grounds. It will not be questioned by any competent authority, that
Congress may, by express legislation, abolish slavery: first, in
the District of Columbia; secondly, in the Territories, if there
should be any; thirdly, that it may abolish the slave-trade on the
high seas between the States; fourthly, that it may refuse to admit
new States with a constitution sanctioning slavery. Nor can it be
questioned that the people of the United States may, in the manner
pointed out by the Constitution, proceed to its amendment. It is,
then, by constitutional legislation, and even by amendment of the
Constitution, that slavery may be reached.
Here the question arises, Is there any _compromise_ in the
Constitution of such a character as to prevent action? This word
is invoked by many honest minds as the excuse for not joining in
this cause. Let me meet this question frankly and fairly. The
Constitution, it is said, was the result of compromise between the
Free States and the Slave States, which good faith will not allow
us to break. To this it may be replied, that the Slave States, by
their many violations of the Constitution, have already overturned
all the original compromises, if any there were of perpetual
character. But I do not content myself with this answer. I wish
to say, distinctly, that there is no compromise on slavery not to
be reached _legally and constitutionally_, which is the only way
in which I propose to reach it. Wherever powers and jurisdiction
are secured to Congress, they may unquestionably be exercised in
conformity with the Constitution; even in matters beyond existing
powers and jurisdiction there is a constitutional method of action.
The Constitution contains an article pointing out how, at any time,
amendments may be made. This is an important element, giving to
the Constitution a _progressive_ character, and allowing it to be
moulded according to new exigencies and conditions of feeling.
The wise framers of this instrument did not treat the country as a
Chinese foot,--never to grow after its infancy,--but anticipated
the changes incident to its advance. "_Provided_, that no amendment
which may be made prior to the year one thousand eight hundred
and eight shall in any manner affect the first and fourth clauses
in the ninth section of the first article, and that no State,
without its consent, shall be deprived of its equal suffrage in the
Senate." These are the words of the Constitution. They expressly
designate what shall be sacred from amendment,--what compromise
shall be perpetual,--and so doing, according to a familiar rule
of law and of logic, virtually declare that the remainder of the
Constitution may be amended. Already, since its adoption, twelve
amendments have been made, and every year produces new projects.
There has been a pressure on the floor of Congress to abrogate the
veto, and also to limit the tenure of the Presidential office.
Let it be distinctly understood, then,--and this is my answer to
the pretension of binding compromise,--that, in conferring upon
Congress certain specified powers and jurisdiction, and also in
providing for the amendment of the Constitution, its framers
expressly established the means for setting aside what are vaguely
called compromises of the Constitution. They openly declare,
"Legislate as you please, in conformity with the Constitution;
and even make amendments rendered proper by change of opinion or
circumstances, following always the manner prescribed."
Nor can we dishonor the revered authors of the Constitution by
supposing that they set their hands to it, believing that under
it slavery was to be _perpetual_,--that the Republic, which they
had reared to its giant stature, snatched from heaven the sacred
fire of Freedom, only to be bound, like another Prometheus, in
adamantine chains of Fate, while Slavery, like another vulture,
preyed upon its vitals. Let Franklin speak for them. He was
President of the earliest Abolition Society in the United States,
and in 1790, only two years after the adoption of the Constitution,
addressed a petition to Congress, calling upon them to "step to
the very verge of the power vested in them for discouraging every
species of traffic in the persons of our fellow-men."[190] Let
Jefferson speak for them. His desire for the abolition of slavery
was often expressed with philanthropic warmth and emphasis, and is
too familiar to be quoted. Let Washington speak for them. "It is
among my first wishes," he said, in a letter to John F. Mercer,
"to see some plan adopted by which slavery in this country _may
be abolished by law_."[191] And in his will, penned with his own
hand, during the last year of his life, he bore his testimony
again, by providing for the emancipation of all his slaves. It is
thus that Washington speaks, not only by words, but by actions
more significant "Give freedom to your slaves." The Father of his
Country requires, as a token of the filial piety which all profess,
that his example shall be followed. I am not insensible to the many
glories of his character; but I cannot contemplate this act without
a fresh feeling of admiration and gratitude. The martial scene
depicted on that votive canvas may fade from the memory of men; but
this act of justice and benevolence can never perish.
