I say again it is time for the people to take up this matter. Your

Congress will do nothing till you tell them what and how! Your 29th

Congress can do little good. Its sands are nearly run, God be thanked!

It is the most infamous Congress we ever had. We began with the Congress

that declared Independence, and swore by the Eternal Justice of God. We

have come down to the 29th Congress, which declared war existed by the

act of Mexico, declared a lie; the Congress that swore by the Baltimore

Convention! We began with George Washington, and have got down to James

K. Polk.

It is time for the people of Massachusetts to instruct their servants in

Congress to oppose this war; to refuse all supplies for it; to ask for

the recall of the army into our own land. It is time for us to tell

them that not an inch of slave territory shall ever be added to the

realm. Let us remonstrate; let us petition; let us command. If any class

of men have hitherto been remiss, let them come forward now and give us

their names--the merchants, the manufacturers, the whigs and the

democrats. If men love their country better than their party or their

purse, now let them show it.

Let us ask the General Court of Massachusetts to cancel every commission

which the Governor has given to the officers of the volunteers. Let us

ask them to disband the companies not yet mustered into actual service;

and then, if you like that, ask them to call a convention of the people

of Massachusetts, to see what we shall do in reference to the war; in

reference to the annexation of more territory; in reference to the

violation of the Constitution! (Loud groans from crowds of rude fellows

in several parts of the hall.) That was a tory groan; they never dared

groan so in Faneuil Hall before; not even the British tories, when they

had no bayonets to back them up! I say, let us ask for these things!

Your President tells us it is treason to talk so! Treason is it? treason

to discuss a war which the government made, and which the people are

made to pay for? If it be treason to speak against the war, what was it

to make the war, to ask for 50,000 men and $74,000,000 for the war? Why,

if the people cannot discuss the war they have got to fight and to pay

for, who under heaven can? Whose business is it, if it is not yours and

mine? If my country is in the wrong, and I know it, and hold my peace,

then I am guilty of treason, moral treason. Why, a wrong,--it is only

the threshold of ruin. I would not have my country take the next step.

Treason is it, to show that this war is wrong and wicked! Why, what if

George III., any time from '75 to '83, had gone down to Parliament and

told them it was treason to discuss the war then waging against these

colonies! What do you think the Commons would have said? What would the

Lords say? Why, that King, foolish as he was, would have been lucky, if

he had not learned there was a joint in his neck, and, stiff as he bore

him, that the people knew how to find it.

I do not believe in killing kings, or any other men; but I do say, in a

time when the nation was not in danger, that no British king, for two

hundred years past, would have dared call it treason to discuss the

war--its cause, its progress, or its termination!

Now is the time to act! Twice we have let the occasion slip; beware of

the third time! Let it be infamous for a New England man to enlist; for

a New-England merchant to loan his dollars, or to let his ships in aid

of this wicked war; let it be infamous for a manufacturer to make a

cannon, a sword, or a kernel of powder, to kill our brothers with,

while we all know that they are in the right, and we in the wrong.

I know my voice is a feeble one in Massachusetts. I have no mountainous

position from whence to look down and overawe the multitude; I have no

back-ground of political reputation to echo my words; I am but a plain

humble man; but I have a back-ground of Truth to sustain me, and the

Justice of Heaven arches over my head! For your sakes, I wish I had that

oceanic eloquence whose tidal flow should bear on its bosom the

drift-weed which politicians have piled together, and sap and sweep away

the sand hillocks of soldiery blown together by the idle wind; that

oceanic eloquence which sweeps all before it, and leaves the shore hard,

smooth and clean! But feeble as I am, let me beg of you, fellow-citizens

of Boston, men and brothers, to come forward and protest against this

wicked war, and the end for which it is waged. I call on the whigs, who

love their country better than they love the tariff of '42; I call on

the democrats, who think Justice is greater than the Baltimore

Convention,--I call on the whigs and democrats to come forward and join

with me in opposing this wicked war! I call on the men of Boston, on the

men of the old Bay State, to act worthy of their fathers, worthy of

their country, worthy of themselves! Men and brothers, I call on you all

to protest against this most infamous war, in the name of the State, in

the name of the country, in the name of man, yes, in the name of God:

