THE ELECTION IN NOVEMBER.

While all of us have been watching, with that admiring sympathy which

never fails to wait on courage and magnanimity, the career of the new

Timoleon in Sicily,--while we have been reckoning, with an interest

scarcely less than in some affair of personal concern, the chances and

changes that bear with furtherance or hindrance upon the fortune of

united Italy, we are approaching, with a quietness and composure which

more than anything else mark the essential difference between our own

form of democracy and any other yet known in history, a crisis in our

domestic policy more momentous than any that has arisen since we

became a nation. Indeed, considering the vital consequences for good

or evil that will follow from the popular decision in November, we

might be tempted to regard the remarkable moderation which has thus

far characterized the Presidential canvass as a guilty indifference to

the duty implied in the privilege of suffrage, or a stolid

unconsciousness of the result which may depend upon its exercise in

this particular election, did we not believe that it arose chiefly

from the general persuasion that the success of the Republican party

was a foregone conclusion.

In a society like ours, where every man may transmute his private

thought into history and destiny by dropping it into the ballot-box, a

peculiar responsibility rests upon the individual. Nothing can absolve

us from doing our best to look at all public questions as citizens,

and therefore in some sort as administrators and rulers. For, though

during its term of office the government be practically as independent

of the popular will as that of Russia, yet every fourth year the

people are called upon to pronounce upon the conduct of their affairs.

Theoretically, at least, to give democracy any standing-ground for an

argument with despotism or oligarchy, a majority of the men composing

it should be statesmen and thinkers. It is a proverb, that to turn a

radical into a conservative there needs only to put him into office,

because then the license of speculation or sentiment is limited by a

sense of responsibility,--then for the first time he becomes capable

of that comparative view which sees principles and measures, not in

the narrow abstract, but in the full breadth of their relations to

each other and to political consequences. The theory of democracy

presupposes something of these results of official position in the

individual voter, since in exercising his right he becomes for the

moment an integral part of the governing power.

How very far practice is from any likeness to theory a week's

experience of our politics suffices to convince us. The very

government itself seems an organized scramble, and Congress a boys'

debating-club, with the disadvantage of being reported. As our

party-creeds are commonly represented less by ideas than by persons,

(who are assumed, without too close a scrutiny, to be the exponents of

certain ideas,) our politics become personal and narrow to a degree

never paralleled, unless in ancient Athens or mediaeval Florence. Our

Congress debates and our newspapers discuss, sometimes for day after

day, not questions of national interest, not what is wise and right,

but what the Honorable Lafayette Skreemer said on the stump, or bad

whiskey said for him, half a dozen years ago. If that personage,

outraged in all the finer sensibilities of our common nature, by

failing to get the contract for supplying the District Court-House at

Skreemeropolisville City with revolvers, was led to disparage the

union of these States, it is seized on as proof conclusive that the

party to which he belongs are so many Cat_a_lines,--for Congress is

unanimous only in misspelling the name of that oft-invoked

conspirator. The next Presidential Election looms always in advance,

so that we seem never to have an actual Chief Magistrate, but a

prospective one, looking to the chances of reëlection, and mingling in

all the dirty intrigues of provincial politics with an unhappy talent

for making them dirtier. The cheating mirage of the White House lures

our public men away from present duties and obligations; and if

matters go on as they have gone, we shall need a Committee of Congress

to count the spoons in the public plate-closet, whenever a President

goes out of office,--with a policeman to watch every member of the

Committee. We are kept normally in that most unprofitable of

predicaments, a state of transition, and politicians measure their

words and deeds by a standard of immediate and temporary

expediency,--an expediency not as concerning the nation, but which, if

more than merely personal, is no wider than the interests of party.

