SPEECH IN THE SENATE, ON THE DEATH OF HON. ROBERT RANTOUL, JR.,
AUGUST 9, 1852.
A message was received from the House of Representatives, by Mr. Hayes,
its Chief Clerk, communicating to the Senate information of the death
of the Hon. ROBERT RANTOUL, JR., a member of the House of
Representatives from the State of Massachusetts, and the proceedings of
the House thereon.
The resolutions of the House of Representatives were read. Mr. Sumner
said:--
Mr. President,--By formal message of the House of Representatives
we learn that one of our associates in the public councils is dead.
Only a few brief days--I had almost said hours--have passed since
he was in his accustomed seat. Now he is gone from us forever.
He was my colleague and friend; and yet, so sudden has been this
change, that no tidings even of his illness came to me before I
learned that he was already beyond the reach of mortal aid or
consolation, and that the shadows of the grave were descending
upon him. He died here in Washington, late on Saturday evening,
7th August; and his earthly remains, accompanied by the bereaved
companion of his life, with a Committee of the other House, are now
far on the way to Massachusetts, there to mingle, dust to dust,
with his natal soil.
The occasion does not permit me to speak of Mr. Rantoul at length.
A few words will suffice; nor will the language of eulogy be
required.
He was born 13th August, 1805, at Beverly, in Essex County,
Massachusetts, the home of Nathan Dane, final author of the
immortal Ordinance by which Freedom was made a perpetual heirloom
in the broad region of the Northwest. Here he commenced life under
happy auspices of family and neighborhood. Here his excellent
father, honored for public services, venerable also with years and
flowing silver locks, yet lives to mourn a last surviving son.
The sad fortune of Burke is renewed. He who should have been as
posterity is to this father in the place of ancestor.
Mr. Rantoul entered the Massachusetts Legislature early, and there
won his first fame. For many years he occupied a place on the Board
of Education. He was also, for a time, Collector of Boston, and
afterwards Attorney of the United States for Massachusetts. During
a brief period he held a seat in this body. Finally, in 1851, by
the choice of his native District, remarkable for intelligence
and public spirit, he became a Representative in the other branch
of the National Legislature. In all these spheres he performed
acceptable service. And the future promised opportunities of a
higher character, to which his abilities, industry, and fidelity
would have responded amply. Massachusetts has many arrows in her
well-stocked quiver, but few could she so ill spare at this moment
as the one now irrevocably sped.
By original fitness, study, knowledge, and various experience,
he was formed for public service. But he was no stranger to
other pursuits. Devoted early to the profession of the law, he
followed it with assiduity and success. In the antiquities of
our jurisprudence few were more learned. His arguments at the
bar were thorough; nor was his intellectual promptness in all
emergencies of a trial easily surpassed. Literature, neglected by
many under pressure of professional life, was with him a constant
pursuit. His taste for books was enduring. He was a student always.
Amidst manifold labors, professional and public, he cherished the
honorable aspiration of adding to the historical productions of
his country. A work on the history of France, where this great
nation should be portrayed by an American pen, occupied much of his
thoughts. I know not if any part was ever matured for publication.
The practice of the law, while sharpening the intellect, is too
apt to cramp the faculties within the narrow limits of form, and
to restrain the genial currents of the soul. On him it had no
such influence. He was a Reformer. In warfare with Evil he was
enlisted early and openly as a soldier for life. As such, he did
not hesitate to encounter opposition, to bear obloquy, and to
brave enmity. His conscience, pure as goodness, sustained him in
every trial,--even that sharpest of all, the desertion of friends.
And yet, while earnest in his cause, his zeal was tempered beyond
that of the common reformer. He knew well the difference between
the _ideal_ and the _actual_, and sought, by practical means, in
harmony with existing public sentiment, to promote the interests he
fondly cherished. He saw that reform does not prevail at once, in
an hour, or in a day, but that it is the slow and certain result of
constant labor, testimony, and faith. Determined and tranquil in
his own convictions, he had the grace to respect the convictions
of others. Recognizing in the social and political system those
essential elements of stability and progress, he discerned at once
the offices of Conservative and Reformer. But he saw also that a
blind conservatism was not less destructive than a blind reform.