Leave not your children saddled with a war debt, to cripple the nation's

commerce for years to come. Leave not your land cursed with slavery,

extended and extending, palsying the nation's arm and corrupting the

nation's heart. Leave not your memory infamous among the nations,

because you feared men, feared the Government; because you loved money

got by crime, land plundered in war, loved land unjustly bounded;

because you debased your country by defending the wrong she dared to do;

because you loved slavery; loved war, but loved not the Eternal Justice

of all-judging God. If my counsel is weak and poor, follow one stronger

and more manly. I am speaking to men; think of these things, and then

act like men.

FOOTNOTES:

[9] John Quincy Adams.

V.

A SERMON OF THE MEXICAN WAR.--PREACHED AT THE MELODEON, ON SUNDAY, JUNE

25, 1848.

Soon after the commencement of the war against Mexico, I said something

respecting it in this place. But while I was printing the sermon, I was

advised to hasten the compositors in their work, or the war would be

over before the sermon was out. The advice was like a good deal of the

counsel that is given to a man who thinks for himself, and honestly

speaks what he unavoidably thinks. It is now more than two years since

the war began; I have hoped to live long enough to see it ended, and

hoped to say a word about it when over. A month ago, this day, the 25th

of May, the treaty of peace, so much talked of, was ratified by the

Mexican Congress. A few days ago, it was officially announced by

telegraph to your collector in Boston, that the war with Mexico was at

an end.

There are two things about this war quite remarkable. The first is, the

manner of its commencement. It was begun illegally, without the action

of the constitutional authorities; begun by the command of the President

of the United States, who ordered the American army into a territory

which the Mexicans claimed as their own. The President says "It is

ours," but the Mexicans also claimed it, and were in possession thereof

until forcibly expelled. This is a plain case, and as I have elsewhere

treated at length of this matter,[10] I will not dwell upon it again,

except to mention a single fact but recently divulged. It is well known

that Mr. Polk claimed the territory west of the Nueces and east of the

Rio Grande, as forming a part of Texas, and therefore as forming part of

the United States after the annexation of Texas. He contends that Mexico

began the war by attacking the American army while in that territory and

near the Rio Grande. But, from the correspondence laid before the

American Senate, in its secret session for considering the treaty, it

now appears that on the 10th of November, 1845, Mr. Polk instructed Mr.

Slidell to offer a relinquishment of American claims against Mexico,

amounting to $5,000,000 or $6,000,000, for the sake of having the Rio

Grande as the western boundary of Texas; yes, for that very territory

which he says was ours without paying a cent. When it was conquered, a

military government was established there, as in other places in Mexico.

The other remarkable thing about the war is, the manner of its

conclusion. The treaty of peace which has just been ratified by the

Mexican authorities, and which puts an end to the war, was negotiated by

a man who had no more legal authority than any one of us has to do it.

Mr. Polk made the war, without consulting Congress, and that body

adopted the war by a vote almost unanimous. Mr. Nicholas P. Trist made

the treaty, without consulting the President; yes, even after the

President had ordered him to return home. As the Congress adopted Mr.

Polk's war, so Mr. Polk adopted Mr. Trist's treaty, and the war

illegally begun is brought informally to a close. Mr. Polk is now in the

President's chair, seated on the throne of the Union, although he made

the war; and Mr. Trist, it is said, is under arrest for making the

treaty, meddling with what was none of his business.

* * * * *

When the war began, there was a good deal of talk about it here; talk

against it. But, as things often go in Boston, it ended in talk. The

news-boys made money out of the war. Political parties were true to

their wonted principles, or their wonted prejudices. The friends of the

party in power could see no informality in the beginning of hostilities;

no injustice in the war itself; not even an impolicy. They were

offended if an obscure man preached against it of a Sunday. The

political opponents of the party in power talked against the war, as a

matter of course; but, when the elections came, supported the men that

made it with unusual alacrity--their deeds serving as commentary upon

their words, and making further remark thereon, in this place, quite

superfluous. Many men,--who, whatever other parts of Scripture they may

forget, never cease to remember that "Money answereth all

things,"--diligently set themselves to make money out of the war and the

new turn it gave to national affairs. Others thought that "glory" was a

good thing, and so engaged in the war itself, hoping to return, in due

time, all glittering with its honors.

