will towards men," where " one day s truce 
 ought surely to be allowed to dissensions and animosities of mankind," con 
 verted into a fierce arena of political strife, where, from the lips of the priest, 
 standing between the horns of the altar, there went forth the most terrible 
 denunciations against all who should be true to their country in the hour of 
 her utmost need. 
 
 " If you do not wish," said a reverend clergyman, in a sermon preached in 
 
159* 
 
 Boston, on the 23d July, 1812, "to become the slaves of those who own 
 slaves, and who are themselves the slave of French slaves, you must either, 
 in the language of the day, CUT THE CONNECTION, cr so far alter the national 
 compact as to insure to yourselves a clue share in the government." [Olive 
 Branch, p. 319.] "The Union," says the same writer, [p. 320,] "has been 
 long since virtually dissolved, and it is full time that this part of the disunited 
 states should take care of itself." 
 
 Another reverend gentleman, pastor of a church at Medford, [p. 321,] 
 issues his anathema " LET HIM STAND ACCURSED" against all, all who, by 
 their " personal services," for " loans of money," " conversation," or " writing," 
 or " influence," give countenance or support to the unrighteous war, in the 
 following terms : " That man is an accomplice in the wickedness he loads 
 his conscience with the blackest crimes he brings the guilt of blood upon 
 his soul, and in the sight of God and his law, he is a MURDERER. 
 
 One or two more quotations, sir, and I shall have done. A reverend 
 doctor of divinity, the pastor of a church at Byfield, Massachusetts, on the 
 7th of April, 1814, thus addresses his flock, [p. 321 :] " The Israelites became 
 weary of yielding the fruit of their labor to pamper their splendid tyrants. 
 They left their political woes. THEY SEPARATED; where is our Moses? 
 Where the rod of his miracles ? Where is our Aaron ? Alas ! no voice from 
 the burning bush has directed them here." 
 
 " We must trample on the mandates of despotism, or remain slaves for 
 ever," [p. 322.] "You must drag the chains of Virginian despotism, unless 
 you discover some other mode of escape." " Those Western States which 
 have been violent for this abominable war those states which have thirsted 
 for blood God has given them blood to drink." [p. 323.] Mr. President, 
 I can go no further. The records of the day are full of such sentiments, 
 issued from the press, spoken in public assemblies, poured out from the sacred 
 desk. God forbid, sir, that I should charge the people of Massachusetts with 
 participating in these sentiments. The sovith and the west had there their 
 friends men who stood by their country, though encompassed all around 
 by their enemies. The senator from Masschusetts [Mr. Silsbee] was one of 
 them : the senator from Connecticut [Mr. Foot] was another; and there are 
 others now on this floor. The sentiments I have read were the sentiments 
 of a party embracing the political associates of the gentleman from Massachu 
 setts. If they could only be found in the columns of a newspaper, in a few 
 occasional pamphlets, issued by men of intemperate feeling, I should not con 
 sider them as affording any evidence of the opinions even of the peace party 
 of New England. But, sir, they were the common language of that day; 
 they pervaded the whole land; they were issued from the legislative hall, 
 from the pulpit, and the press. Our books are full of them; and there is no 
 man who now hears me but knows that they were the sentiments of a party, 
 by whose members they were promulgated. Indeed, no evidence of this 
 would seem to be required beyond the fact that such sentiments found their 
 way even into the pulpits of New England. What must be the state of pub 
 lic opinion, where any respectable clergyman would venture to preach, and 
 to print, sermons containing the sentiments I have quoted ? I doubt not the 
 piety or moral worth of these gentlemen. I am told they were respectable 
 and pious men. But they were men, and they "kindled in a common blaze." 
 And now, sir, I must be suffered to remark that, at this awful and melancholy 
 period of our national history, the gentleman from Massachusetts, who now 
 manifests so great a devotion to the Union, and so much anxiety lest it 
 
160 
 
 should be endangered from the south, was " with his brother in Israel." Ho 
 saw all these things passing before his eyes he heard these sentiments 
 uttered all around him. I do not charge that gentleman with any partici 
 pation in these acts, or with approving of these sentiments. 
 
 But I will ask, why, if he was animated by the same sentiments then which 
 he now professes, if he can " augur disunion at a distance, and snuft tip re 
 bellion in every tainted breeze," why did he not at that day, exert his great 
 talents and acknowledged influence with the political associates by whom lie 
 was surrounded, and who then, as DOW, looked up to him for guidance and 
 direction, in allaying this general excitement, in pointing out to his deluded 
 friends the^alue of the Union, in instructing them that, instead of looking 
 " to some prophet to lead them out of the land of Egypt," they should 
 become reconciled to their brethren, and unite with them in the support of a 
 just and necessary war ? Sir, the gentleman mnst excuse me for saying, that 
 if the records of our country afforded any evidence that he had pursued such 
 a course, then, if we could find it recorded in the history of those times, that 
 like the immortal Dexter, he had breasted that mighty torrent which was 
 sweeping before it all that was great and valuable in our political institutions, 
 if like him he had stood by his country in opposition to his party, sir, we 
 would, like little children, listen to his precepts, and abide by his counsels. 
 
 As soon as the public mind was sufficiently prepared for the measure, the 
 celebrated Hartford Convention was got up; not as the act of a few unauthor 
 ized individuals, but by authority of the legislature of Massachusetts; and, as 
 has been shown by the able historian of that convention, in accordance with 
 the views and wishes of the party of which it was the organ. Now, sir, I do 
 not desire to call in question the motives of the gentlemen who composed that 
 assembly. I know many of them to be in private life accomplished and 
 honorable men, and I doubt not there were some among them who did not 
 perceive the dangerous tendency of their proceedings. I will even go further, 
 and say, that if the authors of the Hartford Convention believed that " gross, 
 deliberate, and palpable violations of the constitution" had taken place, utterly 
 destructive of their rights and interests, I should be the last man to deny their 
 rights to resort to any constitutional measures for redress. But, sir, in any 
 view of the case, the time when and the circumstances under which that con 
 vention assembled, as well as the measures recommended, render their con 
 duct, in my opinion, wholly indefensible. Let us contemplate, for a moment, 
 the spectacle then exhibited to the view of the world. I will not go over the 
 disasters of the war, nor describe the difficulties in which the government was 
 involved. It will be recollected that its credit was nearly gone, Washington 
 had fallen, the whole coast was blockaded, and an immense force, collected in 
 the West Indies, was about to make a descent, which it was supposed we had 
 no means of resisting. In this awful state of our public affairs, when the 
 government seemed almost to be tottering on its base, when Great Britain, 
 relieved from all her other enemies, had proclaimed her purpose of " reducing 
 us to unconditional submission," we beheld the peace party of New England 
 (in the language of the work before us) pursuing a course calculated to do 
 more injury to their country and to render England more effective service 
 than all her armies." Those who could not find it in their hearts to rejoice 
 at our victories sang Te Deum at the King s Chapel in Boston, for the restora 
 tion of the Bourbons. Those who could not consent to illuminate their dwell 
 ings for the capture of the Guerriere could give no visible tokens of their joy 
 at the fall of Detroit. The " beacon fires" of their hills were lighted up, not 
 
161 
 
 for the encouragement of their friends, but as signals to the enemy ; and in 
 the gloomy hours of midnight, the very lights burned blue. Such were the 
 dark and portentous signs of the times, which ushered into being the renowned 
 Hartford Convention. That convention met, and, from their proceedings, it 
 appears that their chief object was to keep back the men and money of New 
 England from the service of the Union, and to effect radical changes in the 
 government changes that can never be effected without a dissolution of the 
 Union. 
 
 Let us now, sir, look at their proceedings. I read from "A Short Account 
 of the Hartford Convention," (written by one of its members,) a very rare 
 book, of which I was fortunate enough, a few years ago, to obtain a copy. 
 [Here Mr. H. read from the proceedings.*] 
 
 It is unnecessary to trace the matter further, or to ask what would have 
 been the next chapter in this history, if the measures recommended had been 
 carried into effect; and if, with the men and money of New.England withheld 
 
 * It appears at p. 6 of the "Account " that, by a vote of the House of RepreBenta- 
 tives of Massachusetts, (260 to 290,) delegates to this convention were ordered to be 
 appointed to consult upon the subject " of their public grievances and concerns," and 
 upon. " the best means of preserving their resources," and for procuring a revision of 
 the constitution of the United States, " more effectually to secure the support and at 
 tachment of all the people, by placing all upon the basis of fair representation." 
 
 The convention assembled at Hartford on the 15th December, 1814. On the next 
 day it was 
 
 Resolved, That the most inviolable secrecy shall be observed by each member of 
 this convention, including the secretary, as to all propositions, debates and proceedings 
 thereof, until this injunction shall be suspended or altered. 
 
 On the 24th tf December, the committee appointed to prepare and report a general 
 project of such measures as may be proper lor the convention to adopt, reported, 
 among other things, 
 
 " 1. That it was expedient to recommend to the legislatures of the states the adop 
 tion of the most effectual and decisive measures to protect the militia of the states 
 from the usurpations contained in these proceedings." [The proceedings of Congress 
 and tne executive, in relation to the militia and the war.] 
 
 " 2. That it was expedient also to prepare a statement, exhibiting the necessity 
 which the improvidence and inability of the general government have imposed upon, 
 the states of providing for their own defence, and the impossibility of their dis 
 charging this duty, and at the same time fulfilling the requisitions of the general 
 government, and also to recommend to the legislatures of the several states to make 
 provision for mutual defence, and to make an earnest application to the government 
 of the United States, with a view to some arrangement whereby the states may be 
 enabled to retain a portion of the taxes levied by Congress, for the purposes of self- 
 defence, and for the reimbursement of expenses already incurred on account of the 
 United States. 
 
 " 3. That it is expedient to recommend to the several state legislatures certain, 
 amendments to the constitution, viz., 
 
 That the power to declare or make war, by the Congress of the United States, be 
 restricted. 
 
 That it is expedient to attempt to make provision for restraining Congress in the 
 exercise of an unlimited power to malte new states, and admit them into the Union. 
 
 " That an amendment be proposed respecting slave representation aud slave taxa 
 tion." 
 
 On the 29th of December, 1814, it was proposed "that the capacity of naturalized 
 citizens to hold oftices of trust, honor, or profit ought to be restrained," <fec. 
 
 The subsequent proceedings are not given at large. But it seems that the report 
 of the committee was adopted, and also a recommendation of certain measures (of the 
 character of which we are not informed) to the states for their mutual defence ; and 
 having voted that the injunction of secrecy, in regard to all the debates and proceed 
 ings of the convention, (except so far as relates to the re port fin ally adopted,) be con 
 tinued, the convention adjourned sine die, out, as it was supposed, to meet again whea 
 circumstances should require it. 
 
 11 
 
162 
 
 
 
 from the government of the United States, she had been withdrawn from the 
 war; if New Orleans had fallen into the hands of the enemy; and if, without 
 troops and almost destitute of money, the Southern and the Western States 
 had been thrown upon their own resources, for the prosecution of the war, 
 and the recovery of New Orleans. 
 
 SiL whatever may have been the issue of the contest^ the Union must have 
 been dissolved. But a wise and just Providence, which " shapes our ends, 
 roughhew them as we will," gave us the victory, and crowned our efforts with 
 a glorious peace. The ambassadors of Hartford were seen retracing their 
 steps from Washington, " the bearers of the glad tidings of great joy." Cour 
 age and patriotism triumphed the country was saved the Union was pre 
 served. And are we, Mr. President, who stood by our country then, who 
 threw open our coffers, who bared our bosoms, who freely perilled all in that 
 conflict, to be reproached with want of attachment to the Union ? If, sir, we 
 are to have lessons of patriotism read to us, they must come from a different 
 quarter. The senator from Massachusetts, who is now so sensitive on all sub 
 jects connected with the Union, seems to have a memory forgetful of the 
 political events that have passed away. I must therefore refresh his recollec 
 tion a little further on these subjects. The history of disunion has been writ 
 ten by one whose authority stands too high with the American people to be 
 questioned ; I mean Thomas Jefferson. I know not how the gentleman may 
 receive this authority. When that great and good man occupied the presi 
 dential chair, I believe he commanded no portion of the gentleman s respect. 
 
 I hold in my hand a celebrated pamphlet on the embargo, in which 
 language is held, in relation to Mr. Jefferson, which my respect for his mem 
 ory will prevent me from reading, unless any gentleman should call for it. 
 But the senator from Massachusetts has since joined in singing hosannas to 
 his name ; he has assisted at his apotheosis, and has fixed him as " a brilliant 
 star in the clear upper sky." I hope, therefore, he is now prepared to receive 
 with deference and respect the high authority of Mr. Jefferson. In the fourth 
 volume of his Memoirs, which has just been issued from the press, we have the 
 following history of disunion from the pen of that illustrious statesman : " Mr. 
 Adams called on me pending the embargo, and while endeavors were making 
 to obtain its repeal : he spoke of the dissatisfaction of the eastern portion of 
 our confederacy with the restraints of the embargo then existing, and their 
 restlessness under it; that there was nothing which might not be attempted 
 to rid themselves of it; that he had information of the most unquestionable 
 authority, that certain citizens of the Eastern States (I think he named Mas 
 sachusetts particularly) were in negotiation with agents of the British govern 
 ment, the object of which was an agreement that the New England States 
 should take no further part in the war (the commercial war, the * war of re 
 strictions, as it was called) then going on, and that, without formally declaring 
 their separation from the Union, they should withdraw from all aid and obe 
 dience to them, &c. From that moment," says Mr. J., " I saw the necessity 
 of abandoning it, [the embargo,] and, instead of effecting our purpose by this 
 peaceful measure, we must fight it out or break the Union." In another letter, 
 Mr. Jefferson adds, " I doubt whether a single fact known to the world will 
 carry as clear conviction to it of the correctness of our knowledge of the trea 
 sonable views of the federal party of that day, as that disclosed by this, the 
 most nefarious and daring attempt to dissever the Union, of which the Hart 
 ford Convention was a subsequent chapter; and both of these having failed, 
 consolidation becomes the fourth chapter of the next book of their history. 
 
163 
 
 But this opens with a vast accession of strength, from their younger recruits, 
 who, having nothing in them of the feelings and principles of 76, now look 
 to a single and splendid government, &c., riding and ruling over the plundered 
 ploughman and beggared yeomanry." (Vol. iv. pp. 419, 422.) 
 
 The last chapter, says Mr. Jefferson, of that history, is to be found in the 
 conduct of those who are endeavoring to bring about consolidation; aye, sir, 
 that very consolidation for which the gentleman from Massachusetts is- con 
 tending the exercise by the federal government of powers not delegated in 
 relation to "internal improvements" and "the protection of manufactures." 
 And why, sir, does Mr. Jefferson consider consolidation as leading directly to 
 disunion ? Because he knew that the exercise, by the federal government, of 
 the powers contended for, would make this " a government without limitation 
 of powers," the submission to which he considered as a greater evil than dis 
 union itself. There is one chapter in this history, however, which Mr. ^ Jeffer 
 son has not filled up ; and I must therefore supply the deficiency. It is to be 
 found in the protests made by New England against the acquisition of Louis 
 iana. In relation to that subject, the New England doctrine is thus laid down 
 by one of her learned doctors of that day, now a doctor of laws, at the head 
 of the great literary institution of the east; I mean Josiah Quincy, president 
 of Harvard College. I quote from the speech delivered by that gentleman 
 on the floor of Congress, on the occasion of the admission of Louisiana into 
 the Union. 
 
 " Mr. Quincy repeated and justified a remark he had made, which, to save 
 all misapprehension, he had committed to writing in the following words : If 
 this bill passes, it is my deliberate opinion that it is virtually a dissolution of 
 the Union ; that it will free the States from their moral obligation ; and as it 
 will be the right of all, so it will be the duty of some, to prepare for a sepa 
 ration, amicably if they can, violently if they must." 
 
 Mr. President, I wish it to be distinctly understood, that all the remarks I 
 have made on this subject are intended to be exclusively applied to a party, 
 which I have described as the " peace party of New England" embracing 
 the political associates of the senator from Massachusetts a party which 
 controlled the operations of that state during the embargo and the war, and 
 who are justly chargeable with all the measures I have reprobated. Sir, 
 nothing has been further from my thoughts than to impeach the character or 
 conduct of the people of New; England. For their steady habits and hardy- 
 virtues I trust I entertain a becoming respect. I fully subscribe to the truth 
 of the description given before the revolution, by one whose praise is the high 
 est eulogy, " that the perseverance of Holland, the activity of France, and the 
 dexterous and firm sagacity of English enterprise, have been more than 
 equalled by this recent people." Hardy, enterprising, sagacious, industrious, 
 and moral, the people of New England of the present day are worthy of iheir 
 ancestors. Still less, Mr. President, has it been my intention to say anything 
 that could be construed into a want of respect for that party, who, trampling 
 on all narrow, sectional feeling, have been true to their principles in the worst 
 of times; I mean the democracy of New England. 
 
 Sir, I will declare that, highly as I appreciate the democracy of the south, 
 I consider even higher praise to be due to the democracy of New England, 
 v, ho have maintained their principles " through good add through evil report," 
 who, at every period of our national history, have stood up manfully for " their 
 country, their whole country, and nothing but their country." In the great 
 political revolution of 98, they were found united with the democracy of the 
 
164 
 
 south, marching under the banner of the constitution, led on by the patriarch 
 of liberty, in search of the land of political promise, which they lived not only 
 to behold, but to possess and to enjoy. Again, sir, in the darkest and most 
 gloomy period of the war, when our country stood single-handed against " the 
 conqueror of the conquerors of the world," when all about and around them 
 was dark and dreary, disastrous and discouraging, they stood a Spartan band 
 in that narrow pass, where the honor of their country was to be defended, or 
 to find its grave. And in the last great struggle, involving, as we believe, the 
 very existence of the principle of popular sovereignty, where were the demo 
 cracy of New England ? Where they always have been found, sir, struggling 
 side by side, with their brethren of the south and the west, for popular rights, 
 and assisting in that glorious triumph, by which the man of the people was 
 elevated to the highest office in their gift. 
 
 Who, then, Mr. President, are the true friends of the Union ? Those who 
 would confine the federal government strictly within the limits prescribed by 
 the constitution ; who would preserve to the states and the people all powers 
 not expressly delegated ; who would make this a federal and not a national 
 Union, and who, administering the government in a spirit of equal justice, 
 would make it a blessing, and not a curse. And who are its enemies ? Those 
 who are in favor of consolidation ; who are constantly stealing power from the 
 states, and adding strength to the federal government; who, assuming an un 
 warrantable jurisdiction over the states and the people, undertake to regulate 
 the whole industry and capital of the country. But, sir, of all descriptions 
 of men, I consider those as the worst enemies of the Union, who sacrifice the 
 equal rights which belong to every member of the confederacy to combina 
 tions of interested majorities, for personal or political objects. But the gentle 
 man apprehends no evil from the dependence of the states on the federal 
 government; he can see no danger of corruption from the influence of money 
 or of patronage. Sir, I know that it is supposed to be a wise saying that 
 "patronage is a source of weakness;" and in support of that maxim, it has 
 been said, that " every ten appointments make a hundred enemies." But I 
 am rather inclined to think, with the eloquent and sagacious orator now repo 
 sing on his laurels on the banks of the Roanoke, that " the power of confer 
 ring favors creates a crowd of dependants;" he gave a forcible illustration of 
 the truth of the remark, when he told us of the effect of holding up the savory 
 morsel to the eager eyes of the hungry hounds gathered around his door. It 
 mattered not whether the gift was bestowed on Towzer or Sweetlips, " Tray, 
 Blanch, or Sweetheart;" while held in suspense, they were all governed by a 
 nod, and when the morsel was bestowed, the expectation of the favors of to 
 morrow kept up the subjection of to-day. 
 
 The senator from Massachusetts, in denouncing what he is pleased to call 
 the Carolina doctrine, has attempted to throw ridicule upon the idea that a 
 state has any constitutional remedy, by the exercise of its sovereign authority, 
 against "a gross, palpable, and deliberate violation of the constitution." He 
 calls it " an idle " or " a ridiculous notion," or something to that effect, and 
 added, that it would make the Union a u mere rope of sand." Now, sir, as 
 the gentleman has not condescended to enter into any examination of the 
 question, and has been satisfied with throwing the weight of his authority 
 into the scale, I do not deem it necessary to do more than to throw into the 
 opposite scale the authority on which South Carolina relies; and there, for the 
 present, I am perfectly willing to leave the controversy. The South Carolina 
 doctrine, that is to say, the doctrine contained in an exposition reported by a 
 
165 
 
 committee of the legislature in December, 1828, and published by their 
 authority, is the good old republican doctrine of 98 the doctrine of the 
 celebrated "Virginia Resolutions" of that year, and of "Madison s Report" 
 of 99. It will be recollected that the legislature of Virginia, in December, 
 98, took into consideration the alien and sedition laws, then considered by all 
 republicans as a gross violation of the constitution of the United States, and 
 on that day passed, among others, the following resolutions : 
 
 " The General Assembly doth explicitly and peremptorily declare, that it 
 views the powers of the federal government, as resulting from the compact to 
 which the states are parties, as limited by the plain sense and intention of the 
 instrument constituting that compact, as no further valid than they are author 
 ized by the grants enumerated in that compact; and that in case of a delibe 
 rate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of other powers not granted by the said 
 compact, the states who are parties thereto have the right, and are in duty 
 bound, to interpose for arresting the progress of the evil, and for maintaining, 
 within their respective limits, the authorities, rights, and liberties appertaining 
 to them." 
 
 In addition to the above resolution, the General Assembly of Virginia 
 " appealed to the other states, in the confidence that they would concur with 
 that commonwealth, that the acts aforesaid [the alien and sedition laws] are 
 unconstitutional, and that the necessary and proper measures would be taken 
 by each for co-operating with Virginia in maintaining unimpaired the author 
 ities, rights, and liberties reserved to the states respectively, or to the people." 
 
 The legislatures of several of the New England States, having, contrary to 
 the expectation of the legislature of Virginia, expressed their dissent from 
 these doctrines, the subject came up again for consideration during the session 
 of 1799, 1800, when it was referred to a select committee, by whom was 
 made that celebrated report which is familiarly known as " Madison s Report," 
 and which deserves to last as long as the constitution itself. In that report, 
 which was subsequently adopted by the legislature, the whole subject was de 
 liberately re-examined, and the objections urged against the Virginia doctrines 
 carefully considered. The result was, that the legislature of Virginia re-affirmed 
 all the principles laid down in the resolutions of 1798, and issued to the world 
 that admirable report which has stamped the character of Mr. Madison as 
 the preserver of that constitution which he had contributed so largely to create 
 and establish. I will here quote from Mr. Madison s report one or two passa 
 ges which bear more immediately on the point in controversy. "The resolu 
 tions, having taken this view of the federal compact, proceed to infer that in 
 case of a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of other powers, not 
 granted by the said compact, the states who are parties thereto have the right^ 
 and are in duty bound, to interpose for arresting the progress of the evil, and 
 for maintaining, within their respective limits, the authorities, rights, and lib 
 erties appertaining to them. " 
 
 " It appears to your committee to be a plain principle, founded in common 
 sense, illustrated by common practice, and essential to the nature of compacts, 
 that, where resort can be had to no tribunal superior to the authority of the 
 parties, the parties themselves must be the rightful judges in the last resort, 
 whether the bargain made has been pursued or violated. The constitution of 
 the United States was formed by the sanction of the states, given by each in 
 its sovereign capacity. It adds to the stability and dignity, as well as to the 
 authority, of the constitution, that it rests upon this legitimate and solid found 
 ation. The states, then, being the parties to the constitutional compact, and 
 
166 
 
 in their sovereign capacity, it follows of necessity that there can be no tribunal 
 above their authority, to decide, in the last resort, whether the compact made 
 by them be violated, and consequently that, as the parties to it, they must 
 themselves decide, in the last resort, such questions as may be of sufficient 
 magnitude to require their interposition." 
 
 " The resolution has guarded against any misapprehension of its object by 
 expressly requiring for such an interposition * the case of a deliberate, palpable, 
 and dangerous breach of the constitution, by the exercise of powers not granted 
 by it. It must be a case, not of a light and transient nature, but of a nature 
 dangerous to the great purposes for which the constitution was established. 
 
 " But the resolution has done more than guard against misconstruction, by 
 expressly referring to cases of a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous nature. It 
 specifies the object of the interposition, which it contemplates, to be solely 
 that of arresting the progress of the evil of usurpation, and of maintaining the 
 authorities, rights, and liberties appertaining to the states, as parties to the 
 constitution. 
 
 " From this view of the resolution, it would seem inconceivable that it can 
 incur any just disapprobation from those who, laying aside all momentary 
 impressions, and recollecting the genuine source and object of the federal 
 constitution, shall candidly and accurately interpret the meaning of the Gen 
 eral Assembly. If the deliberate exercise of dangerous powers, palpably 
 withheld by the constitution, could not justify the parties to it in interposing 
 even so far as to arrest the progress of the evil, and thereby to preserve the 
 constitution itself, as well as to provide for the safety of the parties to it, there 
 would be an end to all relief from usurped power, and a direct subversion of 
 the rights specified or recognized under all the state constitutions, as well as 
 a plain denial of the fundamental principles on which our independence itself 
 was declared." 
 