"Ergo postque magisque viri nunc gloria claret."
[190] Annals of Congress, First Congress, Second Session, col. 1198.
[191] Sparks's Writings of Washington, Vol. IX. p. 159, note.
I assume, then, that it is the duty of Whigs professing the
principles of the fathers to express themselves openly,
distinctly, and solemnly against slavery,--_not only against its
further extension, but against its longer continuance under the
Constitution and Laws of the Union_. But while it is their duty
to enter upon this holy warfare, it should be their aim to temper
it with moderation, with gentleness, with tenderness, towards
slave-owners. These should be won, if possible, rather than driven,
to the duties of emancipation. But emancipation should always be
presented as the cardinal object of our national policy.
It is for the Whigs of Massachusetts now to say whether the
republican edifice shall indeed be one where all the Christian
virtues will be fellow-workers with them. The resolutions which
they adopt, the platform of principles which they establish, must
be the imperishable foundation of a true glory.
But it will not be sufficient to pass _resolutions_ opposing
slavery; we must choose _men_ who will devote themselves earnestly,
heartily, to the work,--who will enter upon it with awakened
conscience, and with that valiant faith before which all obstacles
disappear,--who will be ever loyal to Truth, Freedom, Right,
Humanity,--who will not look for rules of conduct down to earth,
in the mire of expediency, but with heaven-directed countenance
seek those great "primal duties" which "shine aloft like stars,"
to illumine alike the path of individuals and of nations. They
must be true to the principles of Massachusetts. They must not
be Northern men with Southern principles, nor Northern men under
Southern influences. They must be courageous and willing on all
occasions to stand alone, provided Right be with them. "Were there
as many devils in Worms as there are tiles upon the roofs," said
Martin Luther, "yet would I enter." Such a spirit is needed now
by the advocates of Right. They must not be ashamed of the name
which belongs to Franklin, Jefferson, and Washington,--expressing
the idea which should be theirs,--Abolitionist. They must be
thorough, uncompromising advocates of the repeal of slavery,--of
its abolition under the laws and Constitution of the United States.
They must be Repealers, Abolitionists.
There are a few such now in Congress. Massachusetts has a
venerable Representative,[192] whose aged bosom still glows with
inextinguishable fires, like the central heats of the monarch
mountain of the Andes beneath its canopy of snow. To this cause
he dedicates the closing energies of a long and illustrious life.
Would that all might join him!
[192] John Quincy Adams.
There is a Senator of Massachusetts we had hoped to welcome here
to-day, whose position is of commanding influence. Let me address
him with the respectful frankness of a constituent and friend.
Already, Sir, by various labors, you have acquired an honorable
place in the history of our country. By the vigor, argumentation,
and eloquence with which you upheld the Union, and that
interpretation of the Constitution which makes us a Nation, you
have justly earned the title of _Defender of the Constitution_. By
masterly and successful negotiation, and by efforts to compose the
strife concerning Oregon, you have earned another title,--_Defender
of Peace_. Pardon me, if I add, that there are yet other duties
claiming your care, whose performance will be the crown of a long
life in the public service. Do not forget them. Dedicate, Sir, the
years happily in store for you, with all that precious experience
which is yours, to grand endeavor, in the name of Human Freedom,
for the overthrow of that terrible evil which now afflicts our
country. In this cause are inspirations to eloquence higher than
any you have yet confessed.
"To heavenly themes sublimer strains belong."
Do not shrink from the task. With the marvellous powers that are
yours, under the auspicious influences of an awakened public
sentiment, and under God, who smiles always upon conscientious
labor for the welfare of man, we may hope for beneficent results.
Assume, then, these unperformed duties. The aged shall bear witness
to you; the young shall kindle with rapture, as they repeat the
name of Webster; the large company of the ransomed shall teach
their children and their children's children, to the latest
generation, to call you blessed; and you shall have yet another
title, never to be forgotten on earth or in heaven,--_Defender
of Humanity_,--by the side of which that earlier title will fade
into insignificance, as the Constitution, which is the work of
mortal hands, dwindles by the side of Man, created in the image of
God.[193]
[193] How Mr. Webster regarded this appeal will be seen in a letter
from him at the end of the Speech.
To my mind it is clear that the time has arrived when the Whigs
of Massachusetts, the party of Freedom, owe it to their declared
principles, to their character before the world, and to conscience,
that they should place themselves firmly on this honest ground.
They need not fear to stand alone. They need not fear separation
from brethren with whom they have acted in concert. Better be
separated even from them than from the Right. Massachusetts can
stand alone, if need be. The Whigs of Massachusetts can stand
alone. Their motto should not be, "Our party, _howsoever bounded_,"
but "Our party, bounded always by the Right." They must recognize
the dominion of Right, or there will be none who will recognize
the dominion of the party. Let us, then, in Faneuil Hall, beneath
the images of our fathers, vow perpetual allegiance to the Right,
and perpetual hostility to Slavery. Ours is a noble cause, nobler
even than that of our fathers, inasmuch as it is more exalted to
struggle for the freedom of _others_ than for _our own_. The love
of Right, which is the animating impulse of our movement, is higher
even than the love of Freedom. But Right, Freedom, and Humanity all
concur in demanding the Abolition of Slavery.
LETTER OF MR. WEBSTER TO MR. SUMNER.
MARSHFIELD, October 5, 1846.
MY DEAR SIR,--I had the pleasure to receive yours of September
25th, and thank you for the kind and friendly sentiments which you
express. These sentiments are reciprocal. I have ever cherished
high respect for your character and talents, and seen with pleasure
the promise of your future and greater eminence and usefulness.
In political affairs we happen to entertain, at the present moment,
a difference of opinion respecting the relative importance of some
of the political questions of the time, and take a different view
of the line of duty most fit to be pursued in endeavors to obtain
all the good which can be obtained in connection with certain
important subjects. These differences I much regret, but shall not
allow them to interfere with personal regard, or my continued good
wishes for your prosperity and happiness.
Yours truly,
DANIEL WEBSTER.
MR. SUMNER.
WRONGFUL DECLARATION OF WAR AGAINST MEXICO.
LETTER TO HON. ROBERT C. WINTHROP, REPRESENTATIVE IN CONGRESS FROM
BOSTON, OCTOBER 25, 1846.
Sir,--Newspapers, and some among your friends, complain of the
manner in which many of your constituents are obliged to regard
your vote on the Mexican War Bill. This vote is defended with an
ardor such as even Truth, Freedom, and Right do not always find in
their behalf,--while honest strictures are attributed to personal
motives, sometimes to a selfish desire for the place you now hold,
sometimes even to a wanton purpose to injure you.
All this may be the natural and inevitable incident of political
controversy; but it must be regretted that personal feelings
and imputations of personal selfishness should intrude into the
discussion of an important question of public duty,--I might say,
of public morals. As a Whig, never failing to vote for you when I
had an opportunity, I have felt it proper on other occasions to
review your course, and to express the sorrow it caused. For this
I am arraigned; and the question of public morals is forgotten
in personal feeling. This is my excuse for recalling attention
now to the true issue. Conscious of no feeling to yourself
personally, except of good-will, mingled with the recollection
of pleasant social intercourse, I refer with pain to your vote,
and the apologies for it which have been set up. As one of your
constituents, I single you, who are the representative of Boston,
among the majority with whom you acted. I am not a politician;
and you will pardon me, therefore, if I do not bring your conduct
to any test of party or of numbers, to any sliding scale of
expediency, to any standard except the rule of Right and Wrong.
To understand your course, it will be necessary to consider the
action of Congress in declaring war against Mexico. I shall state
the facts and conclusions briefly as possible.
