attend a postponement. To suspend our proceedings will not throw us into
a situation which will require new negotiations, new arrangements on the
points already settled and well understood by both parties. It will be
merely a delay, until an explanation of the late conduct of the British
towards us may be obtained, or until that conduct may be altered. If, on
the contrary, we consent to carry the treaty into effect, under the
present circumstances, what will be our situation in future? It is by
committing the most wanton and the most unprovoked aggressions on our
trade; it is by seizing a large amount of our property as a pledge for
our good behavior, that Great Britain has forced the nation into the
present treaty. If by threatening new hostilities, or rather by
continuing her aggressions, even after the treaty is made, she can force
us also to carry it into effect, our acquiescence will be tantamount to
a declaration that we mean to submit in proportion to the insults that
are offered to us; and this disposition being once known, what security
have we against new insults, new aggressions, new spoliations, which
probably will lay the foundation of some additional sacrifices on ours?
It has been said, and said with truth, that to put up with the
indignities we have received without obtaining any reparation, which
will probably be the effect of defeating the treaty, is highly
dishonorable to the nation.
In my opinion it is still more so not only tamely to submit to a
continuation of these national insults, but while they thus continue
uninterrupted, to carry into effect the instrument we have consented to
accept as a reparation for former ones. When the general conduct of
Great Britain towards us from the beginning of the present war is
considered; when the means by which she has produced the treaty are
reflected on, a final compliance on our part while she still persists in
that conduct, whilst the chastening rod of that nation is still held
over us, is in my opinion a dereliction of national interest, of
national honor, of national independence.
But it is said, that war must be the consequence of our delaying to
carry the treaty into effect. Do the gentlemen mean, that if we reject
the treaty, if we do not accept the reparation there given to us, in
order to obtain redress, we have no alternative left but war? If we must
go to war in order to obtain reparation for insults and spoliations on
our trade, we must do it, even if we carry the present treaty into
effect; for this treaty gives us no reparation for the aggressions
committed since it was ratified, has not produced a discontinuance of
those acts of hostility, and gives us no security that they shall be
discontinued. But the arguments of those gentlemen, who suppose that
America must go to war, apply to a final rejection of the treaty, and
not to a delay. I do not propose to refuse the reparation offered by the
treaty, and to put up with the aggressions committed; I have agreed that
that reparation, such as it is, is a valuable article of the treaty; I
have agreed, that under the present circumstances, a greater evil will
follow a total rejection of, than an acquiescence in, the treaty. The
only measure which has been mentioned, in preference to the one now
under discussion, is a suspension, a postponement, whilst the present
spoliations continue, in hopes to obtain for them a similar reparation,
and assurances that they shall cease.
But is it meant to insinuate that it is the final intention of those who
pretend to wish only for a postponement, to involve this country in a
war? There has been no period during the present European war, at which
it would not have been equally weak and wicked to adopt such measures as
must involve America in the contest, unless forced into it for the sake
of self-defence; but, at this time, to think of it would fall but little
short of madness. The whole American nation would rise in opposition to
the idea; and it might at least have been recollected, that war can not
be declared, except by Congress, and that two of the branches of
government are sufficient to check the other in any supposed attempt of
this kind.
If there is no necessity imposed upon America to go to war, if there is
no apprehension she will, by her own conduct, involve herself in one,
the danger must arise from Great Britain, and the threat is, that she
will make war against us if we do not comply. Gentlemen first tell us
that we have made the best possible bargain with that nation; that she
has conceded everything, without receiving a single iota in return, and
yet they would persuade us, that she will make war against us in order
to force us to accept that contract so advantageous to us, and so
injurious to herself. It will not be contended that a delay, until an
amicable explanation is obtained, could afford even a pretence to Great
Britain for going to war; and we all know that her own interest would
prevent her. If another campaign takes place, it is acknowledged, that
all her efforts are to be exerted against the West Indies. She has
proclaimed her own scarcity of provisions at home, and she must depend
on our supplies to support her armament. It depends upon us to defeat
her whole scheme, and this is a sufficient pledge against open
hostility, if the European war continues. If peace takes place, there
will not be even the appearance of danger; the moment when a nation is
happy enough to emerge from one of the most expensive, bloody, and
dangerous wars in which she ever has been involved, will be the last she
would choose to plunge afresh into a similar calamity.