 But, sir, our authorities do not stop here. The state of Kentucky responded 
 to Virginia, and on the 10th November, 1798, adopted those celebrated reso 
 lutions, well known to have been penned by the author of the Declaration 
 of American Independence. In those resolutions, the legislature of Kentucky 
 declare, " that the government created by this compact was not made the ex 
 clusive or final judge of the extent of the powers delegated to itself, since that 
 would have made its discretion, and not the constitution, the measure of its 
 powers ; but that, as in all other cases of compact among parties having no 
 common judge, each party has an equal right to judge, for itself, as well of 
 infractions as of the mode and measure of redress." 
 
 At the ensuing session of the legislature, the subject was re-examined, and 
 on the 14th of November, 1799, the resolutions of the preceding year were 
 deliberately re-affirmed, and it was, among other things, solemnly declared, 
 " That, if those who administer the general government be permitted to 
 transgress the limits fixed by that compact, by a total disregard to the special 
 delegations of power therein contained, an annihilation of the state govern 
 ments, and the erection upon their ruins of a general consolidated govern 
 ment, will be the inevitable consequence. That the principles of construction 
 contended for by sundry of the state legislatures, that the general government 
 is the exclusive judge of the extent of the powers delegated to it, stop nothing 
 short of despotism ; since the discretion of those who administer the govern 
 ment, and not the constitution, would be the measure of their powers. That 
 the several states who formed that instrument, being sovereign and independ 
 ent, have the unquestionable right to judge of ^its infraction, and that a mil- 
 
167 
 
 lification, by those sovereignties, of all unauthorized acts done under color of 
 that instrument, is the rightful remedy." 
 
 Time and experience confirmed Mr. Jefferson s opinion on this all important 
 point. In the year 1821, he expressed himself in this emphatic manner : " It 
 is a fatal heresy to suppose that either our state governments are superior to 
 the federal, or the federal to the state; neither is authorized literally to decide 
 which belongs to itself or its copartner in government; in differences of opinion, 
 between their different sets of public servants, the appeal is to neither, but to 
 their employers peaceably assembled by their representatives in convention." 
 
 The opinion of Mr. Jefferson on this subject has been so repeatedly and so 
 solemnly expressed, that they may be said to have been among the most fixed 
 and settled convictions of his mind. 
 
 In the protest prepared by him for the legislature of Virginia, in December, 
 1825, in respect to the powers exercised by the federal government in relation 
 to the tariff and internal improvements, which he declares to be "usurpations 
 of the powers retained by the states, mere interpolations into the compact, 
 and direct infractions of it," he solemnly reasserts all the principles of the 
 Virginia Resolutions of 98, protests against " these acts of the federal branch 
 of the government as null and void, and delares that, although Virginia would 
 consider a dissolution of the Union as among the greatest calamities that could 
 befall them, yet it is not the greatest. There is one yet greater submission 
 to a government of unlimited powers. It is only when the hope of this shall 
 become absolutely desperate, that further forbearance could not be indulged." 
 
 In his letter to Mr. Giles, written about the same time, he says, 
 
 " I see as you do, and with the deepest affliction, the rapid strides with 
 which the federal branch of our government is advancing towards the usur 
 pation of all the rights reserved to the states, and the consolidation in itself 
 of all powers, foreign and domestic, and that too by constructions which leave 
 no limits to their powers, &c. Under the power to regulate commerce, they 
 assume, indefinitely, that also over agriculture and manufactures, &c. Under 
 the authority to establish post roads, they claim that of cutting down moun 
 tains for the construction of roads, and digging canals, &c. And what is our 
 resource for the preservation of the constitution ? Reason and argument 1 
 You might as well reason and argue with the marble columns encircling them, 
 &c. Are we then to stand to our arms with the hot-headed Georgian ? No ; 
 [and I say no, and South Carolina has said no;] that must be the last re 
 source. We must have patience and long endurance with our brethren, <fec., 
 and separate from our companions only when the sole alternatives left are 
 a dissolution of our Union with them, or submission to a government without 
 limitation of powers. Between these two evils, when we must make a choice, 
 there can be no hesitation." 
 
 Such, sir, are the high and imposing authorities in support of " the Caro 
 lina doctrine," which is, in fact, the doctrine of the Virginia Resolutions of 
 1798. 
 
 Sir, at that day the whole country was divided on this very question. It 
 formed the line of demarcation between the federal and republican parties; 
 and the great political revolution which then took place turned upon the veiy 
 questions involved in these resolutions. That question was decided by the 
 people, and by that decision the constitution was, in the emphatic language 
 of Mr. Jefferson, " saved at its last gasp." I should suppose, sir, it would re 
 quire more self-respect than any gentleman here would be willing to assume, 
 DO treat lightly doctrines derived from such high resources. Resting on 
 
168 
 
 authority like this, I will ask gentlemen whether South Carolina has nci 
 manifested a high regard for the Union, when, under a tyranny ten times more 
 grievous than the alien and sedition laws, she has hitherto gone no further 
 than to petition, remonstrate, and to solemnly protest {gainst a series of 
 measures which she believes to be wholly unconstitutional and utterly 
 destructive of her interests. Sir, South Carolina has not gone one step further 
 than Mr. Jefferson himself was disposed to go, in relation to the present sub 
 ject of our present complaints not a step further than the statesmen from 
 New England were disposed to go, under similar circumstances; no further 
 than the senator from Massachusetts himself once considered as within " the 
 limits of a constitutional opposition." The doctrine that it is the right of a 
 state to judge of the violations of the constitution on the part of the federal 
 government, and to protect her citizens from the operations of unconstitutional 
 laws, was held by the enlightened citizens of Boston, who assembled in 
 Faneuil Hall, on the 25th of January, 1809. They state, in that cele 
 brated memorial, that "they looked only to the state legislature, who were 
 competent to devise relief against the unconstitutional acts of the general 
 government. That your power (say they) is adequate to that object, is evi 
 dent from the organization of the confederacy." 
 
 A distinguished senator from one of the New England States, (Mr. Hill- 
 house,) in a speech delivered here, on a bill for enforcing the embargo, de 
 clared, " I feel myself bound in conscience to declare, (lest the blood of those 
 who shall fall in the execution of this measure shall be on my head,) that I con 
 sider this to be an act which directs a mortal blow at the liberties of my 
 country an act containing unconstitutional provisions, to which the people 
 are not bound to submit, and to which, in my opinion, they will not submit." 
 
 And the senator from Massachusetts himself, in a speech delivered on the 
 same subject in the other house, said, " This opposition is constitutional and 
 legal ; it is also conscientious. It rests on settled and sober conviction, that 
 such policy is destructive to the interests of the people, and dangerous to the 
 being of government. The experience of every day confirms these sentiments. 
 Men who act from such motives are not to be discouraged by trifling obstacles, 
 nor awed by any dangers. They know the limit of constitutional opposition ; 
 up to that limit, at their own discretion, they will walk, and walk fearlessly." 
 How " the being of the government" was to be endangered by " constitutional 
 opposition" to the embargo, I leave to the gentleman to explain. 
 
 Thus it will be seen, Mr. President, that the South Carolina doctrine is the 
 republican doctrine of 98 that it was promulgated by the fathers of the 
 faith that it was maintained by Virginia and Kentucky in the worst of 
 times that it constituted the very pivot on which the political revolution 
 of that day turned that it embraces the very principles, the triumph of 
 which, at that time, saved the constitution at its last gasp, and which New 
 England statesmen were not unwilling to adopt, when thev believed them 
 selves to be the victims of unconstitutional legislation. Sir,* as to the doctrine 
 that the federal government is the exclusive judge of the extent as well as the 
 limitations of its powers, it seems to me to be utterly subversive of the 
 sovereignty and independence of the states. It makes but little difference, 
 in my estimation, whether Congress or the Supreme Court are invested with 
 this power. If the federal government, in all, or any of its departments, is to 
 prescribe the limits of its own authority, and the states are bound to submit 
 to the decision, and are not to be allowed to examine and decide for them 
 selves, when the barriers of the constitution shall be overleaped, this is practi- 
 
169 
 
 cally " a government without limitation of powers." The states are at once 
 reduced to mere petty corporations, and the people are entirely at your mercy. 
 I have but one more word to add. In all the efforts that have been made 
 by South Carolina to resist the unconstitutional laws which Congress has ex 
 tended over them, she has kept steadily in view the preservation of the Union, 
 by the only means by which she believes it can be long preserved a firm, 
 manly, and steady resistance against usurpation. The measures of the federal 
 government have, it is true, prostrated her interests, and will soon involve the 
 vhole south in irretrievable ruin. But even this evil, great as it is, is not the 
 chief ground of our complaints. It is the principle involved in the contest 
 a principle which, substituting the discretion of Congress for the limitations 
 of the constitution, brings the states and the people to the feet of the federal 
 government, and leaves them nothing they can call their own. Sir, if the 
 measures of the federal government were less oppressive, we should still strive 
 against this, usurpation. The south is acting on a principle she has always 
 held sacred resistance to unauthorized taxation. These, sir, are the princi 
 ples which induced the immortal Hampden to resist the payment of a tax of 
 twenty shillings. Would twenty shillings have ruined his fortune ? No ! 
 but the payment of half twenty shillings, on the principle on which it was 
 demanded, would have made him a slave. Sir, if acting on these high motives 
 if animated by that ardent love of liberty which has always been the most 
 prominent trait in the southern character we should be hurried beyond the 
 bounds of a cold and calculating prudence, who is there, with one noble and 
 generous sentiment in his bosom, that would not be disposed, in the language 
 of Burke, to exclaim, tt You must pardon something to the spirit of liberty" ! 
 

REPLY TO HAYNE, 
 
 DELIVERED IN SENATE, JANUARY 26, 1830. 
 
 FOLLOWING Mr. HAYNE in the debate, Mr. WEBSTER addressed the 
 Senate as follows : 
 
 Mr. PRESIDENT : When the mariner has been tossed, for many days, in 
 thick weather, and on an unknown sea, he naturally avails himself of the first 
 pause in the storm, the earliest glance of the sun, to take his latitude, and as 
 certain how far the elements have driven him from his true course. Let us 
 imitate this prudence, and before we float farther, refer to the point from 
 which we departed, that we may at least be able to conjecture where we now 
 are. I ask for the reading of the resolution. 
 
 [The Secretary read the resolution as follows : 
 
 " Resolved, That the committee on public lands be instructed to inquire 
 and report the quantity of the public lands remaining unsold within each state 
 and territory, and whether it be expedient to limit, for a certain period, the 
 sales of the public lands to such lands only as have heretofore been offered 
 for sale, and are now subject to entry at the minimum price. And, also, 
 whether the office of surveyor general, and some of the land offices, may not 
 be abolished without detriment to the public interest ; or whether it be ex 
 pedient to adopt measures to hasten the sales, and extend more rapidly the 
 surveys of the public lands."] 
 ^We have thus heard, sir, what the resolution is, which is actually before u$ 
 for consideration ; and it will readily occur to every one that it is almost the 
 only subject about which something has not been said in the speech, running 
 through two days, by which the Senate has been now entertained by the gen 
 tleman from South Carolina, Every topic in the wide range of our public 
 affairs, whether past or present, every thing, general or local, whether be 
 longing to national politics or party politics, seems to have attracted morei 
 or less of the honorable member s attention, save only the resolution before! 
 us. He has spoken of every thing but the public lands. They have escaped 
 his notice. To that subject, in all his excursions, he has not paid even the 
 cold respect of a passing glance. 
 
 When this debate, sir, was to be resumed, on Thursday morning, it so hap 
 pened that it would have been convenient for me to be elsewhere. The hon 
 orable member, however did not incline to put off the discussion to another 
 dav. He had a shot, he said, to return, and he wished to discharge it. That 
 shot, sir, which it was kind thus to inform us was coming, that we might stand 
 out of the way, or prepare ourselves to fall before it, and die with decency, 
 
172 
 
 has now been received. Under all advantages, and with expectation awakened 
 by the tone which preceded it, it has been discharged, and has spent its force. 
 It may become me to say no more of its effect than that, if nobody is found, 
 after all, either killed or wounded by it, it is not the first time in the history 
 of human affairs that the vigor and success of the war have not quite come 
 up to the lofty and sounding phrase of the manifesto. 
 
 The gentleman, sir, in declining to postpone the debate, told the Senate, 
 with the emphasis of his hand upon his heart, that there was something 
 rankling here, which he wished to relieve. [Mr. HAYNE rose and disclaimed 
 having used the word rankling] It would not, Mr. President, be safe for the 
 honorable member to appeal to those around him, upon the question whether 
 he did, in fact, make use of that word. But he may have been unconscious 
 of it. At any rate, it is enough that he disclaims it. But still, with or with 
 out the use of that particular word, he had yet something here, he said, of 
 which he wished to rid himself by an immediate reply. In this respect, sir, 
 I have a great advantage over the honorable gentleman. There is nothing 
 here, sir, which gives me the slighest uneasiness; neither fear, nor anger, nor 
 that which is sometimes more troublesome than either, 1 1 1 e^ ; c< >ns( j o us ness, L ^f 
 having been in the wrong*. There is nothing either ori^inatin-g^ he re, or now 
 received~TTere, by the gentleman s shot. Nothing original, for 1 had not the 
 slightest feeling of disrespect or unkindness towards the honorable member. 
 Some passages, -it is true, had occurred, since our acquaintance in this body, 
 which I could have wished might have been otherwise ; but I had used phil 
 osophy, aud forgotten them. When the honorable member rose, in his first 
 speech, I paid him the respect of attentive listening; and when he sat down, 
 though surprised, and I must say even astonished, at some of his opinions, 
 nothing was farther from my intention than to commence any personal war 
 fare; and through the whole of the few remarks I made in answer, I avoided, 
 studiously and carefully, every thing which I thought possible to be construed 
 into disrespect. And, sir, while there is thus nothing originating here, which 
 I wished at any time, or now wish to discharge, I must repeat, also, that 
 nothing has been received here which rankles, or in any way gives me an 
 noyance. I will not accuse the honorable member of .viplatiii^ the rules of 
 civilized war I will not say that he poisoned his arro^gjCfeut whether his 
 shafts were, or were not, dipped in that which would have abused rankling if 
 they had reached, there was not, as it happened, quite strength enough in the 
 bow to bring them to their mark. If he wishes now to find those shafts, he 
 , must look for them elsewhere; they will not be found fixed ami quivering in 
 . \l the object at which they were aimed. OJ-VCAAA*^ ^^^T^!^^- * 
 *^The honorable member complained that I had slept on^S^peechTui must 
 have slept on it, or not slept at all. The moment the honorable member 
 down, his friend from Missouri rose, and, with much honeyed commendation 
 of the speech, suggested that the impressions which it had produced were 
 charming and delightful to be disturbed by other sentiments or other sounds, 
 and proposed that the Senate should adjourn. Would it have been quite 
 amiable in me, sir, to interrupt this excellent good feeling ? Must I not have 
 been absolutely malicious, if I could have thrust myself forward to destroy 
 sensations thus pleasing ? Was it not much better and kinder, both to sleep 
 upon them myself, and to allow others, also, the pleasure of sleeping upon 
 them ? But if it be meant, by sleeping upon his speech, that I took time to 
 prepare a reply to it, it is quite a mistake ; owing to other engagements, I could 
 not employ even the interval between the, adjournment of the Senate and 
 
 sat / 
 
 ion / 
 too/ 
 
its meeting the next morning in attention to the subject of this debate, 
 Neverthless, sir, the mere matter of fact is undoubtedly true I did sleep 
 on the gentleman s speech, and slept soundly. And 1 slept equally well on 
 his speech of yesterday, to which I am now replying. It is quite possible 
 that, in this respect, also, I possess some advantage over the honorable mem 
 ber, attributable, doubtless, to a cooler temperament on my part ; for in truth 
 I slept upon his speeches remarkably well. But the gentleman inquires why 
 he was made the object of such a reply. Why was he singled out ? If^an 
 attack haj bfP n Q d oil t^ fr^t, hfj he assures us, did not begin it it was 
 {rTe^e^itieman from Missouri. [Sir, I answered the gentleman s speech, because) 
 I happened to hear it; and because, also, I choose to give an answer to that I 
 speech, which, if unanswered, I thought most likely to produce injurious im- 1 
 pressions. I did not stop to inquire who was the original drawer of the bill. I 
 I found a responsible endorser before me, and it was my purpose to hold himj 
 liable, and to bring him to his just responsibility without delay. But, sir, 
 this interrogatory of the honorable member was only introductory to another. 
 He proceeded to ask me whether I had turned upon him in this debate from 
 the consciousness that I should find an overmatch if I ventured on a contest 
 with his friend from Missouri. If, sir, the honorable member, ex gratia 
 modesties, had chosen thus to defer to his friend, and to pay him a compli 
 ment, without intentional disparagement to others, it would have been quite 
 according to the friendly courtesies of debate, and not at all ungrateful to my 
 own feelings. I am not one of those, sir, who esteem any tribute of regard, 
 whether light and occasional, or more serious and deliberate, which may be 
 bestowed on others, as so much unjustly withholden from themselves. But 
 the tone and manner of the gentleman s question, forbid me thus to interpret 
 it. I am not at liberty to consider it as nothing more than a civility to his 
 friend. It had an air of taunt and disparagement, a little of the loftiness of 
 asserted superiority, which does not allow me to pass it over without notice. 
 It was put as a question for me to answer, and so put as if it were difficult for 
 me to answer, whether I deemed the member from Missouri an overmatch for 
 myself in debate here. It seems to me, sir, that is extraordinary language, 
 and an extraordinary tone for the discussions of this body. 
 
 Matches and overmatches! Those terms are more applicable elsewhere 
 than here, and fitter for other assemblies than this. Sir, the gentleman seems 
 to forget where and what we are. IThis is a Senate; a Senate of equals; oi\ 
 men of individual honor and personal character, and of absolute independence. 1 ! 
 We know no masters; we acknowledge no dictators. This is a hall for mu-| 
 tual consultation and discussion, not an arena for the exhibition of champions. 
 I offer myself, sir, as a match for no man ; I throw the challenge of debate lit 
 no man s feet. But, then, sir, since the honorable member has put the ques 
 tion in a manner that calls for an answer, I will give him an answer; and I 
 tell him that, holding myself to be the humblest of the members here, I yet 
 know nothing in the arm of his friend from Missouri, either alone or when 
 aided by the arm of his friend from South Carolina, that need deter even me 
 from espousing whatever opinions I may choose to espouse, from debating 
 whenever I may choose to debate, or from speaking whatever I may see fit to 
 say on the floor of the Senate. Sir, when uttered as matter of commendation 
 or compliment, I should dissent from nothing which the honorable member 
 might say of his friend. Still less do I put forth any pretensions of my own. 
 .But when put to me as matter of taunt, I throw it back, and say to the gen 
 tleman that he could possibly say nothing less likely than such a comparison 
 
174 
 
 to wound my pride of personal character. The anger of its tone rescued the 
 remark from intentional irony, which otherwise, probably, would have been its 
 general acceptation. Bat, sir, if it be imagined that by this mutual quotation 
 and commendation ; if it be supposed that, by casting the characters of the 
 drama, assigning to each his part, to one the attack, to another the cry of 
 onset^ or if it be thought that by a loud and empty vaunt of anticipated 
 victory any laurels are to be won here; if it be imagined, especially, that any 
 or all these things will shake any purpose of mine, I can tell the honorable 
 member, once for all, that he is greatly mistaken, and that he is dealing with 
 one of whose temper and character he has yet much to learn. Sir, I shall 
 not allow myself, on this occasion I hope on no occasion to be betrayed 
 into any loss of temper ; but if provoked, as I trust I never shall allow myself 
 to be, into crimination and recrimination, the honorable member may, perhaps, 
 find that in that contest there will be blows to take as well as blows to give; 
 that others can state comparisons as significant, at least as his own ; and that 
 his impunity may, perhaps, demand of him whatever powers of taunt and 
 sarcasm he may possess. I commend him to a prudent husbandry of his 
 resources. 
 
 "SBut, sir, the coalition ! The coalition ! Aye, " the murdered coalition !" 
 The gentleman asks if I were led or frighted into this debate by the spectre 
 of the coalition. " Was it the ghost of the murdered coalition," he exclaims, 
 " which haunted the member from Massachusetts, and which, like the ghost 
 of Banquo, would never down ?" "The murdered coalition !" Sir, this charge 
 of a coalition, in reference to the late administratiofi, is not original with the 
 honorable member. It did not spring up in the Senate. Whether as a fact, 
 as an argument, or as an embellishment, it is all borrowed. He adopts it, in 
 deed, from a very low origin, and a still lower present condition. It is one of 
 the thousand calumnies with which the press teemed during an excited politi 
 cal canvass. It was a charge of which there was not only no proof or proba 
 bility, but which was, in itself, wholly impossible to be true. No man of com 
 mon information ever believed a syllable of it. Yet it was of that class of 
 falsehoods which, by continued repetition through all the organs of detraction 
 and abuse, are capable of misleading those who are already far misled, and of 
 further fanning passion already kindling into flame. Doubtless it served its 
 day, and, in a greater or less degree, the end designed by it. Having done 
 that, it has sunk into the general mass of stale and loathed calumnies. It is 
 the very cast-off slough of a polluted and shameless press. Incapable of fur 
 ther mischief, it lies in the sewer, lifeless and- despised. It is not now, sir, in 
 the power of the honorable member to give it dignity or*lecency, by attempting 
 to elevate it, and to introduce it into the Senate. He cannot change it from 
 what it is an object of general disgust and scorn. On the contrary, the 
 contact, if he choose to touch it, i-s more likely to drag him down, down, to the 
 place where it lies itself. 
 
 But, sir, the honorable member was not, for other reasons, entirely happy in 
 his allusion to the story of Banquo s murder and Banquo s ghost. It was no , 
 I think, the friends, but the enemies of the murdered Banquo, at whose bid 
 ding his spirit would not down. The honorable gentleman is fresh in his 
 reading of the English classics, andean put me right if I am wrong; but ac 
 cording to my poor recollection, it was at those who had begun with caresses, 
 and ended with foul and treacherous murder, that the gory locks were shaken. 
 The ghost of Banquo, like that of Hamlet, was an honest ghost. It disturbed 
 no innocent man. It knew where its appearance would strike terror, and who 
 
would cry out, A ghost ! It made itself visible in the right quarter, and com- I 
 pelled the guilty, and the conscience-smitten, and none others, to start, with I 
 
 " Prithee, see there ! behold ! look ! lo ! 
 If I stand here, I saw him !" 
 
 Their eyeballs were seared was it not so, sir ? who had thought to shield 
 themselves by concealing their own hand, and laying the imputation of the 
 crime on a low and hireling agency in wickedness ; who had vainly attempted 
 to stifle the workings of their own coward consciences, by circulating, through 
 white lips and chattering teeth, " Thou canst not say I did it !" I have mis 
 read the great poet, if it was those who had no way partaken in the deed of 
 the death, who either found that they were, or feared that they should be, 
 pushed from their stools by the ghost of the slain, or who cried out to a spec 
 tre created by their own fears, and their own remorse, "Avaunt! and quit 
 pur sight !" 
 
 There is another particular, sir, in which the honorable member s quiclT 
 perception of resemblances might, I should think, have seen something in the 
 story of Banquo, making it not altogether a subject of the most pleasant con 
 templation. Those who murdered Banquo, what did they win by it? Sub 
 stantial good? Permanent power? Or disappointment, rather, and sore 
 mortification dust and ashes the common fate of vaulting ambition 
 overleaping itself? Did not even-handed justice, ere long, commend the 
 poisoned chalice to their own lips? Did they not soon find that for another 
 they had " filed their mind ? " that their ambition, though apparently for 
 the moment successful, had but put a barren sceptre in their grasp ? Aye, sir, 
 
 " A barren sceptre in their gripe, 
 
 Thence to le wrenched by an unlineal hand, 
 
 No son f>f theirs succeeding." 
 
 Sir, I need pursue the allusion no further. I leave the honorable gentleman 
 to run it out at his leisure, and to derive from it all the gratification it is cal 
 culated to administer. If he finds himself pleased with the associations, and 
 prepared to be quite satisfied, though the parallel should be entirely completed, 
 I had almost said I am satisfied also but that I shall think of. Yes, sir, I . .. 
 
 In the course of my observations the other day, Mr. President, I paid a 
 passing tribute of respect to a very worthy man, Mr. Dane, of Massachusetts. 
 It so happened that he drew the ordinance of 178 7 for the government of 
 the North-western Territory. A man of so much ability, and so little pretence ; 
 of so great a capacity to do good, and so unmixed a disposition to do it fftr its 
 ewn sake ; a gentleman who acted an important part, forty years ago, in a 
 measure the influence of which is still deeply felt in the very matter which 
 was the subject of debate, might, I thought, receive from me a commendatory 
 recognition. 
 