Is all this a result of the failure of democratic institutions? Rather

of the fact that those institutions have never yet had a fair trial,

and that for the last thirty years an abnormal element has been acting

adversely with continually increasing strength. Whatever be the effect

of slavery upon the States where it exists, there can be no doubt that

its moral influence upon the North has been most disastrous. It has

compelled our politicians into that first fatal compromise with their

moral instincts and hereditary principles which makes all consequent

ones easy; it has accustomed us to makeshifts instead of

statesmanship, to subterfuge instead of policy, to party-platforms for

opinions, and to a defiance of the public sentiment of the civilized

world for patriotism. We have been asked to admit, first, that it was

a necessary evil; then that it was a good both to master and slave;

then that it was the corner-stone of free institutions; then that it

was a system divinely instituted under the Old Law and sanctioned

under the New. With a representation, three-fifths of it based on the

assumption that negroes are men, the South turns upon us and insists

on our acknowledging that they are things. After compelling her

Northern allies to pronounce the "free and equal" clause of the

preamble to the Declaration of Independence (because it stood in the

way of enslaving men) a manifest absurdity, she has declared, through

the Supreme Court of the United States, that negroes are not men in

the ordinary meaning of the word. To eat dirt is bad enough, but to

find that we have eaten more than was necessary may chance to give us

an indigestion. The slaveholding interest has gone on step by step,

forcing concession after concession, till it needs but little to

secure it forever in the political supremacy of the country. Yield to

its latest demand,--let it mould the evil destiny of the

Territories,--and the thing is done past recall. The next Presidential

Election is to say _Yes_ or _No_.

But we should not regard the mere question of political preponderancy

as of vital consequence, did it not involve a continually increasing

moral degradation on the part of the Nonslaveholding States,--for Free

States they could not be called much longer. Sordid and materialistic

views of the true value and objects of society and government are

professed more and more openly by the leaders of popular outcry, if it

cannot be called public opinion. That side of human nature which it

has been the object of all lawgivers and moralists to repress and

subjugate is flattered and caressed; whatever is profitable is right;

and already the slave-trade, as yielding a greater return on the

capital invested than any other traffic, is lauded as the highest

achievement of human reason and justice. Mr. Hammond has proclaimed

the accession of King Cotton, but he seems to have forgotten that

history is not without examples of kings who have lost their crowns

through the folly and false security of their ministers. It is quite

true that there is a large class of reasoners who would weigh all

questions of right and wrong in the balance of trade; but--we cannot

bring ourselves to believe that it is a wise political economy which

makes cotton by unmaking men, or a far-seeing statesmanship which

looks on an immediate money-profit as a safe equivalent for a beggared

public sentiment. We think Mr. Hammond even a little premature in

proclaiming the new Pretender. The election of November may prove a

Culloden. Whatever its result, it is to settle, for many years to

come, the question whether the American idea is to govern this

continent, whether the Occidental or the Oriental theory of society is

to mould our future, whether we are to recede from principles which

eighteen Christian centuries have been slowly establishing at the cost

of so many saintly lives at the stake and so many heroic ones on the

scaffold and the battle-field, in favor of some fancied assimilation

to the household arrangements of Abraham, of which all that can be

said with certainty is that they did not add to his domestic

happiness.

We believe that this election is a turning-point in our history; for,

although there are four candidates, there are really, as everybody

knows, but two parties, and a single question that divides them. The

supporters of Messrs. Bell and Everett have adopted as their platform

the Constitution, the Union, and the enforcement of the Laws. This may

be very convenient, but it is surely not very explicit. The cardinal

question on which the whole policy of the country is to turn--a

question, too, which this very election must decide in one way or the

other--is the interpretation to be put upon certain clauses of the

Constitution. All the other parties equally assert their loyalty to

that instrument. Indeed, it is quite the fashion. The removers of all

the ancient landmarks of our policy, the violators of thrice-pledged

faith, the planners of new treachery to established compromise, all

take refuge in the Constitution,--

"Like thieves that in a hemp-plot lie,

Secure against the hue and cry."

In the same way the first Bonaparte renewed his profession of faith in

the Revolution at every convenient opportunity; and the second follows

the precedent of his uncle, though the uninitiated fail to see any

logical sequence from 1789 to 1815 or 1860. If Mr. Bell loves the

Constitution, Mr. Breckinridge is equally fond; that Egeria of our

statesmen could be "happy with either, were t'other dear charmer

away." Mr. Douglas confides the secret of his passion to the

unloquacious clams of Rhode Island, and the chief complaint made

against Mr. Lincoln by his opponents is that he is _too_

Constitutional.

