MR. BUCHANAN'S ADMINISTRATION.

Mr. Buchanan came into power with the prestige of experience; he was

known to have been long in public life; he had been a senator, a

secretary, a diplomatist, and almost everything else which is supposed

to fit a man for the practical conduct of affairs.

This presumed fitness for office greatly assisted his chances in the

Presidential campaign; and it assisted him especially with those timid

and conservative minds, of which there are many, apt to conceive that a

familiarity with the business and details of government is the same as

statesmanship, and to confound the skill and facility acquired by mere

routine with a genuine ability in execution. Had these men, however,

looked more closely into Mr. Buchanan's official career, they would have

found causes for suspecting the validity of their judgment, in the very

length and variety of his services. They would have discovered, that,

long as these had been and various as they had been, they were quite

undistinguished by any peculiar evidences of capacity or aptitude.

He had been, senator, secretary, and diplomatist, it is true; but in no

one of these positions had he achieved any remarkable successes. The

occasion could not be indicated on which he had risen above the average

level of respectability as a public man. There were no salient points in

his course,--no splendid developments of mastery,--no great reports, or

speeches, or measures, to cause him to be remembered,--and no leading

thoughts or acts, to awaken a high and general feeling of admiration on

the part of his countrymen. He was never such a senator as Webster

was, nor such a secretary as Clay, nor such a diplomatist as Marey.

Throughout his protracted official existence, he followed in the wake

of his party submissively, doing its appointed work with patience, and

vindicating its declared policy with skill, but never emerging as a

distinct and prominent figure. He never exhibited any peculiar largeness

of mind or loftiness of character; and though he spoke well and wrote

well, and played the part of a cool and wary manager, he was scarcely

considered a commanding spirit among his fellows. Amid that array of

luminaries, indeed, which adorned the Senate, where his chief reputation

was made,--among such men as Calhoun, Clay, Webster, Benton, and

Wright,--he shone with a diminished lustre.

Now, forty years of action, in the most conspicuous spheres,

unillustrated by a single incident which mankind has, or will have,

reason to cite and applaud, were not astonishing evidence of fitness for

the chief magistracy; and the event has shown, that Mr. Buchanan was to

be regarded as an old politician rather than a practised statesman, that

the most serviceable soldier in the ranks may prove to be an indifferent

general in command,--and that the experience, for which he was vaunted

and trusted, was not that ripening discipline of the mind and heart,

-------"which doth attain

To something of prophetic strain,"--

but that other unlearning use and wont, which

----"chews on wisdom past,

And totters on in blunders to the last."

His administration has been a series of blunders, and worse; it

has evinced no mastery; on the other hand, it may be arraigned for

inconsistencies the most palpable, for proceedings the most awkward, for

a general impotence which places it on a level with that of Tyler or

Pierce, and for signal offences against the national sense of decorum

and duty.

It is scarcely a year since Mr. Buchanan assumed the reins at

Washington. He assumed them under circumstances by which he and his

party and the whole country had been taught a great lesson of

political duty. The infamous mismanagement of Kansas, by his immediate

predecessor, had just shattered the most powerful of our party

organizations, and caused a mighty uprising of the masses of the North

in defence of menaced freedom. His election was carried amid the

extremest hazards, and with the utmost difficulty. Two months more of

such ardent debate and such popular enlightenment as were then going

forward would have resulted in his defeat. As it was, nearly every

Northern State--no matter how firm its previous adherence to the

Democratic party--was aroused to a strenuous opposition. Nearly every

Northern State pronounced by a stupendous majority against him and

against his cause. Nothing but a systematic disguise of the true

questions at issue by his own party, and a gratuitous complication of

the canvass by means of a foolish third party, saved his followers from

the most complete and shameful rout that had been given for many years

to any political array. Men of every class, of every shade of faith,

joined in that hearty protest against the spirit which animated the

Democratic administration, and joined in it, that they might utter the

severest rebuke in their power, of its meanness and perfidy.

Mr. Buchanan ought to have read the warning which was thus blazed across

the political skies, like the hand-writing upon the wall. He ought to

have discerned in this general movement the signs of a deep, earnest,

and irrepressible conviction on the part of the North. It is no slight

cause which can start such general and enthusiastic expressions of

popular feeling; they cannot be manufactured; they are not the work of

mere party excitement; there is nothing spurious and nothing hollow in

them; but they well up from the deep heart of nations, showing that a

chord of sympathy has been touched, with which it is fatal to tamper or

to sport. Call it fanaticism, if you will; call it delusion; call it

anything; but recollect also that it is out of such feelings that

revolutions are born, and by them that awful national crises are

determined.

But Mr. Buchanan has not profited, as we shall see, by the monition. His

initial act, the choice of a cabinet, in which the only man of national

reputation was superannuated, and the others were of little note, gave

small hope that he would do so; and his subsequent mistakes might have

been augured from the calibre of the counsellors by whom he chose to

be surrounded.--But let the men pass, since our object is to discuss

measures.

The questions with which the President and his cabinet have had to deal,

without following them in the order either of time or importance, may

be classified as the Mormon question, the Financial question, the

Filibuster question, and the Kansas question. All these required, for

a proper adjustment of them, firmness rather than ability,--a clear

perception of the principles of right, rather than abstruse policy,--and

vigor of execution, rather than profound diplomatic skill. Yet we do not

perceive that our government has displayed, in regard to the treatment

of any of these questions, either firmness or ability. It has employed

policy enough and diplomacy enough, but the policy has been incoherent

and the diplomacy shallow. At the end of the first year of its rule, the

most striking result of its general management is the open defection of

many of its most powerful friends, and the increased earnestness and

energy of all its foes.