 But the honorable gentleman was inclined to be facetious on the subject. 
 He was rather disposed to make it a matter of ridicule that I had introduced 
 into the debate the name of one Nathan Ejfeie, of whom he assures us he had 
 never before heard. Sir, if the honorable member had never before heard of 
 Mr. Dane, I am sorry for it. It shows him less acquainted with the public 
 men of the contry than I had supposed. Let me tell him, however, that a 
 
176 
 
 sneer from him at the mention of the name of Mr, Dane is in bad taste. It 
 may well be a high mark of ambition, sir, either with the honorable gentleman 
 or myself, to accomplish as much to make our names known to advantage, 
 and remembered with gratitude, as Mr. Dane has accomplished. But the 
 truth is, sir, I suspect that Mr. Dane lives a little too far north. He is of 
 Massachusetts, and too near the north star to be reached by the honorable 
 gentleman s telescope. If his sphere had happened to range south of Mason 
 and Dixon s line, he might, probably, have come within the scope of his 
 vision I 
 
 I spoke, sir, of the ordinance of 1787, which prohibited slavery in all fu 
 ture times north-west of the Ohio, as a measure of great wisdom and fore 
 sight, and one which had been attended with highly beneficial and permanent 
 consequences. I supposed that on this point no two gentlemen in the Senate 
 could entertain different opinions. But the simple expression of this senti 
 ment has led the gentleman, not only into a labored defence of slavery in the 
 abstract, and on principle, but also into a warm accusation against me, as 
 having attacked the system of slavery now existing in the Southern States. 
 For all this there was not the slightest foundation in any thing said or inti 
 mated by me. I did not utter a single word which any ingenuity conld 
 torture into an attack on the slavery of the South. I said only that it was 
 highly wise and useful in legislating for the north-western country, while it 
 was yet a wilderness, to prohibit the introduction of slaves; and added, that 
 I presumed, in the neighboring state of Kentucky, there was no reflecting and 
 intelligent gentleman who would doubt that, if the same prohibition had been 
 extended, at the same early period, over that commonwealth, her strength and 
 population would, at this day, have been far greater than they are. If these 
 opinions be thought doubtful, they are, nevertheless, I trust, neither extraordi 
 nary nor disrespectful. They attack nobody and menace nobody. And yet, 
 sir, the gentleman s optics have discovered, even in the mere expression of this 
 sentiment, what he calls the very spirit of the Missouri question ! He repre 
 sents me as making an attack on the whole south, and manifesting a spirit 
 which would intefere with and disturb their domestic condition. Sir, this in 
 justice no otherwise surprises me than as it is done here, and done without 
 the slightest pretence of ground for it. I say it only surprises me as being 
 done here ; for I know full well that it is and has been the settled policy of 
 some persons in the south, for years, to represent the people of the north as 
 disposed to interfere with them in their own exclusive and peculiar concerns. 
 This is a delicate and sensitive point in southern feeling ; and of late years it 
 has always been touched, and generally with effect, whenever the object has 
 been to unite the whole south against northern men or northern measures. 
 This feeling, always carefully kept alive, and maintained at too intense a heat 
 to admit discrimination or reflection, is a lever of great power in our political 
 machine. It moves vast bodies, and gives to them one and the same direc 
 tion. But the feeling is without adequate cause, and the suspicion which ex 
 ists wholly groundless. There is not, and never has been, q, Disposition in the 
 n^EthJgJpterfere with these interests of tfresouth. Such interference has 
 never been supposed to be within the poweTor government^ nor has it been 
 in any way attempted. It has always been regarded as a matter of domestic 
 policy, left with the states themselves, and with which the federal government 
 had nothing to do. Certainly, sir, I am, and ever had been, of that opinion. 
 The gentleman, indeed, argues that slavery in the abstract is no evil. Most 
 assuredly I need not say I differ with him altogether and most widely on that 
 
177 
 
 " 
 
 point. I regard domestic slavery as one of the greatest of evils, both moral 
 and political. But, though it be a malady, and whether it be curable, and if 
 so, by what means ; or, on the other hand, whether it be the culnus immedica- 
 bile of the social system, I leave it to those whose right and duty it is to in 
 quire and to decide. And this I believe, sir, is, and uniformly has been, the , 
 sentiment of the north. Let us look a little at the history of this matter. / 
 
 When the present constitution was submitted for the ratification of the peo-V^ 
 pie, there were those who imagined that the powers of the government which 
 it proposed to establish might, perhaps, in some possible mode, be exerted in 
 measures tending to the abolition of slavery. This suggestion would,, of course, 
 attract much attention in the southern conventions. In that of Virginia, 
 Governor Randolph said : 
 
 " I hope there is none here, who, considering the subject in the calm light 
 of philosophy, will make an objection dishonorable to Virginia that, at the 
 moment they are securing the rights of their citizens, an objection is started, 
 that there is a spark of hope that those unfortunate men now hekl in bondage 
 may, by the operation of the general government, be made free." 
 
 At the very first Congress, petitions on the subject were presented, if 1 
 mistake not, from different statee. The Pennsylvania Society for promoting 
 the Abolition of Slavery, took a lead, and laid before Congress a memorial, 
 praying Congress to promote the abolition by such powers as it possessed. 
 This memorial was referred, in the House of Representatives, to a select com 
 mittee, consisting of Mr. Foster, of New Hampshire, Mr. Gerry, of Massachu 
 setts, Mr. Huntington, of Connecticut, Mr. Lawrence, of New York, Mr. Dic 
 kinson, of New Jersey, Mr. Hartley, of Pennsylvania, and Mr. Parker, of 
 Virginia ; all of them, sir, as you will observe, northern men, but the last. 
 This committee made a report, which was committed to a committee of the 
 whole house, and there considered and discussed on several days; and being 
 amended, although in no material respect, it was made to express three distinct 
 propositions on the subjects of slavery and the slave trade. First, in the words 
 of the constitution, that Congress could not, prior to the year 1808, prohibit 
 the migration or importation of such persons as any of the states then existing 
 j should think proper to admit. Second, that Congress had authority to restrain 
 the citizens of the United States from carrying on the African slave trade for 
 the purpose of supplying foreign countries. On this proposition, our early 
 laws against those who engage in that traffic are founded. The third propo 
 sition, and that which bears on the present question, was expressed in the fol 
 lowing terms: 
 
 " Resolved, That Congress have no authority to interfere in the emancipa 
 tion of slaves, or in the treatment of them in any of the states; it remaining 
 with the several states alone to provide rules and regulations therein, which 
 humanity and true policy may require." 
 
 This resolution received the sanction of the House of Representatives so 
 early as March, 1790. And, now, sir, the honorable member will allow mo 
 to remind him, that not only were the select committee who reported the re- 
 . solution, with a single exception, all northern men, but also that of the mem 
 bers then composing the House of Representatives, a large majority, I believe 
 nearly two-thirds, \vere northern men also. 
 
 1 The house agreed to insert these resolutions in its journal; and, from that 
 day to this, it has never been maintained or contended that Congress had any 
 authority to regulate or interfere with the condition of slaves in the several 
 states. No northern gentleman, to my knowledge, has moved any such ques 
 tion in either house of Congress. 
 
178 
 
 fears of the south, whatever fears they might have entertained, were 
 allayed and quieted by this early decision ; and so remained, till they were 
 excited afresh, without cause, but for collateral and indirect purposes. When 
 it became necessary, or was thought so, by some political persons, to find an 
 unvarying ground for the exclusion of northern men from confidence and 
 from lead in the affairs of the republic, then, and not till then, the cry was 
 raised, and the feeling industriously excited, that the influence of northern 
 men in the public councils would endanger the relation of master and slave. 
 For myself, I claim no other merit, than that this gross and enormous injus 
 tice towards the whole north has not wrought upon me to change my opinions, 
 or my political conduct. I hope I am above violating my principles, even 
 under the smart of injury and false imputations. Unjust suspicions and un 
 deserved reproach, whatever pain I may experience from them, will not induce 
 me, I trust, nevertheless, to overstep the limits of constitutional duty, or to 
 encroach on the rights of others. The domestic slavery of the south I leave 
 where I find it in the hands of their own governments. It is their affair, 
 not mine. Nor do I complain of the peculiar effect which the magnitude of 
 that population has had in the distribution of power under this federal govern 
 ment. We know, sir, that the representation of the states in the other house 
 is not equal. We know that great advantage, in that respect, is enjoyed by 
 the slaveholding states; and we know, too, that the intended equivalent for 
 that advantage that is to say, the imposition of direct taxes in the same 
 ratio has become merely nominal ; the habit of the government being al 
 most invariably to collect its revenues from other sources, and in other modes. 
 Nevertheless, I do not complain; nor would I countenance any movement to 
 alter this arrangement of representation. It is the original bargain, the com 
 pact let it stand ; let the advantage of it be fully enjoyed. The Union 
 itself is too full of benefit to be hazarded in propositions for changing its 
 original basis. I go for the constitution as it is, and for the Union as it is. 
 But I am resolved not to submit, in silence, to accusations, either against my 
 self individually, or against the north, wholly unfounded and unjust {accu 
 sations which impute to us a disposition to evade the constitutional compact, 
 and to exteud the power of the government over the internal laws and domes 
 tic condition of the states.} All such accusations, wherever and whenever 
 made, all insinuations of the existence of any such purposes, I know and feel 
 to be groundless and injurious. And we must confide in southern gentlemen 
 themselves ; w r e must trust to those whose integrity of heart and magnanimity 
 of feeling will lead them to a desire to maintain and disseminate truth, and 
 who possess the means of its diffusion with the southern public ; we must 
 leave it to them to disabuse that public of its prejudices. But> in the mean 
 time, for my own part, I shall continue to act justly, whether those towards 
 whom justice is exercised receive it with candor or with contumely. 
 y Having had occasion to recur to the ordinance of 1787, in order to defend 
 myself against the inferences which the honorable member has chosen to draw 
 from my former observations on that subject, I am not willing now entirely to 
 take leave of it without another remark. It need hardly be said, that that 
 paper expresses just sentiments on the great subject of civil and religious liber 
 ty. Such sentiments were common, and abound in all our state papers of 
 that day. But this ordinance did that which was not so common, and which 
 is not, even now, universal ; that is, it set forth and declared, as a high ana 
 linding duty of government itself, to encourage schools and advance the 
 means of education ; on the plain reason that religion, morality and knowledge 
 
 1 
 
179 
 
 are necessary to good government, and to . the happiness of mankind. One 
 observation further. The important provision incorporated into the constitu 
 tion of the United States, and several of those of the states, and recently, as 
 we have seen, adopted into the reformed constitution of Virginia, restraining 
 legislative power, in questions of private right, and from impairing the obliga 
 tion of contracts, is lirst introduced and established, as far as I am informed, 
 as matter of express written constitutional law, in this ordinance of 1787. 
 And I must add, also, in regard to the author of the ordinance, who has not 
 had the happiness to attract the gentleman s notice heretofore, nor to avoid 
 his sarcasm now, that he was chairman of that select committee of the old 
 Congress, whose report first expressed the strong sense of that body, that the 
 old confederation was not adequate to the exigencies of the country, and re 
 commending to the states to send delegates to the convention which formedy 
 the present constitution. ~" / 
 
 An attempt has been made to transfer from the north to the south the 
 honor of this exclusion of slavery from, the North-western Territory. The 
 journal, without argument or comment, refutes such attempt. The session of 
 Virginia was made March, 1784. On the 19th of April following, a com 
 mittee, consisting of Messrs. Jefferson, Chase and Howell, veported a plan for 
 a temporary government of the territory, in which was this article : " That 
 after the year 1800, there should be neither slavery nor involuntary servitude 
 in any of the said states, otherwise than in punishment of crimes, whereof the 
 party shall have been convicted." Mr. Speight, of North Carolina, moved to 
 strike out this paragraph. The question was put, according to the form then 
 practiced : " Shall these words stand, as part of the plan ?" &c. New Hamp 
 shire, Massachusetts, Rhode Island, Connecticut, New York, New Jersey, and 
 Pennsylvania seven states voted in the affirmative; Maryland, Virginia 
 and South Carolina, in the negative. North Carolina was divided. As the 
 consent of nine states was necessary, the words could not stand, and were 
 struck out accordingly. Mr. Jefferson voted for the clause, but was overruled 
 by his collegues. \ 
 
 In March of the next year (1785) Mr. King, of Massachusetts, seconded j 
 by Mr. Ellery, of Rhode Island, proposed the formerly rejected article, with 
 this addition : " And that this regulation shall be an article of compact, and 
 remain a fundamental principle of the constitution between the thirteen 
 original states and each of the states described in the resolve" &c. On 
 this clause, which provided the adequate and thorough security, the eight 
 Northern States, at that time, voted affirmatively, and the four Southern 
 States negatively. The votes of nine states were not yet obtained, and thus 
 the provision was again rejected by the Southern States. The perseverence 
 of the north held out, and two years afterwards the object was attained. It is 
 no derogation from the credit, whatever that may be, of drawing the ordi 
 nance, that its principles had before been prepared and discussed, in the form 
 of resolutions. If one should reason in that way, what would become of tbe 
 distinguished honor of the author of the Declaration of Independence ? There 
 is not a sentiment in that paper which had not been voted and resolved in 
 the assemblies, and other popular bodies in the country, over and over again. 
 
 But the honorable member has now found out that this gentleman, Mr. 
 Dane, was a member of the Hartford Convention. However uninformed the 
 honorable member may be of characters and occurrences at the north, it would 
 seem that he has at his elbows, on this occasion, some high-minded and lofty 
 spirit, some magnanimous and true-hearted monitor, possessing the means of 
 
180 
 
 local knowledge, and ready to supply the honorable member with every thing, 
 down even to forgotten and moth-eaten twopenny pamphlets, which may bo 
 used to the disadvantage of his own country. But, as to the Hartford Con 
 vention, sir, allow me to say that the proceedings of that body seem now to 
 be less read and studied in New England than farther South. They appear 
 to be looked to, not in New England, but elsewhere, for the purpose of seeing 
 how far they may serve as a precedent. But they will not answer the pur 
 pose they are quite too tame. The latitude in which they originated was 
 too cold. Other conventions, of more recent existence, have gone a whole 
 bar s length beyond it. The learned doctors of Colleton and Abbeville have 
 pushed their commentaries on the Hartford collect so far that the original text 
 writers are thrown entirely into the shade. I have nothing to do, sir, with the 
 Hartford Convention. Its journal, which the gentleman has quoted, I never 
 read. So far as the honorable member may discover in its proceedings a 
 spirit in any degree resembling that which w r as avowed and justified in those 
 other conventions to which I have alluded, or so far as those proceedings can 
 be shown to be disloyal to the constitution, or tending to disunion, so far I 
 shall be as ready as any one to bestow OTJ ||iAm r^prp^r^io^ anrl ^pnsnm. 
 Having dwelt long on this convention, and other occurrences of thai; day," 
 in the hope, probably, (which will not be gratified,) that I should leave the 
 course of this debate to follow him at length in those excursions, the honora 
 ble member returned, and attempted another object. He referred to a speech 
 of mine in the other house, the same which I had occasion to allude to myself 
 the other day ; and has quoted a passage or two from it, with a bold though 
 uneasy and laboring air of confidence, as if he had detected in me an incon 
 sistency. Judging from the gentleman s manner, a stranger to the course of 
 the debate, and to the point in discussion, would have imagined, from so tri 
 umphant a tone, that the honorable member was about to overwhelm me with 
 a manifest contradiction. Any one who heard him, and who had not heard 
 what I had, in fact, previously said, must have thought me routed and dis 
 comfited, as the gentleman had promised. Sir, a breath blows all this triumph 
 away. There is not the slightest difference in the sentiments of my remarks 
 on the two occasions. What I said here on Wednesday is in exact accordance 
 with the opinions expressed by me in the other house in 1825. Though the 
 gentleman had the metaphysics of Hudibras though he were able 
 
 " to sever and divide 
 A hair twixt north and north-west side." 
 
 he could not yet insert his metaphysical scissors between the fair reading of 
 my remaiks in 1825 and what I said here last week. There is not only no 
 contradiction, no difference, but, in truth, too exact a similiarity, both in 
 thought and language, to be entirely in just taste. I had myself quoted the 
 same speech; had recurred to it, and spoke with it open before me; and 
 much of what I said was little more than a repetition from it. In order to 
 make finishing work with this alleged contradiction, permit me to recur to 
 the origin of this debate, and review its course. This seems expedient, and 
 
 y be done as well now as at any time. 
 
 Well, then, its history is this: the honorable member from Connecticut 
 moved a resolution, which constituted the first branch of that which is now 
 before us; that is to say, a resolution instructing the committee on public 
 lands to inquire into the expediency of limiting, for a certain period, the salei 
 
181 
 
 of public lands to such as have heretofore been offered for sale ; and whether 
 sundry offices, connected with the sales of the lands, might not be abolished 
 without detriment to the public service. 
 
 In the progress of the discussion which arose on this resolution, an honora 
 ble member from New Hampshire moved to amend the resolution, so as en 
 tirely to reverse its object ; that is, to strike it all out, and insert a direction to 
 the committee to inquire into the expediency of adopting measures to hasten, 
 the sales, and extend more rapidly the surveys of the lands. 
 
 The honorable member from Maine (Mr. Sprague) suggested that both 
 these propositions might well enough go, for consideration, to the committee; 
 and in this state of the question, the member from South Carolina addressed 
 the Senate in his first speech. He rose, he said, to give us his own free 
 thoughts on the public lands. I saw him rise, with pleasure, and listened 
 with expectation, though before he concluded I was rilled with surprise. Cer 
 tainly, I was never more surprised than to find him following up, to the ex 
 tent he did, the sentiments and opinions which the gentleman from Missouri 
 had put forth, and which it is known he has long entertained. 
 
 I need not repeat, at large, the general topics of the honorable gentleman s 
 speech. When he said, yesterday, that he did not attack the Eastern States, 
 he certainly must have forgotten not only particular remarks, but the whole 
 drift and tenor of his speech; unless he means by not attacking, that he did 
 not commence hostilities, but that another had preceded him in the attack. 
 He, in the first place, disapproved of the w r hole course of the government for 
 forty years, in regard to its dispositions of the public land ; and then, turning 
 northward and eastward, and fancying he had found a cause for alleged nar 
 rowness and niggardliness in the " accursed policy " of the tariff, to which he 
 represented the people of New England as wedded, he went on, for a full 
 hour, with remarks, the whole scope of which was to exhibit the results of 
 this policy, in feelings and in measures unfavorable to the west. I thought 
 his opinions unfounded and erroneous, as to the general course of the gov 
 ernment, and ventured to reply to them. 
 
 The gentleman had remarked on the analogy of other cases, and quoted 
 the conduct of European governments towards their own subjects, settling on 
 this continent, as in point, to show that we had been harsh and rigid in sel 
 ling when we should have given the public lands to settlers. I thought the 
 honorable member had suffered his judgment to be betrayed by a false analo 
 gy ; that he was struck with an appearance of resemblance where there was 
 no real similitude. I think so still. The first settlers of North America were 
 enterprising spirits, engaging in private adventure, or fleeing from tyranny at 
 home. When arrived here, they were forgotten by the mother country, or 
 remembered only to be oppressed. Carried away again by the appearance of 
 analogy, or struck with the eloquence of the passage, the* honorable member 
 yesterday observed that the conduct of government towards the western emi 
 grants, or my representation of it, brought to his mind a celebrated speech in 
 the British Parliament. It was, sir, the speech of Colonel Barre. On the 
 question of the stamp act, or tea tax, I forget which, Colonel Barre had heard 
 a member on the treasury bench argue, that the people of the United States, 
 being British colonists, planted by the maternal care, nourished by the indul 
 gence, and protected by the arms of England, would not grudge their mite to 
 relieve the mother country from the heavy burden under which she groaned. 
 The language of Colonel Barre, in repfy to this, was, " They planted by your 
 care ? Your oppression planted them in America. They fled from your ty 
 
182 
 
 ranny, and grew by your neglect of them. So soon as you began to care for 
 them, you showed your care by sending persons to spy out their liberties, mis 
 represent their character, prey upon them, and eat out their substance." 
 
 And does this honorable gentleman mean to maintain that language like 
 this is applicable to the conduct of the government of the United States to 
 wards the western emigrants, or to any representation given by me of that 
 conduct ? Were the settlers in the west driven thither by our oppression ? 
 Have they flourished only by our neglect of them? Has the government 
 done nothing but prey upon them, and eat out their substance ? Sir, this fer 
 vid eloquence of the British speaker, just when and where it was uttered, and 
 fit to remain an exercise for the schools, is not a little out of place, when it 
 was brought thence to be applied here, to the conduct of our own country 
 towards her own citizens. From America to England it may be true ; from 
 Americans to their own government it would be strange language. Let us 
 leave it to be recited and declaimed by our boys against a foreign nation ; not 
 introduce it here, to recite and declaim ourselves against our own. 
 TBut I come to the point of the alleged contradiction. In my remarks on 
 Wednesday, I contended that we could not give away gratuitously all the 
 public lands ; that we held them in trust ; that the government had solemnly 
 pledged itself to dispose of them as a common fund for the common benefit, 
 and to sell and settle them as its discretion should dictate. Now, sir, what 
 contradiction does the gentleman find to this sentiment in the speech of 1825 ? 
 He quotes me as having then said, that we ought not to hug these lands as a 
 very great treasure. Very well, sir; supposing me to be accurately reported 
 in that expression, what is the contradiction ? I have not now said, that we 
 should hug these lands as a favorite source of pecuniary income. No such 
 thing. It is not my view. What I have said, and what I do say, is, that 
 they are a common fund to be disposed of for the common benefit to be 
 sold at low prices, for the accommodation of settlers, keeping the object of 
 settling the lands as much in view as that of raising money from them. This 
 I say now, and this I have always said. Is this hugging them as a favorite 
 treasure ? Is there no difference between hugging and hoarding this fund, 
 on the one hand as a great treasure, and on the other of disposing of it at 
 low prices, placing the proceeds in the general treasury of the Union ? My 
 opinion is, that as much is to be made of the land, as fair and reasonably may 
 be, selling it all the while at such rates as to give the fullest effect to settle 
 ment. This is not giving it all away to the states, as the gentleman would 
 propose ; nor is it hugging the fund closely and tenaciously, as a favorite trea- 
 eure ; but it is, in my judgment, a just and wise policy, perfectly according 
 with all the various duties which rest on government. So much for my con 
 tradiction. And what is it? Where is the ground of the gentleman s tri 
 umph ? What inconsistency, in word or doctrine, has he been able to detect ? 
 Sir, if this be a sample of that discomfiture with which the honorable gentle 
 man threatened me, commend me to the word discomfiture for the rest of 
 
 my life. / - 
 
 "~" Uiit, after all, this is not the point of the debate ; and I must bring the 
 gentleman back to that which is the point. 
 
 The real question between me and him is, Where has the doctrine been 
 advanced, at the south or the east, that the population of the west should be 
 retarded, or, at least, need not be hastened, on account of its effect to drain off 
 the people from the Atlantic States? Is this doctrine, as has been alleged, of 
 eastern origin ? That is the question. Has the gentleman found anything by 
 
183 
 
 which lie can make good his accusation ? I submit to the Senate, that he has 
 
 entirely failed ; and as far as this debate has shown, the only person who has 
 
 advanced such sentiments is a gentleman from South Carolina, and a friend to 
 
 the honorable member himself. This honorable gentleman has given no 
 
 answer to this ; there is none which can be given. This simple fact, while it 
 
 requires no comment to enforce it, defies all argument to refute it. I could 
 
 refer to the speeches of another southern gentlemen, in years before, of the 
 
 I same general character, and to the same effect, as that which has been quoted; 
 
 J but I will not consume the time of the Senate by the reading of them. . 
 
 I So then, sir, New England is guiltless of the policy of retarding westerns 
 
 I population, and of all envy and jealousy of the growth of the new states. 
 
 I Whatever there be of that policy in the country, no part of it is hers. If it 
 
 | has a local habitation, the honorable member has probably seen, by this time, 
 
 where he is to look for it ; and if it now has received a name, he himself has^ 
 i christened it 
 
 We approach, at length, sir, to a more important part of the honorable gen 
 tleman s observations. Since it does not accord with my views of justice and 
 policy, to vote away the public lands altogether, as mere matter of gratuity, I 
 am asked, by the honorable gentleman, on what ground it is that I consent to 
 give them away in particular instances. How, he inquires, do I reconcile with 
 these professed sentiments my support of measures appropriating portions of 
 the lands to particular roads, particular canals, particular rivers, and particular 
 institutions of education in the west ? This leads, sir, to the real and wide 
 difference in political opinions between the honorable gentleman and myself. 
 On my part, I look upon all these objects as connected with the common good, 
 fairly embraced in its objects and its terms ; he, on the contrary, deems them 
 all, if good at all, only local good. This is our difference. The interrogatory 
 which he proceeded to put, at once explains this difference. " What interest,"! 
 asks he, " has South Carolina in a canal in Ohio ? " Sir, this very question ia 
 full of significance. It develops the gentleman s whole political system; and 
 its answer expounds mine. Here we differ toto coslo. I look upon a road 
 over the Alleghany, a canal round the falls of the Ohio, or a canal or railway 
 from the Atlantic to the western waters, as being objects large and extensive 
 enough to be fairly said to be for the common benefit. The gentleman thinks 
 otherwise, and this is the key to open his construction of the powers of the 
 government. He may well ask, upon his system, What interest has South 
 Carolina in a canal in Ohio ? On that system, it is true, she has no interest 
 On that system, Ohio and Carolina are different governments and different 
 countries, connected here, it is true, by some slight and ill-defined bond of 
 union, but in all main respects separate and diverse. On that system, Caroli 
 na has no more interest in a canal in Ohio than in Mexico. The gentleman, 
 therefore, only follows out his own principles ; he does no more than arrive at 
 the natural conclusions of his own doctrines ; he only announces the true re 
 sults of that creed which he has adopted himself, and would persuade others 
 to adopt, when he thus declares that South Carolina has no interest in a pub 
 lic work in Ohio. Sir, we narrow-minded people of New England do not 
 reason thus. Our notion of things is entirely different. We look upon the 
 states, not as separated, but as united. We love to dwell on that Union, and 
 on the mutual happiness which it has so much promoted, and the common 
 renown which it has so greatly contributed to acquire! I n our contemplation, 
 Carolina and Ohio are parts of the same country states united under the 
 ame general government, having interests common, associated, intermingled. 
 