Meanwhile the only point in which voters are interested is,--What do

they mean by the Constitution? Mr. Breckinridge means the superiority

of a certain exceptional species of property over all others, nay,

over man himself. Mr. Douglas, with a different formula for expressing

it, means practically the same thing. Both of them mean that Labor has

no rights which Capital is bound to respect,--that there is no higher

law than human interest and cupidity. Both of them represent not

merely the narrow principles of a section, but the still narrower and

more selfish ones of a caste. Both of them, to be sure, have

convenient phrases to be juggled with before election, and which mean

one thing or another, or neither one thing nor another, as a

particular exigency may seem to require; but since both claim the

regular Democratic nomination, we have little difficulty in divining

what their course would be after the fourth of March, if they should

chance to be elected. We know too well what regular Democracy is, to

like either of the two faces which each shows by turns under the same

hood. Everybody remembers Baron Grimm's story of the Parisian showman,

who in 1789 exhibited the _royal_ Bengal tiger under the new character

of _national_, as more in harmony with the changed order of things.

Could the animal have lived till 1848, he would probably have found

himself offered to the discriminating public as the _democratic_ and

_social_ ornament of the jungle. The Pro-slavery party of this country

seeks the popular favor under even more frequent and incongruous

_aliases_; it is now _national_, now _conservative_, now

_constitutional_; here it represents Squatter-Sovereignty, and there

the power of Congress over the Territories; but, under whatever name,

its nature remains unchanged, and its instincts are none the less

predatory and destructive. Mr. Lincoln's position is set forth with

sufficient precision in the platform adopted by the Chicago

Convention; but what are we to make of Messrs. Bell and Everett? Heirs

of the stock in trade of two defunct parties, the Whig and

Know-Nothing, do they hope to resuscitate them? or are they only like

the inconsolable widows of Père la Chaise, who, with an eye to former

customers, make use of the late Andsoforth's gravestone to advertise

that they still carry on the business at the old stand? Mr. Everett,

in his letter accepting the nomination, gave us only a string of

reasons why he should not have accepted it at all; and Mr. Bell

preserves a silence singularly at variance with his patronymic. The

only public demonstration of principle that we have seen is an

emblematic bell drawn upon a wagon by a single horse, with a man to

lead him, and a boy to make a nuisance of the tinkling symbol as it

moves along. Are all the figures in this melancholy procession equally

emblematic? If so, which of the two candidates is typified in the

unfortunate who leads the horse?--for we believe the only hope of the

party is to get one of them elected by some hocus-pocus in the House

of Representatives. The little boy, we suppose, is intended to

represent the party, which promises to be so conveniently small that

there will be an office for every member of it, if its candidate

should win. Did not the bell convey a plain allusion to the leading

name on the ticket, we should conceive it an excellent type of the

hollowness of those fears for the safety of the Union, in case of Mr.

Lincoln's election, whose changes are so loudly rung,--its noise

having once or twice given rise to false alarms of fire, till people

found out what it really was. Whatever profound moral it be intended

to convey, we find in it a similitude that is not without significance

as regards the professed creed of the party. The industrious youth who

operates upon it has evidently some notion of the measured and regular

motion that befits the tongues of well-disciplined and conservative

bells. He does his best to make theory and practice coincide; but with

every jolt on the road an involuntary variation is produced, and the

sonorous pulsation becomes rapid or slow accordingly. We have observed

that the Constitution was liable to similar derangements, and we very

much doubt whether Mr. Bell himself (since, after all, the

Constitution would practically be nothing else than his interpretation

of it) would keep the same measured tones that are so easy on the

smooth path of candidacy, when it came to conducting the car of State

over some of the rough places in the highway of Manifest Destiny, and

some of those passages in our politics which, after the fashion of new

countries, are rather _corduroy_ in character.

But, fortunately, we are not left wholly in the dark as to the aims of

the self-styled Constitutional party. One of its most distinguished

members, Governor Hunt of New York, has given us to understand that

its prime object is the defeat at all hazards of the Republican

candidate. To achieve so desirable an end, its leaders are ready to

coalesce, here with the Douglas, and there with the Breckinridge

faction of that very Democratic party of whose violations of the

Constitution, corruption, and dangerous limberness of principle they

have been the lifelong denouncers. In point of fact, then, it is

perfectly plain that we have only two parties in the field: those who

favor the extension of slavery, and those who oppose it,--in other

words, a Destructive and a Conservative party.