By mingled caution, moderation, and earnestness, he seemed often
to blend two characters in one, and to be at the same time a
_Reforming Conservative_ and a _Conservative Reformer_.
I might speak of his devotion to public improvements of all kinds,
particularly to the system of Railroads. Here he was on the popular
side. There were other causes where his struggle was keener and
more meritorious. At a moment when his services were much needed,
he was the faithful supporter of Common Schools, the peculiar
glory of New England. By word and example he sustained the cause
of Temperance. Some of his most devoted labors, commencing in the
Legislature of Massachusetts, were for the Abolition of Capital
Punishment. Since that consummate jurist, Edward Livingston, no
person has done so much, by reports, essays, letters, and speeches,
to commend this reform. With its final triumph, in the progress
of civilization, his name will be indissolubly connected. There
is another cause that commanded his early sympathies and some of
his latest best endeavors, to which, had life been spared, he
would have given the splendid maturity of his powers. Posterity
cannot forget this; but I am forbidden by the occasion to name it
here. Sir, in the long line of portraits on the walls of the Ducal
Palace at Venice, commemorating its Doges, a single panel, where a
portrait should have been, is shrouded by a dark curtain. But this
darkened blank, in that place, attracts the beholder more than any
picture. Let such a curtain fall to-day upon this theme.[97]
[97] Slavery could not bear to be pointed at, and this slight
allusion, which seemed due to the memory of Mr. Rantoul, caused
irritation at the time. Hon. John Davis, the other Senator from
Massachusetts, assigned as a reason for silence on the occasion,
that he observed the ill-feeling of certain persons, and thought it
best that the vote should be taken at once.
In becoming harmony with these noble causes was the purity of his
private life. Here he was blameless. In manners he was modest,
simple, and retiring. In conversation he was disposed to listen
rather than to speak, though all were well pleased when he broke
silence and in apt language declared his glowing thought. But in
the public assembly, before the people, or in the legislative hall,
he was bold and triumphant. As a debater he rarely met his peer.
Fluent, earnest, rapid, sharp, incisive, his words came forth
like a flashing scymitar. Few could stand against him. He always
understood his subject, and then, clear, logical, and determined,
seeing his point before him, pressed forward with unrelenting
power. His speeches on formal occasions were enriched by study,
and contain passages of beauty. But he was most truly at home in
dealing with practical questions arising from the actual exigencies
of life.
Few had studied public affairs more minutely or intelligently.
As a constant and effective member of the Democratic party, he
became conspicuous by championship of its doctrines on the Currency
and Free Trade. These he often discussed, and from the amplitude
of his knowledge, and his overflowing familiarity with facts,
statistics, and the principles of political economy, poured upon
them a luminous flood. There was no topic within the wide range of
national concern which did not occupy his thoughts. The resources
and needs of the West were all known to him, and Western interests
were like his own. As the pioneer, resting from his daily labors,
learns the death of RANTOUL, he will feel a personal grief. The
fishermen on the distant Eastern coast, many of whom are dwellers
in his District, will sympathize with the pioneer. These hardy
children of the sea, returning in their small craft from late
adventures, and hearing the sad tidings, will feel that they too
have lost a friend. And well they may. During his last fitful hours
of life, while reason still struggled against disease, he was
anxious for their welfare. The speech which he had hoped soon to
make in their behalf was then chasing through his mind. Finally, in
broken utterances, he gave to them his latest earthly thoughts.
The death of such a man, so sudden, in mid-career, is well
calculated to arrest attention and to furnish admonition. From
the love of family, the attachment of friends, and the regard of
fellow-citizens, he has been removed. Leaving behind the cares of
life, the concerns of state, and the wretched strifes of party, he
has ascended to those mansions where there is no strife or concern
or care. At last he stands face to face in His presence whose
service is perfect freedom. He has gone before. You and I, Sir, and
all of us, must follow soon. God grant that we may go with equal
consciousness of duty done!
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