184 
 
 In whatever is within the proper sphere of the constitutional power of thia 
 government, we look upon the states as one. We do not impose geographi 
 cal limits to our patriotic feeling or regard ; we do not follow rivers, and moun 
 tains, and lines of latitude, to rind boundaries beyond which public improve 
 ments do not benefit us. We, who come here as agents and representatives 
 of those narrow-minded and selfish men of New England, consider ourselves 
 as bound to regard, with equal exfi^the good of the whole, in whatever is 
 within our power of legislation. Sir, if a railroad or canal, beginning in South* 
 Carolina, appeared to me to be oT national importance and national magni 
 tude, believing as I do that the power of government extends to the encour-j 
 agement of works of that description, if 1 were to stand up here and ask, I 
 " What interest has Massachusetts in a railroad in South Carolina ? " I should 
 not be willing to face my constituents. These same narrow-minded men 
 would tell me that they had sent me to act for the whole country, and that 
 one who possessed too little comprehension, either of intellect or feeling, one 
 who was not large enough, in mind and heart, to embrace the whole, was 
 not fit to be intrusted with the interest of any part. \ Sir, I do not desiie to 
 enlarge the powers of government by unjustifiable construction, nor to exer 
 cise any not within a fair interpretation. But when it is believed that a pow 
 er does exist, then it is, in my judgment, to be exercised for the general benefit 
 of the whole : so far as respects the exercise of such a power, the states are 
 one. It was the very great object of the constitution to create unity of inter 
 ests to the extent of the powers of the general government. In war and 
 peace we are one ; in commerce one ; because the authority of the general 
 government reaches to war and peace, and to the regulation of commerce. I 
 have never seen any more difficulty in erecting lighthouses on the lakes than 
 on the ocean ; in improving the harbors of inland seas, than if they were with 
 in the ebb and flow of the tide ; or of removing obstructions in the vast 
 streams of the west, more than in any work to facilitate commerce on the At 
 lantic coast. If there be power for one, there is power also for- the other; and 
 they are all and equally for the country. 
 
 There are other objects, apparently more local, or the benefit of which is 
 less general, towards which, nevertheless, I have concurred with others to give 
 aid by donations of land. It is proposed to construct a road in or through 
 one of the new states in which the government possesses large quantities of 
 land. Have the United States no right, as a great and untaxed proprietor 
 are they under no obligation to contribute to an object thus calculated to 
 promote the common good of all the proprietors, themselves included ? And 
 even with respect to education, which is the extreme case, let the question be 
 considered. In the first place, as we have seen, it was made matter of com 
 pact with these states that they should do their part to promote education. In 
 the next place, our whole system of land laws proceeds on the idea that edu 
 cation is for the common good-; because, in every division, a certain portion is 
 uniformly reserved and appropriated for the use of schools. And, finally 
 have not these new states singularly strong claims, founded on the ground al 
 ready stated, that the government is a great untaxed proprietor in the owner 
 ship of the soil ? It is a consideration of great importance that probably 
 there is in no part of the country, or of the world, so great a call for the 
 means of education as in those new states, owing to the vast number of per 
 sons within those ages in which education and instruction are usually received, 
 if received at all. This is the natural consequence of recency of settlement 
 and rapid increase. The census of these states shows how great a proportion 
 
185 
 
 of the "whole population occupies the classes between infancy and childhood. 
 These are the wide fields, and here is the deep and quick soil for the seeds of 
 knowledge and virtue ; and this is the favored season, the spring time for 
 sowing them. Let them be disseminated without stint. Let them be scat 
 tered with a bountiful broadcast. Whatever the government can fairly do 
 towards these objects, in my opinion, ought to be done. 
 
 These, sir, are the grounds,succinctly stated, on which my votes for grants 
 of lands for particular objects rest, while I maintain, at the same time, that it 
 is all a common fund, for the common benefit. And reasons like these, I 
 presume, have influenced the votes of other gentlemen from New England. 
 Those who have a different view of the powers of the government, of course, 
 come to different conclusions on these as on other questions. I observed, 
 when speaking on this subject before, that if we looked to any measure, 
 whether for a road, a canal, or any thing else intended for , the improvement 
 of the west,, it would be found, that if the New England ayes were struck 
 out of the list of votes, the southern noes would always have rejected the 
 measure. The truth of this has not been denied, and cannot be denied. In 
 stating this, I thought it just to ascribe it to the constitutional scruples of the 
 south, rather than to any other less favorable or less charitable cause. But 
 no sooner had I done this, than the honorable gentleman asks if I reproach 
 him and his friends with their constitutional scruples. Sir, I reproach nobody. 
 I stated a fact, and gave the most respectful reason for it that occurred to me. 
 The gentleman cannot deny the fact he may, if he choose, disclaim the 
 reason. It is not long since I had occasion, in presenting a petition from his 
 own state, to account for its being intrusted to my hands by saying, that the 
 constitutional opinions of the gentleman and his worthy colleague prevented 
 them from supporting it. Sir, did I state this as a matter of reproach ? Far 
 from it. Did I attempt to find any other cause than an honest one for these 
 scruples ? Sir, I did not. It did not become me to doubt, nor to insinuate 
 that the gentleman had either changed his sentiments, or that he had made 
 up a set of constitutional opinions, accommodated to any particular combina 
 tion of political occurrences. Had I done so, I should have felt, that while I 
 was entitled to little respect in thus questioning other people s motives, I jus 
 tified the whole world in suspecting my own. 
 
 But how has the gentleman returned this respect for others opinions ? His 
 own candor and justice, how have they been exhibited towards the motives 
 of others, while he has been at so much pains to maintain what nobody 
 has disputed the purity of his own ? Why, sir, he has asked when, and 
 how, and why New England votes were found going for measures favorable 
 to the west ; he has demanded to be informed whether all this did not begin 
 in 1825, and while the election of President was still pending. Sir, to 
 these questions retort would be justified ; and it is both cogent and at hand. 
 Nevertheless, I will answer the inquiry not by retort, but by facts. I will tell 
 the gentleman when, and how, and why New England has supported meas 
 ures favorable to the west. I have already referred to the early history of the 
 government to the first acquisition of the lands to the original laws for 
 disposing of them and for governing the territories where they lie ; and have 
 shown the influence of New England men and Ne^ England principles in all 
 these leading measures. I should not be pardoned were I to go over that 
 ground again. Coming to more recent times, and to measures of a less gene 
 ral character, I have endeavored to prove that every thing of this kind designed 
 for western improvement has depended on the votes of New England. All 
 this is true beyond the power of contradiction. 
 
186 
 
 And now, sir, there are two measures to which I will refer, not so ancient 
 as to belong to the early history of the public lands, and not so recent as to 
 be on this side of the period when the gentleman charitably imagines a new 
 direction may have been given to New England feeling and New England 
 votes. These measures, arid the New England votes in support of them, may 
 be taken as samples and specimens of all the rest. In 1820, (observe, Mr. 
 President, in 1820,) the people of the west besought Congress for a reduction 
 in the price of lands. In favor of that reduction, New England, with a dele 
 gation of forty members in the other house, gave thirty-three votes, and one 
 only against it. The four Southern States, with fifty members, gave thirty- 
 two votes foi it, and seven against it. Again, in 1821, (observe again, sir, the 
 time,) the law passed for the relief of the purchasers of the public lands. 
 This was a measure of vital importance to the west, and more especially to 
 the south-west It authorized the reliiiquishment of contracts for lands, which 
 had been entered into at high prices, and a reduction, in other cases, of not 
 less than 37^- per cent, on the purchase money. Many millions of dollars, six 
 or seven I believe, at least, probably much more, were relinquished by 
 this law. On this bill New England, with her forty members, gave more af 
 firmative votes than the four Southern States with their fifty-two or three 
 members. These two are far the most important measures respecting the 
 public lands which have been adopted within the last twenty years. They 
 took place in 1820 and 1821. That is the time when. And as to the man 
 ner how, the gentleman already sees that it was by voting, in solid column, 
 for the required relief; and lastly, as to the cause why, I tell the gentleman, it 
 was because the members from New England thought the measures just and 
 salutary; because they entertained towards the west neither envy, hatred, nor 
 malice; because they deemed it becoming them, as just and enlightened pub 
 lic men, to meet the exigency which had arisen in the west with the appro 
 priate measure of relief; because they felt it due toftheir own characters of 
 their New England predecessors in this government^ to act towards the new 
 states in the spirit of a liberal, patronizing, magnanimous policy. So much, 
 sir, for the cause why ; and I hope that by this time, sir, the honorable gen 
 tleman is satisfied; if not, I do not know when, or hoiv, or why, he ever 
 will bo. 
 
 Having recurred to these two important measures, in answer to the gentle 
 man s inquiries, I must now beg permission to go back to a period still some 
 thing earlier, for the purpose still further of showing how much, or rather 
 how little reason there is for the gentleman s insinuation that political hopes, 
 or fears, or party associations, were the grounds of these New England votes. 
 And after what has been said, I hope it may be forgiven me if I allude to 
 some political opinions and votes of my own, of very little public importance, 
 certainly, but which, from the time at which they were given and expressed, 
 
 mav. pass ibrjrood witnesses on this occasion. ^ 
 
 /v Tliis government, Ml 1 . President, from its origin to the peace of 1815, had 
 been too much engrossed with various other important concerns to be able to 
 turn its thoughts inward, and look to the development of its vast internal re 
 sources. In the early part of President Washington s administration, it was 
 fully occupied with organizing the government, providing for the public debt, 
 defending the frontiers, and maintaining domestic peace. Before the termina 
 tion pf that administration, the fires of the French revolution blazed forth, aa 
 from a new opened volcano, and the whole breadth of the ocean did not en 
 tirely secure us from its effects. The smoke and the cinde/s reached us, though 
 
187 
 
 not the burning lava. Difficult and agitating questions, embarrassing to go?- 
 erament, and dividing public opinion, sprung out of the new state of our for 
 eign relations, and were succeeded by others, and yet again by others, equally 
 embarrassing, and equally exciting division and discord, through the long se 
 ries of twenty years, till they finally issued in the war with England. Down 
 to the close of that war, no distinct, marked and deliberate attention had been 
 given, or could have been given, to the internal condition of the country, its 
 capacities of improvement, or the constitutional power of the government, in 
 regard to objects connected with such improvement. 
 
 The peace, Mr. President, brought about an entirely new and a most inter 
 esting state of things ; it opened to us other prospects, and suggested other 
 duties; we ourselves were changed, and the whole world was changed. The 
 pacification of Europe, after June, 1815, assumed a firm and permanent as 
 pect. The nations evidently manifested that they were disposed for peace : 
 some agitation of the waves might be expected, even after the storm had sub 
 sided ; but the tendency was, strongly and rapidly, towards settled repose. 
 
 It so happened, sir, that I was at that time a member of Congress, and, 
 like others, naturally turned my attention to the contemplation of the newly- 
 altered condition of the country, and of the world. It appeared plainly 
 enough to me, as well as to wiser and more experienced men, that the policy 
 of the government would necessarily take a start in a new direction ; because 
 new directions would necessarily be given to the pursuits and occupations of 
 the people. We had pushed our commerce far and fast, under the advantage 
 of a neutral flag. But there were now no longer flags, either neutral or belli 
 gerent. The harvest of neutrality had been great, but we had gathered it all. 
 With the peace of Europe, it was obvious there would spring up, in her circle 
 of nations, a revived and invigorated spirit of trade, and a new activity in all 
 the business and objects of civilized life. Hereafter, our commercial gains 
 were to be earned only by success in a close and intense competition. Other 
 "nations would produce for themselves, and carry for themselves, and manufac 
 ture for themselves, to the full extent of their abilities. The crops of our 
 plains would no longer sustain European armies, nor our ships longer supply 
 those whom war had rendered unable to supply themselves. It was obvions 
 that under these circumstances, the country would begin to survey itself, and 
 to estimate its own capacity of improvement. And this improvement, how 
 was it to be accomplished, and who was to accomplish it ? , 
 
 We were ten or twelve millions of people, spread over almost half a world. 
 We were twenty-four states, some stretching along the same sea-board, some 
 along the same line of inland frontier, and others on opposite banks of the 
 same vast rivers. Two considerations at once presented themselves, in looking 
 at this state of things, with great force. One was, that that great branch of 
 improvement, which consisted in furnishing new facilities of intercourse, neces 
 sarily ran into different states, in every leading instance, and. would benefit tha 
 citizens of all such states. No cne state, therefore, in such cases, would as 
 sume the whole expense, nor was the co-operation of several states to be ex 
 pected. Take the instance of the Delaware Breakwater. It will cost several 
 millions of money. Would Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware have 
 united to accomplish it at their joint expense ? Certainly not, for the samo 
 reason. It could not be done, therefore, but by the general government. The 
 same may be said of the large inland undertakings, except that, in them, gov 
 ernment, instead of bearing the whole expense, co-operates with others to bear 
 a part. The other consideration is, that the United States have the means. 
 
188 
 
 They enjoy the revenues derived from commerce, and the states have no abun 
 dant and easy sources of public income. The custom houses fill the general 
 treasury, while the states have scanty resources, except by resort to heavy di 
 rect taxes. 
 
 Under this view of things, I thought it necessary to settle, at least for my 
 self, some definite notions, with respect to the powers of government, in regard 
 to internal affairs. It may not savor too much of self-commendation to re 
 mark, that, with this object, I considered the constitution, its judicial construc 
 tion, its contemporaneous exposition, and the whole history of the legislation 
 of Congress under it; and 1 arrived at the conclusion that government had 
 power to accomplish sundry objects, or aid in their accomplishment, which are 
 now commonly spoken of as INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS. That conclusion, sir, 
 may have been right, or it may have been wrong. I am not about to argue 
 the grounds of it at large. I say only that it was adopted, and acted on, even 
 so early as in 1816. Yes, Mr. President, I made up my opinion, and deter 
 mined on my intended course of political conduct on these subjects, in the 
 14th Congress in 1816. And now, Mr. President, I have further to say, that 
 I made up these opinions, and entered on this course of political conduct, 
 Teucro duce. w Yes, sir, I pursued, in all this, a South Carolina track. On* 
 the doctrines of internal improvement, South Carolina, as she was then repre 
 sented in the other house, set forth, in 1816, under a fresh and leading breeze; 
 and I was among the followers. But if my leader sees new lights, and turns 
 a sharp corner, unless I see new lights also, I keep straight on in the same 
 path. I repeat, that leading gentlemen from South Carolina were first and 
 foremost in behalf of the doctrines of internal improvements, when those doc 
 trines first came to be considered and acted upon in Congress. The debate on 
 the bank question, on the tariff of 1816, and on the direct tax, will show who 
 was who, and what was what, at that time. The tariff of 1816, one of the 
 plain cases of oppression and usurpation, from which, if the government does 
 not recede, individual states may justly secede from the government, is, sir, i 
 truth, a South Carolina tariffj supported by South Carolina votes.^ But for 
 those votes, it could not have passed in the form in which it did pass ; whereas, 
 if it had depended on Massachusetts votes, it would have been lost. Does not 
 the honorable gentleman well know all this? There are certainly those who 
 do full well know it all. I do not say this to reproach South Carolina ; I 
 only state the fact, and I think it will appear to be true, that among the ear 
 liest and boldest advocates of the taritf, as a measure of protection, and on 
 the express ground of protection, were leading gentlemen of South Carolina 
 in Congress. I did not then, and cannot now, understand their language in 
 any other sense. While this tariff of 1816 was under discussion in the 
 House of Representatives, an honorable gentleman from Georgia, now of this 
 house, (Mr. Forsyth,) moved to reduce the proposed duty on cotton. He 
 failed by four votes, South Carolina giving three votes (enough to have turned 
 the scale) against his motion. The act, sir, then passed, and received on its 
 passage the support of a majority of the representatives of South Carolina 
 present and voting. This act is the first, in the order of those now denounced 
 as plain usurpations. We see it daily in the list by the side of those of 1 824 
 and 1828, as a case of manifest oppression, justifying disunion. I put it home 
 to the honorable member from South Carolina, that his own state was not 
 only "art and part" in this measure, but the causa causans. Without her 
 aid, this seminal principle of mischief, this root of upas, could not have been 
 planted. I have already. said and it is true that this act proceeded on 
 
189 
 
 the ground of protection. It interfered directly with existing interests of 
 great value and amount. It cut up the Calcutta cotton trade by the roots. 
 But it passed, nevertheless, and it passed on the principle of protecting manu 
 factures, on the principle against free trade, on the principle opposed to that 
 which lets us alone. 
 
 Such, Mr. President, were the opinions of important and leading gentlemen 
 of South Carolina, on the subject of internal improvement, in 1816. I went 
 out of, Congress the next year, and returning again in 1823, thought I found 
 South Carolina where I had left her. I really supposed that all things re 
 mained as they were, and that the South Carolina doctrine of internal im 
 provements would be defended by the same eloquent voices, and the same 
 strong arms, as formerly. In the lapse of these six years, it is true, political 
 associations had assumed a new aspect and new divisions. A party had arisen 
 in the south, hostile to the doctrine of internal improvements, and had vigor 
 ously attacked that doctrine. Anti-consolidation was the flag under which 
 this partv fought, and its supporters inveighed against internal improvements, 
 much after the same manner in which the honorable gentleman has now in 
 veighed against them, as part and parcel of the system of consolidation. 
 
 Whether this party arose in South Carolina herself, or in her neighborhood, 
 is more than I know. I think the latter. However that may have been, 
 there were those found in South Carolina ready to make war upon it, and 
 who did make intrepid war upon it. Names being regarded as things, in 
 such controversies, they bestowed on the anti-improvement gentlemen the ap 
 pellation of radicals. Yes, sir, the name of radicals, as a term of distinction, 
 applicable and applied to those who defended the liberal doctrines of internal 
 improvements, originated, according to the best of my recollection, somewhere 
 between North Carolina and Georgia. Well, sir, those mischievous radicals 
 were to be put down, and the strong arm of South Carolina was stretched out 
 to put them down. About this time, sir, I returned to Congress. The battle 
 with the radicals had been fought, and our South Carolina champions of the 
 doctrine of internal improvement had nobly maintained their ground, and 
 were understood to have achieved a victory. They had driven back the 
 enemy with discomfiture ; a thing, by the way, sir, which is not always per 
 formed when it is promised. A gentleman, to whom I have already referred 
 in this debate, had come into Congress, during my absence from it, from 
 South Carolina, and had brought with him a high reputation for ability. He 
 oame from a school with which we had been acquainted, et nosdtur a sociis. 
 I hold in my hand, sir, a printed speech of this distinguished gentleman, 
 (Mr. McDuFFiE,) " ON INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS," delivered about the period 
 to which I now refer, and printed with a few introductory remarks upon con 
 solidation ; in which, sir, I think he quite consolidated the arguments of his 
 opponents, the radicals, if to crush be to consolidate. I give you a short but 
 substantive quotation from these remarks. He is speaking of a pamphlet, then 
 recently published, entitled " Consolidation ;" and having alluded to the ques 
 tion of rechartering the former Bank of the United States, he says : " More 
 over, in the early history of parties, and when Mr. Crawford advocated the 
 renewal of the old charter, it was considrred a federal measure; which inter 
 nal improvement never was, as this author erroneously states. This latter 
 measure originated in the administration of Mr. Jefferson, with the appropria 
 tion for the Cumberland road; and was first proposed, as a system, by Mr. 
 Calhoun, and carried through the House of Representatives by a large majori 
 ty of the republicans, including almost every one of the leading men who 
 carried us through the late war." 
 
190 
 
 So, then, internal improvement is not one of the federal heresies. One 
 paragraph more, sir. 
 
 tt The author in question, not content with denouncing as federalists Gen. 
 Jackson, Mr. Adams, Mr. Calhoun, and the majority of the South Carolina 
 delegation in Congress, modestly extends the denunciation to Mr. Monroe and 
 the whole republican party. Here are his words: * During the administra 
 tion of Mr. Monroe, much has passed which the republican party would be 
 glad to approve, if they could ! ! But the principal feature, and that which 
 has chiefly elicited these observations, is the renewal of the SYSTEM OF IN 
 TERNAL IMPROVEMENTS. Now, this measure was adopted by a vote of 115 
 to 86, of a republican Congress, and sanctioned by a republican president. 
 Who, then, is this author, who assumes the high prerogative of denouncing, 
 in the name of the republican party, the republican administration of the 
 country a denunciation including within its sweep Calhoun, Lowndes, and 
 Cheves; men who will be regarded as the brightest ornaments of South 
 Carolina, and the strongest pillars of the republican party, as long as the late 
 war shall be remembered, and talents and patriotism shall be regarded as the 
 proper objects of the admiration and gratitude of a free people ! ! " 
 
 Such are the opinions, sir, which were maintained by South Carolina gen 
 tlemen in the House of Representatives on the subject of internal improve 
 ment, when I took my seat there as a member from Massachusetts, in 1823. 
 But this is not all ; we had a bill before us, and passed it in that house, en 
 titled " An act to procure the necessary surveys, plans, and estimates upon the 
 subject of roads and canals." It authorized the president to cause surveys 
 and estimates to be made of the routes of such roads and canals as he might 
 deem of national importance in a commercial or military point of view, or 
 for the transportation of the mail; and appropriated thirty thousand dollars 
 out of the treasury to defray the expense. This act, though preliminary in 
 its nature, covered the whole ground. It took for granted the complete pow 
 er of internal improvement, as far as any of its advocates had ever contended 
 for it. Having passed the other house, the bill came up to the Senate, and 
 was here considered and debated in April, 1824. The honorable member 
 from South Carolina was a member of the Senate at that time. While the 
 bill was under consideration here, a motion was made to add the following 
 proviso : 
 
 " Provided, That nothing herein contained shall be construed to affirm or 
 admit a power in Congress, on their own authority, to make roads or canals 
 within any of the states of the Union." 
 
 The yeas and nays were taken on this proviso, and the honorable member 
 voted in the negative. The proviso failed. 
 
 A motion was then made to add this proviso, viz : 
 
 " Provided, That the faith of the United States is hereby pledged, that no 
 money shall ever be expended for roads or canals, except it shall be among 
 the several states, and in the same proportion as direct taxes are laid and as 
 sessed by the provisions of the constitution." 
 
 The honorable member voied against this proviso also, and it failed. 
 
 The bill was then put on its passage, and the honorable member voted for 
 it, and it passed, and became a law. 
 
 Now, it strikes me, sir, that there is no maintaining these votes but upon 
 the power of internal improvement, in its broadest sense. In truth, these 
 bills for surveys and estimates have always been considered as test questions. 
 They show who is for and who against internal improvement. This law itself 
 
191 
 
 went the whole length, and assumed the full and complete power. The gen 
 tleman s votes sustained that power, in every form in which the various propo 
 sitions to amend presented it. He went for the entire and unrestrained au 
 thority, without consulting the states, and without agreeing to any proportionate 
 distribution. And now, suffer me to remind you, Mr. President, that it is this 
 very same power, thus sanctioned, in every form, by the gentleman s own 
 opinion, that is so plain and manifest a usurpation, that the state of South 
 Carolina is supposed to be justified in refusing submission to any laws carry 
 ing the power into effect. Truly, sir, is not this a little too hard ? May we 
 not crave some mercy, under favor and protection of the gentleman s own 
 authority ? Admitting that a road or a canal must be written down flat 
 usurpation as ever was committed, may we find no mitigation in our respect 
 jbr his place, and his vote, as one that knows the law ? 
 
 4r*The tariff which South Carolina had an efficient hand in establishing in ^ 
 1816 ? and this asserted power of internal improvement advanced by her in * 
 the same year, and, as we have seen, approved and sanctioned by her repre 
 sentatives in 1824, these two measures are the great grounds on which she^j 
 is now thought to be justified in breaking up the Union, if she sees fit to 
 break it uj)/J^ 
 
 I may now safely say, I think, that we have had the authority of leading 
 and distinguished gentlemen from South Carolina in support of the doctrine 
 of internal improvement. I repeat that, up to 1824, I, for one, followed 
 South Carolina; but when that star in its ascension veered off in an unex 
 pected direction, I relied on its light no longer. [Here the Vice President 
 said, Does the Chair understand the gentleman from Massachusetts to say 
 that the person.now occupying the chair of the Senate has changed his opin 
 ions on the subject of internal improvements ?] From nothing ever said to 
 me, sir, have I had reason to know of any change in the opinions of the per 
 son filling the chair of the Senate. If such change has taken place, I regret 
 it; I speak generally of the state of South Carolina. Individuals we know 
 there are who hold opinions favorable to the power. An application for its 
 exercise in behalf of a public work in South Carolina itself is now pending, I 
 believe, in the other house, presented by members from that state. 
 