So what with the one political party that really praised the war, and

the other who affected to oppose it, and with the commercial party, who

looked only for a market--this for merchandise and that for

"patriotism"--the friends of peace, who seriously and heartily opposed

the war, were very few in number. True, the "sober second thought" of

the people has somewhat increased their number; but they are still few,

mostly obscure men.

Now peace has come, nobody talks much about it; the news-boys have

scarce made a cent by the news. They fired cannons, a hundred guns on

the Common, for joy at the victory of Monterey; at Philadelphia,

Baltimore, Washington, New York, men illuminated their houses in honor

of the battle of Buena Vista, I think it was; the custom-house was

officially illuminated at Boston for that occasion. But we hear of no

cannons to welcome the peace. Thus far, it does not seem that a single

candle has been burnt in rejoicing for that. The newspapers are full of

talk, as usual; flags are flying in the streets; the air is a little

noisy with hurrahs, but it is all talk about the conventions at

Baltimore and Philadelphia; hurrahs for Taylor and Cass. Nobody talks of

the peace. Flags enough flap in the wind, with the names of rival

candidates; but nowhere do the stripes and stars bear Peace as their

motto. The peace now secured is purchased with such conditions imposed

on Mexico, that while every one will be glad of it, no man, that loves

justice, can be proud of it. Very little is said about the treaty. The

distinguished senator from Massachusetts did himself honor, it seems to

me, in voting against it on the ground that it enabled us to plunder

Mexico of her land. But the treaty contains some things highly honorable

to the character of the nation, of which we may well enough be proud, if

ever of any thing. I refer to the twenty-second and twenty-third

articles, which provide for arbitration between the nations, if future

difficulties should occur; and to the pains taken, in case of actual

hostilities, for the security of all unarmed persons, for the protection

of private property, and for the humane treatment of all prisoners

taken in war. These ideas, and the language of these articles, are

copied from the celebrated treaty between the United States and Prussia,

the treaty of 1785. It is scarcely needful to add, that they were then

introduced by that great and good man, Benjamin Franklin, one of the

negotiators of the treaty. They made a new epoch in diplomacy, and

introduced a principle previously unknown in the law of nations. The

insertion of these articles in the new treaty is, perhaps, the only

thing connected with the war, which an American can look upon with

satisfaction. Yet this fact excites no attention.[11]

Still, while so little notice is taken of this matter, in public and

private, it may be worth while for a minister, on Sunday, to say a word

about the peace; and, now the war is over, to look back upon it, to see

what it has cost, in money and in men, and what we have got by it; what

its consequences have been, thus far, and are likely to be for the

future; what new dangers and duties come from this cause interpolated

into our nation. We have been long promised "indemnity for the past, and

security for the future:" let us see what we are to be indemnified for,

and what secured against. The natural justice of the war I will not look

at now.

* * * * *

First, then, of the cost of the war. Money is the first thing with a

good many men; the only thing with some; and an important thing with

all. So, first of all, let me speak of the cost of the war in dollars.

It is a little difficult to determine the actual cost of the war, thus

far--even its direct cost; for the bills are not all in the hands of

Government; and then, as a matter of political party-craft, the

Government, of course, is unwilling to let the full cost become known

before the next election is over. So it is to be expected that the

Government will keep the facts from the people as long as possible. Most

Governments would do the same. But Truth has a right of way everywhere,

and will recover it at last, spite of the adverse possession of a

political party. The indirect cost of the war must be still more

difficult to come at, and will long remain a matter of calculation, in

which it is impossible to reach certainty. We do not know yet the entire

cost of the Florida war, or the late war with England; the complete cost

of the Revolutionary war must forever be unknown.