We know very well that the partisans of Mr. Bell, Mr. Douglas, and Mr.

Breckinridge all equally claim the title of conservative: and the fact

is a very curious one, well worthy the consideration of those foreign

critics who argue that the inevitable tendency of democracy is to

compel larger and larger concessions to a certain assumed communistic

propensity and hostility to the rights of property on the part of the

working classes. But the truth is, that revolutionary ideas are

promoted, not by any unthinking hostility to the _rights_ of property,

but by a well-founded jealousy of its usurpations; and it is

Privilege, and not Property, that is perplexed with fear of change.

The conservative effect of ownership operates with as much force on

the man with a hundred dollars in an old stocking as on his neighbor

with a million in the funds. During the Roman Revolution of '48, the

beggars who had funded their gains were among the stanchest

reactionaries, and left Rome with the nobility. No question of the

abstract right of property has ever entered directly into our

politics, or ever will,--the point at issue being, whether a certain

exceptional kind of property, already privileged beyond all others,

shall be entitled to still further privileges at the expense of every

other kind. The extension of slavery over new territory means just

this,--that this one kind of property, not recognized as such by the

Constitution, or it would never have been allowed to enter into the

basis of representation, shall control the foreign and domestic policy

of the Republic.

A great deal is said, to be sure, about the rights of the South; but

has any such right been infringed? When a man invests money in any

species of property, he assumes the risks to which it is liable. If he

buy a house, it may be burned; if a ship, it may be wrecked; if a

horse or an ox, it may die. Now the disadvantage of the Southern kind

of property is,--how shall we say it so as not to violate our

Constitutional obligations?--that it is exceptional. When it leaves

Virginia, it is a thing; when it arrives in Boston, it becomes a man,

speaks human language, appeals to the justice of the same God whom we

all acknowledge, weeps at the memory of wife and children left

behind,--in short, hath the same organs and dimensions that a

Christian hath, and is not distinguishable from ordinary Christians,

except, perhaps, by a simpler and more earnest faith. There are people

at the North who believe, that, beside _meum_ and _tuum_, there is

also such a thing as _suum_,--who are old-fashioned enough, or weak

enough, to have their feelings touched by these things, to think that

human nature is older and more sacred than any claim of property

whatever, and that it has rights at least as much to be respected as

any hypothetical one of our Southern brethren. This, no doubt, makes

it harder to recover a fugitive chattel; but the existence of human

nature in a man here and there is surely one of those accidents to be

counted on at least as often as fire, shipwreck, or the

cattle-disease; and the man who chooses to put his money into these

images of his Maker cut in ebony should be content to take the

incident risks along with the advantages. We should be very sorry to

deem this risk capable of diminution; for we think that the claims of

a common manhood upon us should be at least as strong as those of

Freemasonry, and that those whom the law of man turns away should find

in the larger charity of the law of God and Nature a readier welcome

and surer sanctuary. We shall continue to think the negro a man, and

on Southern evidence, too, as long as he is counted in the population

represented on the floor of Congress,--for three-fifths of perfect

manhood would be a high average even among white men; as long as he is

hanged or worse, as an example and terror to others,--for we do not

punish one animal for the moral improvement of the rest; as long as he

is considered capable of religious instruction,--for we fancy the

gorillas would make short work with a missionary; as long as there are

fears of insurrection,--for we never heard of a combined effort at

revolt in a menagerie. Accordingly, we do not see how the particular

right of whose infringement we hear so much is to be made safer by the

election of Mr. Bell, Mr. Breckinridge, or Mr. Douglas,--there being

quite as little chance that any of them would abolish human nature as

that Mr. Lincoln would abolish slavery. The same generous instinct

that leads some among us to sympathize with the sorrows of the

bereaved master will always, we fear, influence others to take part

with the rescued man.

But if our Constitutional Obligations, as we like to call our

constitutional timidity or indifference, teach us that a particular

divinity hedges the Domestic Institution, they do not require us to

forget that we have institutions of our own, worth maintaining and

extending, and not without a certain sacredness, whether we regard the

traditions of the fathers or the faith of the children. It is high

time that we should hear something of the rights of the Free States,

and of the duties consequent upon them. We also have our prejudices to

be respected, our theory of civilization, of what constitutes the

safety of a state and insures its prosperity, to be applied wherever

there is soil enough for a human being to stand on and thank God for

making him a man. Is conservatism applicable only to property, and not

to justice, freedom, and public honor? Does it mean merely drifting

with the current of evil times and pernicious counsels, and carefully

nursing the ills we have, that they may, as their nature it is, grow

worse?

To be told that we ought not to agitate the question of Slavery, when

it is that which is forever agitating us, is like telling a man with

the fever and ague on him to stop shaking and he will be cured. The

discussion of Slavery is said to be dangerous, but dangerous to what?

The manufacturers of the Free States constitute a more numerous class

than the slaveholders of the South: suppose they should claim an equal

sanctity for the Protective System. Discussion is the very life of

free institutions, the fruitful mother of all political and moral

enlightenment, and yet the question of all questions must be tabooed.

The Swiss guide enjoins silence in the region of avalanches, lest the

mere vibration of the voice should dislodge the ruin clinging by frail

roots of snow. But where is our avalanche to fall? It is to overwhelm

the Union, we are told. The real danger to the Union will come when

the encroachments of the Slave-Power and the concessions of the

Trade-Power shall have made it a burden instead of a blessing. The

real avalanche to be dreaded, are we to expect it from the

ever-gathering mass of ignorant brute force, with the irresponsibility

of animals and the passions of men, which is one of the fatal

necessities of slavery, or from the gradually increasing consciousness

of the non-slaveholding population of the Slave States of the true

cause of their material impoverishment and political inferiority? From

one or the other source its ruinous forces will be fed, but in either

event it is not the Union that will be imperilled, but the privileged

Order who on every occasion of a thwarted whim have menaced its

disruption, and who will then find in it their only safety.

We believe that the "irrepressible conflict"--for we accept Mr.

Seward's much-denounced phrase in all the breadth of meaning he ever

meant to give it--is to take place in the South itself; because the

Slave-System is one of those fearful blunders in political economy

which are sure, sooner or later, to work their own retribution. The

inevitable tendency of slavery is to concentrate in a few hands the

soil, the capital, and the power of the countries where it exists, to

reduce the non-slaveholding class to a continually lower and lower

level of property, intelligence, and enterprise,--their increase in

numbers adding much to the economical hardship of their position and

nothing to their political weight in the community. There is no

home-encouragement of varied agriculture,--for the wants of a slave

population are few in number and limited in kind; none of inland

trade, for that is developed only by communities where education

induces refinement, where facility of communication stimulates

invention and variety of enterprise, where newspapers make every man's

improvement in tools, machinery, or culture of the soil an incitement

to all, and bring all the thinkers of the world to teach in the cheap

university of the people. We do not, of course, mean to say that

slaveholding states may not and do not produce fine men; but they

fail, by the inherent vice of their constitution and its attendant

consequences, to create enlightened, powerful, and advancing

communities of men, which is the true object of all political

organizations, and which is essential to the prolonged existence of

all those whose life and spirit are derived directly from the people.

Every man who has dispassionately endeavored to enlighten himself in

the matter cannot but see, that, for the many, the course of things in

slaveholding states is substantially what we have described, a

downward one, more or less rapid, in civilization and in all those

results of material prosperity which in a free country show themselves

in the general advancement for the good of all and give a real meaning

to the word Commonwealth. No matter how enormous the wealth centred in

the hands of a few, it has no longer the conservative force or the

beneficent influence which it exerts when equably distributed,--even

loses more of both where a system of absenteeism prevails so largely

as in the South. In such communities the seeds of an "irrepressible

conflict" are purely, if slowly, ripening, and signs are daily

multiplying that the true peril to their social organization is looked

for, less in a revolt of the owned labor than in an insurrection of

intelligence in the labor that owns itself and finds itself none the

richer for it. To multiply such communities is to multiply weakness.

The election in November turns on the single and simple question,

Whether we shall consent to the indefinite multiplication of them; and

the only party which stands plainly and unequivocally pledged against

such a policy, nay, which is not either openly or impliedly in favor

of it, is the Republican party. We are of those who at first regretted

that another candidate was not nominated at Chicago; but we confess

that we have ceased to regret it, for the magnanimity of Mr. Seward

since the result of the Convention was known has been a greater

ornament to him and a greater honor to his party than his election to

the Presidency would have been. We should have been pleased with Mr.

Seward's nomination, for the very reason we have seen assigned for

passing him by,--that he represented the most advanced doctrines of

his party. He, more than any other man, combined in himself the

moralist's oppugnancy to Slavery as a fact, the thinker's resentment

of it as a theory, and the statist's distrust of it as a policy,--thus

summing up the three efficient causes that have chiefly aroused and

concentrated the antagonism of the Free States. Not a brilliant man,

he has that best gift of Nature, which brilliant men commonly lack, of

being always able to do his best; and the very misrepresentation of

his opinions which was resorted to in order to neutralize the effect

of his speeches in the Senate and elsewhere was the best testimony to

their power. Safe from the prevailing epidemic of Congressional

eloquence as if he had been inoculated for it early in his career, he

addresses himself to the reason, and what he says sticks. It was

assumed that his nomination would have embittered the contest and

tainted the Republican creed with radicalism; but we doubt it. We

cannot think that a party gains by not hitting its hardest, or by

sugaring its opinions. Republicanism is not a conspiracy to obtain

office under false pretences. It has a definite aim, an earnest

purpose, and the unflinching tenacity of profound conviction. It was

not called into being by a desire to reform the pecuniary corruptions

of the party now in power. Mr. Bell or Mr. Breckinridge would do that,

for no one doubts their honor or their honesty. It is not unanimous

about the Tariff, about State-Rights, about many other questions of

policy. What unites the Republicans is a common faith in the early

principles and practice of the Republic, a common persuasion that

slavery, as it cannot but be the natural foe of the one, has been the

chief debaser of the other, and a common resolve to resist its

encroachments everywhen and everywhere. They see no reason to fear

that the Constitution, which has shown such pliant tenacity under the

warps and twistings of a forty-years' proslavery pressure, should be

in danger of breaking, if bent backward again gently to its original

rectitude of fibre. "All forms of human government," says Machiavelli,

"have, like men, their natural term, and those only are long-lived

which possess in themselves the power of returning to the principles

on which they were originally founded." It is in a moral aversion to

slavery as a great wrong that the chief strength of the Republican

party lies. They believe as everybody believed sixty years ago; and we

are sorry to see what appears to be an inclination in some quarters to

blink this aspect of the case, lest the party be charged with want of

conservatism, or, what is worse, with abolitionism. It is and will be

charged with all kinds of dreadful things, whatever it does, and it

has nothing to fear from an upright and downright declaration of its

faith. One part of the grateful work it has to do is to deliver us

from the curse of perpetual concession for the sake of a peace that

never comes, and which, if it came, would not be peace, but

submission,--from that torpor and imbecility of faith in God and man

which have stolen the respectable name of Conservatism. A question

which cuts so deep as the one which now divides the country cannot be

debated, much less settled, without excitement. Such excitement is

healthy, and is a sign that the ill humors of the body politic are

coming to the surface, where they are comparatively harmless. It is

the tendency of all creeds, opinions, and political dogmas that have

once defined themselves in institutions to become inoperative. The

vital and formative principle, which was active during the process of

crystallization into sects, or schools of thought, or governments,

ceases to act; and what was once a living emanation of the Eternal

Mind, organically operative in history, becomes the dead formula on

men's lips and the dry topic of the annalist. It has been our good

fortune that a question has been thrust upon us which has forced us to

reconsider the primal principles of government, which has appealed to

conscience as well as reason, and, by bringing the theories of the

Declaration of Independence to the test of experience in our thought

and life and action, has realized a tradition of the memory into a

conviction of the understanding and the soul. It will not do for the

Republicans to confine themselves to the mere political argument, for

the matter then becomes one of expediency, with two defensible sides

to it; they must go deeper, to the radical question of Right and

Wrong, or they surrender the chief advantage of their position. What

Spinoza says of laws is equally true of party-platforms,--that those

are strong which appeal to reason, but those are impregnable which

compel the assent both of reason and the common affections of mankind.

No man pretends that under the Constitution there is any possibility

of interference with the domestic relations of the individual States;

no party has ever remotely hinted at any such interference; but what

the Republicans affirm is, that in every contingency where the

Constitution can be construed in favor of freedom, it ought to be and

shall be so construed. It is idle to talk of sectionalism,

abolitionism, and hostility to the laws. The principles of liberty and

humanity cannot, by virtue of their very nature, be sectional, any

more than light and heat. Prevention is not abolition, and unjust laws

are the only serious enemies that Law ever had. With history before

us, it is no treason to question the infallibility of a court; for

courts are never wiser or more venerable than the men composing them,

and a decision that reverses precedent cannot arrogate to itself any

immunity from reversal. Truth is the only unrepealable thing.

We are gravely requested to have no opinion, or, having one, to

suppress it, on the one topic that has occupied caucuses, newspapers,

Presidents' messages, and Congress, for the last dozen years, lest we

endanger the safety of the Union. The true danger to popular forms of

government begins when public opinion ceases because the people are

incompetent or unwilling to think. In a democracy it is the duty of

every citizen to think; but unless the thinking result in a definite

opinion, and the opinion lead to considerate action, they are nothing.

If the people are assumed to be incapable of forming a judgment for

themselves, the men whose position enables them to guide the public

mind ought certainly to make good their want of intelligence. But on

this great question, the wise solution of which, we are every day

assured, is essential to the permanence of the Union, Mr. Bell has no

opinion at all, Mr. Douglas says it is of no consequence which opinion

prevails, and Mr. Breckinridge tells us vaguely that "all sections

have an equal right in the common Territories." The parties which

support these candidates, however, all agree in affirming that the

election of its special favorite is the one thing that can give back

peace to the distracted country. The distracted country will continue

to take care of itself, as it has done hitherto, and the only question

that needs an answer is, What policy will secure the most prosperous

future to the helpless Territories, which our decision is to make or

mar for all coming time? What will save the country from a Senate and

Supreme Court where freedom shall be forever at a disadvantage?

There is always a fallacy in the argument of the opponents of the

Republican party. They affirm that all the States and all the citizens

of the States ought to have equal rights in the Territories.

Undoubtedly. But the difficulty is that they cannot. The slaveholder

moves into a new Territory with his _institution_, and from that

moment the free white settler is virtually excluded. _His_

institutions he cannot take with him; they refuse to root themselves

in soil that is cultivated by slave-labor. Speech is no longer free;

the post-office is Austrianized; the mere fact of Northern birth may

be enough to hang him. Even now in Texas, settlers from the Free

States are being driven out and murdered for pretended complicity in a

plot the evidence for the existence of which has been obtained by

means without a parallel since the trial of the Salem witches, and the

stories about which are as absurd and contradictory as the confessions

of Goodwife Corey. Kansas was saved, it is true; but it was the

experience of Kansas that disgusted the South with Mr. Douglas's

panacea of "Squatter Sovereignty."

The claim of _equal_ rights in the Territories is a specious fallacy.

Concede the demand of the slavery-extensionists, and you give up every

inch of territory to slavery, to the absolute exclusion of freedom.

For what they ask (however they may disguise it) is simply this,--that

their _local law_ be made the law of the land, and coextensive with

the limits of the General Government. The Constitution acknowledges no

unqualified or interminable right of property in the labor of another;

and the plausible assertion, that "that is property which the law

makes property," (confounding a law existing anywhere with the law

which is binding everywhere,) can deceive only those who have either

never read the Constitution or are ignorant of the opinions and

intentions of those who framed it. It is true only of the States where

slavery already exists; and it is because the propagandists of slavery

are well aware of this, that they are so anxious to establish by

positive enactment the seemingly moderate title to a right of

existence for their institution in the Territories,--a title which

they do not possess, and the possession of which would give them the

oyster and the Free States the shells. Laws accordingly are asked for

to protect Southern property in the Territories,--that is, to protect

the inhabitants from deciding for themselves what their frame of

government shall be. Such laws will be passed, and the fairest portion

of our national domain irrevocably closed to free labor, if the

Non-Slave-holding States fail to do their duty in the present crisis.

But will the election of Mr. Lincoln endanger the Union? It is not a

little remarkable, that, as the prospect of his success increases, the

menaces of secession grow fainter and less frequent. Mr. W.L. Yancey,

to be sure, threatens to secede; but the country can get along without

him, and we wish him a prosperous career in foreign parts. But

Governor Wise no longer proposes to seize the Treasury at

Washington,--perhaps because Mr. Buchanan has left so little in it.