 I have thus, sir, perhaps not without some tediousness of detail, shown that, 
 if I am in error on the subject of internal improvements, how and in what 
 company I fell into that error. If I am wrong, it is apparent who misled me. \j 
 
 I go to other remarks of the honorable member and I have to complain/^ 
 of an entire misapprehension of what I said on the subject of the national 
 debt though I can hardly perceive how any one could misunderstand me. 
 What I said was, not that I wished to put off the payment of the debt, but, 
 on the contrary, that I had always voted for every measure for its reduction, 
 as uniformly as the gentleman himself. He seems to claim the exclusive 
 merit of a disposition to reduce the public charge ; I do not allow it to him. 
 As a debt, I was, I am, for paying it ; because it is a charge on our finances, 
 and on the industry of the country. But I observed that I thought I per 
 ceived a morbid fervor on that subject; an excessive anxiety to pay off the 
 debt; not so much because it is a debt simply, as because, while it lasts, it 
 furnishes one objection to disunion. It is a tie of common interest while it 
 lasts. I did not impute such motive to the honorable member himself; but 
 Chat there is such a feeling in existence I have not a particle of doubt. The 
 most I said was, that if one effect of the debt was to strengthen our Union, 
 chat effect itself was not regretted by me, however much others might regret 
 
192 
 
 it The gentleman has not seen how to reply to this otherwise than by sup 
 posing me to have advanced the doctrine that a national debt is a national 
 blessing. Others, I must hope, will find less difficulty in understanding me. 
 I distinctly and pointedly cautioned the honorable member not to understand 
 me as expressing an opinion favorable to the continuance of the debt. I re 
 peated this caution, and repeated it more than once but it was thrown 
 away. 
 
 On yet another point I was still more unaccountably misunderstood. The 
 \ /gentleman had harangued against " consolidation." I told him, in reply, that 
 3/ there was one kind of consolidation to which I was attached, and that was, 
 the CONSOLIDATION OF OUR UNION ; and that this was precisely that consoli 
 dation to which I feared others were not attached ; that such consolidation was 
 the very end of the constitution that the leading object, as they had in 
 formed us themselves, which its framers had kept in view. I turned to tli^k- 
 communication, and read their very words, " the consolidation of the Union," 
 and expressed iny devotion to this sort of consolidation. I said in terms 
 , that I wished not, in the slightest degree, to augment the powers of this gov 
 ernment; that my object was to preserve, not to enlarge; and that, by consoli 
 dating the Union, I understood no more thin the strengthening of the Union 
 and perpetuating it. Having been thus ex^ licit ; having thus read, from the 
 printed book, the precise words which I adoj. ted, as expressing my own senti 
 ments, it passes comprehension, how any man could understand me as con 
 tending for an extension of the powers of the government, or for consolidation 
 in the odious sense in which it means an accumulation, in the federal govern 
 ment, of the powers properly belonging to the states. 
 
 I repeat, sir, that, in adopting the sentiments of the framers of the consti 
 tution, I read their language audibly, and word for word ; and I pointed out 
 the distinction, just as fully as I have now done, between the consolidation of 
 the Union and that other obnoxious consolidation which I disclaimed ; and yet 
 the honorable gentleman misunderstood me. The gentleman had said that 
 he wished for no fixed revenue not a shilling. If, by a word, he could 
 convert the Capitol into gold, he would not do it. Why all this fear of reve 
 nue 2 Why, sir, because, as the gentleman told us, it tends to consolidation. 
 Now, this can mean neither more or less than that a common revenue is a com 
 mon interest, and that all common interests tend to hold the union of the 
 states together. I confess I like that tendency; if the gentleman dislikes 
 it, he is right in deprecating a shilling s fixed revenue. So much, sir, for con 
 solidation. 
 
 As well as I recollect the course of his remarks, the honorable gentleman 
 next recurred to the subject of the tariff. He did not doubt the word must be 
 of unpleasant sound to me, and proceeded, with an effort neither new nor at 
 tended with new success, to involve me and my votes in inconsistency and con 
 tradiction. I am happy the honorable gentleman has furnished me an op 
 portunity of a timely remark or two on that subject. I was glad he ap 
 proached it, for it is a question I enter upon without fear from any body. 
 The strenuous toil of the gentleman has been to raise an inconsistency between 
 my dissent to the tariff, in 1824 and my vote in 1828. It is labor lost. He 
 pays undeserved compliment to my speech in 1824; but this is to raise me 
 high, that my fall, as he would have it, in 1828 may be the more signal. 
 Sir, there was no fall at all. Between the ground I stood on in 1824 and 
 that I took in 1828, there was not only no precipice, but no declivity. It was 
 a change of position, to meet new circumstances, but on the same It el. A 
 
103 
 
 plain tale explains the whole matter. In 1816, I^had not acquiesced in the 
 taring then supported by South Carolina. To some parts of it, especially, I 
 felt and expressed great repugnance. I held the same opinions in 1821, at 
 the meeting in Faneuil Hall, to which the gentleman has alluded. I said 
 then, and say now, that, as an original question, the authority of Congress to 
 exercise the revenue power, with direct reference to the protection of manufac 
 tures, is a questionable authority, far more questionable in my judgment, than 
 the power of internal improvements. 1 must confess, sir, that, in one respect, 
 some impression has been made on my opinions lately. Mr. Madison s pub 
 lication has put the power in a very strong light. He has placed it, I must 
 acknowledge, upon grounds of construction and argument which seem impreg 
 nable. But even if the power were doubted, on the face of the constitution 
 itself, it had been assumed and asserted in the first revenue law ever passed 
 under the same constitution; and, on this ground, as a matter settled by con 
 temporaneous practice, I had refrained from expressing the opinion that the ta 
 riff laws transcended constitutional limits, as the gentleman supposes. What I 
 did say at Faneuil Hall, as far as I now remember, was, that this was originally 
 matter of doubtful construction. The gentleman himself, I suppose, thinks there 
 is no doubt about it, and that the laws are plainly against the constitution. Mr. 
 Madison s letters, already referred to, contain, in my judgment, by far the most 
 able exposition extant of this part of the constitution. He has satisfied me, so 
 far as the practice of the government had left it an open question. 
 
 With a great majority of the representatives of Massachusetts, I voted 
 against the tariff of 1824. My reasons were then given, and I will not now 
 repeat them. But noth withstanding our dissent, the great states of New York, 
 Pennsylvania, Ohio, and Kentucky vient for the bill, in almost unbroken 
 column, and it passed. Congress and the president sanctioned it, and it be 
 came the law of the land. What, then, were we to do? Our only option 
 was either to fall in with this settled course of public policy, and to accommo 
 date ourselves to it as well as we could, or to embrace the South Carolina doc 
 trine, and talk of nullifying the statute by state interference. 
 
 The last alternative did not suit our principles, and, of course, we adopted 
 the former. In 1827, the subject came again before Congress, on a proposi 
 tion favorable to wool and woollens. We looked upon the system of protec 
 tion as being fixed and settled. The law of 1824 remained. It had gone 
 into full operation, and in regard to some objects intended by it, perhaps most 
 of them had produced all its expected effects. No man proposed to repeal 
 it no man attempted to renew the general contest on its principle. But, 
 owing to subsequent and unforeseen occurrences, the benefit intended by it to 
 wool and woollen fabrics had not been realized. Events, not known here 
 when the law passed, and had taken place, which defeated its object in that 
 particular respect. A measure was accordingly brought forward to meat this 
 precise .deficiency, to remedy this particular defect. It was limited to wool 
 and woollens. Was ever any thing more reasonable ? If the policy of the 
 tariff laws had become established in principle as the permanent policy of the 
 government, should they not be revised and amended, and made equal, like 
 other laws, as exigencies should arise, or justice require ? Because we had 
 doubted about adopting the system, were we to refuse to cure its manifest 
 defe.cts after it became adopted, and when no one attempted its repeal ? And 
 this, sir, is the inconsistency so much bruited. I had voted against the tariff 
 of 1824 but it passed; and in 1827 and 1828, I voted to amend it in a 
 point essential to the interest of my constituents Where is the inconsistency ? 
 
 Could I do otherwise ? , 
 lo 
 
194 
 
 Sir, does political consistency consist in always giving negative votes? 
 Does it require of a publicinan to refuse to concur in amending Jaws because 
 they passed against his consent? Having voted against the tariff originally, 
 does consistency demand that I should do all in my power to maintain an 
 unequal tariff, burdensome to my own constituents, in many respects, favor 
 able in none? To consistency of that sort I lay no claim; and there is 
 /another sort to which I lay as little and that is, a kind of consistency by 
 / which persons feel themselves as much bound to oppose a proposition after it 
 has become the law of the land as before. 
 
 The bill of 1827, limited, as I have said, to the single object in which the 
 tariff of 18*24 had manifestly failed in its effect, passed the House of Repre 
 sentatives, but was lost here. We- had then the act of 1828. I need not 
 recur to the history of a measure so recent. Its enemies spiced it with what 
 soever they thought would render it distasteful; its friends took it, drugged as 
 it was. Vast amounts of property, many millions, had been invested in 
 manufactures, under the inducements of the act of 1 824. Events called 
 loudly, I thought for further regulations to secure the degree of protection in 
 tended by that act. I was disposed to vote for such regulations, and desired 
 nothing more ; but certainly was not to be bantered out of my purpose by a 
 threatened augmentation of duty on molasses, put into the bill for the avowed 
 purpose of making it obnoxious. The vote may have been right or wrong, 
 wise or unwise; but it is little less than absurd to allege against it an incon 
 sistency with opposition to the former law. 
 
 Sir, as to the general subject of the tariff, I have little now to say. 
 Another opportunity may be presented. I remarked, the other day, that this 
 policy did not begin with us in New England; and yet, sir, New England is 
 charged with vehemence as being favorable, or charged with equal vehemence 
 as being unfavorable, to the tariff policy, just as best suits the time, place, and 
 occasion for making some charge against her. The credulity of the public 
 has been put to its extreme capacity of false impression relative to her conduct 
 in this particular. Through all the south, during the late contest, it was New 
 England policy, and a New England administration, that was inflicting the 
 country with a tariff policy beyond all endurance, while on the other side of 
 the Alleghany, even the act of 1828 itself the very sublimated essence of 
 oppression, according to southern opinions was pronounced to be one of 
 those blessings for which the west was indebted to the " generous south." 
 
 With large investments in manufacturing establishments, and various inter 
 ests connected with and dependent on them, it is not to be expected that New 
 England, any more than other portions of the country, will now consent to 
 any measures destructive or highly dangerous. The duty of the government, 
 at the present moment, would seem to be to preserve, not to destroy; to main 
 tain the position which it has assumed ; and for one, I shall feel it an indis 
 pensable obligation to hold it steady, as far as in my power, to that degree 
 .of protection which it has undertaken to bestow. No more of the tariff. 
 
 Professing to be provoked by what he chose to consider a charge luadu 1>}T 
 Hie against South Carolina, the honorable member, Mr. President, has taken 
 up a new crusade against New England. Leaving altogether the subject of 
 the public lands, in which his success, perhaps, had been neither distinguished 
 nor satisfactory, and letting go, also, of the topic of the tariff, he sallied forth 
 in a general assault on the opinions, politics, and parties of New England, as 
 they have been exhibited in the last thirty years. This is natural. The^nar- 
 
195 
 
 yw jpoliey." -of the puhlicjanda^had proy.ec! a legal settlement in South 
 VCarolina, and was not to be removed. The "accursed policy " of the tang 
 also, had_established the fact of its birth and pirmtti^n in thft same state.^ 
 No wonder, therefore, the gentleman wished to carry the war, as he expressed 
 it, into the enemy s country, Prudently willing to quit these subjects, he was 
 doubtless desirous of fastening others, which could not be transferred south of 
 Mason and Dixon s line. The politics of New England became his theme ; 
 and it was in this part of his speech, I think, that he menaced me with such 
 sore discomfiture, , 
 
 Discomfiture ! wny, sir, when he attacks any thing which I maintain, and 
 overthrows it; when he turns the right or left of any position which I take 
 up; when he drives me from any ground I choose to occupy, he may then 
 talk of discomfiture, but not till that distant day. What has he done ? Has 
 he maintained his own charges ? Has he proved what he alleged ? Has he 
 sustained himself in his attack on the government, and on the history of the 
 north, in the matter of the public lands ? Has he disproved a fact, refuted a 
 proposition, weakened an argument maintained by me? Has he come within 
 beat of drum of any position of mine? 0, no; but he has "carried the 
 war into the enemy s country ! " Carried the war into the enemy s country ! 
 Yes, sir, and what sort of a war has he made of it ? Why, sir, he has stretched 
 a dragnet over the whole surface of perished pamphlets, indiscreet sermons, 
 frothy paragraphs, and fuming popular addresses ; over whatever tjie pulpit in 
 its moments of alarm, the press in its heats, and parties in their extravagances, 
 have severally thrown off, in times of general excitement and violence. He 
 has thus swept together a mass of such things, as, but that they are now old, 
 the public health would have required him rather to leave in their state of 
 dispersion. 
 
 For a good long hour or two, we had the unbroken pleasure of listening to 
 the honorable member, while he recited, with his usual grace and spirit, and with 
 evident high gusto, speeches, pamphlets, addresses, and all that et ceteras of the 
 political press, such as warm heads produce in warm times, and such as it 
 would be " discomfiture " indeed for any one, whose taste did not delight in 
 that sort of reading, to be obliged to peruse. This is his war. This is to 
 carry the war into the enemy s country. It is in an invasion of this sort that 
 he flatters himself with the expectation of gaining laurels fit to adorn a 
 senator s brow. 
 
 Mr. President, I shall not, it will, I trust, not be expected that I should, 
 either now or at any time, separate this farrago into parts, and answer and ex 
 amine its components. I shall hardly bestow upon it all a general remark or 
 two. In the run of forty years, sir, under this constitution, we have experienced 
 sundry succes ive violent party contests. Party arose, indeed, with the con 
 stitution itself, and in some form or other has attended through the greater 
 part of its history. 
 
 Whether any other constitution than the old articles of confederation was 
 desirable, was itself, a question on which parties divided ; if a new constitution 
 was framed, what powers should be given to it was another question ; and 
 when it had been formed, what was, in fact, the just extent of the powers 
 actually conferred, was a third. Parties, as we know, existed under the first 
 administration, as distinctly marked as those which manifested themselves at 
 any subsequent period. 
 
 The contest immediately preceding the political change in 1801, and that, 
 
196 
 
 again, which existed at the commencement of the late war, are other instances 
 of party excitement, of something more than usual strength and intensity. 
 In all these conflicts there was, no doubt, much of violence on both and all 
 sides. It would be impossible, if one had a fancy for such employment, to 
 adjust the relative quantum of violence between these two contending Dailies. 
 There was enough in each, as must always be expected in popular governments. 
 With a great deal of proper and decorous discussion there was mingled a great 
 deal, also, of declamation, virulence, crimination, and abuse. 
 
 In regard to any party, probably, at one of the leading epochs in the history 
 of parties, enough may he found to make out another equally inflamed exhi 
 bition as that which the honorable member has edified us. For myself, sir, 
 I shall not rake among the rubbish of by-gone times to see what I can find, or 
 whether I cannot find something by which I can fix a blot an the escutcheon 
 of any state, any party, or any part of the country. General Washington s 
 administration was steadily and zealously maintained, as we all know, by New 
 England. It was violently opposed elsewhere. We know in what quarter he 
 had the most earnest, constant, and persevering support, in all his great and 
 leading measures. We know where his private and personal character was 
 held in the highest degree of attachment and veneration ; and we know, too, 
 where his measures were opposed, his services slighted, and his character 
 villified. 
 
 We knctfv, or we might know, if we turn to the journals, who expressed 
 respect^ gratitude, and regret, when he retired from the chief magistracy ; and 
 who refused to express either respect, gratitude or regret. I shall not open 
 those journals. Publications more abusive or scurrilous never saw the light 
 than were sent forth against Washington, and all his leading measures, from 
 presses south of New England ; but I shall not look them up. I employ no 
 scavengers no one is in attendance on me, tendering such means of retalia 
 tion ; and if there were, with an ass s load of them, with a bulk as huge as 
 that which the gentleman himself has produced, I would not touch one of 
 them. I see enough of the violence of our own times to be no way anxious 
 to rescue from forgetfulness the extravagances of times past. Besides, what is 
 all this to the present purpose ? It has nothing to do with the public lands, 
 in regard to which the attack was begun ; and it has nothing to do with those 
 sentiments and opinions, which I have thought tend to disunion, and all of 
 which the honorable member seems to have adopted himself, and undertaken 
 to defend. New England has, at times, so argues the gentleman, held 
 opinions as dangerous as those which he now holds. Be -it so. But why, 
 therefore, does he abuse New England ? If he finds himself countenanced by 
 acts of hers, how is it that, while he relies on these acts, he covers, or seeks to 
 cover, their authors with reproach ? 
 
 But, sir, if, in the course of forty years, there have been undue effervescences 
 of party in New England, has the same thing happened no where else ? 
 Party animosity aud party outrage, not in New England, but elsewhere, 
 denounced President Washington, not only as a federalist, but as a tory, a 
 British agent, a man who, in his high office, sanctioned corruption. But does 
 the honorable member suppose that, if I had a tender here, who should put 
 uch an eftusion of wickedness and folly in my hand, that I would stand up 
 and read it against the south ? Parties ran into great heats again, in 1799. 
 What was said, sir, or rather what was not said, in those years, against John 
 Adams, one of the signers of the Declaration of Independence, and its admit 
 ted ablest defender on the floor of Congress ? If the gentleman wants to 
 
197 
 
 increase his stores of party abuse and frothy violence, if he Las a determined 
 proclivity to such pursuits, there are treasures of that sort south of the Potomac, 
 much to his taste, yet untouched. I shall not touch them. 
 
 The parties which divided the country, at the commencement of the late 
 war, were violent. But, then, there was violence on both sides, and violence in. 
 every state. Minorities and majorities were equally violent. There was no 
 more violence against the war in New England than in other states; nor any 
 more appearance of violence, except that, owing to a dense population, greater 
 facility for assembling, and more presses, there may have been more, in quanti 
 ty, spoken and printed there than in some other places. In the article of 
 sermons, too, New England is somewhat more abundant than South Carolina; 
 and for that reason, the chance of finding here and there an exceptionable one 
 may be greater. I hope too, there are more good ones. Opposition may 
 have been more formidable in New England, as it embraced a larger portion 
 of the whole population ; but it was no more unrestrained in its principle, or 
 violent in manner. The minorities dealt quite as harshly with their own state 
 governments as the majorities dealt with the administration here. There were 
 presses on both sides, popular meetings on both sides, ay, and pulpits on both 
 sides, also. The gentleman s purveyors have only catered for him among the 
 productions of one side. I certainly shall not supply the deficiency by furnish 
 ing samples of the other. I leave to him, and to them, the whole concern. 
 
 It is enough for me to say, that if, in any part of this, their grateful occupa 
 tion if in all their researches they find any thing in the history of Massa 
 chusetts, or New England, or in the proceedings of any legislative or other 
 public body, disloyal to the Union, speaking slightly of its value, proposing to 
 break it up, or recommending non-intercourse with neighboring states, on 
 account of difference of political opinion, then, sir, I give them all up to the 
 honorable gentleman s unrestrained rebuke ; expecting, however, that he will 
 extend his buffetings, in like manner, to all similar proceedings, wherever else 
 found. 
 
 " 1 e gentleman, sir, has spoken at large of former parties, now no longer in 
 , by their received appellations, and has undertaken to instruct us, not 
 n the knowledge of their principles, but of their respective pedigrees ako. 
 as ascended to their origin, and run out their genealogies. With most 
 plary modesty, he speaks of the party to which he professes to have 
 himself, as the true, pure, the only honest, patriotic party, derived by 
 regular descent, from father to son, from the time of the virtuous Romans ! 
 Spreading before us the family tree of political parties, he takes especial care^. 
 to show himself snugly perched on a popular bough ! He is wakeful to-tfte^ 
 expediency of ad opting such rules of descent, for political parties, as shall bring 
 him in, in exclusion of others, as an heir to the inheritance of all public virtue, 
 and all true political principles. His doxy is always orthodoxy. Heterodoxy 
 is confined to his opponents. He spoke, sir, of the federalists, and I thought I 
 saw some eyes begin to open and stare a little, when he ventured on that 
 ground. I expected he would draw his sketches rather lightly, when he 
 looked on the circle round him, and especially if he should cast his thoughts 
 to the high places out of the Senate. Nevertheless, he went back to Rome, 
 ad annum urbiscondita, and found the fathers of the federalists in the prime 
 val aristocrats of that renowned empire ! He traced the flow of federal blood 
 down through successive ages and centuries, till he got into the veins of the 
 American tories, (of whom, by the way, there were twenty in the Carolinas 
 for one in Massachusetts.) From the tories, he followed it to the federalists j 
 
 ^ ^ ifte g 
 
 fe^ 
 
 PTC has a 
 
 ^exemplar 
 
 belonged 
 
198 
 
 and as the federal party was broken up, and there was no possibility of trans 
 mitting it farther on this side of the Atlantic, he seems to have discovered that 
 it has gone orlj collaterally, though against all the canons of descent, into the 
 ultras of France, and finally became extinguished, like exploded gas, among 
 the adherents of Don Miguel. 
 
 This, sir, is an abstract of the gentleman s history of federalism. I am not 
 about to controvert it. It is not, at present, worth the pains of refutation, 
 because, sir, if at this day one feels the sin of federalism lying heavily on his 
 conscience, he can easily obtain remission. He may even have an indulgence, 
 if he is desirous of repeating the transgression. It is an affair of no difficulty 
 to get into this same right line of patriotic descent. A man, nowadays, is at 
 liberty to choose his political parentage. He may elect his own father. 
 Federalist or not, he may, if he choose, claim to belong to the favored stock, 
 and his claim will be allowed. He may carry back his pretensions just as far 
 as the honorable gentleman himself; nay, he may make himself out the hon 
 orable gentleman s cousin, and prove satisfactorily that he is descended from 
 the same political great-grandfather. All this is allowable. We all know a 
 process, sir, by which the whole Essex Junto could, in one hour, be all washed 
 white from their ancient federalism, and come out every one of them, an orig 
 inal democrat, dyed in the wool ! Some of them have actually undergone the 
 operation, and they say it is quite easy. The only inconvenience it occasions, 
 as they tell us, is a slight tendency of the blood to the face, a soft suffusion, 
 which, however, is very transient, since nothing is said calculated to deepen the 
 red on the cheek, but a prudent silence observed in regard to all the past. 
 Indeed, sir, some smiles of approbation have been bestowed, and some crumbs 
 of comfort have fallen, not a thousand miles from the door of the Hartford 
 Convention itself. And if the author of the ordinance of 1787 possessed the 
 other requisite qualifications, there is no knowing, notwithstanding his federal 
 ism, to what heights of favor he might not yet attain. 
 
 Mr. President, in carrying his warfare, such as it was, into New England, 
 the honorable gentleman all along professes to be acting on the defensive, 
 desires to consider me as having assailed South Carolina, and insists th 
 comes forth only as her champion, and in her defence. Sir, I do not a 
 that I made any attack whatever on South Carolina. Nothing like it. 
 honorable member, in his first speech, expressed opinions, in regard to revenue, 
 and some other topics, which I heard both with pain and surprise. I told the 
 gentleman that I was aware that such sentiments were entertained OUT of the 
 government, but had not expected to find them advanced in it; that I knew 
 there were persons in the south who speak of our Union with indifference, or 
 doubt, taking pains to magnify its evils, and to say nothing of its benefits ; 
 that the honorable member himself, I was sure, could never be one of these; 
 and I regretted the expression of such opinions as he had avowed, because I 
 thought their obvious tendency was to encourage feelings of disrespect to the 
 Union, and to weaken its connection. This, sir, is the sum and substance of all 
 I said on the subject. And this constitutes the attack which called on the 
 chivalry of the gentleman, in his opinion, to harry us with such a forage among 
 the party pamphlets and party proceedings of Massachusetts. If he means 
 that I spoke with dissatisfaction or disrespect of the ebullitions of individuals 
 in South Carolina, it is true. But, if he means that I had assailed the char 
 acter of the state, her honor, or patriotism, that I had reflected on her history 
 or her conduct, he had not the slightest ground for any such assumption. I 
 did not even refer, I think, in my observations, to any collection of individuals. 
 
199 
 
 I said nothing of the recent conventions. I spoke in the most guarded and 
 careful manner, and only expressed my regret for the publication of opinions 
 which I presumed the honorable member disapproved as much as myself. In 
 this, it seems, I was mistaken. 
 
 I do not remember that the gentleman has disclaimed any sentiment, or 
 any opinion, of a supposed anti-Union tendency, which on all or any of the 
 recent occasions has been expressed. The whole drift of his speech has been 
 rather to prove, that, in divers times and manners, sentiments equally liable to 
 objection have been promulgated in New England. And one would suppose 
 that his object, in this reference to Massachusetts, was to find a precedent to 
 justify proceedings in the south, were it not for the reproach and contumely 
 with which he labors, all along, to load his precedents. 
 