It is natural for most men to exaggerate what favors their argument; but

when I cannot obtain the exact figures, I will come a good deal within

the probable amount. The military and naval appropriations for the year

ending in June, 1847, were $40,865,155.96; for the next year,

$31,377,679.92; the sum asked for the present year, till next June,

$42,224,000; making a whole of $114,466,835.88. It is true that all this

appropriation is not for the Mexican war, but it is also true that this

sum does not include all the appropriations for the war. Estimating the

sums already paid by the Government, the private claims presented and to

be presented, the $15,000,000 to be paid Mexico as purchase-money for

the territory we take from her, the $5,000,000 or $6,000,000 to be paid

our own citizens for their claims against her,--I think I am a good deal

within the mark when I say the war will have cost $150,000,000 before

the soldiers are at home, discharged, and out of the pay of the state.

In this sum I do not include the bounty-lands to be given to the

soldiers and officers, nor the pensions to be paid them, their widows

and orphans, for years to come. I will estimate that at $50,000,000

more, making a whole of $200,000,000 which has been paid or must be.

This is the direct cost to the Federal Government, and of course does

not include the sums paid by individual States, or bestowed by private

generosity, to feed and clothe the volunteers before they were mustered

into service. This may seem extravagant; but, fifty years hence, when

party spirit no longer blinds men's eyes, and when the whole is a

matter of history, I think it will be thought moderate, and be found a

good deal within the actual and direct cost. Some of this cost will

appear as a public debt. Statements recently made respecting it can

hardly be trusted, notwithstanding the authority on which they rest.

Part of this war debt is funded already, part not yet funded. When the

outstanding demands are all settled, and the treasury notes redeemed,

there will probably be a war debt of not less than $125,000,000. At

least, such is the estimate of an impartial and thoroughly competent

judge. But, not to exaggerate, let us call it only $100,000,000.

It will, perhaps, be said: Part of this money, all that is paid in

pensions, is a charity, and therefore no loss. But it is a charity paid

to men who, except for the war, would have needed no such aid; and,

therefore, a waste. Of the actual cost of the war, some three or four

millions have been spent in extravagant prices for hiring or purchasing

ships, in buying provisions and various things needed by the army, and

supplied by political favorites at exorbitant rates. This is the only

portion of the cost which is not a sheer waste; here the money has only

changed hands; nothing has been destroyed, except the honesty of the

parties concerned in such transactions. If a farmer hires men to help

him till the soil, the men earn their subsistence and their wages, and

leave, besides, a profit to their employer; when the season is over, he

has his crops and his improvements as the return for their pay and

subsistence. But for all that the soldier has consumed, for his wages,

his clothes, his food and drink, the fighting tools he has worn out, and

the ammunition he has expended, there is no available return to show;

all that is a clear waste. The beef is eaten up, the cloth worn away,

the powder is burnt, and what is there to show for it all? Nothing but

the "glory." You sent out sound men, and they come back, many of them,

sick and maimed; some of them are slain.

The indirect pecuniary cost of the war is caused, first, by diverting

some 150,000 men, engaged in the war directly or remotely, from the

works of productive industry, to the labors of war, which produce

nothing; and, secondly, by disturbing the regular business of the

country, first by the withdrawal of men from their natural work; then,

by withdrawing large quantities of money from the active capital of the

nation; and, finally, by the general uncertainty which it causes all

over the land, thus hindering men from undertaking or prosecuting

successfully their various productive enterprises. If 150,000 men earn

on the average but $200 apiece, that alone amounts to $30,000,000. The

withdrawal of such an amount of labor from the common industry of the

country must be seriously felt. At any rate, the nation has earned

$30,000,000 less than it would have done, if these men had kept about

their common work.