By virtue of an unconstitutional Act of Congress, in conjunction
with the _de facto_ government of Texas, the latter was annexed
to the United States some time in the month of December, 1845.
If we regard Texas as a province of Mexico, its boundaries must
be sought in the geography of that republic. If we regard it as
an independent State, they must be determined by the extent of
jurisdiction which the State was able to maintain. Now it seems
clear that the river Nueces was always recognized by Mexico as
the western boundary; and it is undisputed that the State of
Texas, since its Declaration of Independence, never exercised any
jurisdiction beyond the Nueces. The Act of Annexation could not,
therefore, transfer to the United States any title to the region
between the Nueces and the Rio Grande. That region belonged to
Mexico. _Certainly_ it did not belong to the United States.
In the month of January, 1846, the President of the United States
directed the troops under General Taylor, called the Army of
Occupation, to take possession of this region. Here was an act of
aggression. As might have been expected, it produced collision.
The Mexicans, aroused in self-defence, sought to repel the invaders
from their hearths and churches. Unexpected tidings reached
Washington that the American forces were in danger. The President,
in a message to Congress, called for succors.
Here the question occurs, What was the duty of Congress in this
emergency? Clearly to withhold all sanction to unjust war,--to
aggression upon a neighboring Republic,--to spoliation of
fellow-men. Our troops were in danger only because upon foreign
soil, forcibly displacing the jurisdiction and laws of the rightful
government. In this condition of things, the way of safety, just
and honorable, was by instant withdrawal from the Rio Grande to the
Nueces. Congress should have spoken like Washington, when General
Braddock, staggered by the peril of the moment, asked the youthful
soldier, "What shall I do, Colonel Washington?" "RETREAT, Sir!
RETREAT, Sir!" was the earnest reply. The American forces should
have been directed to _retreat_,--not from any human force, but
from _wrong-doing_; and this would have been a true victory.
Alas! this was not the mood of Congress. With wicked speed a
bill was introduced, furnishing large and unusual supplies of
men and money. In any just sense, such provision was wasteful
and unnecessary; but it would hardly be worthy of criticism, if
confined in its object to the safety of the troops. When made,
it must have been known that the fate of the troops was already
decided, while the magnitude of the appropriations and the number
of volunteers called for showed that measures were contemplated
_beyond self-defence_. Self-defence is easy and cheap. Aggression
and injustice are difficult and costly.
The bill, in its earliest guise, provided money and volunteers
only. Suddenly an amendment is introduced, in the nature of a
preamble, which gives to it _another character_, in harmony with
the covert design of the large appropriation. This was adopted by
a vote of 123 to 67; and the bill then leaped forth, fully armed,
as a measure of open and active hostility against Mexico. As such,
it was passed by a vote of 174 to 14. This was on the 11th of May,
1846, destined to be among the dark days of our history.
The amendment, in the nature of a preamble, and the important part
of the bill, are as follows.
"_Whereas, by the act of the Republic of Mexico, a state of war exists
between that Government and the United States,_--
"Be it enacted, &c., _That, for the purpose of enabling the Government
of the United States to prosecute said war to a speedy and successful
termination_, the President be, and he is hereby, authorized to employ
the militia, naval, and military forces of the United States, and to
call for and accept the services of any number of volunteers, not
exceeding fifty thousand, and that the sum of ten millions of dollars
be, and the same is hereby, appropriated for the purpose."
This Act cannot be regarded merely as provision for the safety of
General Taylor; nor, indeed can this be considered the principal
end proposed. It has other and ulterior objects, broader and more
general, in view of which his safety, important as it might be, is
of comparative insignificance; as it would be less mournful to lose
a whole army than lend the solemn sanction of legislation to an
unjust war.
This Act may be considered in six different aspects. It is six
times wrong. Six different and unanswerable reasons should have
urged its rejection. Six different appeals should have touched
every heart. I shall consider them separately.
_First._ It is practically a DECLARATION OF WAR against a sister
Republic. By the Constitution of the United States, the power of
declaring war is vested in Congress. Before this Act was passed,
the Mexican War had no legislative sanction. Without this Act it
could have no legislative sanction. _By virtue of this Act_ the
present war is waged. _By virtue of this Act_, an American fleet,
at immense cost of money, and without any gain of character, is
now disturbing the commerce of Mexico, and of the civilized world,
by the blockade of Vera Cruz. _By virtue of this Act_, a distant
expedition, with pilfering rapacity, has seized the defenceless
province of California. _By virtue of this Act_ General Kearney has
marched upon and captured Santa Fe. _By virtue of this Act_ General
Taylor has perpetrated the massacre at Monterey. _By virtue of this
Act_ desolation has been carried into a thousand homes, while the
uncoffined bodies of sons, brothers, and husbands are consigned
to premature graves. Lastly, it is _by virtue of this Act_ that
the army of the United States has been converted into a _legalized
band_ of brigands, marauders, and banditti, against the sanctions
of civilization, justice, and humanity. American soldiers, who have
fallen wretchedly in the streets of a foreign city, in the attack
upon a _Bishop's_ palace, in contest with Christian fellow-men
defending firesides and altars, may claim the epitaph of Simonides:
"Go, tell the Lacedæmonians that we lie here in obedience to their
commands." It was in obedience to this Act of Congress that they
laid down their lives.
_Secondly._ This Act gives the sanction of Congress to an _unjust_
war. War is barbarous and brutal; but this is unjust. It grows
out of aggression on our part, and is continued by aggression. The
statement of facts already made is sufficient on this head.
_Thirdly._ It declares that war exists "_by the act of the Republic
of Mexico_." This statement of brazen falsehood is inserted in the
front of the Act. But it is now admitted by most, if not all, of
the Whigs who unhappily voted for it, that it is not founded in
fact. It is a national lie.
"Whose tongue soe'er speaks false
Not truly speaks; _who speaks not truly_ LIES."
_Fourthly._ It provides for the prosecution of the war "_to a
speedy and successful termination_,"--that is, for the speedy and
successful prosecution of _unjust_ war. Surely no rule can be
better founded in morals than that we should seek the establishment
of _right_. How, then, can we strive to hasten the triumph of wrong?
_Fifthly._ The war has its origin in a series of measures to extend
and perpetuate slavery. A wise and humane legislator should have
discerned its source, and found fresh impulses to oppose it.
_Sixthly._ The war is dishonorable and cowardly, as the attack of
a rich, powerful, numerous, and united republic upon a weak and
defenceless neighbor, distracted by civil feud. Every consideration
of honor, manliness, and Christian duty prompted gentleness and
forbearance towards our unfortunate sister.
Such, Sir, is the Act of Congress which received your sanction.
Hardly does it yield in importance to any measure of our Government
since the adoption of the National Constitution. It is the most
wicked in our history, as it is one of the most wicked in all
history. The recording Muse will drop a tear over its turpitude
and injustice, while it is gibbeted for the disgust and
reprobation of mankind.
Such, Sir, is the Act of Congress to which by your affirmative vote
the people of Boston are made parties. Through _you_ they are made
to _declare unjust and cowardly war, with superadded falsehood, in
the cause of Slavery_. Through _you_ they are made partakers in
the blockade of Vera Cruz, the seizure of California, the capture
of Santa Fe, the bloodshed of Monterey. It were idle to suppose
that the soldier or officer only is stained by this guilt. It
reaches far back, and incarnadines the Halls of Congress; nay,
more, through you, it reddens the hands of your constituents in
Boston. Pardon this language. Strong as it may seem, it is weak to
express the aggravation of this Act. Rather than lend your hand to
this wickedness, you should have suffered the army of the United
States to pass submissively through the Caudine Forks of Mexican
power,--to perish, it might be, like the legions of Varus. Their
bleached bones, in the distant valleys where they were waging
unjust war, would not tell to posterity such a tale of ignominy as
this lying Act of Congress.
Passing from the character and consequences of your vote, I proceed
to examine the grounds on which it is vindicated: for it is
vindicated, by yourself, and by some of your friends!