 By way of defending South Carolina from what he chooses to think an 
 attack on her, he first quotes the example of Massachusetts, and then denoun 
 ces that example, in good set terms. This twofold purpose, not very consistent 
 with itself, one would think, was exhibited more than once in the course of 
 his speech. He referred, for instance, to the Hartford Convention. Did he 
 do this for authority, or for a topic of reproach ? Apparently for both ; for ho 
 told us that he should find no fault with the mere fact of holding such a 
 convention, and considering and discussing such questions as he supposes were 
 then and there discussed ; but what rendered it obnoxious was the time it was 
 holden, and the circumstances of the country then existing. We were in a 
 war, he said, and the country needed all our aid; the hand of government 
 required to be strengthened, not weakened; and patriotism should liava 
 postponed such proceedings to another day. The thing itself, then, is a pre 
 cedent : the time and manner of it, only, subject of censure. 
 
 Now, sir, I go much farther, on this point, than the honorable member- 
 Supposing, as the gentleman seems to, that the Hartford Convention assem 
 bled for any such purpose as breaking up the Union, because they thought 
 unconstitutional laws had been passed, or to concert on that subject, or tcj 
 calculate the value of the Union ; supposing this to be their purpose, or any f 
 part of it, then I say the meeting itself was disloyal, and obnoxious to censure, J 
 whether held in time of peace, or time of war, or under whatever circumstan 
 ces. The material matter is the object. Is dissolution the object ? If it be, 
 external circumstances may make it a more or less aggravated case, but cannot, 
 affect the principle. I do not hold, therefore, that the Hartford Convention A 
 was pardonable, even to the extent of the gentleman s admission, if its objects 
 were really such as have been imputed to it. Sir, there never was a time, 
 . under any degree of excitement, in which the Hartford Convention, or any 
 other convention, could maintain itself one moment in New England, if assem 
 bled for any such purpose as the gentleman says would have been an allowable 
 purpose. To hold conventions to decide questions of constitutional law ! to 
 try the validity of statutes, by votes in a convention! Sir, the Hartford Con 
 vention, I presume, would not desire that the honorable gentleman should be 
 their defender or advocate, if he puts their case upon such untenable and 
 extravagant grounds. 
 
 Then, sir, the gentleman has no fault to find with these recently-promulga 
 ted South Carolina opinions. And, certainly, he need have none; for his own 
 sentiments, as now advanced, and advanced on reflection, as far as I have been 
 . able to comprehend them, go the full length of all these opinions. I propose, 
 sir, to say something on these, and to consider how far they are just and con- 
 
200 
 
 stitutional. Before doing that> however, let me observe, that the eulogium 
 pronounced on the character of the state of South Carolina, by the honora 
 ble gentleman, for her revolutionary and other merits, meets my hearty con 
 currence. I shall not acknowledge that tlie honorable member goes before 
 me in regard for whatever of distinguished talent or distinguished character 
 South Carolina has produced. I claim part of the honor, I partake in the 
 pride, of her great names. I claim them for countrymen, one and all. The 
 Lauren-ses, the Rutledges, the Pinckneys, the Sumpters, the Marions Ameri 
 cans all whose fame is no more to be hemmed in by state lilies than their 
 talents and their patriotism were capable of being circumscribed within the 
 same narrow limits. In their day and generation, they served and honored 
 the country, and the whole country ; and their renown is of the treasures of 
 the whole country. Him whose honored name the gentleman himself bears 
 - does he suppose me less capable of gratitude for his patriotism, or sympa 
 thy for his sufferings, than if his eyes had first opened upon the light in Mas 
 sachusetts instead of South Carolina ? Sir, does he suppose it is in his power 
 to exhibit a Carolina name so bright as to produce envy in my bosom ? 2s T o, 
 sir, increased gratification and delight, rather. 
 
 Sir, I thank God that if I am gifted with little of the spirit which is said 
 to be able to raise mortals to the skies, I have yet none, as 1 trust^ of that other 
 spirit , which would drag angels down. When I shall be found, sir, in my 
 place here in the Senate, or elsewhere, to sneer at public merit, because it hap 
 pened to spring up beyond the little limits of my own state, or neighborhood ; 
 when I refuse, for any such cause, or for any cause, the homage due to Ameri 
 can talent, to elevated patriotism, to sincere devotion to liberty and the coun 
 try; or if I see an uncommon endowment of Heaven, if I see extraordinary 
 capacity and virtue in any son of the south, and if, moved by local prejudice, 
 or gangrened by state jealousy, I get up here to abate the tithe of a hair from 
 his just character and just fame, may my tongue cleave to the roof of my 
 mouth ! Sir, let me recur to pleasing recollections; let me indulge in refresh 
 ing remembrance of the past; let me remind you that in early times no states 
 cherished greater harmony, both of principle and feeling, than Massachusetts 
 and South Carolina. Would to God that harmony might again return. 
 Shoulder to shoulder they went through the revolution ; hand in hand they 
 stood round the administration of Washington, and felt his own great arm 
 lean on them for support. Unkind feeling, if it exist, alienation, and distrust 
 are the growth, unnatural to such soils, of false principles since sown. They 
 are weeds, the seeds of which that same great arm never scattered. 
 
 Mr. President, I shall enter on no encomium upon Massachusetts she 
 needs nor>e. There she is behold her, and judge for yourselves. There is 
 her history the world knows it by heart. The past, at least, is secure. 
 There is Boston, and Concord, and Lexington, and Bunker Hill; and there 
 they will remain forever. The bones of her sons, fallen in the great struggle 
 for independence, now lie mingled with the soil of every state from |New Eng 
 land to Georgia ; and there they will lie forever. And, sir, where;/ American 
 liberty raised its first voice, and where its youth was nurtured anAsustained, 
 there it still lives, in the strength of its manhood, and full of it^6rig\ial spirit. 
 If discord and disunion shall wound it ; if folly and maJfcess, if uneasiness 
 under salutary and necessary restraint, shall succeed to separate it from that 
 Union by which alone its existence is made sure, it will stand, in the end, 
 by the side of that cradle in which its infancy was rocked; it will stretch 
 forth its arm, with whatever vigor it may still retain, over the friends who 
 
201 
 
 gather around it ; and it will fall at last, if fall it must> amidst the proudest | 
 
 monuments of its glory, and on the very spot of its origin. \ 
 
 V[ There yet remains to be pertormeci, Mr. President, by fir the most grave 
 and important duty ; which I i eel to be devolved on me by this occasion. It 
 is to state, and to defend, what I conceive to be the true principles of the con 
 stitution under which we are here assembled. I might well have desired 
 that so weighty a task should have fallen into other and abler hands. I could 
 have wished that it should have been executed by those whose character and 
 experience give weight and influence to their opinions, such as cannot possibly 
 belong to mine. But, sir, I have met the occasion, not sought it; and I shall 
 proceed to state my own sentiments, without challenging for them any parti 
 cular regard, with studied plainness and as much precision as possible. 
 
 I understand the honorable gentle man 1 from South Carolina to maintain 
 that it is a right of the state legislatures to interfere, whenever, in their judg 
 ment, this government transcends its constitutional limits, and to arrest the 
 operation of its laws. 
 
 I understand him to maintain this right as a right existing under the con 
 stitution, not as a right to overthrow it, on the ground of extreme necessity, 
 such as would justify violent revolution. 
 
 I understand him to maintain an authority, on the part of the states, thus 
 to interfere, for the purpose of correcting the exercise of power by the general 
 government, of checking it, and of compelling it to conform to their opinion 
 of the extent of its power. 
 
 I understand him to maintain that the ultimate power of judging of th 
 constitutional extent of its own authority is not lodged exclusively in the 
 general government or any branch of it; but that, on the contrary, the 
 states may lawfully decide for themselves, and each state for itself, 
 whether, in a given case, the act of the general government transcends its 
 power. 
 
 I undertand him to insist that, if the exigency of the case, in the opinion 
 of any state government, require it, such state government may, by its own 
 sovereign authority, annul an act of the general government which it deems 
 plainly and palpably unconstitutional. 
 
 This is the sum of what I understand from him to be the South Carolina 
 doctrine. I propose to consider it, and to compare it with the constitution. 
 Allow me to say, as a preliminary remark, that I call this the South Carolina 
 doctrine, only because the gentleman himself has so denominated it. I do 
 not feel at liberty to say that South Carolina, as a state, has ever advanced 
 these sentiments. I hope she has not, and never may. That a great majority 
 of her people are opposed to the tariff laws is doubtless true. That a majority 
 ty, somewhat less than that just mentioned, conscientiously believe these laws 
 unconstitutional, may probably be also true. But that any majority holds to 
 the right of direct state interference, at state discretion, the right of nullify 
 ing acts of Congress by acts of state legislation, is more than I know, an 1 
 what I shall be slow to believe. 
 
 That there are individuals, besides the honorable gentleman, who do main 
 tain these opinions, is quite certain. I recollect the recent expression of a 
 sentiment which circumstances attending its utterance and publication 
 justify us in supposing was not unpremeditated " The sovereignty of the 
 state; never to be controlled, construed, or decided on. but bv her own feelings 
 of honorable justice." 
 
 [Mr. HAYNE here rose, and said, that, for the purpose of being clearly ua- 
 
202 
 
 derstood, he would state that his proposition was in the words of the Virginia 
 resolution, as follows : 
 
 " That this Assembly doth explicitly and peremptorily declare, that it views 
 the powers of the federal government, as resulting from the compact, to which 
 the states are parties, as limited by the plain sense and intention of the instru 
 ment constituting that compact, as no further valid than they are authorized 
 by the grants enumerated in that compact; and that,4n case of a deliberate, 
 palpable, and dangerous exercise of other powers not granted by the same 
 compact, the states who are parties thereto have the right and are in duty 
 bound, to interpose for arresting the progress of the evil, and for maintaining, 
 within their respective limits, the authorities, rights, and liberties pertaining 
 to them."] 
 
 Mr. WEBSTER resumed: 
 
 I am quite aware, Mr. President, of the existence of the resolution which 
 the gentleman read, and has now repeated, and that he relies on it as his au 
 thority ^ I know the source, too, from which it is undertsood to have pro 
 ceeded. I need not say, that I have much respect for the constitutional opin 
 ions of Mr. Madison; they would weigh greatly with me, always. But, be 
 fore the authority of his opinion be vouched for the gentleman s proposition, 
 it will be proper to consider what is the fair interpretation of that resolution, 
 to which Mr. Madison is understood to have given his sanction. As the gen 
 tleman construes it, it is an authority for him. Possibly he may not have 
 adopted the right construction. That resolution declares, that in the case of 
 the dangerous exercise of powers not granted by the general government, 
 the states may interpose to arrest the progress of the evil. But how inter 
 pose ? and what does this declaration purport ? Does it mean no more than 
 that there may be extreme cases in which the people, in any mode of assem 
 bling, may resist usurpation, and relieve themselves from a tyrannical govern 
 ment ? No one will deny this. Such resistance is not only acknowledged to 
 be just in America, but in England also. Blackstone admits as much, in the 
 theory and practice, too, of the English constitution. We, sir, who oppose 
 the Carolina doctrine, do not deny that the people may, if they choose, throw 
 off any government, when it becomes oppressive and intolerable, and erect a 
 better in its stead. We all know that civil institutions are established for the 
 public benefit, and that, when they cease to answer the ends of their existence 
 they may be changed. 
 
 But I do not understand the doctrine now contended for to be that which, 
 for the sake of distinctness, we may call the right of revolution. I under 
 stand the gentleman to maintain, that without revolution, without civil com 
 motion, without rebellion, a remedy for supposed abuse and transgression of 
 the powers of the general government lies in a direct appeal to the interfer 
 ence of the state governments. [Mr. HAYNB here rose: He did not con 
 tend, he said, for the mere right of revolution, but for the right of constitu 
 tional resistance. What he maintained was, that, in case of a plain, palpable 
 violation of the constitution by the general government, a state may inter 
 pose ; and that this interpoeition is constitutional.] 
 
 Mr. WEBSTER resumed : 
 
 YSo, sir, I understood the gentleman, and am happy to find that I did noi 
 misunderstand him. What he contends for is, that it is constitutional to in 
 terrupt the administration of the constitution itself, in the hands of those who 
 are chosen and sworn to administer it, by the direct interference, in form of 
 kw, of the states, in virtue of their sovereign capacity. The inherent right in 
 
203 
 
 *he people to reform their government I do not deny ; and that they have 
 another right, and that is, to resist unconstitutional laws without overturning 
 the government. It is no doctrine of mine, that unconstitutional laws bind 
 the people. The great question is, Whose prerogative is it to decide on the ^ 
 constitutionality or unconstitutionality of the laws? On that the main de 
 bate hinges. The proposition that, in case of a supposed violation of the con 
 stitution by Congress, the states have a constitutional right to interfere, and 
 annul the law of Congress, is the proposition of the gentleman ; I do not ad 
 mit it. If the gentleman had intended no more than to assert the right of 
 revolution for justifiable cause, he would have said only what all agree to. 
 But I cannot conceive that there can be a middle course between submis 
 sion to the laws, when regularly pronounced constitutional, on the one hand, 
 and open resistance, which is revolution or rebellion, on the other. I say the 
 right of a state to annul a law of Congress cannot be maintained but on the 
 ground of the unalienable right of man to resist oppression ; that is to say, 
 upon the ground of revolution. I admit that there is no ultimate violent 
 remedy, above the constitution, and in defiance of the constitution, which may 
 be resorted to, when a revolution is to be justified. But I do not admit that 
 under the constitution, and in conformity with it, there is any mode in which 
 a state government, as a member of the Union, can interfere and stop the pro 
 gress of the general government, by force of her own laws, under any cir 
 cumstances whatever. 
 
 This leads us to inquire into the origin of this government, and the source 
 of its power. Whose agent is it ? Is it the creature of the state legislatures, 
 or the creature of the people ? If the government of the United States be 
 the agent of the state governments, then they may control it, provided they 
 can agree in the manner of controlling it ; if it is the agent of the people, 
 then the people alone err control it, restrain it, modify or reform it. It is ob 
 servable enough, that the doctrine for which the honorable gentleman con 
 tends, loads him to the necessity of maintaining, not only that this general 
 government is the creature of the states, but that it is the creature of each of 
 the states severally ; so that each may assert the power, for itself, of determin 
 ing whether it acts within the limits of its authority. It is the servant of four 
 and twenty masters, of different wills and different purposes ; and yet bound 
 to obey all. This absurdity (for it seems no less) arises from a misconception 
 as to the origin of this government, and its true character. It is, sir, the peo 
 ple s constitution, the people s government; made for the people; made by the 
 people ; and answerable to the people. The people of the United States have 
 declared that this constitution shall be the supreme law. We must either ad 
 mit the proposition, or dispute their authority. The states are unquestionably 
 sovereign, so far as their sovereignty is not affected by this supreme law. The 
 state legislatures, as political bodies, however sovereign, are yet not sovereign 
 over the people. So far as the people have given power to the general gov 
 ernment, so far the grant is unquestionably good, and the government holds 
 of the people, and not of the state governments. We are all agents of the 
 same supreme power, the people. The general government and the state gov 
 ernments derive their authority from the same source. Neither can, in rela 
 tion to the other, be called primary; though one is definite and restricted, and 
 the other general and residuary. 
 
 The national government possesses those powers which it can be shown the 
 people have conferred on it, and no more. All the rest belongs to the state 
 governments, or to the people themselves. So far as the people have restrain- 
 
204 
 
 ed state sovereignty by the expression of their will, in the constitution of the 
 United States, so far, it must be admitted, state sovereignty is effectually con 
 trolled. I do not contend that it is, or ought to be, controlled further. The 
 sentiment to which I have referred propounds that state sovereignty is only to 
 be controlled by its own "feelings of justice;" that is to say, it is not to be 
 controlled at all; for one who is to follow his feelings, is under no legal con 
 trol. Now, however men may think this ought to be, the fact is, that the peo 
 ple of the United States have chosen to impose control on state sovereignties. 
 The constitution has ordered the matter differently from what this opinion an 
 nounces. To make war, for instance, is an exercise of sovereignty ; but the 
 constitution declares that no state shall make war. To coin money is another 
 exercise of sovereign power; but no state is at liberty to coin money. Again: 
 the constitution says, that no sovereign state shall be so sovereign as to make a 
 treaty. These prohibitions, it must be confessed, are a control on the state 
 sovereignty of South Carolina, as well as of the other states, which does not 
 arise "from feelings of honorable justice." Such an opinion, therefore, ia in 
 defiance of the plainest provisions of the constitution. 
 
 There are other proceedings of public bodies which have already been al 
 luded to, and to which I refer again for the purpose of ascertaining more ful 
 ly what is the length and breadth of that doctrine, denominated the Carolina 
 doctrine, which the honorable member has now 7 stood up on this floor to 
 maintain. 
 
 In one of them I find it resolved that "the tariff of 1828, and every other 
 tariff designed to promote one branch of industry at the expense of others* 
 is contrary to the meaning and intention of the federal compact; and as such 
 a dangerous, palpable, and deliberate usurpation of power, by a determined 
 majority, wielding the general government beyond the. limits of its delegated 
 powers, as calls upon the states which compose the suffering minority, in their 
 sovereign capacity, to exercise the powers which, as sovereigns, necessarily de 
 volve upon them, when their compact is violated." 
 
 Observe, sir, that this resolution holds the tariff of 1828, and every other 
 tariff , designed to promote one branch of industry at the expense of ^another, 
 to be such a dangerous, palpable, and deliberate usurpation of power, as calls 
 upon the states, in their sovereign capacity, to interfere, by their own power. 
 This denunciation, Mr. President, you will please to observe, includes our old 
 tariff of 1810, as well as all others; because that was established to promote 
 the interest of the manufacturers of cotton, to the manifest and admitted injury 
 of the Calcutta cotton trade. Observe, again, that all the qualifications are 
 here rehearsed, and charged upon the tariff, which are necessary to bring the 
 case within the gentleman s proposition. The tariff" is a usurpation; it is a 
 dangerous usurpation ; it is a palpable usurpation ; it is a deliberate usurpa 
 tion. It is such a usurpation as calls upon the states to exercise their light 
 of interferance. Here is a case, then, within the gentleman s principles, and 
 all his qualifications of his principles. It is a case for action. The constitu 
 tion is plainly, dangerously, palpably, and deliberately violated ; and the states 
 must interpose their own authority to arrest the law. Let us suppose the 
 state of South Carolina to express this same opinion, by the voice of her le 
 gislature. That would be very imposing; but what then? Is the voice of 
 one state conclusive? It so happens that, at the very moment when South 
 Carolina resolves that the tariff lavs are unconstitutional, Pennsylvania ana 
 Kentucky resolve exactly the reverse. They hold those laws to be both high- 
 Jy proper and strictly constitutional. And now r , sic, how does the honorabk 
 
205 
 
 member propose to deal with, this case ? How does he get out of this diffi 
 culty, upon any principle of his? His construction gets us into it; how does 
 he propose to get us out? 
 
 In Carolina, the tariff is a palpable, deliberate usurpation ; Carolina, there 
 fore, may nullify it, and refuse to pay the duties. In Pennsylvania, it is both 
 clearly constitutional and highly expedient; and there the duties are to be 
 paid. And yet we live under a government of uniform laws, and under a 
 constitution, too, which contains an express provision, as it happeLS, that all 
 duties shall be equal in all the states ! Does not this approach absurdity ? 
 
 If there be no power to settle such questions, independent of either of the 
 states, is not the whole Union a rope of sand ? Are we not thrown back again 
 precisely upon the old confederation ? 
 
 It is too plain to be argued. Four and twenty interpreters of constitution 
 al law, each- with a power to decide for itself, and none with authority to bind 
 anybody else, and this constitutional law the only bond of their union ! What 
 is such a state of things but a mere connection during pleasure, or, to use the 
 phraseology of the times, during feeling ? And that feeling, too, not the feel 
 ing of the people who established the constitution, but the feeling of the state 
 governments. 
 
 In another of the South Carolina addresses, having premised that the crisis 
 requires " all the concentrated energy of passion," an attitude of open resis 
 tance to the laws of the Union is advised. Open resistance to the laws, then, 
 is the constitutional remedy, the conservative power of the state, which the 
 South CaroLna doctrines teach for the redress of political evils, real or imagi 
 nary. And its authors further say that, appealing with confidence to the 
 constitution itself to justify their opinions, they cannot consent to try their ac 
 curacy by the courts of justice. In one sense, indeed, sir, this is assuming an 
 attitude of open resistance in favor of liberty. But what sort of liberty ? The 
 liberty of establishing their own opinions, in defiance of the opinions of all 
 others; the liberty of judging and of deciding exclusively themselves, in a 
 matter in which others have as much right to judge and decide as they ; the 
 liberty of placing their opinions above the judgment of all others, above the 
 laws, and above the constitution. This is their liberty, and this is the fair re 
 sult of the proposition contended for by the honorable gentleman. Or it may 
 be more properly said, it is identical with it, rather than a result from it. In 
 the .same publication we find the following : " Previously to our revolution, 
 when the arm of oppression was stretched over New England, where did our 
 .northern brethren meet with a braver sympathy than that which sprung from 
 the bosom of Carolinians ? "We had no extortion, no oppression, no collision 
 with the king s ministers, no navigation interests springing up, in envious 
 rivalry cf England? 
 
 This seems extraordinary language. South Carolina no collision with the 
 king s ministers in 1775! no extortion! no oppression! Fut, sir, it is also 
 most significant language. Does any man doubt the purpose for which it 
 was penned ? Can any one fail to see that it was designed to raise in the 
 reader s mind the question, whether, at this time, that is to say, in 1828, 
 South Carolina has any collision with the king s ministers, any oppression, or 
 extortion, to fear from England ? whether, in short, England is not as natural 
 ly the friend of South Carolina as New England, with her navigation inter 
 ests springing up in envious rivalry of England ? 
 
 Is ii not strange, sir, that an intelligent man in South Carolina, in 1828, 
 should thus labor to prove, that in 1775, there was no hostility, no cause of 
 
206 
 
 wai, between South Carolina and England ? tliat she had no occasion, in re 
 ference to her own interest, or from a regard to her own welfare, to take up 
 arm& in the revolutionary contest? Can any one account for the expression of 
 such strange sentiments, and their circulation through the state, otherwise than 
 by supposing the object to be, what I have already intimated, to raise the 
 question, if they had no " collision " (mark the expression) with the ministers 
 of King George the Third, in 1775, what collision have they, in 1828, with 
 the ministers of King George the Fourth ? What is there now, in the exist 
 ing state of things, to separate Carolina from Old, more, or rather less, than 
 from New England? 
 
 Resolutions, sir, have been recently passed by the legislature of South Car 
 olina. I need not refer to them ; they go no further than the honorable gen 
 tleman himself has gone and I hope not so far. I content myself there 
 fore, with debating the matter with him. 
 
 And now, sir, what I have first to say on this subject is, that at no time, and 
 under no circumstances, has New England, or any state in New England, or 
 any respectable body of persons in New England, or any public man of stand 
 ing in New England, put forth such a doctrine as this Carolina doctrine. 
 
 The gentleman has found no case he can find none to support his own 
 opinions by New England authority. New England has studied the constitu 
 tion in other schools, and under other teachers. She looks upon it with other 
 regards, and deems more highly and reverently, both of its just authority and 
 its utility and excellence. The history of her legislative proceedings may be 
 traced the ephemeral effusions of temporary bodies, called together by the 
 excitement of the occasion, may be hunted up they have been hunted up. 
 The opinions and votes of her public men, in and out of Congress, may be 
 explored it will all be in vain. The Carolina doctrine can derive from her 
 neither countenance nor support. She rejects it now ; she always did reject 
 it. The honorable member has referred to expressions on the subject of the 
 embargo law, made in this place by an honorable and venerable gentleman 
 (MR. HILLIIOUSE) now favoring us with his presence. He quotes that distin 
 guished senator as saying, that in his judgment the embargo law was uncon 
 stitutional, and that, therefore, in his opinion, the people were not bound to 
 obey it. 
 