But to the cry of war, the alarmists do not fail to add that of
confusion; and they have declared, even on this floor, that if the
resolution is not adopted government will be dissolved. Government
dissolved in case a postponement takes place! The idea is too absurd to
deserve a direct answer. But I will ask those gentlemen, by whom is
government to be dissolved? Certainly not by those who may vote against
the resolution; for although they are not perhaps fortunate enough to
have obtained the confidence of the gentlemen who voted against them,
still it must be agreed, that those who succeed in their wishes, who
defeat a measure they dislike, will not wish to destroy that government,
which they hold so far in their hands as to be able to carry their own
measures. For them to dissolve government, would be to dissolve their
own power. By whom, then, I again ask, is the government to be
dissolved? The gentlemen must answer--by themselves--or they must
declare that they mean nothing but to alarm. Is it really the language
of those men, who profess to be, who distinguish themselves by the
self-assumed appellation of friends to order, that if they do not
succeed in all their measures they will overset government--and have all
their professions been only a veil to hide their love of power, a
pretence to cover their ambition? Do they mean, that the first event
which shall put an end to their own authority shall be the last act of
government? As to myself, I do not believe that they have such
intentions; I have too good an opinion of their patriotism to allow
myself to admit such an idea a single moment; but I think myself
justifiable in entertaining a belief, that some amongst them, in order
to carry a favorite, and what they think to be an advantageous measure,
mean to spread an alarm which they do not feel; and I have no doubt,
that many have contracted such a habit of carrying every measure of
government as they please, that they really think that every thing must
be thrown into confusion the moment they are thwarted in a matter of
importance. I hope that experience will in future cure their fears. But,
at all events, be the wishes and intentions of the members of this House
what they may, it is not in their power to dissolve the government. The
people of the United States, from one end of the continent to the other,
are strongly attached to their Constitution; they would restrain and
punish the excesses of any party, of any set of men in government, who
would be guilty of the attempt; and on them I will rest as a full
security against every endeavor to destroy our Union, our Constitution,
or our government.
If the people of the United States wish this House to carry the treaty
into effect immediately, and notwithstanding the continued aggressions
of the British, if their will was fairly and fully expressed, I would
immediately acquiesce; but since an appeal has been made to them, it is
reasonable to suspend a decision until their sentiments are known. Till
then I must follow my own judgment; and as I cannot see that any
possible evils will follow a delay, I shall vote against the resolution
before the committee, in order to make room, either for that proposed by
my colleague, Mr. Maclay, or for any other, expressed in any manner
whatever, provided it embraces the object I have in view, to wit, the
suspension of the final vote--a postponement of the laws necessary to
carry the treaty into effect, until satisfactory assurances are obtained
that Great Britain means, in future, to show us that friendly
disposition which it is my earnest wish may at all times be cultivated
by America towards all other nations.
FISHER AMES,
OF MASSACHUSETTS. (BORN 1758, DIED 1808.)
ON THE BRITISH TREATY, HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, APRIL 28, 1796.
It would be strange, that a subject, which has aroused in turn all the
passions of the country, should be discussed without the interference of
any of our own. We are men, and therefore not exempt from those
passions; as citizens and representatives, we feel the interests that
must excite them. The hazard of great interests cannot fail to agitate
strong passions. We are not disinterested; it is impossible we should be
dispassionate. The warmth of such feelings may becloud the judgment,
and, for a time, pervert the understanding. But the public sensibility,
and our own, has sharpened the spirit of inquiry, and given an animation
to the debate. The public attention has been quickened to mark the
progress of the discussion, and its judgment, often hasty and erroneous
on first impressions, has become solid and enlightened at last. Our
result will, I hope, on that account, be safer and more mature, as well
as more accordant with that of the nation. The only constant agents in
political affairs are the passions of men. Shall we complain of our
nature--shall we say that man ought to have been made otherwise? It is
right already, because He, from whom we derive our nature, ordained it
so; and because thus made and thus acting, the cause of truth and the
public good is more surely promoted.
The treaty is bad, fatally bad, is the cry. It sacrifices the interest,
the honor, the independence of the United States, and the faith of our
engagements to France. If we listen to the clamor of party intemperance,
the evils are of a number not to be counted, and of a nature not to be
borne, even in idea. The language of passion and exaggeration may
silence that of sober reason in other places, it has not done it here.
The question here is, whether the treaty be really so very fatal as to
oblige the nation to break its faith. I admit that such a treaty ought
not to be executed. I admit that self-preservation is the first law of
society, as well as of individuals. It would, perhaps, be deemed an
abuse of terms to call that a treaty, which violates such a principle. I
waive also, for the present, any inquiry, what departments shall
represent the nation, and annul the stipulations of a treaty. I content
myself with pursuing the inquiry, whether the nature of this compact be
such as to justify our refusal to carry it into effect. A treaty is the
promise of a nation. Now, promises do not always bind him that makes
them. But I lay down two rules, which ought to guide us in this case.
The treaty must appear to be bad, not merely in the petty details, but
in its character, principle, and mass. And in the next place, this ought
to be ascertained by the decided and general concurrence of the
enlightened public.
I confess there seems to be something very like ridicule thrown over the
debate by the discussion of the articles in detail. The undecided point
is, shall we break our faith? And while our country and enlightened
Europe, await the issue with more than curiosity, we are employed to
gather piecemeal, and article by article, from the instrument, a
justification for the deed by trivial calculations of commercial profit
and loss. This is little worthy of the subject, of this body, or of the
nation. If the treaty is bad, it will appear to be so in its mass. Evil
to a fatal extreme, if that be its tendency, requires no proof; it
brings it. Extremes speak for themselves and make their own law. What if
the direct voyage of American ships to Jamaica with horses or lumber,
might net one or two per centum more than the present trade to Surinam;
would the proof of the fact avail any thing in so grave a question as
the violation of the public engagements?
Why do they complain, that the West Indies are not laid open? Why do
they lament, that any restriction is stipulated on the commerce of the
East Indies? Why do they pretend, that if they reject this, and insist
upon more, more will be accomplished? Let us be explicit--more would not
satisfy. If all was granted, would not a treaty of amity with Great
Britain still be obnoxious? Have we not this instant heard it urged
against our envoy, that he was not ardent enough in his hatred of Great
Britain? A treaty of amity is condemned because it was not made by a
foe, and in the spirit of one. The same gentleman, at the same instant,
repeats a very prevailing objection, that no treaty should be made with
the enemy of France. No treaty, exclaim others, should be made with a
monarch or a despot; there will be no naval security while those
sea-robbers domineer on the ocean; their den must be destroyed; that
nation must be extirpated.
I like this, sir, because it is sincerity. With feelings such as these,
we do not pant for treaties. Such passions seek nothing, and will be
content with nothing, but the destruction of their object. If a treaty
left King George his island, it would not answer; not if he stipulated
to pay rent for it. It has been said, the world ought to rejoice if
Britain was sunk in the sea; if where there are now men and wealth and
laws and liberty, there was no more than a sand bank for sea monsters to
fatten on; a space for the storms of the ocean to mingle in conflict.
What is patriotism? Is it a narrow affection for the spot where a man
was born? Are the very clods where we tread entitled to this ardent
preference because they are greener? No, sir, this is not the character
of the virtue, and it soars higher for its object. It is an extended
self-love, mingling with all the enjoyments of life, and twisting itself
with the minutest filaments of the heart. It is thus we obey the laws of
society, because they are the laws of virtue. In their authority we see,
not the array of force and terror, but the venerable image of our
country's honor. Every good citizen makes that honor his own, and
cherishes it not only as precious, but as sacred. He is willing to risk
his life in its defence, and is conscious that he gains protection while
he gives it. For, what rights of a citizen will be deemed inviolable
when a state renounces the principles that constitute their security? Or
if his life should not be invaded, what would its enjoyments be in a
country odious in the eyes of strangers and dishonored in his own? Could
he look with affection and veneration to such a country as his parent?
The sense of having one would die within him; he would blush for his
patriotism, if he retained any, and justly, for it would be a vice. He
would be a banished man in his native land. I see no exception to the
respect that is paid among nations to the law of good faith. If there
are cases in this enlightened period when it is violated, there are none
when it is decried. It is the philosophy of politics, the religion of
governments. It is observed by barbarians--a whiff of tobacco smoke, or
a string of beads, gives not merely binding force but sanctity to
treaties. Even in Algiers, a truce may be bought for money, but when
ratified, even Algiers is too wise, or too just, to disown and annul its
obligation. Thus we see, neither the ignorance of savages, nor the
principles of an association for piracy and rapine, permit a nation to
despise its engagements. If, sir, there could be a resurrection from the
foot of the gallows, if the victims of justice could live again, collect
together and form a society, they would, however loath, soon find
themselves obliged to make justice, that justice under which they fell,
the fundamental law of their state. They would perceive, it was their
interest to make others respect, and they would therefore soon pay some
respect themselves, to the obligations of good faith.
It is painful, I hope it is superfluous, to make even the supposition,
that America should furnish the occasion of this opprobrium. No, let me
not even imagine, that a republican government, sprung, as our own is,
from a people enlightened and uncorrupted, a government whose origin is
right, and whose daily discipline is duty, can, upon solemn debate, make
its option to be faithless--can dare to act what despots dare not avow,
what our own example evinces, the states of Barbary are unsuspected of.
No, let me rather make the supposition, that Great Britain refuses to
execute the treaty, after we have done every thing to carry it into
effect. Is there any language of reproach pungent enough to express your
commentary on the fact? What would you say, or rather what would you not
say? Would you not tell them, wherever an Englishman might travel, shame
would stick to him--he would disown his country. You would exclaim,
England, proud of your wealth, and arrogant in the possession of
power--blush for these distinctions, which become the vehicles of your
dishonor. Such a nation might truly say to corruption, thou art my
father, and to the worm, thou art my mother and my sister. We should say
of such a race of men, their name is a heavier burden than their debt.
The refusal of the posts (inevitable if we reject the treaty) is a
measure too decisive in its nature to be neutral in its consequences.
From great causes we are to look for great effects. A plain and obvious
one will be, the price of the Western lands will fall. Settlers will not
choose to fix their habitation on a field of battle. Those who talk so
much of the interest of the United States, should calculate how deeply
it will be affected by rejecting the treaty; how vast a tract of wild
land will almost cease to be property. This loss, let it be observed,
will fall upon a fund expressly devoted to sink the national debt. What
then are we called upon to do? However the form of the vote and the
protestations of many may disguise the proceeding, our resolution is in
substance, and it deserves to wear the title of a resolution to prevent
the sale of the Western lands and the discharge of the public debt.
Will the tendency to Indian hostilities be contested by any one?
Experience gives the answer. The frontiers were scourged with war till
the negotiation with Great Britain was far advanced, and then the state
of hostility ceased. Perhaps the public agents of both nations are
innocent of fomenting the Indian war, and perhaps they are not. We ought
not, however, to expect that neighboring nations, highly irritated
against each other, will neglect the friendship of the savages; the
traders will gain an influence and will abuse it; and who is ignorant
that their passions are easily raised, and hardly restrained from
violence? Their situation will oblige them to choose between this
country and Great Britain, in case the treaty should be rejected. They
will not be our friends, and at the same time the friends of our
enemies.
But am I reduced to the necesity of proving this point? Certainly the
very men who charged the Indian war on the detention of the posts, will
call for no other proof than the recital of their own speeches. It is
remembered with what emphasis, with what acrimony, they expatiated on
the burden of taxes, and the drain of blood and treasure into the
Western country, in consequence of Britain's holding the posts. Until
the posts are restored, they exclaimed, the treasury and the frontiers
must bleed.
If any, against all these proofs, should maintain that the peace with
the Indians will be stable without the posts, to them I urge another
reply. From arguments calculated to produce conviction, I will appeal
directly to the hearts of those who hear me, and ask, whether it is not
already planted there? I resort especially to the convictions of the
Western gentlemen, whether supposing no posts and no treaty, the
settlers will remain in security? Can they take it upon them to say,
that an Indian peace, under these circumstances, will prove firm? No,
sir, it will not be peace, but a sword; it will be no better than a lure
to draw victims within the reach of the tomahawk.
On this theme my emotions are unutterable. If I could find words for
them, if my powers bore any proportion to my zeal, I would swell my
voice to such a note of remonstrance, it should reach every log-house
beyond the mountains. I would say to the inhabitants, wake from your
false security; your cruel dangers, your more cruel apprehensions are
soon to be renewed; the wounds, yet unhealed, are to be torn open again;
in the daytime, your path through the woods will be ambushed; the
darkness of midnight will glitter with the blaze of your dwellings. You
are a father--the blood of your sons shall fatten your cornfield; you
are a mother--the war-whoop shall wake the sleep of the cradle.
On this subject you need not suspect any deception on your feelings. It
is a spectacle of horror, which cannot be overdrawn. If you have nature
in your hearts, it will speak a language, compared with which all I have
said or can say will be poor and frigid.
Will it be whispered that the treaty has made me a new champion for the
protection of the frontiers? It is known that my voice as well as vote
have been uniformly given in conformity with the ideas I have expressed.
Protection is the right of the frontiers; it is our duty to give it.
Who will accuse me of wandering out of the subject? Who will say that I
exaggerate the tendencies of our measures? Will any one answer by a
sneer, that all this is idle preaching? Will any one deny, that we are
bound, and I would hope to good purpose, by the most solemn sanctions of
duty for the vote we give? Are despots alone to be reproached for
unfeeling indifference to the tears and blood of their subjects? Have
the principles on which you ground the reproach upon cabinets and kings
no practical influence, no binding force? Are they merely themes of idle
declamation introduced to decorate the morality of a newspaper essay, or
to furnish petty topics of harangue from the windows of that
state-house? I trust it is neither too presumptuous nor too late to ask.
Can you put the dearest interest of society at risk without guilt and
without remorse.
It is vain to offer as an excuse, that public men are not to be
reproached for the evils that may happen to ensue from their measures.
This is very true where they are unforeseen or inevitable. Those I have
depicted are not unforeseen; they are so far from inevitable, we are
going to bring them into being by our vote. We choose the consequences,
and become as justly answerable for them as for the measures that we
know will produce them.
By rejecting the posts we light the savage fires--we bind the victims.
This day we undertake to render account to the widows and orphans whom
our decision will make, to the wretches that will be roasted at the
stake, to our country, and I do not deem it too serious to say, to
conscience and to God. We are answerable, and if duty be any thing more
than a word of imposture, if conscience be not a bug-bear, we are
preparing to make ourselves as wretched as our country.