The difficulty with the Mormons originated, before the accession of the

present administration, in a hasty and improper extension of the Federal

authority over a people whose customs and religious opinions were

utterly incompatible with those of our own people. The inhabitants of

Utah were averse from the outset to the kind of government provided for

them at Washington. Having adopted a form of society more like that of

Congo and Dahomey than of the United States, and having accepted too

literally the prevalent dogma, that every community has the right to

form its own institutions for itself,--they preferred the polygamy

of barbarism to the monogamy of civilization, and the rod of the

priest-prophet Brigham or the seal of Elder Pratt to the sceptre

of Governor Steptoe or the sword of Colonel Johnston. Under these

circumstances, the duty of the government of the United States was to

relinquish its pretensions to supremacy over a nation opposed to its

rule, or to maintain that supremacy, if it were necessary, with a strong

and unflinching hand. Mr. Buchanan, on his own principles of popular

sovereignty, as far as we can understand them, ought, logically, to have

adopted the former course, but (as the interests of Slavery were not

involved) he elected to pursue the latter; and he has pursued it with an

impotence which has cost the nation already many millions of

dollars, and which has involved the "army of Utah" in inextricable

embarrassments, allowing them to be shut up in the snows of the

mountains before they could strike a blow or reach the first object of

their expedition. Not very well appointed in the beginning, this little

force was despatched to the Plains when it was too late in the season; a

part of it was needlessly delayed in assisting to choke down freedom in

Kansas; and when it attained the hills which guard the passages to the

valley of the Salt Lake, it found the canons obstructed by snow, and

the roads impassable. The supplies required for its subsistence were

scattered in useless profusion from Leavenworth to Fort Laramie, and

assistance and action were alike hopeless until the arrival of the

spring.[A]

[Footnote: A: More recently the energy and wisdom of Col. Johnston

have repaired some of the mischief produced by the dilatoriness of his

superiors.]

The same feebleness, which left the poor soldier to perish in the

desert, has brought an overflowing treasury nearly to default. Mr.

Buchanan, in his Message, discussed the existing financial crisis with

much sounding phrase and very decided emphasis. He rebuked the action of

the banks, which had presumed to issue notes to the amount of more than

three times that of their specie, in a tone of lofty and indignant

virtue. He commended them to the strictest vigilance and to the

exemplary discipline of the State legislatures, while descanting at

large upon the safety, the economy, the beauty, and the glory of a sound

hard-money currency. When he entered upon his office, he found the

Treasury replete with eagles and dimes; it was so flush, that, in the

joy of his heart, he ordered the debts of the United States to be

redeemed at a premium of sixteen _per cent_.; and he and his followers

were disposed to jubilate over the singular spectacle, that, while all

other institutions were failing, the Treasury of the United States was

firm and resplendent in its large possession of gold. It was deemed a

rare wisdom and success, indeed, which could utter a note of triumph in

the midst of so universal a cry of despair; it was deemed a rare piece

of liberality, that the government should come to the aid of society in

an hour of such dark distress. The stocks of the United States, which

had been originally sold at a small advance, were bought back on a very

large advance; the usurers and the stock-jobbers received sixteen _per

cent_. for what they had bought at a premium of but two or three _per

cent_.; and an unparalleled glory shone around the easy vomitories of

the Treasury. The foresight and the sagacity of the proceeding were

marvellous! In less than a quarter by the moon, the coffers of the

government were empty,--the very clerks in its employ went about the

streets borrowing money to pay their board-bills,--and the grand-master

of the vaults, Mr. Cobb, counting his fingers in despair over the vacant

prospect, was compelled, in the extremity of his distress, to fill

his limp sacks with paper. Of the nineteen millions of gold which in

September distended the public purse, little or nothing remained in

December, while in its place were paper bills,--founded, not upon a

basis of one-third specie, but upon a basis of--_We promise to pay_! It

was a sad application of the high-sounding doctrines of the Message,--a

dreadful descent for a pure hard-money government,--and a lamentable

conversion of the pompous swagger of October into the shivering collapse

of January!

It may be said, that, by this pre-purchase of its own stocks, running at

an interest of six _per cent_., the government has saved the amount of

interest which would else have accrued between the time of the purchase

and the time of ultimate redemption. And this is true to some

extent,--and it would show an admirable economy, if the Treasury had had

no other use for its money. A government, like an individual, having a

large balance of superfluous cash on hand, can do no better with it than

to pay off its debts; but to do this, when there was every prospect of a

Mormon war to raise the expenditure, little prospect of retrenchment

in any branch of service, and a daily diminishing revenue at all

points,--it was purely a piece of folly, a want of ordinary forecast, to

get rid of the cash in hand. Mr. Buchanan and Mr. Cobb were guilty of

this folly, and, for the sake of the poor _éclat_ of coming to the

relief of the money-market, (which was no great relief, after all,) they

sacrificed the hard-money pretensions of the government, and sunk its

character to the level of that of the needy "kiteflier" in Wall Street.

Their true course, in the existing condition and aspect of affairs, was

to retain their capital, and to institute a most rigid economy, a most

searching reduction, in every branch of the public service. We have,

however, yet to learn whether any such economy and reduction have been

effected.

All this was simply weakness; but in turning from the conduct of

the Finances by the administration, to consider its management of

Filibusterism, we pass from the consideration of acts of mere debility

to the consideration of acts which have a color of duplicity in them.

On the Filibusters, as on the Finances, the First Annual Message of the

President was outspoken and forcible. It characterized the past and

proposed doings of William Walker and his crew, as the common sense

and common conscience of the world had already characterised them, as

nothing short of piracy and murder. Recognizing the obligations of

fraternity and peace as the rule of right in international relations, it

pledged the utmost vigilance and energy of the Federal powers against

every semblance of freebootery. In pursuance of this promise, orders

were issued to the various civil and naval authorities, (orders not very

clear, it is true, but clear enough to bear but one meaning in honest

and simple minds,) to the effect that they should maintain a sharp

watch, and execute a summary arrest of every person suspected of or

discovered in unlawful enterprises. The authorities on land, to whom it

was easy to hold secret communication with Washington, were found to

have very blind eyes and very slippery hands. General Walker and his

confederates were taken at New Orleans, but they passed through

the courts far more rapidly than goods are apt to pass through the

custom-houses. Under a merely nominal recognizance, he sailed away with

flying colors, and amid the plaudits of an admiring crowd, among whom,

it is to be presumed, the authorities took care to be only not too

conspicuous.

But the authorities on the sea, who could not so readily get a cue from

Wellington, with the directness, in construing orders, which is the

habit of the military mind, took their instructions at the word.

Commanded to intercept all marauders and pirates, they kept a look-out

for Walker. He eluded the guns of Captain Chatard, but Commodore

Paulding seized him in the very act of invading a friendly soil.

Hoisting him on board of a war-ship, he returned him in pressing haste

to the President. Commodore Paulding, who had read the Message, and read

the instructions of Secretary Cass, doubtless supposed that black meant

black, and white, white. Perhaps, also, in the unsophisticated pride

with which he contemplated the promptitude and decision of his action,

in saving an innocent people from a sanguinary ruffian, and in

maintaining the honor of his country unsullied, dim visions crossed his

mind of a letter of thanks from the President, and of the vote of a

sword by Congress. Alas for such hopes! Commodore Paulding was clearly

not a politician; he did not know that black meant white and white meant

black,--nor that the present of a filibuster, which he sent to the

President, was the present of something worse than an elephant. It

was the present of a herd of elephants,--of a sea of troubles. Mr.

Buchanan's fine denunciations of freebooters had only been fine words

for the public ear; secretly he cherished a _penchant_ for freebooters,

or rather for the friends of freebooters; and, under those

circumstances, to be presented, by his own agent, with the very chief

of the freebooters, as a criminal and a scamp, was the most unheard-of

simplicity of understanding, and the most astounding literalness of

obedience, in any subordinate. What to do was the question. He had

menaced Chatard with a cashiering for allowing Walker to escape; and

here was Paulding, who did not allow him to escape,--so he menaced

Paulding likewise; and by way of capping the climax of absurdities, he

set Walker himself at large, to go about the country clamoring to be

sent back, at the expense of the government, to the scenes of his late

innocent occupations and virtuous designs, whence he had been ruthlessly

torn by an over-officious sailor.

The history of the farce is both argument and comment. Walker was either

a citizen of the United States, levying war upon a friendly foreign

state, and as such amenable to the penalties of our neutrality laws,--or

he was a citizen of Nicaragua, as he pretended to be, abusing our

protection to organize warlike enterprises against his fellow-citizens,

and as such also amenable to our neutrality laws. In either capacity,

and however taken, he should have been severely dealt with by the

President. But, unfortunately, Mr. Buchanan, not left to his own

instincts of right, is surrounded by assistants who have other than

great public motives for their conduct. Walker's schemes were not

individual schemes, were not simple projects of piracy and plunder,

got up on his own responsibility and for his own ends. Connected with

important collateral issues, they received the sympathy and support of

others more potent than himself. He was, in a word, the instrument

of the propagandist slave-holders, the fear of whom is ever before a

President's eyes. As the old barbarian Arbogastes used to say to the

later Roman emperors, whom he helped to elevate, "The power which made

you is the power which can break you," so these modern masters of the

throne dictate and guide its policy. Mr. Buchanan was their man as much

as Walker was, and, however grand his speeches before the public, he

must do their bidding when things came to the trial.

But this allusion brings us, by an obvious transition, to the last and

most important question submitted to the administration,--the question

of Kansas,--in the management of which, we think, it will be found that

all the before-noted deficiencies of the government have been combined

with a criminal disregard of settled principles and almost universal

convictions. In reference to Kansas, as in reference to the other

topics, the President began with fair and seductive promises. He did

not, it is true, either in his Message or anywhere else, that we know

of, narrate the actual history of the long contest which has divided

that Territory, but he did hold up for the future the brightest hopes

of an honest and equitable adjustment of all the past difficulties. He

selected and commissioned Robert J. Walker, as Governor, for the express

purpose of "pacifying Kansas." Pretending to overlook the past causes

of trouble, he announced that everything would now be set right by new

elections, in which the whole people should have full opportunity

of declaring their will. Mr. Walker went to Kansas with a full

determination to carry out this amiable promise of the President. Both

he and his secretary, Mr. Stanton, labored strenuously to convince

the people of the Territory of his honest purposes, and, by dint of

persuasions, pledges, assurances, and oaths, at length succeeded in

procuring a pretty general exercise of the franchise. The result was a

signal overthrow of the minority which had so long ruled by fraud and

violence; and the sincerity of the President is tested by the fact,

avouched by both Walker and Stanton, that, from the moment of the

success of the Free-State party, he was wroth towards his servants.

Stanton was removed and Walker compelled to resign, though their only

offence was a laborious prosecution of the President's own policy. Ever

since then, he has strained every nerve, and at this moment is straining

every nerve, to defeat the well-known legally demonstrated wish of the

majority. In the face of his own plighted word, and of the emphatic

assurances of his agents, sanctioned by himself, he insists upon

imposing on them officers whom they detest and an instrument of

government which they spurn. These people of Kansas,--who were to

be "pacified,"--to be conciliated,--to be guarantied a just

administration,--are denounced in the most virulent and abusive terms as

refractory, and are threatened with the coercion of a military force,

because they are unwilling to submit to outrage!

The excuse offered by the President for this perfidious course is

the Lecompton Constitution, which he professes to consider a legal

instrument, framed by a legal Convention, and approved by a legal

election of the people,--and which is therefore not to be set aside

except by the same sovereign power by which it was created. It would be

a good excuse, if it were not a transparent and monstrous quibble from

beginning to end. The Lecompton Constitution has no one element of

legality in it; from the _Whereas_, to the signatures, it is an

imposture;--for neither had the Legislature, that called the Convention

in which it was made, lawful authority to do so,--nor was that

Convention lawfully constituted,--nor was the alleged adoption of it by

the people more than a trick.

A Territory is an inchoate and dependent community, which can be erected

into a State only in two ways: first, formally, by an enabling act of

Congress, giving permission to the inhabitants to set up for themselves;

and second, informally, by a spontaneous and general movement of the

people, which Congress must afterwards legitimate. In either case, the

consent of Congress, first or last, is necessary to the validity of the

proceeding. But a Territorial Legislature, which is the mere creature of

Congress, having no powers but what are strictly conveyed to it in the

Organic Act instituting the Territorial government, cannot originate

a movement to supersede itself, and also to abrogate the authority

of Congress. The attempt to do so, as declared by General Jackson's

cabinet, in the case of Arkansas, would be, not simply null and void,

but unlawful, rebellious; and the President would be obliged to suppress

it, if called upon, by force of arms. The Organic Act is the supreme law

of the Territory, which can be altered or revoked only by the authority

from which it emanated; and every measure commenced or prosecuted with a

design to annul that law, to subvert the Territorial government, or

to put in force in its place a new government, without the consent of

Congress, is a flagrant usurpation.

Now the Lecompton Convention was called not merely without the consent

of Congress, but against its consent; it was called by and under the

arrangements of the Territorial Legislature; it was not the spontaneous

act of the people, a large majority of whom condemned the movement

and refused to participate in it; and thus, in its inception, it was

unlawful. It was neither regularly nor irregularly proper;--the supreme

legislature had not acknowledged it; the masses of society had not

acknowledged it; and the entire project possessed no other character

than that of a factious scheme for perpetuating the power of a few

pro-slavery demagogues.

But, if we grant the right of the Territorial Legislature to originate

such a movement, the manner in which it was carried into effect would

still brand it with the marks of illegality. A census and registry of

voters had been provided for in the law authorizing the Convention, as

the basis of an apportionment of the delegates, and that provision was

not complied with. In nineteen out of the thirty-eight counties no

registry was made, and in the others it was imperfectly made. "In some

of the counties," according to the evidence of Mr. Stanton, then acting

Governor, "the officers were probably deterred and discouraged by the

people from their duty of taking the census," (although he adds that he

does not know that such was the fact,) "while in others the officers

utterly refused to do their duty." "I know," he says, "that the people

of some of those counties ardently desired to be represented in the

Convention, for they afterwards, under the statements of Governor Walker

and myself, that they would probably be admitted, elected delegates and

sent them up to the Convention; but they were not admitted to seats."

In consequence of this failure or refusal to do their duty, only

the geographical half or the numerical fourth of the Territory was

represented in the Convention. Nor is it any excuse for the defaulting

officers, even if it had been true, that some of the people opposed the

execution of their duty. They professed to be acting under law; their

functions were plainly prescribed to them; and they were bound to make

the census and registry, whatever the disposition of the people. In a

land of laws, it is the law, and not any mere prevailing sentiment,

which prescribes and limits official duty. There is, however, no

evidence that the discharge of their task was rendered impossible by the

popular opposition, while there is evidence that they were very willing

to neglect it, and very willing to allow any obstacle, no matter how

trivial, to obstruct their performance of it. They were, in truth, as

everybody knows, the simple tools of the faction which started this

Convention movement, and not at all desirous to secure a fair and

adequate representation of the inhabitants.

That many of the people should be careless of the registration, and even

unfriendly to it, is natural, because they disapproved the plan, and

were hostile to the ends of the Convention. They doubted the authority

by which it had been summoned; they doubted both the validity and the

probable fairness of an election under such authority; and, moreover,

they were indifferent as to its proceedings, because they had been

assured that they would be called upon to pronounce _pro_ or _con_ upon

its results. The Convention, as actually constituted when assembled,

consisted of sixty delegates, representing about 1,800 voters, in an

electoral body of 12,000 in all,--or one delegate to thirty voters! A

convention so composed ought to have been ashamed of the very pretence

of acting in the name of the whole people. It would have been ashamed of

it, if it had contained men sincerely anxious to reflect the will of the

great body of the citizens. It would have been as much ashamed of it,

as any honest man would be to pass himself off as the agent of a person

whom he had never known, or who openly derided and despised him. But

this precious body--each man of whom represented thirty men besides

himself, in a voting population of 12,000--was not sensible to such

considerations. By a miserable chicane, it had got into a position to do

mischief, and it proceeded to do it, with as much alacrity and headlong

zeal as rogues are apt to exhibit when the prize is great and the

opportunity short. An election for the Legislature, held subsequently to

that for the Convention, showing a public opinion decidedly adverse to

it, the sole study of its members thenceforth seemed to be, how they

could most adroitly and effectively nullify the ascendency of the

majority. For this end alone they consulted, and caballed, and

calculated, and junketed; and the Lecompton Constitution, with the

Schedule annexed, was the worthy fruit of their labors.

It is monstrous in Mr. Buchanan to assume that a body so contrived and

so acting expressed in any sense the sovereign will of the people. But,

not to dwell upon this point, let us suppose that the Convention had

been summoned by a competent authority, that it had been fairly chosen

by its small constituency, and that its proceedings had been managed

with ordinary decorum,--would the Constitution it framed be valid, in

the face of a clear popular condemnation? We hold that it would not,

because, in our estimation, and in the estimation of every intelligent

American, the very essence of republicanism is "the consent of the

governed." It is the highest function of political sovereignty to devise

and ordain the organic law of society, the vital form of its being; and

the characteristic difference between the despotic or oligarchical and

the republican government is, that in the one case the function is

exercised by a monarch or a class, and in the other by the body of the

citizens. This distinctive feature of our politics, as opposed to

all others, regards the will of the people, directly or indirectly

expressed, as alone giving validity to law; our National Constitution,

and every one of our thirty-one State Constitutions, proceeds upon

that principle; every act of legislation in the Congress and the State

Assemblies supposes it; and every decision of every Court has that for

its basis. Constitutions have been adopted, undoubtedly, without a

distinct submission of them to the ratification of the people; but in

such cases there has been no serious agitation of the public mind, no

important conflict or division of opinion, rendering such ratification

necessary,--and, in the absence of dispute, the general assent of the

community to the action of its delegates might fairly be presumed. But

in no case, in which great and debatable questions were involved, has

any Convention dared to close its labors without providing for their

reference to the popular sanction; much less has there been any instance

in which a Convention has dared to make its own work final, in the

face of a known or apprehended repugnance of the constituency. The

politicians who should have proposed such a thing would have been

overwhelmed with unmeasured indignation and scorn. No sentiment more

livingly pervades our national mind, no sentiment is juster in itself,

than that they who are to live under the laws ought to decide on the

character of the laws,--that they whose persons, property, welfare,

happiness, life, are to be controlled by a Constitution of Government,

ought to participate in the formation of that government.

Conscious of this truth, and of its profound hold on the popular heart,

Mr. Buchanan instructed Governor Walker to see the Kansas Constitution

submitted to the people,--to protect them against fraud and violence in

voting upon it,--and to proclaim, in the event of any interference with

their rights, that the Constitution "would be and ought to be rejected

by Congress." Walker was voluble in proclamations to that end. The

trainers of the Constitution, aware of its invalidity without the

sanction of the people, provided for its submission to "approval"

or "disapproval," to "ratification" or "rejection"; and yet, by the

paltriest juggle in recorded history, devised, in the same breath, a

method of taking the vote, which completely nullified its own terms.

No man was allowed to "disapprove" it, no man was allowed to "reject"

it,--except in regard to a single section,--and before he could vote for

or against that, he was obliged to vote in favor of all the rest. If

there had been a hundred thousand voters in the Territory opposed to

the Constitution, and but one voter in its favor, the hundred thousand

voters could not have voted upon it at all, but the one voter

could,--and the vote of that one would have been construed into a

popular approval, while the will of all the others would have been

practically void. By this pitiful stratagem, it was supposed, the

double exigency of Mr. Buchanan's often repeated sentiments, and of

the pro-slavery cause, which dreaded a popular vote, was completely

satisfied; and the President of the United States, reckless of his

position and his fame, lent himself to the shameless and despicable

palter. He not only lent himself to it, but he has openly argued its

propriety, and is now making the adherence of his friends to such

baseness the test of their party fidelity. In the name of Democracy,--of

that sacred and sublime principle into which we, as a nation, have been

baptized,--which declares the inalienable rights of man,--and which,

as it makes the tour of the earth, hand and hand with Christianity, is

lifting the many from the dust, where for ages they have been trampled,

into political life and dignity,--he converts a paltry swindle into its

standard and creed, and prostitutes its glorious mission, as a redeeming

influence among men, into a ministry of slavery and outrage.

Mr. Buchanan knows--we believe better than any man in the country--that

the Lecompton Constitution is not the act of the people of Kansas. By

the election of the 4th of January--an election which was perfectly

valid, because it was held under the authority of a Territorial

Legislature superior to the Convention--it was solemnly and

unequivocally condemned. This of itself was enough to demonstrate that

fact. But all the Democratic Governors of the Territory--with the single

exception of Shannon, and the recently appointed acting Governor,

Denver, who is prudently silent--testify urgently to the same truth.

Reeder, Geary, and Walker, together with the late acting Governor,

Stanton, asseverate, in the most earnest and emphatic manner, that the

majority in Kansas is for making it a Free State,--that the minority

which has ruled is a factious minority, and that they have obtained and

perpetuated their ascendency by a most unblushing series of crimes and

frauds. Yet, in the teeth of this evidence,--of repeated elections,--of

his own witnesses turning against him,--the President adheres to the

infamous plans of the pro-slavery leaders; and, if not arrested by the

rebukes of the North, he will insist on imposing their odious measures

upon their long-suffering victims.

Looking at the administration of Mr. Buchanan simply from the point of

view of an enlightened statesmanship, we find nothing in it that is not

contemptible; but when we regard it as the accredited exponent of the

moral sense of a majority of our people, it is saved from contempt,

indeed, but saved only because contempt is merged in a deeper feeling

of humiliation and apprehension. Unparalleled as the outrages in Kansas

have been, we regard them as insignificant in comparison with the

deadlier fact that the Chief Magistrate of the Republic should strive to

defend them by the small wiles of a village attorney,--that, when the

honor of a nation and the principle of self-government are at stake, he

should show himself unconscious of a higher judicature or a nobler

style of pleading than those which would serve for a case of petty

larceny,--and that he should be abetted by more than half the national

representatives, while he brings down a case of public conscience to the

moral level of those who are content with the maculate safety which they

owe to a flaw in an indictment, or with the dingy innocence which is

certified to by the disagreement of a jury.

These things are the logical consequences of that profound national

demoralization which followed the enactment of the Fugitive Slave Bill

and alone made its execution possible,--a demoralization wilfully

brought about, for selfish ends, in that sad time which saw our greatest

advocates and our acutest politicians spending all their energy of mind

and subtlety of argument to persuade the people that there was no higher

law than that rule of custom and chicane woven of the split hairs of

immemorial sophistry, and whose strongest fibre is at the mercy of an

obstinate traverse juror,--no law higher than the decree of party,

ratified by a popular majority achieved by the waiters on Presidential

providence, through immigrant voters whom the gurgling oratory of

the whiskey-barrel is potent to convince, and whose sole notion of

jurisprudence is based upon experience of the comparative toughness

of Celtic skulls and blackthorn shillalahs. And such arguments were

listened to, such advocates commended for patriotism, in a land from

whose thirty thousand pulpits God and Christ are preached weekly to

hearers who profess belief in the Divine government of the world and the

irreversible verdicts of conscience!

The capacity of the English race for self-government is measured by

their regard as well for the forms as the essence of law. A race

conservative beyond all others of what is established, averse beyond all

others to the heroic remedy of forcible revolution, they have yet three

times in the space of a century and a half assumed the chances of

rebellion and the certain perils of civil war, rather than submit to

have Right infringed by Prerogative, and the scales of Justice made a

cheat by false weights that kept the shape but lacked the substance of

legitimate precedent. We are forced to think that there must be a bend

sinister in the escutcheon of the descendants of such men, when we find

them setting the form above the substance, and accepting as law that

which is deadly to the spirit while it is true to the letter of

legality. It is a spectacle portentous of moral lapse and social

disorganization, to see a statesman, who has had fifty years' experience

of American politics, quibbling in defence of Executive violence against

a free community, as if the conscience of the nation were no more august

a tribunal than a police justice sitting upon a paltry case of assault.

Yet more portentous is it to see a great people consenting that fraud

should be made national by the voice of a Congress in which the casting

vote may be bought by a tide-waitership, and then invested with the

solemnity of law by a Court whose members are selected, not for

uprightness of character or breadth of mind, but by the inverse test of

their capacity for cringing in subservience to party, and for narrowing

a judgment already slender as the line of personal interest, till it

becomes so threadlike as to bend at the touch, nay, at the breath, of

sectional rapacity. Have we, then, forgotten that the true prosperity of

a nation is moral, and not material? that its strength depends, not on

the width of its boundaries, nor the bulk of its census, but on its

magnanimity, its honor, its fidelity to conscience? There is a Fate

which spins and cuts the threads of national as of individual life, and

the case of God against the people of these United States is not to be

debated before any such petty tribunal as Mr. Buchanan and his advisers

seem to suppose. The sceptre which dropped successively from the grasp

of Egypt, Assyria, Carthage, Greece, Rome, fell from a hand palsied by

the moral degeneracy of the people; and the emasculate usurper or the

foreign barbarian snatched and squandered the heritage of civilization

which escheated for want of legitimate heirs of the old royal race,

whose divine right was the imperial brain, and who found their strength

in a national virtue which individualized itself in every citizen. The

wind that moans among the columns of the Parthenon, or rustles through

the weeds on the palaces of the Caesars, whimpers no truer prophecies

than that venal breath which, at a signal from the patron in the White

House, bends all one way the obsequious leaves of a partisan press,

ominous of popular decadence.

Do our leading politicians, and the prominent bankers and merchants who

sustain them, know what a dangerous lesson they are setting to a people

whose affairs are controlled by universal suffrage, when they affirm

that to be right which can by any false pretence be voted so? Does not

he who undermines national principle sap the foundations of individual

property also? If burglary may be committed on a commonwealth under

form of law, is there any logic that will protect a bank-vault or a

strong-box? When Mr. Buchanan, with a Jew broker at one elbow and a

Frenchman at the other, (strange representatives of American diplomacy!)

signed his name to the Ostend circular, was he not setting a

writing-lesson for American youth to copy, and one which the pirate hand

of Walker _did_ copy in ungainly letters of fire and blood in Nicaragua?

The vice of universal suffrage is the infinitesimal subdivision of

personal responsibility. The guilt of every national sin comes back to

the voter in a fraction the denominator of which is several millions.

It is idle to talk of the responsibility of officials to their

constituencies or to the people. The President of the United States,

during his four years of office, is less amenable to public opinion than

the Queen of England through her ministers; senators, with embassies in

prospect, laugh at instructions; representatives think they have made a

good bargain when they exchange the barren approval of constituencies

for the smile of one whom a lucky death, perhaps, has converted into

the Presidential Midas of the moment; and in a nation of adventurers,

success is too easily allowed to sanctify a speculation by which a man

sells his pitiful self for a better price than even a Jew could get for

the Saviour of the world. It cannot be too often repeated, that the only

responsibility which is of saving efficacy in a Democracy is that of

every individual man in it to his conscience and his God. As long

as any one of us holds the ballot in his hand, he is truly, what we

sometimes vaguely boast, a sovereign,--a constituent part of Destiny;

the infinite Future is his vassal; History holds her iron stylus as

his scribe; Lachesis awaits his word to close or to suspend her fatal

shears;--but the moment his vote is cast, he becomes the serf of

circumstance, at the mercy of the white-livered representative's

cowardice, or the venal one's itching palm. Our only safety, then, is

in the aggregate fidelity to personal rectitude, which may lessen the

chances of representative dishonesty, or, at the worst, constitute a

public opinion that shall make the whole country a penitentiary for

such treason, and turn the price of public honor to fairy-money, whose

withered leaves but mock the possessor with the futile memory of

self-degradation. Let every man remember, that, though he may be a

nothing in himself, yet every cipher gains the power of multiplying by

ten when it is placed on the _right side_ of whatever unit for the time

represents the cause of truth and justice. What we need is a thorough

awakening of the individual conscience; and if we once become aware how

the still and stealthy ashes of political apathy and moral insensibility

are slipping under our feet and hurrying us with them toward the

crater's irrevocable core, it may be that the effort of self-preservation

called forth by the danger will make us love the daring energy and the

dependence on our individual strength, that alone can keep us free and

worthy to be freemen.

While we hold the moral aspect of the great question now before the

country to be cardinal, there are also some practical ones which the

Republican party ought never to lose sight of. To move a people among

whom the Anglo-Saxon element is predominant, we will not say, with Lord

Bacon, that we must convince their pockets, but we do believe that moral

must always go hand in hand with common sense. They will take up arms

for a principle, but they must have confidence in each other and in

their leaders. Conscience is a good tutor to tell a man on which side to

act, but she leaves the question of _How to act_ to every man's prudence

and judgment. An over-nice conscience has before now turned the stomach

of a great cause on the eve of action. Cromwell knew when to split hairs

and when skulls. The North has too generally allowed its strength to be

divided by personal preferences and by-questions, till it has almost

seemed as if a moral principle had less constringent force to hold

its followers together than the gravitation of private interest, the

Newtonian law of that system whereof the dollar is the central sun,

which has hitherto made the owners of slaves unitary, and given them the

power which springs from concentration and the success which is sure

to follow concert of action. We have spent our strength in quarrelling

about the character of men, when we should have been watchful only of

the character of measures. A scruple of conscience has no right to

outweigh a pound of duty, though it ought to make a ton of private

interest kick the beam. The great aim of the Republican party should

be to gain one victory for the Free States. One victory will make us a

unit, and is equal to a reinforcement of fifty thousand men. The genius

of success in politics or war is to know Opportunity at first sight.

There is no mistress so easily tired as Fortune. We must waste no more

time in investigating the motives of our recruits. Have we not faith

enough in our cause to believe that it will lift all to its own level of

patriotism and devotion? Let us, then, welcome all allies, from whatever

quarter, and not inquire into their past history as minutely as if we

were the assignees of the Recording Angel and could search his books at

pleasure. When Soult was operating in the South of France, the defection

of two German regiments crippled all his combinations and gave the

advantage to Wellington. Ought Wellington to have refused their aid? For

our own part, if Mr. Douglas be the best tactician, the best master of

political combination, we are willing to forget all past differences and

serve under him cheerfully, rather than lose the battle under a general

who has agreed with us all his life. When we remember, that, of the two

great cathedrals of Europe, one is dedicated to Saint Peter who denied

his Lord under temptation, and the other to Saint Paul who spent his

early manhood in persecuting true believers, and that both these patrons

of the Church, differing as they did in many points of doctrine, were

united in martyrdom for their belief, we cannot but think that there is

room even for repentant renegades in the camp of the faithful.

While we insist that Morals should govern the _motives_ of political

action, and that no party can be permanently strong which has not the

reserve of a great principle behind it, we affirm with no less strength

of conviction that the details of our National Housekeeping should be

managed by practical sense and worldly forethought. The policy of states

moves along the beaten highways of experience, and, where terrestrial

guide-posts are plenty, we need not ask our way of the stars. The

advantage of our opponents has been that they have always had some sharp

practical measure, some definite and immediate object, to oppose to our

voluminous propositions of abstract right. Again and again the whirlwind

of oratorical enthusiasm has roused and heaped up the threatening masses

of the Free States, and again and again we have seen them collapse like

a water-spout, into a crumbling heap of disintegrated bubbles, before

the compact bullet of political audacity. While our legislatures have

been resolving and re-resolving the principles of the Declaration of

Independence, our adversaries have pushed their trenches, parallel after

parallel, against the very citadel of our political equality. A

siege, if uninterrupted, is a mere matter of time, and must end in

capitulation. Our only safety is in assuming the offensive. Are we to be

terrified any longer by such Chinese devices of warfare as the cry of

Disunion,--a threat as hollow as the mask from which it issues, as

harmless as the periodical suicides of Mantalini, as insincere as

the spoiled child's refusal of his supper? We have no desire for a

dissolution of our confederacy, though it is not for us to fear it. We

will not allow it; we will not permit the Southern half of our dominion

to become a Hayti. But there is no danger; the law that binds our system

of confederate stars together is of stronger fibre than to be snapped by

the trembling finger of Toombs or cut by the bloodless sword of Davis;

the march of the Universe is not to be stayed because some gentleman in

Buncombe declares that his sweet-potato-patch shall not go along with

it. But we have no apprehension. The sweet attraction which knits the

sons of Virginia to the Treasury has lost none of its controlling force.

We must make up our minds to keep these deep-descended gentlemen in the

Union, and must convince them that we have a work to accomplish in it

and by means of it. If our Southern brethren have the curse of Canaan in

their pious keeping, if the responsibility lie upon them to avenge the

insults of Noah, on us devolves a more comprehensive obligation and the

vindication of an elder doom;--it is for us to assert and to secure the

claim of every son of Adam to the common inheritance ratified by the

sentence, "In the sweat of thy brow shalt thou earn thy bread." We are

to establish no aristocracy of race or complexion, no caste which Nature

and Revelation alike refuse to recognize, but the indefeasible right of

man to the soil which he subdues, and the muscles with which he subdues

it. If this be a sectional creed, it is a sectionality which at least

includes three hundred and fifty-nine degrees of the circle of man's

political aspiration and physical activity, and we may well be easy

under the imputation.

But so rapid has been the downward course of our national politics under

the guidance of our oligarchical Democracy, that the question on which

we take issue, whatever it may once have been, is no longer a sectional

one, and concerns not the slavery of the negro, but that of the Northern

white man. Whatever doubt there may be about the physical degeneration

of the race, it is more than certain that the people of the Northern

States have no longer the moral stature of their illustrious ancestry;

that their puny souls could find room enough in but the gauntlet finger

of that armor of faith and constancy and self-devotion which fitted

closely to the limbs of those who laid so broad the foundations of our

polity as to make our recreancy possible and safe for us. It wellnigh

seems as if our type should suffer a slave-change,--as if the fair hair

and skin of those ancestral _non Angli sed angeli_ should crisp into

wool and darken to the swarthy livery of servility. No Northern man can

hold any office under the national government, however petty, without an

open recantation of those principles which he drew in with his mother's

milk,--those principles which, in the better days of the republic,

even a slaveholder could write down in the great charter of our

liberties,--those principles which now only the bells and cannon

are allowed to utter on the Fourth of July or the Seventeenth of

June,--bells that may next call out the citizen-soldiery to aid in the

rendition of a slave,--cannon whose brazen lips may next rebuke the

freedom whose praises they but yesterday so emptily thundered.

When we look back upon the providential series of events which prepared

this continent for the experiment of Democracy,--when we think of those

forefathers for whom our mother England shed down from her august

breasts the nutriment of ordered liberty, not unmixed with her best

blood in the day of her trial,--when we remember the first two acts of

our drama, that cost one king his head and his son a throne, and that

third which cost another the fairest appanage of his crown and gave a

new Hero to mankind,--we cannot believe it possible that this great

scene, stretching from ocean to ocean, was prepared by the Almighty

only for such men as Mr. Buchanan and his peers to show their feats of

juggling on, even though the thimble-rig be on so colossal a scale that

the stake is a territory larger than Britain. We cannot believe that

this unhistoried continent,--this virgin leaf in the great diary of

man's conquest over the planet, on which our fathers wrote two words of

epic grandeur,--Plymouth and Bunker Hill,--is to bear for its colophon

the record of men who inherited greatness and left it pusillanimity,--a

republic, and made it anarchy,--freedom, and were content as serfs,--of

men who, born to the noblest estate of grand ideas and fair expectancies

the world had ever seen, bequeathed the sordid price of them in gold.

The change is sad 'twixt Now and Then: the Great Republic is without

influence in the councils of the world; to be an American, in Europe, is

to be the accomplice of filibusters and slave-traders; instead of men

and thought, as was hoped of us, we send to the Old World cotton, corn,

and tobacco, and are but as one of her outlying farms. Are we basely

content with our pecuniary good-fortune? Do we look on the tall column

of figures on the credit side of our national ledger as a sufficing

monument of our glory as a people? Are we of the North better off as

provinces of the Slave-holding States than as colonies of Great Britain?

Are we content with our share in the administration of national affairs,

because we are to have the ministry to Austria, and because the

newspapers promise that James Gordon Bennett shall be sent out of the

country to fill it?

We of the Free States are confessedly without our fair share of

influence in the administration of national affairs. Its foreign and

domestic policy are both directed by principles often hostile to our

interests, sometimes abhorrent to our sense of right and honor. Under

loud professions of Democracy, the powers of the central government and

of the Executive have increased till they have scarcely a match among

the despotisms of Europe, and more than justify the prophetic fears of

practical statesmen like Samuel Adams and foresighted politicians like

Jefferson. Unquestionably superior in numbers, and claiming an equal

preeminence in wealth, intelligence, and civilization, we have steadily

lost in political power and in the consideration which springs from it.

Is the preponderance of the South due to any natural superiority of an

Aristocracy over a Democracy? to any mental inferiority, to lack of

courage, of political ability, of continuity of purpose, on our own

part? We should be slow to find the cause in reasons like these; but we

_do_ find it in that moral disintegration, the necessary result of that

falsehood to our own sense of right forced upon us by the slave-system,

and which, beginning with our public men, has gradually spread to the

Press, the Pulpit, nay, worse than all, the Home, till it is hard to

find a private conscience that is not tainted with the contagious mange.

For what have we not seen within the last few years? We have seen the

nomination to office made dependent, not on the candidate's being large

enough to fill, but small enough to take it. Holding the purity of

elections as a first article of our creed, we have seen one-third of

the population of a Territory control the other two-thirds by false or

illegal votes; hereditary foes of a standing army, we have seen four

thousand troops stationed in Kansas to make forged ballots good by real

bullets; lovers of fair play, we have seen a cowardly rabble from the

Slave States protected by Federal bayonets while they committed robbery,

arson, and Sepoy atrocities against women, and the Democratic party

forced to swallow this nauseous mixture of force, fraud, and Executive

usurpation, under the name of Popular Sovereignty. We have seen Freedom

pronounced sectional and Slavery national by the highest tribunal of the

republic. We have seen the legislatures of Southern States passing acts

for the renewal and encouragement of the slave-trade. We have seen the

attempted assassination of a senator in his seat justified and applauded

by public meetings and the resolutions of State Assemblies. We have

seen a pirate, for the hanging of whom the conscious Earth would have

produced a tree, had none before existed, threaten the successor of

Washington with the exposure of his complicity, if he did not publicly

violate the faith he had publicly pledged.--But enough, and more than

enough.

It lies in the hands of the people of the Free States to rescue

themselves and the country by peaceable reform, ere it be too late, and

there be no remedy left but that dangerous one of revolution, toward

which Mr. Buchanan and his advisers seem bent on driving them. But the

reform must be wide and deep, and its political objects must be attained

by household means. Our sense of private honor and integrity must be

quickened; our consciousness of responsibility to God and man for the

success of this experiment in practical Democracy, in order to which the

destiny of a hemisphere has been entrusted to us, must be roused and

exalted; we must learn to feel that the safety of universal suffrage

lies in the sensitiveness of the individual voter to every abuse of

delegated authority, every treachery to representative duty, as a

stain upon his own personal integrity; we must become convinced that

a government without conscience is the necessary result of a people

careless of their duties, and therefore unworthy of their rights.

Prosperity has deadened and bewildered us. It is time we remembered

that History does not concern herself about material wealth,--that the

life-blood of a nation is not that yellow tide which fluctuates in

the arteries of Trade,--that its true revenues are religion, justice,

sobriety, magnanimity, and the fair amenities of Art,--that it is only

by the soul that any people has achieved greatness and made lasting

conquests over the future. We believe there is virtue enough left in the

North and West to infuse health into our body politic; we believe that

America will reassume that moral influence among the nations which

she has allowed to fall into abeyance; and that our eagle, whose

morning-flight the world watched with hope and expectation, shall no

longer troop with unclean buzzards, but rouse himself and seek his eyrie

to brood new eaglets that in time shall share with him the lordship of

these Western heavens, and shall learn of him to shake the thunder from

their invincible wings.

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The Atlantic Monthly, Volume 01, No. 06, April, 1858 A Magazine of Literature, Art, and Politics · 第 89 / 90 题