 That, sir, is perfectly constitutional language. As unconstitutional law is 
 not binding; but then it does not rest witli a resolution or a law of a state 
 legislature to decide whether an act of Congress be or be not constitutional. 
 An unconstitutional act of Congress would not bind the people of this Dis 
 trict although they have no legislature to interfere in their behalf; and, on 
 the other hand, a constitutional law of Congress does bind the citizens of 
 every state, although all their legislatures should undertake to anuul it, by act 
 or resolution. The venerable Connecticut senator is a constitutional lawyer, 
 of sound principles and enlarged knowledge; a statesman practiced and ex 
 perienced, bred in the company of Washington, and holding just views upon 
 the nature of our governments. He believed the embargo unconstitutional, 
 and so did others; but what then ? Who did he suppose was to decide that 
 question ? The state legislature ? Certainly not. No such sentiment ever 
 escaped his lips. Let us follow up, sir, this New England opposition to the 
 embargo laws; let us trace it, till we discern the principle which controlled 
 and governed New England throughout the whole course of that opposition 
 We shall then see what similarity there is between the New England school 
 of constitutional opinions and this modern Carolina school. The gentleman, 
 
207 
 
 I think, read a petition from some single individual, addressed to the legisla 
 ture of Massachusetts, asserting the Carolina doctrine that is, the right of 
 state interference to arrest the laws of the Union. The fate of that petition 
 shows the sentiment of the legislature. It met no favor. The opinions of 
 Massachusetts were otherwise. They had been expressed in 1798, in answer 
 to the resolutions of Virginia, and she did not depart from them, nor bend 
 them to the times. Misgoverned, wronged, oppressed, as she felt herself to 
 be, she still held fast her integrity to the Union. The gentleman may lindin 
 her proceedings much evidence of dissatisfaction with the measures of gov 
 ernment, and great and deep dislike, she claimed no right still to sever asund- 
 der the bonds of the Union. There was heat, and there was anger in her 
 political feeling. Be it so. Her heat or her anger did not, nevertheless, be 
 tray her into infidelity to the government. The gentleman labors to prove 
 that she disliked the embargo as much as South Carolina dislikes the tariftj 
 and expressed her dislike as strongly. Be it so ; but did she propose the 
 Carolina remedy? Did she threaten to interfere, by state authority, to an- 
 nul the laws of the Union? That is the question for the gentleman s con 
 sideration. 
 
 No doubt, sir, a great majority of the people of New England conscien 
 tiously believe the embargo law of 1807 unconstitutional as conscientiously, 
 certainly, as the people of South Carolina hold that opinion of the tariff. 
 They reasoned thus : Congress has power to regulate commerce ; but here is 
 a law, they said, stopping all commerce, and stopping it indefinitely. The 
 law is perpetual, therefore, as the law against treason or murder. Now, is this 
 regulating commerce, or destroying it ? Is it guiding, controling, giving the 
 rule to commerce, as a subsisting thing, or is it putting an end to it alto 
 gether ? Nothing is more certain than that a majority in New England 
 deemed this law a violation of the constitution. This very case required by 
 the gentleman to justify state interference had then arisen. Massachusetts be 
 lieved this law to be "a deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of a 
 power not granted by the constitution" Deliberate it was, for it was long 
 continued ; palpable she thought it, as no words in the constitution gave the 
 power, and only a construction, in her opinion most violent, raised it; danger 
 ous it was, since it threatened utter ruin to her most important interests. 
 Here, then, was a Carolina case. How did Massachusetts deal with it? It 
 was, as she thought, a plain, manifest, palpable violation of the constitution; 
 and it brought ruin to her doors. Thousands of families, and hundreds of 
 thousands of individuals, were beggared by it. "While she saw and felt ill 
 this, she saw and felt, also, that as a measure of national policy, it was perfe jt- 
 ly futile ; that the country was no way benefitted bv that which caused so 
 much individual distress; that it was efficient only for the production of edl, 
 and f. ] \ that evil inflicted on ourselves. In such a case, under such circum 
 stances, how did Massachusetts demean herself? Sir, she remonstrated, she 
 memorialized, she addressed herself to the general government, not exactly 
 " with the concentrated energy of passion," but with her strong sen*?, and the 
 energy of sober conviction. But she did not interpose the arm of her powei 
 to arrest the law, and break the embargo. Far from it. Her principles 
 bound her to two things; and she followed her principles, lead where they 
 might. First, to submit to every constitutional law of Congress ; and second 
 ly, if the constitutional validity of the law b^ doubted, <o refer that question 
 to the decision of the proper tribunals. The first principle is vain and inef 
 fectual without the second. A majority of us in New England believed the 
 
208 
 
 embargo law unconstitutional ; but the great question was, and always will be 
 in such cases, Who is to decide this ? Who is to judge between the people 
 and the government ? And, sir, it is quite plain, that the constitution of the 
 United States confers on the government itself, to be exercised by its appro 
 priate department, this power of deciding, ultimately and conclusively, upon 
 the just extent of its own authority. If this had not been done, we should 
 not have advanced a single step beyond the old confederation. 
 
 Being fully of opinion that the embargo law was unconstitutional, the peo 
 ple of New England were yet equally clear in the opinion it was a matter 
 they did not doubt upon that the question, after all, must be decided by 
 the judicial tribunals of the United States. Before those tribunals, there 
 fore, they brought the question. Under the provisions of the law, they had 
 given bonds, to millions in amount, and which were alleged to be forfeited. 
 They suffered the bonds to be sued, and thus raised the question. In the old- 
 fashioned way of settling disputes, they went to law. The case came to hear 
 ing and solemn argument; and he who espoused their cause and stood up 
 for them against the validity of the act, was none other than that great man, 
 of whom the gentleman has made honorable mention, SAMUEL DEXTER. 
 He was then, sir, in the fullness of his knowledge and the maturity of his 
 strength. He had retired from long and distinguished public service here, to 
 the renewed pursuit of professional duties ; carrying with him all that enlarge 
 ment and expansion, all the new strength and force, which an acquaintance 
 with the more general subjects discussed in the national councils is capable of 
 adding to professional attainment, in a mind of true greatness and compre 
 hension. He was a lawyer, and he was also a statesman. He had studied 
 the constitution, when he filled public station, that he might defend it ; he had 
 examined its principles, that he might maintain them. More than all men, or 
 at least as much as any man, he was attached to the general government, and 
 to the union of the states. His feelings and opinions all ran in that direction. 
 A question of constitutional law, too, was, of all subjects, that one which Was 
 best suited to his talents and learning. Aloof from technicality, and unfet 
 tered by artificial rule, such a question gave opportunity for that deep and 
 clear analysis, that mighty grasp of principle, which so much distinguished 
 his higher efforts. His very statement was argument ; his inference seemed 
 demonstration. The earnestness of his own conviction wrought conviction in 
 others. One was convinced, and believed, and consented, because it was grati 
 fying, delightful, to think, and feel, and believe, in unison with an intellect of 
 such evident superiority. 
 
 Mr. Dexter, sir, such as I have described him, argued the New England 
 cause. He put into his effort his whole heart, as well as all the powers of his 
 understanding; for he had avowed, in the most public manner, his entire con 
 currence with his neighbors, on the point in dispute. He argued the cause; 
 it was lost, and New England submitted. The established tribunals pro 
 nounced the law constitutional, and New England acquiesed. Now, sir, is 
 not this tie exact opposite of the doctrine of the gentleman from South Caro 
 lina ? According to him, instead of referring to the judicial tribunals, we 
 should have broken up the umbargo, by laws of our own ; we should have 
 repealed it, quoad New England ; for we had a strong, palpable, and oppres 
 sive case. Sir, we believe the embargo unconstitutional ; but still, that was 
 matter of opinion, and who was to decide it ? We thought it a clear ca^e ; 
 out, nevertheless, we did not take the laws into our hands, because we did not 
 wish to bring about a revolution, nor to break up the Union; for I main- 
 
209 
 
 tain, that, between submission to the decision of the constituted tribunes, and 
 revolution, or disunion, there is no middle ground there is no ambiguous 
 condition, half allegiance and half rebellion. There is no treason, madcosy. 
 And, sir, how futile, how very futile it is, to admit the right of state interfer 
 ence, and then to attempt to save it from the character of unlawful resistance, 
 by adding terms of qualification to the causes and occasions, leaving all tho 
 qualifications, like the case itself, in the discretion of the state governments. 
 It must be a clear case, it is said ; a deliberate case ; a palpable case ; a dan 
 gerous case. But, then, the state is still left at liberty to decide for herself 
 what is clear, what is deliberate, what is palpable, what is dangerous. 
 
 Do adjectives and epithets avail any thing ? Sir, the human mind is so 
 constituted, that the merits of both sides of a controversy appear very clear, 
 and very palpable, to those who respectively espouse them, and both sides 
 usually grow clearer, as the controversy advances. South Carolina sees un- 
 constitutionality in the tariff she sees oppression there, also, and she sees 
 danger. Pennsylvania, with a vision not less sharp, looks at the same tariff 
 and sees no such thing in it she sees it all constitutional, all useful, all safe. 
 The faith of South Carolina is strengthened by opposition, and she now not 
 only sees, but resolves, that the tariff is palpably unconstitutional, oppressive, 
 and dangerous ; but Pennsylvania, not to be behind her neighbors, and equal 
 ly willing to strengthen her own faith by a confident asseveration, resolves al 
 so, and gives to every warm affirmative of South Carolina, a plain downright 
 Pennsylvania negative. South Carolina to show the strength and unity of 
 her opinions, brings her assembly to a unanimity, within seven votes; Penn 
 sylvania, not to be outdone in this respect more than others, reduces her dis 
 sentient fraction to one vote. Now, sir, again I ask the gentleman, what is 
 to be done ? Are these states both right ? Is he bound to consider them 
 both right ? If not, which is in the wrong ? or, rather, which has the best 
 right to decide ? 
 
 And if he, and if I, are not to know what the constitution means, and what 
 it is, till those two state legislatures, and the twenty-two others, shall agree in 
 its construction what have we sworn to, when we have sworn to maintain ii ? 
 I was forcibly struck, sir, with one reflection, as the gentleman went on with his 
 speech. He quoted Mr. Madison s resolutions to prove that a state may inter 
 fere, in a case of deliberate, palpable, and dangerous exercise of a power not 
 granted. The honorable member supposes the tariff law to be such an exer- 
 cise of power, and that consequently, a case has arisen in which the state 
 may, if it see fit, interfere by its own law. Now, it so happens, nevertheless, 
 that Madison himself deems this same tariff law quite constitutional. Instead 
 of a clear and palpable violation, it is, in his judgment, no violation at all. 
 So that, while they use his authority for a hypothetical case, they reject it in 
 the very case before them. All this, sir, shows the inherent futility. I had 
 almost used a stronger word of conceding this power of interference to he 
 states, and then attempting to secure it from abuse by imposing qualifications 
 of which the states themselves are to judge. One of two things is true ; 
 either the laws of the Union are beyond the control of the states, or else we 
 have no constitution of general government, and are thrust back again to the 
 days of the confederacy. 
 
 Let me here say, sir, that if the gentleman s doctrine had been received and 
 
 acted upon in New England, in the times of the embargo and non-intercourse, 
 
 we should probably not now have been here. The government would very 
 
 likely have gone to pieces and crumbled into dust. No stronger case can 
 
 14 
 
210 
 
 ever arise than existed under those laws , no states can ever entertain a clearer 
 conviction than the New England States then entertained ; and if they had 
 been under the influence of that heresy of opinion, as I must call it, which the 
 honorable member espouses, this Union would, in all probability have been 
 scattered to the four winds. I ask the gentleman, therefore, to apply his prin 
 ciples to that case ; I ask him to come forth and declare whether, in his opin 
 ion, the New England States would have been justified in interfering to break 
 up the embargo system, under the conscientious opinions which he held upon 
 it Had they a right to annul that law ? Does he admit, or deny? If that 
 which is thought palbably unconstitutional in South Carolina justifies that 
 state in arresting the progress of the law, tell me whether that which was 
 thought palpably unconstitutional also in Massachusetts would have justified 
 her in doing the same thing. Sir, I deny the whole doctrine. It has not a 
 foot of ground in the constitution to stand on. No public man of reputation 
 ever advanced it in Massachusetts, in the warmest times, or could maintain 
 himself upon it there at any time. 
 
 I wish now, sir, to make a remark upon the Virginia resolutions of 1798. 
 I cannot undertake to say how these resolutions were understood by those who 
 passed them. Their language is not a little indefinite. In the case of the ex 
 ercise, by Congress, of a dangerous power, not granted to them, the resolu 
 tions assert the right, on the part of the state to interfere, and arrest the pro 
 gress of the evil. This is susceptible of more than one interpretation. It 
 may mean no more than that the states may interfere by complaint and re 
 monstrance, or by proposing to the people an alteration of the federal consti 
 tution. This would all be quite unobjectionable ; or it may be that no more 
 is meant than to assert the general right of revolution, as against all govern 
 ments, in cases of intolerable oppression. This no one doubts; and this, in 
 my opinion, is all that he who framed these resolutions could have meant by 
 it ; for I shall not readily believe that he was ever of opinion that a state, un 
 der the constitution, and in conformity with it, could, upon the ground of her 
 own opinion of its unconstitutionality, however clear and palpable she might 
 think the case, annul a law of Congress, so far as it should operate on herself, 
 by her own legislative power. 
 
 y*-I must now beg to ask, sir, Whence is this supposed right of the states de 
 rived ? Where do they get the power to interfere with the laws of the Union ? 
 Sir, the opinion which the honorable gentleman maintains is a notion founded 
 in a total misapprehension, in my judgment, of the origin of this government, 
 and of the foundation on which it stands. I hold it to be a popular govern 
 ment, erected by the people, those who administer it responsible to the people, 
 and itself capable of being amended and modified, just as the people may 
 choose it should be. It is as popular, just as truly emanating from the peo 
 ple, as the state governments. It is created for one purpose ; the state gov 
 ernments for another. It has its own powers; they have theirs. There is no 
 more authority with them to arrest the operation of a law of Congress, than 
 with Congress to arrest the operation of their laws. We are here to adminis 
 ter a constitution emanating immediately from the people, and trusted by 
 them to our administration. It is not the creature of the state governments. 
 It is of no moment to the argument that certain acts of the state legislatures 
 are necessary to fill our seats in this body. That is not one of their original 
 state powers, a part of the sovereignty of the state. It is a duty which the 
 people, by the constitution itself, have imposed on the state legislatures, and 
 which they might have left to be performed elsewhere, if they had seen fit. 
 
211 
 
 So they have left the choice of president with electors ; but all this does not 
 affect the proposition that this whole government President, Senate and 
 House of Representatives is a popular government. It leaves it still all its 
 popular character. The governor of a state (in some of the states) is chosen 
 not directly by the people for the purpose of performing, among other duties, 
 that of electing a governor. Is the government of the state on that account 
 not a popular government ? This government, sir, is the independent offspring 
 of the popular will. It is not the creature of state legislatures ; nay. more, if 
 the whole truth must be told, the people brought it into existence, established 
 it> and have hitherto supported it, for the very purpose, amongst others, of im 
 posing certain salutary restraints on state sovereignties. The states cannot now 
 make war ; they cannot contract alliances ; they cannot make, each for itself, 
 separate regulations of commerce ; they cannot lay imposts ; they cannot coin 
 money. If this constitution, sir, be the creature of state legislatures, it must 
 be admitted that it has obtained a strange control over the volition of its 
 creators. 
 
 The people then, sir, erected this government. They gave it a constitution, 
 and in that constitution they have enumerated the powers which they bestow 
 on it. They have made it a limited government. They have defined its au 
 thority. They have restrained it to the exercise of such powers as are grant 
 ed; and all others, they declare, are reserved to the states or the people. But, 
 sir, they have not stopped here. If they had, they would have accomplished 
 but half their work. No definition can be so clear as to avoid possibility of 
 doubt ; no limitation so precise as to exclude all uncertainty. Who, then, shall 
 construe this grant of the people ? Who shall interpret their wi 1, where it 
 may be supposed they have left it doubtful ? With whom do they leave this 
 ultimate right of deciding on the powers of the government ? Sir, they have 
 settled all this in the fullest manner. They have left it with the government 
 itself, in its appropriate branches. Sir, the very chief end, the main design 
 for which the whole constitution was framed and adopted, was to establish a 
 government that should not be obliged to act through state agency, or depend 
 on state opinion and discretion. The people had had quite enough of that 
 kind of government under the confederacy. Under that system, the legal 
 action the application of law to individuals belonged exclusively to the 
 states. Congress could only recommend their acts were not of binding 
 force till the states had adopted and sanctioned them. Are we in that con 
 dition still ? Are we yet at the mercy of state discretion and state construc 
 tion? Sir, if we are, then vain w ll be our attempt to maintain the constitu 
 tion under which we sit. 
 
 But, sir, the people have wisely provided, in the constitution itself, a proper, 
 suitable mode and tribunal for settling questions of constitutional law. There 
 are, in the constitution, grants of powers to Congress, and restrict ons o i those 
 powers. There are also prohibitions on the states. Some authority must 
 therefore necessarily exist, having the ultimate jurisdiction to fix and ascertain 
 the interpretation of these grants, restrictions, and prohibitions. The constitu 
 tion has itself pointed out, ordained, and established that authority. How has 
 it accomplished this great and essential end ? By declaring, sir, that " the 
 constitution and the laws of the United States, made in pursuance thereof, 
 shall be the supreme law of the land, any thing in the constitution or laws 
 of any state to the contrary notwithstanding" 
 
 This, sir, was the first great step. By this, the supremacy of the constitution 
 and laws of the United States is declared. The people so will it. No state 
 
21Q 
 
 law is to be valid which comes in conflict with the constitution or any law of 
 the United States. But who shall decide this question of interference ? To 
 whom lies the last appeal ? This, sir, the constitution itself decides also, by- 
 declaring "that the judicial power shall extend to all cases arising under the 
 constitution and laws of the United States" These two provisions, sir, 
 cover the whole ground. They are, in truth, the keystone of the arch. With 
 these it is a government , without them it is a confederacy. In pursuance of 
 these clear and express provisions, Congress established, at its very first session, 
 in the judicial act, a mode for carrying them into full effect, and for bringing 
 all questions of constitutional power to the final decision of the Supreme Court. 
 It then, sir, became a government. It then had the means of self-protection ; 
 and but for this, it would, in all probability, have been now among things 
 which are .passed. Having constituted the government, and declared its 
 powers, the people have further said, that since somebody must decide on the 
 extent of these powers, the government shall itself decide subject always 
 like other popular governments, to its responsibility to the people. And now, 
 sir, I repeat, how is it that a state legislature acquires any right to interfere ? 
 Who, or what, gives them the right to say to the people, " We, who are your, 
 agents and servants for one purpose, will undertake to decide, that your other 
 agents and servants, appointed by you for another purpose, have transcended 
 the authority you gave them " ? The reply would be, I think, not imperti 
 nent, " Who made you a judge over another s servants. To their own masters 
 they stand or fall." 
 
 Sir, I deny this power of state legislatures altogether. It cannot stand the 
 test of examination. Gentlemen may say, that, in an extreme case, a state 
 government might protect the people from intolerable oppression. Sir, in 
 such a case the people might protect themselves, without the aid of the state 
 governments. Such a case wan-ants revolution. It must make, when it 
 comes, a law for itself. A nullifying act of a state legislature cannot alter the 
 case, nor make resistance any more lawful. In maintaining these sentiments, 
 air, I am but asserting the rights of the people. I state what they have 
 declared, and insist on their right to declare it. They have chosen to repose 
 this power in the general government, and I think it my duty to support it, 
 tike other constitutional powers. 
 
 For myself, sir, I doubt the jurisdiction of South Carolina, or any other state, 
 co prescribe my constitutional duty, or to settle, between me and the people, 
 (he validity of laws of Congress for which I have voted. I decline her 
 umpirage. I have not sworn to support the constitution according to her con 
 struction of its clauses. I have not stipulated, by my oath of office or otherwise, 
 to come under any responsibility, except to the people and those whom they 
 have appointed to pass upon the question, whether the laws, supported by my 
 votes, conform to the constitution of the country. And, sir, if we look to the 
 general nature of the case, could any thing have been more preposterous than 
 to have made a government for the whole Union, and yet left its powers 
 subject, not to one interpretation, but to thirteen or twenty-four interpretations ? 
 Instead of one tribunal, established by all, responsible to all, with power to 
 decide for all, shall constitutional questions be left to four and twenty popular 
 bodies, each at liberty to decide for itself, and none bound to respect the 
 decisions of others ; and each at liberty, too, to give a new construction, on 
 every new election of its own members ? Would any thing, with such a prin 
 ciple i it, or rather with such a destitution of all principle, be fit to be called 
 government ? No, sir. It should not be denominated a constitution. It 
 
213 
 
 should be called, rather, a collection of topics for everlasting controversy ; 
 heads of debate for a disputatious people. It would not be a government. It 
 would not be adequate to any practical -good, nor fit for any country to live 
 under. To avoid all possibility of being misunderstood, allow me to repeat 
 again, in the fullest manner, that I claim no powers for the government by 
 forced or unfair construction. I admit that it is a government of strictly lim 
 ited powers; of enumerated, specified, and particularized powers; and that 
 whatsoever is not granted is withheld. But, notwithstanding all this, and 
 however the grant of powers may be expressed, its limits and extent may yet, 
 in some cases, admit of doubt; and the general government would be good 
 for nothing, it would be incapable of long existence, if some mode had not 
 been provided in which those doubts, as they should arise, might be peacea 
 bly, but not authoritatively, solved.^. 
 
 And now, Mr. President, let me run the honorable gentleman s doctrine a 
 little into its practical application. Let us look at his probable modus operandi. 
 If a thing can be done, an ingenious man can tell how it is to be done. Now ; 
 I wish to be informed how this state interference is to be put in practice. We 
 will take the existing case of the tariff law. South Carolina is said to have 
 made-up her opinion npon it. If we do not repeal it, (as we probably shall 
 not,) she will then apply to the case the remedy of her doctrine. She will, 
 we must suppose, pass a law of her legislature, declaring the several acts of 
 Congress, usually called the tariff laws, null and void, so far as they respec. 
 South Carolina, or the citizens thereof. So far, all is a paper transaction, and 
 easy enough. But the collector at Charleston is collecting the duties imposed 
 by these tariff laws he, therefore, must be stopped. The collector will seize 
 the goods if the tariff duties are not paid. The state authorities will under 
 take their rescue : the marshal, with his posse, will come to the collector s aid ; 
 and here the contest begins. The militia of the state will be called out to 
 sustain the nullifying act. They will march, sir, under a very gallant leader; 
 for I believe the honorable member himself commands the militia of that part 
 of the state. He will raise the NULLIFYING ACT on his standard, and spread 
 it out as his banner. It will have a preamble, bearing that the tariff laws are 
 palpable, deliberate, and dangerous violations of the constitution. He will 
 
 proceed, with his banner flying, to the custom house in Charleston, 
 
 
 " all the \diile 
 Sonorous metal blowing martial sounds." 
 
 Arrived at the custom house, he will tell the collector that he must collect no 
 more duties under any of the tariff laws. This he will be somewhat puzzled 
 to say, by the way, with a grave countenance, considering what hand South 
 Carolina herself had in that of 1816. But, sir, the collector would, probably, 
 not desist at his bidding. Here would ensue a pause ; for they say, that a cer 
 tain stillness precedes the tempest. Before this military array should fall on 
 custom house, collector, clerks, and all, it is very probable some of those corn- 
 posing it would request of their gallant commander- in-chief to be informed a 
 little upon the point of law ; for they have doubtless a just respect for his opin 
 ions as a lawyer, as well as for his bravery as a soldier. They know he has 
 read Blackstone and the constitution, as well as Turenne and Vauban. They 
 would ask him., therefore, something concerning their rights in this matter. 
 They would inquire whether it was not somewhat dangerous to resist a law of 
 the United States. What would be the nature of their offence, they would 
 wish to learn, if they, by military force and array, resisted the execution in 
 
214 
 
 Carolina of a law of the United States, and it should turn out, after all, that 
 the law was constitutional. He would answer, of course, treason. No lawyer 
 could give any other answer. John Fries, he would tell them, had learned 
 that some years ago. How, then, they would ask, do you propose to defend 
 us ? We are not afraid of bullets, but treason has a way of taking people off 
 that we do not much relish. How do you propose to defend us ? " Look at 
 my floating banner," he would reply ; " see there the nullifying law !" Is it 
 your opinion, gallant commander, they would then say, that if we should be 
 indicted for treason, that same floating banner of yours would make a good 
 plea in bar ? " South Carolina is a soverign state," he would reply. That is 
 true ; but would the judge admit our plea ? " These tariff laws," he would 
 repeat, " are unconstitutional, palpably, deliberately, dangerously." That all 
 may be so; but if the tribunals should n6t happen to be of that opinion, shall 
 we swing for it ? We are ready to die for our country, but it is rather an 
 awkward business, this dying without touching the ground. After all, this is 
 a son of 7iejwj9~tax, worse than any part of the tariff. 
 
 Mr. President, the honorable gentleman would be in a dilemma like that of 
 another great general. He would have a knot before him which he could no* 
 untie. He must cut it with his sword. H& must say to his followers, Deferu 
 yourselves with your bayonets ; and this is war civil war. 
 ADirect collision, therefore, between force and force, is the unavoidable result 
 of that remedy for the revision of unconstitutional laws which the gentleman 
 contends for. It must happen in the very first case to which it is applied. 
 JCs not this the plain results To lesist, by force, the execution of a law, gen 
 erally, is treason. Can the courts oi % the United States take notice of the 
 indulgence of a state to commit treason ? The common saying, that a state 
 cannot commit treason herself, is nothing to the purpose. Can it authorize 
 others to do it? If John Fries had produced an act of Pennsylvania, annul 
 ling the law of Congress, would it have helped his case ? Talk about it as we 
 will, these doctrines go the length of revolution. The> aie incompatible with 
 any peaceable administration of the government. They iead directly to dis 
 union and civil commotion ; and therefore it is, that at the commencement, 
 when they are first found to be maintained by respectable men, and in a tangi- 
 
 _ble form, that I enter my public protest against them all. 
 
