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. \ - 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subject to immediate recall. A PR$* 1967 &0 p> r~ /- p 5 I % / T" r-N npp 1 CT 1Q71 /f rv /I Art j-i j-i-i Mr K -L lo/ 1 -^ y APR 22 b7 -4 M MAR 3 1 1971 3 i / ^ / UA^\ A\ iviAn o i ij / i v o " oJV INTER t5jgARY LOAN UNIV. OF CALIF., BERK. UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY