THURSDAY, _26th August, 1852_.--The Civil and Diplomatic
Appropriation Bill being under consideration, the following amendment
was moved by Mr. Hunter, of Virginia, on the recommendation of the
Committee on Finance.
"That, where the ministerial officers of the United States have or
shall incur extraordinary expense in executing the laws thereof,
the payment of which is not specifically provided for, the
President of the United States is authorized to allow the payment
thereof, under the special taxation of the District or Circuit
Court of the District in which the said services have been or shall
be rendered, to be paid from the appropriation for defraying the
expenses of the Judiciary."
MR. SUMNER seized the opportunity for which he had been
waiting, and at once moved the following amendment to the amendment:--
"_Provided_, That no such allowance shall be authorized for any
expenses incurred in executing the Act of September 18, 1850, for
the surrender of fugitives from service or labor; which said Act is
hereby repealed."
On this he took the floor, and spoke as follows.
MR. PRESIDENT,--Here is a provision for extraordinary expenses
incurred in executing the laws of the United States. Extraordinary
expenses! Sir, beneath these specious words lurks the very subject
on which, by a solemn vote of this body, I was refused a hearing.
Here it is; no longer open to the charge of being an "abstraction,"
but actually presented for practical legislation; not introduced
by me, but by the Senator from Virginia [Mr. HUNTER], on the
recommendation of an important committee of the Senate; not
brought forward weeks ago, when there was ample time for
discussion, but only at this moment, without any reference to the
late period of the session. The amendment which I offer proposes to
remove one chief occasion of these extraordinary expenses. Beyond
all controversy or cavil it is strictly in order. And now, at last,
among these final crowded days of our duties here, but at this
earliest opportunity, I am to be heard,--not as a favor, but as a
right. The graceful usages of this body may be abandoned, but the
established privileges of debate cannot be abridged. Parliamentary
courtesy may be forgotten, but parliamentary law must prevail. The
subject is broadly before the Senate. By the blessing of God it
shall be discussed.
Sir, a severe lawgiver of early Greece vainly sought to secure
permanence for his imperfect institutions by providing that the
citizen who at any time attempted their repeal or alteration
should appear in the public assembly with a halter about his neck,
ready to be drawn, if his proposition failed. A tyrannical spirit
among us, in unconscious imitation of this antique and discarded
barbarism, seeks to surround an offensive institution with similar
safeguard. In the existing distemper of the public mind, and at
this present juncture, no man can enter upon the service which I
now undertake, without personal responsibility, such as can be
sustained only by that sense of duty which, under God, is always
our best support. That personal responsibility I accept. Before the
Senate and the country let me be held accountable for this act and
for every word which I utter.
With me, Sir, there is no alternative. Painfully convinced of
the unutterable wrong and woe of Slavery,--profoundly believing,
that, according to the true spirit of the Constitution and the
sentiments of the Fathers, it can find no place under our National
Government,--that it is in every respect _sectional_, and in no
respect _national_,--that it is always and everywhere creature and
dependant of the _States_, and never anywhere creature or dependant
of the _Nation_,--and that the _Nation_ can never, by legislative
or other act, impart to it any support, under the Constitution of
the United States,--with these convictions I could not allow this
session to reach its close without making or seizing an opportunity
to declare myself openly against the usurpation, injustice, and
cruelty of the late intolerable enactment for the recovery of
fugitive slaves. Full well I know, Sir, the difficulties of this
discussion, arising from prejudices of opinion and from adverse
conclusions strong and sincere as my own. Full well I know that
I am in a small minority, with few here to whom I can look for
sympathy or support. Full well I know that I must utter things
unwelcome to many in this body, which I cannot do without pain.
Full well I know that the institution of Slavery in our country,
which I now proceed to consider, is as sensitive as it is powerful,
possessing a power to shake the whole land, with a sensitiveness
that shrinks and trembles at the touch. But while these things
may properly prompt me to caution and reserve, they cannot change
my duty, or my determination to perform it. For this I willingly
forget myself and all personal consequences. The favor and
good-will of my fellow-citizens, of my brethren of the Senate, Sir,
grateful to me as they justly are, I am ready, if required, to
sacrifice. Whatever I am or may be I freely offer to this cause.
Here allow, for one moment, a reference to myself and my position.
Sir, I have never been a politician. The slave of principles, I
call no party master. By sentiment, education, and conviction a
friend of Human Rights in their utmost expansion, I have ever
most sincerely embraced the Democratic Idea,--not, indeed, as
represented or professed by any party, but according to its real
significance, as transfigured in the Declaration of Independence
and in the injunctions of Christianity. In this idea I see no
narrow advantage merely for individuals or classes, but the
sovereignty of the people, and the greatest happiness of all
secured by equal laws. Amidst the vicissitudes of public affairs
I shall hold fast always to this idea, and to any political party
which truly embraces it.
Party does not constrain me; nor is my independence lessened by
any relations to the office which gives me a title to be heard
on this floor. Here, Sir, I speak proudly. By no effort, by no
desire of my own, I find myself a Senator of the United States.
Never before have I held public office of any kind. With the ample
opportunities of private life I was content. No tombstone for me
could bear a fairer inscription than this: "Here lies one who,
without the honors or emoluments of public station, did something
for his fellow-men." From such simple aspirations I was taken
away by the free choice of my native Commonwealth, and placed at
this responsible post of duty, without personal obligation of any
kind, beyond what was implied in my life and published words. The
earnest friends by whose confidence I was first designated asked
nothing from me, and throughout the long conflict which ended in my
election rejoiced in the position which I most carefully guarded.
To all my language was uniform: that I did not desire to be brought
forward; that I would do nothing to promote the result; that I had
no pledges or promises to offer; that the office should seek me,
and not I the office; and that it should find me in all respects an
independent man, bound to no party and to no human being, but only,
according to my best judgment, to act for the good of all. Again,
Sir, I speak with pride, both for myself and others, when I add
that these avowals found a sympathizing response. In this spirit I
have come here, and in this spirit I shall speak to-day.
Rejoicing in my independence, and claiming nothing from party ties,
I throw myself upon the candor and magnanimity of the Senate. I
ask your attention; I trust not to abuse it. I may speak strongly,
for I shall speak openly and from the strength of my convictions.
I may speak warmly, for I shall speak from the heart. But in no
event can I forget the amenities which belong to debate, and which
especially become this body. Slavery I must condemn with my whole
soul; but here I need only borrow the language of slaveholders; nor
would it accord with my habits or my sense of justice to exhibit
them as the impersonation of the institution--Jefferson calls it
the "enormity"[103]--which they cherish. Of them I do not speak;
but without fear and without favor, as without impeachment of any
person, I assail this wrong. Again, Sir, I may err; but it will
be with the Fathers. I plant myself on the ancient ways of the
Republic, with its grandest names, its surest landmarks, and all
its original altar-fires about me.
[103] Letter to Dr. Price, August 7, 1785: Memoir, Correspondence,
etc., ed. Randolph, Vol. I. p. 269; Writings, Vol. I. p. 377.
And now, on the very threshold, I encounter the objection, that
there is a final settlement, in principle and substance, of the
question of Slavery, and that all discussion of it is closed.
Both the old political parties, by formal resolutions, in recent
conventions at Baltimore, have united in this declaration. On a
subject which for years has agitated the public mind, which yet
palpitates in every heart and burns on every tongue, which in
its immeasurable importance dwarfs all other subjects, which by
its constant and gigantic presence throws a shadow across these
halls, which at this very time calls for appropriations to meet
extraordinary expenses it has caused, they impose the rule of
silence. According to them, Sir, we may speak of everything except
that alone which is most present in all our minds.
To this combined effort I might fitly reply, that, with flagrant
inconsistency, it challenges the very discussion it pretends to
forbid. Their very declaration, on the eve of an election, is, of
course, submitted to the consideration and ratification of the
people. Debate, inquiry, discussion, are the necessary consequence.
Silence becomes impossible. Slavery, which you profess to banish
from public attention, openly by your invitation enters every
political meeting and every political convention. Nay, at this
moment it stalks into this Senate, crying, like the daughters of
the horseleech, "Give! give!"
But no unanimity of politicians can uphold the baseless assumption,
that a law, or any conglomerate of laws, under the name of
Compromise, or howsoever called, is final. Nothing can be plainer
than this,--that by no parliamentary device or knot can any
Legislature tie the hands of a succeeding Legislature, so as to
prevent the full exercise of its constitutional powers. Each
Legislature, under a just sense of its responsibility, must judge
for itself; and if it think proper, it may revise, or amend, or
absolutely undo the work of any predecessor. The laws of the Medes
and Persians are said proverbially to have been unalterable; but
they stand forth in history as a single example where the true
principles of all law have been so irrationally defied.
To make a law final, so as not to be reached by Congress, is, by
mere legislation, to fasten a new provision on the Constitution.
Nay, more; it gives to the law a character which the very
Constitution does not possess. The wise Fathers did not treat
the country as a Chinese foot, never to grow after infancy; but,
anticipating progress, they declared expressly that their great
Act is not final. According to the Constitution itself, there is
not one of its existing provisions--not even that with regard to
fugitives from labor--which may not at all times be reached by
amendment, and thus be drawn into debate. This is rational and
just. Sir, nothing from man's hands, nor law nor constitution, can
be final. Truth alone is final.
Inconsistent and absurd, this effort is tyrannical also. The
responsibility for the recent Slave Act, and for Slavery everywhere
within the jurisdiction of Congress, necessarily involves the
right to discuss them. To separate these is impossible. Like
the twenty-fifth rule[104] of the House of Representatives
against petitions on Slavery,--now repealed and dishonored,--the
Compromise, as explained and urged, is a curtailment of the actual
powers of legislation, and a perpetual denial of the indisputable
principle, that the right to deliberate is coextensive with the
responsibility for an act. To sustain Slavery, it is now proposed
to trample on _free speech_. In any country this would be grievous;
but here, where the Constitution expressly provides against
abridging freedom of speech, it is a special outrage. In vain do we
condemn the despotisms of Europe, while we borrow the rigors with
which they repress Liberty, and guard their own uncertain power.
For myself, in no factious spirit, but solemnly and in loyalty to
the Constitution, as a Senator of the United States, representing
a free Commonwealth, I protest against this wrong. On Slavery,
as on every other subject, I claim the right to be heard. That
right I cannot, I will not abandon. "Give me the liberty to know,
to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above all
liberties":[105] these are glowing words, flashed from the soul
of John Milton in his struggles with English tyranny. With equal
fervor they should be echoed now by every American not already a
slave.
[104] Originally the twenty-first, adopted January 28, 1840 (26th
Cong. 1st Sess.), by Yeas 114, Nays 108; rescinded, on motion of
John Quincy Adams, December 3, 1844 (28th Cong. 2d Sess.), by Yeas
108, Nays 80. It will be observed that the vote of the opponents
of the rule was precisely the same (108) on its adoption as on its
abrogation. Obviously many of the original supporters or their
successors withheld their votes on the latter occasion. The rule in
question was in these words: "No petition, memorial, resolution,
or other paper, praying the abolition of slavery in the District
of Columbia, or any State or Territory, or the slave-trade between
the States or Territories of the United States in which it now
exists, shall be received by this House, or entertained in any way
whatever."
[105] Milton, Areopagitica: A Speech for the Liberty of Unlicensed
Printing: Prose Works, ed. Symmons, Vol. I. p. 325.
But, Sir, this effort is impotent as tyrannical. Convictions of
the heart cannot be repressed. Utterances of conscience must be
heard. They break forth with irrepressible might. As well attempt
to check the tides of Ocean, the currents of the Mississippi,
or the rushing waters of Niagara. The discussion of Slavery will
proceed, wherever two or three are gathered together,--by the
fireside, on the highway, at the public meeting, in the church. The
movement against Slavery is from the Everlasting Arm. Even now it
is gathering its forces, soon to be confessed everywhere. It may
not be felt yet in the high places of office and power, but all who
can put their ears humbly to the ground will hear and comprehend
its incessant and advancing tread.
The relations of the National Government to Slavery, though plain
and obvious, are constantly misunderstood. A popular belief at
this moment makes Slavery a national institution, and of course
renders its support a national duty. The extravagance of this
error can hardly be surpassed. An institution which our fathers
most carefully omitted to name in the Constitution, which,
according to the debates in the Convention, they refused to cover
with any "sanction," and which, at the original organization of
the Government, was merely _sectional_, existing nowhere on the
_national_ territory, is now, above all other things, blazoned as
national. Its supporters pride themselves as national. The old
political parties, while upholding it, claim to be national. A
National Whig is simply a Slavery Whig, and a National Democrat is
simply a Slavery Democrat, in contradistinction to all who regard
Slavery as a sectional institution, within the exclusive control of
the States, and with which the nation has nothing to do.
As Slavery assumes to be national, so, by an equally strange
perversion, Freedom is degraded to be sectional, and all who uphold
it, under the National Constitution, are made to share this same
epithet. Honest efforts to secure its blessings everywhere within
the jurisdiction of Congress are scouted as sectional; and this
cause, which the founders of our National Government had so much
at heart, is called _Sectionalism_. These terms, now belonging to
the commonplaces of political speech, are adopted and misapplied
by most persons without reflection. But here is the power of
Slavery. According to a curious tradition of the French language,
Louis the Fourteenth, the Grand Monarch, by an accidental error
of speech, among supple courtiers, changed the gender of a noun.
But Slavery does more. It changes word for word. It teaches men to
say _national_ instead of _sectional_, and _sectional_ instead of
_national_.
Slavery national! Sir, this is a mistake and absurdity, fit to
have a place in some new collection of Vulgar Errors, by some
other Sir Thomas Browne, with the ancient, but exploded stories,
that the toad has a gem in its head, and that ostriches digest
iron. According to the true spirit of the Constitution, and
the sentiments of the Fathers, _Slavery_, and not Freedom, is
_sectional_, while _Freedom_, and not Slavery, is _national_. On
this unanswerable proposition I take my stand, and here commences
my argument.
The subject presents itself under two principal heads: first, _the
true relations of the National Government to Slavery_, wherein it
will appear that there is no national fountain from which Slavery
can be derived, and no national power, under the Constitution, by
which it can be supported. Enlightened by this general survey,
we shall be prepared to consider, secondly, _the true nature of
the provision for the rendition of fugitives from service_, and
herein especially the unconstitutional and offensive legislation of
Congress in pursuance thereof.