The old Mumbo-Jumbo is occasionally paraded at the North, but, however

many old women may be frightened, the pulse of the stock-market

remains provokingly calm. General Cushing, infringing the patent-right

of the late Mr. James the novelist, has seen a solitary horseman on

the edge of the horizon. The exegesis of the vision has been various,

some thinking that it means a Military Despot--though in that case the

force of cavalry would seem to be inadequate,--and others the Pony

Express. If it had been one rider on two horses, the application would

have been more general and less obscure. In fact, the old cry of

Disunion has lost its terrors, if it ever had any, at the North. The

South itself seems to have become alarmed at its own scarecrow, and

speakers there are beginning to assure their hearers that the election

of Mr. Lincoln will do them no harm. We entirely agree with them, for

it will save them from themselves.

To believe any organized attempt by the Republican party to disturb

the existing internal policy of the Southern States possible

presupposes a manifest absurdity. Before anything of the kind could

take place, the country must be in a state of forcible revolution. But

there is no premonitory symptom of any such convulsion, unless we

except Mr. Yancey, and that gentleman's throwing a solitary somerset

will hardly turn the continent head over heels. The administration of

Mr. Lincoln will be conservative, because no government is ever

intentionally otherwise, and because power never knowingly undermines

the foundation on which it rests. All that the Free States demand is

that influence in the councils of the nation to which they are justly

entitled by their population, wealth, and intelligence. That these

elements of prosperity have increased more rapidly among them than in

communities otherwise organized, with greater advantages of soil,

climate, and mineral productions, is certainly no argument that they

are incapable of the duties of efficient and prudent administration,

however strong a one it may be for their endeavoring to secure for the

Territories the single superiority that has made them what they are.

The object of the Republican party is not the abolition of African

slavery, but the utter extirpation of dogmas which are the logical

sequence of the attempts to establish its righteousness and wisdom,

and which would serve equally well to justify the enslavement of every

white man unable to protect himself. They believe that slavery is a

wrong morally, a mistake politically, and a misfortune practically,

wherever it exists; that it has nullified our influence abroad and

forced us to compromise with our better instincts at home; that it has

perverted our government from its legitimate objects, weakened the

respect for the laws by making them the tools of its purposes, and

sapped the faith of men in any higher political morality than interest

or any better statesmanship than chicane. They mean in every lawful

way to hem it within its present limits.

We are persuaded that the election of Mr. Lincoln will do more than

anything else to appease the excitement of the country. He has proved

both his ability and his integrity; he has had experience enough in

public affairs to make him a statesman, and not enough to make him a

politician. That he has not had more will be no objection to him in

the eyes of those who have seen the administration of the experienced

public functionary whose term of office is just drawing to a close. He

represents a party who know that true policy is gradual in its

advances, that it is conditional and not absolute, that it must deal

with facts and not with sentiments, but who know also that it is wiser

to stamp out evil in the spark than to wait till there is no help but

in fighting fire with fire. They are the only conservative party,

because they are the only one based on an enduring principle, the only

one that is not willing to pawn tomorrow for the means to gamble with

today. They have no hostility to the South, but a determined one to

doctrines of whose ruinous tendency every day more and more convinces

them.

The encroachments of Slavery upon our national policy have been like

those of a glacier in a Swiss valley. Inch by inch, the huge dragon

with his glittering scales and crests of ice coils itself onward, an

anachronism of summer, the relic of a bygone world where such monsters

swarmed. But it has its limit, the kindlier forces of Nature work

against it, and the silent arrows of the sun are still, as of old,

fatal to the frosty Python. Geology tells us that such enormous

devastators once covered the face of the earth, but the benignant

sunlight of heaven touched them, and they faded silently, leaving no

trace but here and there the scratches of their talons, and the gnawed

boulders scattered where they made their lair. We have entire faith in

the benignant influence of Truth, the sunlight of the moral world, and

believe that slavery, like other worn-out systems, will melt gradually

before it. "All the earth cries out upon Truth, and the heaven

blesseth it; ill works shake and tremble at it, and with it is no

unrighteous thing."

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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 06, No. 36, October, 1860 A Magazine Of Literature, Art, And Politics · 第 39 / 44 题