But the diversion of capital from its natural and pacific direction is a

greater evil in this case. America is rich, but her wealth consists

mainly in land, in houses, cattle, ships, and various things needed for

human comfort and industry. In money, we are poor. The amount of money

is small in proportion to the actual wealth of the nation, and also in

proportion to its activity which is indicated by the business of the

nation. In actual wealth, the free States of America are probably the

richest people in the world; but in money we are poorer than many other

nations. This is plain enough, though perhaps not very well known, and

is shown by the fact that interest, in European States, is from two to

four per cent. a year, and in America from six to nine. The active

capital of America is small. Now in this war, a national debt has

accumulated, which probably is or will soon be $100,000,000 or

$125,000,000. All this great sum of money has, of course, been taken

from the active capital of the country, and there has been so much less

for the use of the farmer, the manufacturer, and the merchant. But for

this war, these 150,000 men and these $100,000,000 would have been

devoted to productive industry; and the result would have been shown by

the increase of our annual earnings, in increased wealth and comfort.

Then war produced uncertainty, and that distrust amongst men. Therefore

many were hindered from undertaking new works, and others found their

old enterprises ruined at once. In this way there has been a great loss,

which cannot be accurately estimated. I think no man, familiar with

American industry, would rate this indirect loss lower than

$100,000,000; some, perhaps, at twice as much; but to avoid all

possibility of exaggeration, let us call it half the smallest of these

sums, or $50,000,000, as the complete pecuniary cost of the Mexican war,

direct and indirect.

What have we got to show for all this money? We have a large tract of

territory, containing, in all, both east and west of the Rio Grande, I

am told, between 700,000 and 800,000 square miles. Accounts differ as to

its value. But it appears, from the recent correspondence of Mr.

Slidell, that in 1845 the President offered Mexico, in money,

$25,000,000 for that territory which we now acquire under this new

treaty. Suppose it is worth more, suppose it is worth twice as much, or

all the indirect cost of the war ($50,000,000), then the $200,000,000

are thrown away.

Now, for this last sum, we could have built a sufficient railroad across

the Isthmus of Panama, and another across the continent, from the

Mississippi to the Pacific. If such a road, with its suitable equipment,

cost $100,000 a mile, and the distance should amount to 2,000 miles,

then the $200,000,000 would just pay the bills. That would have been the

greatest national work of productive industry in the world. In

comparison with it, the Lake Moeris and the Pyramids of Egypt, and the

Wall of China seem but the works of a child. It might be a work to be

proud of till the world ends; one, too, which would advance the

industry, the welfare, and general civilization of mankind to a great

degree, diminishing, by half, the distance round the globe; saving

millions of property and many lives each year; besides furnishing, it is

thought, a handsome income from the original outlay. But, perhaps, that

would not be the best use which might be made of the money; perhaps it

would not have been wise to undertake that work. I do not pretend to

judge of such matters, only to show what might be done with that sum of

money, if we were disposed to construct works of such a character. At

any rate, two Pacific railroads would be better than one Mexican war. We

are seldom aware of the cost of war. If a single regiment of dragoons

cost only $700,000 a year, which is a good deal less than the actual

cost, that is considerably more than the cost of twelve colleges like

Harvard University, with its schools for theology, law, and medicine;

its scientific school, observatory, and all. We are, taken as a whole, a

very ignorant people; and while we waste our school-money and

school-time, must continue so.

A great man, who towers far above the common heads, full of creative

thought, of the ideas which move the world, able to organize that

thought into institutions, laws, practical works; a man of a million, a

million-minded man, at the head of a nation, putting his thought into

them; ruling not barely by virtue of his position, but by the

intellectual and moral power to fill it; ruling not over men's heads,

but in their minds and hearts, and leading them to new fields of toil,

increasing their numbers, wealth, intelligence, comfort, morals,

piety--such a man is a noble sight; a Charlemagne, or a Genghis Khan, a

Moses leading his nation up from Egyptian bondage to freedom and the

promised land. How have the eyes of the world been fixed on Washington!

In darker days than ours, when all was violence, it is easy to excuse

such men if they were warriors also, and made, for the time, their

nation but a camp. There have been ages when the most lasting ink was

human blood. In our day, when war is the exception, and that commonly

needless, such a man, so getting the start of the majestic world, were a

far grander sight. And with such a man at the head of this nation, a

great man at the head of a free nation, able and energetic, and

enterprising as we are, what were too much to hope? As it is, we have

wasted our money, and got, the honor of fighting such a war.

* * * * *

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