 "~ \The honorable gentleman argues, that if this government be the sole 
 judge of the extent of its own powers, whether that right of judging be in 
 Congress or the Supreme Court, it equally subverts, state soverenty. This 
 the gentleman sees, or thinks he sees, although he cannot perceive how the 
 right of judging in this matter, if left to the exercise of state legislatures, has 
 any tendency to subvert the government of the Union. The gentleman s 
 opinion may be that the right ought not to have been lodged with the gene 
 ral government ; he may like better such a constitution as we should have 
 under the right of state interference ; but I ask him to meet me on the plain 
 matter of fact I ask him to meet me on the constitution itself I ask him 
 if the power is not there clearly and visibly found there. 
 
 But, sir, what is this danger, and what the grounds of it ? Let it be re 
 membered, that the constitution of the United States is not unalterable. It 
 is to continue in its present form no longer than the people who established 
 it shall choose to continue it. If they shall become convinced that they have 
 made an injudicious or inexpedient partition and distribution of power be 
 tween the state governments and the general government, they can alter that 
 distribution at will. 
 
215 
 
 If anytliiug be found in the national constitution, either by original prov- 
 vision or subsequent interpretation, which ought not to be in it, the people 
 know how to get rid of it. If any construction be established, unacceptable 
 to them, so as to become, practically, a part of the constitution, they will 
 amend it at their own sovereign pleasure. But while the people choose to 
 maintain it as it is, while they are satisfied with it, and refuse to change it, 
 who has given, or who can give, to the state legislatures a right to alter it, 
 either by interference, construction, or otherwise ? Gentlemen do not seem to 
 recollect that the people have any power to do anything for themselves ; they 
 imagine there is no safety for them any longer than they are under the 
 close guardianship of the state legislatures. Sir, the people have not trusted 
 their safety, in regard to the general constitution, to these hands they have re 
 quired other security, and taken other bonds. They have chosen to trust 
 themselves, first to the plain words of the instrument, and to such construction 
 as the government itself, in doubtful cases, should put on its own powers, un 
 der their oaths of office, and subject to their responsibility to them j^just aa^ 
 the people of a state trust their own state governments with a similar pow^S, 
 Secondly, they have reposed their trust in the efficacy of frequent elections, 
 and in their own power to remote their own servants and agents, whenever 
 they see cause. Thirdly, they have reposed trust in the judicial power, which, 
 in order that it might be trustworthy, they have made as respectable, as disin 
 terested, and as independent as practicable. Fourthly, they have seen fit to 
 rely, in case of necessity, or high expediency, on their known and admitted 
 power to alter or amend the constitution, peaceably and quietly, whenever ex 
 perience shall point out defects or imperfections. And finally, the people of 
 the United States have at no time, in no way, directly or indirectly, author 
 ized any state legislature to construe or interpret their instrument of govern 
 ment ; much less to interfere, by their own power, to arrest its course and 
 operation. \ 
 
 If sir, the people, in these respects, had done otherwise than they have done, 
 their constitution could neither have been preserved, nor would it have been 
 worth preserving. And if its plain provision shall now be disregarded, and 
 these new doctrines interpolated in it, it will become as feeble and helpless a 
 being as enemies, whether early or more recent, could possibly desire. It will 
 exist in every state, but as a poor dependant on state permission. It must 
 borrow leave to be, and will be, no longer than state pleasure, or state discre 
 tion, sees fit to grant the indulgence, and to prolong its poor existence. 
 
 But, sir, although there are fears, there are hopes also. The people have 
 preserved this, their own chosen constitution, for forty years, and have seen 
 their happiness, prosperity, and renown grow with its growth and strengthen 
 with its strength. They are now, generally, strongly attached to it. Over 
 thrown by direct assault it cannot be; evaded, undermined, NULLIFIED, it will 
 not be, if we, and those who shall succeed us here, as agents and representa 
 tives of the people, shall conscientiously and vigilantly discharge the two 
 great branches of our public trust faithfully to preserve and wisely to ad 
 minister it. .-...--.__. 
 
 X/ 7 Mr. President, I have thus stated the reasons of my dissent to the doctrines 
 which have been advanced and maintained. I am conscious of having de 
 tained you, and the Senate, much too long. I was drawn into the debate 
 with no previous deliberation such as is suited to the discussion of so grave 
 and important a subject. But it is a subject of which my heart is full, and I 
 have not been willing to suppress the utterance of its spontaneous sentiments. 
 
216 
 
 I cannot, even now, persuade myself to relinquish it, without expressing 
 once more, my deep conviction, that since it respects nothing less than the 
 union of the states, it is of most, vital and essential importance to the public 
 happiness. I I profess, sir in my career hitherto, to have kept steadily in view 
 the prosperity and honor of the \vhole country, and the preservation of our 
 Federal Union. It is to that Union we owe our safety at home, and our. con 
 sideration and dignity abroad. It is to that Union we are chiefly indebted 
 for whatever makes us most proud of our country. That Union we reached 
 only by the discipline of our virtues in the severe school of adversity. It had 
 its origin in the necessites of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and 
 ruined credit. Under its benign influences, these great interests immediately 
 awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life. Every year 
 of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its blessings ; and 
 although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population 
 spread farther and farther, they have not outrun its protection or its benefits. 
 njLhas been to us all a copious fountain of national, social, personal happiness. 
 lLave not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the Union, to see what might 
 lie hidden in the dark recess behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances 
 of preserving liberty, when the bonds that Ttiite us together shall be broken 
 asunder. 1 have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disun 
 ion, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss 
 below; nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor in the affairs of this 
 government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how 
 the Union should be best preserved, but how tolerable might be the condition 
 of the people when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While the Union 
 lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us 
 and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant 
 that in my day at least, that curtain may not/ise. God grant that on my 
 vision never may be opened what lies behind. fWhen my eyes shall be turned 
 to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on 
 the broken and dishonored fragments of a once-glorious Union ; on states dis 
 severed, discordant, belligerent ; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, 
 it may be, in fraternal blood ! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, 
 rather, behold the gorgeous ensign of the republic, now known and honored 
 throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming 
 in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star 
 obscured beaming for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, What 
 is all this ivorth? nor those other words of Delusion and folly,, * Liberty first, 
 and Union afterwards; but every where, spread all-over in characters of 
 living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over 
 the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens," that other sentiment, dear 
 to every true American heart Liberty and Union, now and forever, one 
 and inseparable ! 
 
217 
 
 The great Orations and Senatorial Speech of DANIEL WEBSTER, comprising Eulogy on 
 ADAMS and JEFFERSON ; First Settlement of New England ; Bunker Hill Monu 
 ment ; Reply to HAYNE. Rochester : WILBUR M. HAYWARD, No. 4, Burns Build 
 ing, 2d floor, Publisher. Sold by MoMAHOX, DEWEY, and WANZER, BEARDSLEY 
 <fc Co., 1853. 
 
 The four Speeches, in the volume above named, are among the chief efforts of the 
 mighty intellect of Webster. They were all delivered in the full maturity of his 
 powers, and when the councils of the nation were rendered illustrious by the foremost 
 men of the time. There were then other contestants for the palm of superior states 
 manship contestants they might be, but hardly rivals. It was a period too, full of 
 promise, though environed with peril. The great men of the Revolution had passed 
 away ; an era had arrived when the firmness of the Constitution was to be tested. 
 In this stormy and turbulent hour, when men failed before the unanswered and dan 
 gerous sophistries of the great Carolinian when the eloquence of Hayne had left 
 his opponents timid and irresolute ; then it was that this the noblest speech of Web 
 ster s was made ; fixing his fame, establishing his vast abilities upon an impregnable 
 basis, and giving him a world -wide name. 
 
 Any memorial of Mr. Webster is valuable, and while his worts are at so high a 
 price and beyond the reach of the majority of his countrymen, it is gratifying to 
 know that these four of his most remarkable speeches are presented in this compact 
 form and at a cheap price. Mr. Hay ward, the publisher, is a young man here, well 
 known as a dealer in books. He is possessed of energy and character, which good 
 qualities have obtained for him the copy -right of these speeches, when others, though 
 backed with influence and capital, had failed. His copyright is exclusive, none other 
 will be given, and he also has the privilege of illustrating the volume with a life-like 
 steel cut of the " Great Expounder." 
 
 A ready sale and a large and increasing demand has opened up to him. It will 
 be the step-stone to great success. Rochester American. 
 
 DANIEL WEBSTER S ORATIONS. Mr. W. M. Hay ward, of this city, has published, in 
 a pamphlet of 1 12 pages, Mr. Webster s Eulogy on Adams and Jefferson ; First Settle 
 ment of New England ; Bunker Hill Monument, and the Reply to Hayne. It contains 
 also an excellent likeness of Mr. Webster, engraved on steel. These Orations are now 
 in a form accessible to all, and should be in the hands of all the countrymen of the 
 great Statesman. Orders can be sent to the publisher. Rochester Democrat. 
 
 MR. WILBUR M. HAYWARD, of this city, has in press a volume composed of Mr. 
 Webster s greatest Speeches, viz : 1. The Speech on laying the Corner Stone of 
 Bunker Hill Monument. 2. On the Death of Adams and^Jefferson. 3. On the Set 
 tlement of New England. 4. Reply to Hayne. It will be published next week ; 
 and containing those unequalled efforts of the great American Orator, the work 
 cannot faif to find thousands of readers. The young especially should treasure it. 
 Rochester American. 
 
 WEBSTER S GREAT ORATIONS. The four great Speeches or Orations of Daniel 
 Webster to which we have before alluded, as now published by a " Rochester boy," 
 Mr. Wilbur M. Hayward, are having a great run. The publisher yesterday received 
 an order for five hundred copies for the California market, and orders flow in so freely 
 from all quarters, that it requires great industry to furnish them. Now, however, is 
 the time to secure an early supply. "First come-, first served. * Rochester Union. 
 
 WEBSTER S GREAT ORATIONS AND SENATORIAL SPEECH, will be published next 
 week by Wilbur M. Hayward. The volume will contain the Eulogy on Adams and 
 Jefferson ; Settlement of New England ; Bunker Hill Monument ; and Reply to 
 Hayne. We understand that it is to be embellished with a fine and accurate likeness 
 of the great Statesman and Orator. Mr. Hayward has shown commendable judgment 
 in the selection, and enterprise in the publication of this work. We predict for it 
 an unprecedented sale. Price 37| cents Rochester Advertiser. 
 
218 
 
 WEBSTER S GREAT SPEECHES. This fine work, published by our enterprising 
 townsman, Mr. Hayward, is offered in a new form. He has them bound in black 
 morocco, the cover stamped in gilt with a fine emblematic impression, consisting of 
 stars, coat of arms, the eagle and shield, and the words " I Still Live." We are glad 
 to learn that the work has reached a very extensive sale, and is still growing. Union. 
 
 THE GREAT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER are now issued in form for the library 
 in a handsomely bound volume, embellished with the best portrait of Mr. W. extant. 
 The orations comprised in this valuable and p pular book, are among the choicest 
 specimens of eloquence ever given to the world. As models in this respect, and as 
 memorials of patriotism, they have never been surpassed. The young will find them 
 worthy of careful study, and the old may read them and revive the glorious associa 
 tions of the past. Price 50 cents. All orders should be addressed to the publisher, 
 Wilbur M. Hayward, Rochester. Rural New Yorker. 
 
 " I STILL LIVE ! " Now published, Daniel Webster s three greatest Orations, 
 and the Speech in reply to Hayne. The volume contains the Eulogy on Adams and 
 Jefferson ; First Settlement of New England ; the Bunker Hill Monument ; and the 
 Reply to Hayne. These productions of America s Master Mind will live and be read 
 forever. They are universally admitted to be the best specimens of American Elo 
 quence, and will be handed down to immortality along with the most elaborate efforts 
 of Demosthenes, Cicero, Pitt and Burke. The eloquence and example of Webster is 
 a rich and exhaustless legacy, of which every American can feel proud, and for which 
 he should be grateful. The work is embellished with a fine and accurate Portrait on 
 Steel of the great Statesman and Orator. It should be in the hands, and its senti 
 ments of lofty patriotism in the hearts of all who boast of the American name. It 
 is now for the first time in a form accessible. 
 
 Price. Single copies, 37 cents in paper ; in muslin binding 50 cents. It can 
 be mailed to any part of the world. Three copies for $1,00. The Trade are espe 
 cially invited to send their orders for this book. The Copy-right has been secured by 
 permission of the family of Daniel Webster, and the work is stereotyped in the best 
 manner, and printed on fine paper. A liberal discount will be made on all orders. 
 Frederick Douglass Paper. 
 
 HATWARD S EDITION of Webster s Bunker Hill Oration, Eulogy on Adams and 
 Jefferson, Address at Plymouth, and Reply to Hayne in the U. S. Senate, in one vol 
 ume, with the best portrait of Webster, is now out and meets with a rapid sale. We 
 are glad that our friend s first venture in publishing succeeds so encouragingly, and 
 hope he may always give us works as worthy of purchase as this. No. 4, Burns 
 Block, Rochester. Rural Ntw Yorker. 
 
 WEBSTER S GREAT ORATIONS. Wilbur M. Hayward has recently published the 
 "Great Orations and Senatorial Speech of Daniel Webster." We understand that 
 the work is having an unprecedented sale. It is certainly a valuable publication. 
 The Orations are the most profound and eloquent in the English language, and the 
 steel Portrait of the great expounder is the best extant. Mr. Hayward is entitled to 
 the thanks of the community for spreading in this manner the fame and eloquence of 
 America s Greatest Intellect. Any of our friends sending us by mail, (post-paid,) 
 $1 for the first volume of the New York Magazine, we will send them the above 
 work as a premium. New York Magazine. 
 
 THE GREAT ORATIONS OF WEBSTER. Wilbur M. Hayward, an enterprising young 
 man of this city, has just published Webster s Eulogy on Adams and Jefferson, his 
 orations on the first Settlement of New England, and at the Bunker Hill Monumer.t, 
 and his Reply to Hayne in the Senate of the United States. It is elegantly printed, 
 and contains the best likeness of the great Statesman we have ever seen. The copy 
 right is in the hands of Mr. Hayward. It is only a few days since the work came 
 from the press, and yet 7,000 copies have been sold. Rochester American. 
 
 DURING the last winter and spring, when the friends of the great "statesman, 
 Daniel Webster, were urging his claims to the tardy justice of the Whig party, it was 
 answered by the Seward men : " Mr. Webster is unpopular at the West. He cannot 
 
219 
 
 obtain the suffrages of a single State west of Massachusetts. The publication of this 
 volume by a western man and its immense sale in the Western States gives us as 
 surance that its popularity is not confined to eastern latitudes, but that the whole 
 count y regard him as the greatest statesman and orator America ever produced. We 
 wonder how Scotl speeches would sell ? 
 
 The publisher is a most enterprising and deserving young man. Success to him* 
 [Day Book. 
 
 THE LIFE, EULOGY AND GEE AT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER, Published at Rochester, 
 N. Y, by Wilbur M. Hayward & Co. Philadelphia: J. W. Moore, 193 Chestnut 
 street. 
 
 * * * Could our heart s desire be realized, an association of American patriots 
 should be formed for placing a copy of this truly American work in the hands of every 
 citizens throughout this Commonwealth and through the land. But as we have little 
 expectation of any such mode of distribution, we shall take pleasure in doing the 
 next best thing, which is to give the book the full benefit of the " world-wide" circu 
 lation of the American Courier. We do this with a hearty earnestness, not merely 
 because the times require the dissemination of the sentiments and principles of this 
 book, not alone for the high regard and the deep solicitude we feel for our national 
 constitution and the institutions of the country, but equally so from the intrinsic 
 merit both of the orations of the great statesman and the noble eulogy and life by 
 which those orations are accompanied. Of the high standard of excellence claimed 
 for the majestic eloquence of Mr. Webster, we have no occasion to speak, since the 
 country has fully awarded his position ; an award, we may safely say, that has met 
 the concurrence of the civilized world. Nor do we except from this concurrence 
 even of Austria itself; for the masterly exposition of American principles, in the 
 Hulsemanu letter, though humiliating to the overbearing arrogance of that power, 
 has, nevertheless, commanded the respect and admiration of the Austrian nation. 
 But though the greatness of Mr. Webster s intellect, the vastness of his acquirements, 
 and the power of his oratory is universally admitted, the introductory portion of this 
 volume deserves especial and particular commendation. The " Life of Daniel Web 
 ster," with which the volume opens, we have already commended, in another 
 form, as embodying an account of his family, and such details of his domestic habits 
 and personal relations, as are naturally sought for with eagerness, by those who have 
 long and earnestly watched his public career. This desire is amply gratified ; and 
 so of the "Illness and Death," which succeeds. There are facts given here, in re 
 lation to the final dissolution of Mr. Webster, which are entirely new to us, much as 
 we had heard and read of the " Closing Scene." The preparation of the inscription 
 for his tomb, by his own hand, the minute disposition of his personal concerns, and 
 ihe events, at the last eventful moment, when the fleeting breath in leaving its mas 
 sive tenement, are all fraught with interest, as showing how fully his intellctual and 
 moral faculties maintained their mastery amidst the failing resources of his physical 
 constitution. Mr. Webster was truly an extraordinary personage. 
 
 But the crowning excellence of this volume is the " Eulogy," which so truly and so 
 jnstly exhibits the man in all his greatness, the character in all it noble proportions. 
 It furnishes the best estimate we have ever seen, of Mr. Webster. In a perspicuous 
 and bold, yet strickingly polished style ; it presents to the eye the noblest column 
 in New England history, the granite monument that stands, and will stand eternally, 
 associated with Plymouth Rock, Fanueil Hall and Bunker Hill. Associated with his 
 name and touched with his eloquence, they are now doubly hallowed spots in the 
 remembrance of his fellow countrymen, and in the admiration of mankind. 
 
 The Eulogy says, and we think justly, that as a forensic orator, there is no age, 
 past or present, which can boast his superior. He unites the boldness and energy of. 
 the Grecian, and the grandeur and strength of the Roman, to an original sublime 
 simplicity, which neither Grecian nor Roman possessed. This is, we admit, a high 
 wrought encomium, but let the reader turn to the noble specimens given in the ora 
 tions that follow the close of this Eulogy, and decide if the praise is not jus-t and 
 true. We have much that we should like to say in commendation of this book, but 
 can only at this time urge upon all to apply themselves studiously and earnestly to 
 the profound thought and sublime sentiment of American patriotism, which this rich 
 volume furnishes. The work is published with the approval of the family of the 
 great statesman. -American Courier. . 
 
THE LIFE, EULOGY, AND GREAT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER. This is the title of 
 i work recently placed on our table by Mellen & Co., 53 Clark street. The execu- 
 ion of the work is fiue. The type is large, the engraving is the fine one usually found 
 .n the best edition of his works. We welcome with unfeigned pleasure any such 
 ^Vork calculated for universal distribution among the American pe< pie. The fume 
 )f Daniel Webster fills the world. H.s reputation, his thoughts, his illustrious career 
 ibrrn a component part of the private capital of every American. Anything bearing 
 he impress of his genius anything embodying his thoughts or inculcating the 
 principles that governed him in the Court Room, in the Senate Chamber, or Cabinet, 
 .s worthy of a place by every fire side, and should form a part of the education given 
 :o every school boy. His life his eulogy " on Adams and Jefferson" his "First 
 Settlement of New England," and his reply to Hayne" have give him a world wide 
 eptUation, and made our Webster, the Webster of all time. American Institutions 
 ire indebted to the wisdom and foresight ot Webster for a large proportion of their 
 ame abroad and their stability at home. Here are his thoughts and precepts. Let 
 jvery family, too poor to procure his works complete, get these strong supports to the 
 superstructure of his greatness, destined to go on increasing with the wisest of the 
 jarth-born race. The book may be had at Mellen & Co s., 53 Clark st, Chicago. 
 jet it. 
 
 " The Life, Eulogy, and Great Orations of Daniel Webster," is the title of a work 
 )f 112 pages, published by Wilbur H. Hay ward & Co., Rochester, for a copy of which 
 ;ve are indebted to Messrs. Mellen & Co. f of Chicago. The work contains a selection 
 )f the most important and eloquent of his speeches, with a familiar account of his 
 Dublic and private career. It may be found at the store of Mellen & Co., 53 Clark 
 street, Chicago, who are the. only ageuls for it in the West. Peru Gazette. 
 
 ["HE LIFE, EULCGY, AND GREAT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTEE. Rochester: Wilbur 
 
 M. Hayward. New York: Dewiit & Davenport. 
 
 To those who are not able to procure the complete works of the great Orator and 
 statesman, this volume will be a valuable memorial. It contains within a small com- 
 >ass the life and eulogy of Webster ; his own eulogy on Adams and Jefferson, de- 
 iAered Aug. 2nd, 1826 ; his celebrated Plymouth oration, delivered Dec. 22d, 1820 ; 
 lis Bunker Hill oration, deliveied at the laying of the corner stone of the monument, 
 [nne 17, 1825, and last, but though not least, his celebrated reply to Hayne, in full. 
 L he memoir contains March s graphic description of its delivery. This is a fair de 
 scription of the great mind from which these productions emanated, and thousands 
 ivill be glad to obtain it. 
 
 It has a portrait of Webster, for a frontispiece, which, has been published before, 
 hich we have regarded as one of the best engraved likenesses that we have teen. 
 
 " The Life, Eulogy and Great Orations of Daniel Webster," is the title of a work 
 ust published, sent us by Mellen <fe Co., 53 Clark street, Chicago, only agents for the 
 cvest. Price 50 cents ! It is embellished by what we suppose to be an accurate por- 
 :rait of Webster ; is well got up in clear type, and furnishes a good opportunity for 
 :he admirers of the great statesman, to get many of his choicest productions, in a 
 iheap form. 
 
 LIFE AND ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER. We have been favored with a very neat 
 pamphlet copy of "the Life, Eulogy and Great Orations of Daniel Webster." The 
 work is embellished with a very striking engraving of the great orator and states 
 man, and gives a graphic sketch of his life. Among the speeches are Webster s cele 
 brated reply to Hayne, and his well know Plymouth oration. The price of the 
 work is 50 cents. Messrs. Mellen <fe Co., 53 Clark street, Chicago, are the only agents 
 for the West. [Alton Daily Telegraph. 
 
 THE LIFE, EULOGT AND GREAT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER, is the title of a pam 
 phlet of 112 pages, which we received from the General Periodical Depot of Messrs. 
 Mellen & Co., No. 53 Clark street, Chicago. It has a likeness of this eminent states- 
 
221 
 
 man, and contains a short history of his life, with a number of his most popular ora 
 tions. This is a work that should be in the hands of every scholar and gentleman s 
 library. Price 50 cents per copy. [ IVaukegan, El, Gazette. 
 
 THE LIFE, EULOGY AND GREAT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER, W. M. Hayward & Co., 
 
 Publishers, Rochester, N. Y. 
 
 This is a neatly printed book of 112 pages, just published, for a copy of which we 
 are indebted to the politeness of Messrs. Mellen <fe Co., 53 Clark street, Chicago, who 
 are the only agents for the publishers in the West. In addition to an interesting 
 sketch of the life and character of Mr. Webster, the work contains a number of his 
 masterly and unrivalled orations, together with his great speech in reply to Hayne, 
 of South Carolina. Every admirer of America s greatest orator, will of course pro 
 cure a copy. 
 
 THE LIFE, EULOGY, AND GREAT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER. Rochester : Wilbur 
 
 M. Hayward & Co. 
 
 The title of this work explains its character and indicates its value. It gives with 
 in the limits of 112 pages as complete an exhibition of what the great Defender of 
 the Constitution was and did, as can be found anywhere within the same compass. 
 For sale by Mellen & Co., 53 Clark street [Chicago, ILL Evangelist. 
 
 LIFE, EULOGY, AND GREAT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER. Rochester, 1853. W. M 
 Hayward, of this city, who is engaged in the publication of Speeches and Portraits 
 of distinguished American Statesmen, will issue next week a volume with the above 
 title. The Orations have already been published by him, and sold somewhat exten 
 sively. The Life was written expressly for Mr. H. by L. Gaylord Clark, the able 
 and popular Editor of the Knickerbocker Magazine. The Eulogy is pronounced by 
 those who have read it in manuscript, to Le the best which has yet been pronounced 
 on the immortal Webster. The work, complete, will form a volume of over two 
 hundred pages, large size, and will be illustrated with a fine steel portrait of Mr. 
 Webster. It will be likely to find a popular appreciation and extensive sale. Rural 
 New Yorker. 
 
 THE LIFE, AND GREAT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTKR. This work gives, in a cheap 
 form, a fine likeness of the great Stateman, a comprehensive sketch of his life, and 
 four of his ablest speeches, among which is the celebrated reply to Mr. Hayne. For 
 sale by Mellen & Co. [ Chicago Courier. 
 
 " LIFE, EULOGY AND GREAT ORATIONS OF DANIEL WEBSTER." We have received 
 from Mellen & Co., Chicago, only agents for the West, a copy of the above work. 
 This volume needs no recommendation from us, the name of Webster is enough to 
 place it in the hands of every lover of intellect and genius. Remember it can only be 
 had at 53 Clark street, Chicago, of Mellon & Co. 
 
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UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY