Sir, when a nation sets itself to do evil, and all its leading forces,

wealth, party, and piety, join in the career, it is impossible but that

those who offer a constant opposition should be hated and maligned, no

matter how wise, cautious, and well planned their course may be. We

are peculiar sufferers in this way. The community has come to hate its

reproving Nathan so bitterly, that even those whom the relenting part of

it are beginning to regard as standard-bearers of the antislavery host

think it unwise to avow any connection or sympathy with him. I refer to

some of the leaders of the political movement against slavery. They feel

it to be their mission to marshal and use as effectively as possible

the present convictions of the people. They cannot afford to encumber

themselves with the odium which twenty years of angry agitation have

engendered in great sects sore from unsparing rebuke, parties galled by

constant defeat, and leading men provoked by unexpected exposure. They

are willing to confess, privately, that our movement produced theirs,

and that its continued existence is the very breath of their life. But,

at the same time, they would fain walk on the road without being soiled

by too close contact with the rough pioneers who threw it up. They are

wise and honorable, and their silence is very expressive.

When I speak of their eminent position and acknowledged ability, another

thought strikes me. Who converted these men and their distinguished

associates? It is said we have shown neither sagacity in plans,

nor candor in discussion, nor ability. Who, then, or what converted

Burlingame and Wilson, Sumner and Adams, Palfrey and Mann, Chase and

Hale, and Phillips and Giddings? Who taught the _Christian Register_,

the _Daily Advertiser_, and that class of prints, that there were such

things as a slave and a slave-holder in the land, and so gave them some

more intelligent basis than their mere instincts to hate William Lloyd

Garrison? What magic wand was it whose touch made the todying servility

of the land start up the real demon that it was, and at the same

time gathered into the slave's service the professional ability, ripe

culture, and personal integrity which grace the Free Soil ranks? We

never argue! These men, then, were converted by simple denunciation!

They were all converted by the "hot," "reckless," "ranting," "bigoted,"

"fanatic" Garrison, who never troubled himself about facts, nor stopped

to argue with an opponent, but straightway knocked him down! My old

and valued friend, Mr. Sumner, often boasts that he was a reader of the

_Liberator_ before I was. Do not criticise too much the agency by which

such men were converted. That blade has a double edge. Our reckless

course, our empty rant, our fanaticism, has made Abolitionists of some

of the best and ablest men in the land. We are inclined to go on, and

see if, even with such poor tools, we cannot make some more. Antislavery

zeal and the roused conscience of the "godless comeouters" made the

trembling South demand the Fugitive Slave Law, and the Fugitive Slave

Law provoked Mrs. Stowe to the good work of "Uncle Tom." That is

something! Let me say, in passing, that you will nowhere find an earlier

or more generous appreciation, or more flowing eulogy, of these men and

their labors, than in the columns of the _Liberator_. No one, however

feeble, has ever peeped or muttered, in any quarter, that the vigilant

eye of the _Pioneer_ has not recognized him. He has stretched out the

right hand of a most cordial welcome the moment any man's face was

turned Zionward.

I do not mention these things to praise Mr. Garrison; I do not stand

here for that purpose. You will not deny--if you do, I can prove

it--that the movement of the Abolitionists converted these men. Their

constituents were converted by it. The assault upon the right of

petition, upon the right to print and speak of slavery, the denial of

the right of Congress over the District, the annexation of Texas,

the Fugitive Slave Law, were measures which the anti-slavery movement

provoked, and the discussion of which has made all the Abolitionists we

have. The antislavery cause, then, converted these men; it gave them a

constituency; it gave them an opportunity to speak, and it gave them a

public to listen. The antislavery cause gave them their votes, got them

their offices, furnished them their facts, gave them their audience.

If you tell me they cherished all these principles in their own breasts

before Mr. Garrison appeared, I can only say, if the anti-slavery

movement did not give them their ideas, it surely gave the courage to

utter them.

In such circumstances, is it not singular that the name of William Lloyd

Garrison has never been pronounced on the floor of the United States

Congress linked with any epithet but that of contempt! No one of those

men who owe their ideas, their station, their audience, to him,

have ever thought it worth their while to utter one word in grateful

recognition of the power which called them into being. When obliged, by

the course of their argument, to treat the question historically, they

can go across the water to Clarkson and Wilberforce--yes, to a safe

salt-water distance. As Daniel Webster, when he was talking to the

farmers of Western New York, and wished to contrast slave labor and free

labor, did not dare to compare New York with Virginia--sister States,

under the same government, planted by the same race, worshipping at the

same altar, speaking the same language--identical in all respects, save

that one in which he wished to seek the contrast; but no; he compared

it with Cuba--the contrast was so close! Catholic--Protestant;

Spanish--Saxon; despotism--municipal institutions; readers of Lope de

Vega and of Shakespeare; mutterers of the Mass--children of the Bible!

But Virginia is too near home! So is Garrison! One would have thought

there was something in the human breast which would sometimes break

through policy. These noble-hearted men whom I have named must surely

have found quite irksome the constant practice of what Dr. Gardiner used

to call "that despicable virtue, prudence." One would have thought, when

they heard that name spoken with contempt, their ready eloquence would

have leaped from its scabbard to avenge even a word that threatened

him with insult. But it never came--never! I do not say I blame them.

Perhaps they thought they should serve the cause better by drawing a

broad black line between themselves and him. Perhaps they thought the

Devil could be cheated: I do not!

* * * * *

Caution is not always good policy in a cause like ours. It is said that,

when Napoleon saw the day going against him, he used to throw away

all the rules of war, and trust himself to the hot impetuosity of his

soldiers. The masses are governed more by impulse than conviction, and

even were it not so, the convictions of most men are on our side,

and this will surely appear, if we can only pierce the crust of their

prejudice or indifference. I observe that our Free Soil friends never

stir their audience so deeply as when some individual leaps beyond the

platform, and strikes upon the very heart of the people. Men listen to

discussions of laws and tactics with ominous patience. It is when Mr.

Sumner, in Faneuil Hall, avows his determination to disobey the

Fugitive Slave Law, and cries out: "I was a man before I was a

Commissioner,"--when Mr. Giddings says of the fall of slavery, quoting

Adams: "Let it come. If it must come in blood, yet I say let it

come!"--that their associates on the platform are sure they are

wrecking the party,--while many a heart beneath beats its first pulse of

anti-slavery life.

These are brave words. When I compare them with the general tone of Free

Soil men in Congress, I distrust the atmosphere of Washington and of

politics. These men move about, Sauls and Goliaths among us, taller by

many a cubit. There they lose port and stature. Mr. Sumner's speech

in the Senate unsays no part of his Faneuil Hall pledge. But, though

discussing the same topic, no one would gather from any word or argument

that the speaker ever took such ground as he did in Faneuil Hall. It

is all through, the law, the manner of the surrender, not the surrender

itself, of the slave, that he objects to. As my friend Mr. Pillsbury

so forcibly says, so far as any thing in the speech shows, he puts the

slave behind the jury trial, behind the habeas corpus act, and behind

the new interpretation of the Constitution, and says to the slave

claimant: "You must get through all these before you reach him; but, if

you can get through all these, you may have him!" It was no tone like

this which made the old Hall rock! Not if he got through twelve jury

trials, and forty habeas corpus acts, and constitutions built high

as yonder monument, would he permit so much as the shadow of a little

finger of the slave claimant to touch the slave! At least so he was

understood. * * *

Mr. Mann, in his speech of February 5, 1850, says: "The States being

separated, I would as soon return my own brother or sister into bondage,

as I would return a fugitive slave. Before God, and Christ, and all

Christian men, they are my brothers and sisters." What a condition! From

the lips, too, of a champion of the Higher Law! Whether the States

be separate or united, neither my brother nor any other man's brother

shall, with my consent, go back to bondage! So speaks the heart--Mr.

Mann's version is that of the politician.

This seems to me a very mistaken strain. Whenever slavery is banished

from our national jurisdiction, it will be a momentous gain, a vast

stride. But let us not mistake the half-way house for the end of the

journey. I need not say that it matters not to Abolitionists under what

special law slavery exists. Their battle lasts while it exists anywhere,

and I doubt not Mr. Sumner and Mr. Giddings feel themselves enlisted

for the whole war. I will even suppose, what neither of these gentlemen

states, that their plan includes not only that slavery shall be

abolished in the District and Territories but that the slave basis

of representation shall be struck from the Constitution, and the

slave-surrender clause construed away. But even then does Mr. Giddings

or Mr. Sumner really believe that slavery, existing in its full force in

the States, "will cease to vex our national politics?" Can they point to

any State where a powerful oligarchy, possessed of immense wealth, has

ever existed without attempting to meddle in the government? Even now,

does not manufacturing, banking, and commercial capital perpetually vex

our politics? Why should not slave capital exert the same influence?

Do they imagine that a hundred thousand men, possessed of two thousand

millions of dollars, which they feel the spirit of the age is seeking

to tear from their grasp, will not eagerly catch at all the support they

can obtain by getting the control of the government? In a land where the

dollar is almighty, "where the sin of not being rich is only atoned for

by the effort to become so," do they doubt that such an oligarchy will

generally succeed? Besides, banking and manufacturing stocks are not

urged by despair to seek a controlling influence in politics. They know

they are about equally safe, whichever party rules--that no party wishes

to legislate their rights away. Slave property knows that its being

allowed to exist depends on its having the virtual control of the

government. Its constant presence in politics is dictated, therefore,

by despair, as well as by the wish to secure fresh privileges. Money,

however, is not the only strength of the slave power. That, indeed, were

enough, in an age when capitalists are our feudal barons. But, though

driven entirely from national shelter, the slave-holders would have the

strength of old associations, and of peculiar laws in their own States,

which give those States wholly into their hands. A weaker prestige,

fewer privileges, and less comparative wealth, have enabled the British

aristocracy to rule England for two centuries, though the root of their

strength was cut at Naseby. It takes ages for deeply-rooted institutions

to die; and driving slavery into the States will hardly be our Naseby. *

* *

And Mr. Sumner "knows no better aim, under the Constitution, than to

bring back the government to where it was in 1789!" Has the voyage been

so very honest and prosperous a one, in his opinion, that his only

wish is to start again with the same ship, the same crew, and the same

sailing orders? Grant all he claims as to the state of public opinion,

the intentions of leading men, and the form of our institutions at that

period; still, with all these checks on wicked men, and helps to good

ones, here we are, in 1853, according to his own showing, ruled by

slavery, tainted to the core with slavery, and binding the infamous

Fugitive Slave Law like an honorable frontlet on our brows. The more

accurate and truthful his glowing picture of the public virtue of 1789,

the stronger my argument. If even all those great patriots, and all that

enthusiasm for justice and liberty, did not avail to keep us safe

in such a Union, what will? In such desperate circumstances, can his

statesmanship devise no better aim than to try the same experiment over

again, under precisely the same conditions? What new guaranties does he

propose to prevent the voyage from being again turned into a piratical

slave-trading cruise? None! Have sixty years taught us nothing? In 1660,

the English thought, in recalling Charles II., that the memory of that

scaffold which had once darkened the windows of Whitehall would be

guaranty enough for his good behavior. But, spite of the spectre,

Charles II. repeated Charles I., and James outdid him. Wiser by this

experience, when the nation in 1689 got another chance, they trusted

to no guaranties, but so arranged the very elements of their government

that William III. could not repeat Charles I. Let us profit by the

lesson. * * *

If all I have said to you is untrue, if I have exaggerated, explain to

me this fact. In 1831, Mr. Garrison commenced a paper advocating the

doctrine of immediate emancipation. He had against him the thirty

thousand churches and all the clergy of the country,--its wealth, its

commerce, its press. In 1831, what was the state of things? There was

the most entire ignorance and apathy on the slave question. If men

knew of the existence of slavery, it was only as a part of picturesque

Virginia life. No one preached, no one talked, no one wrote about it. No

whisper of it stirred the surface of the political sea. The church heard

of it occasionally, when some colonization agent asked funds to send

the blacks to Africa. Old school-books tainted with some antislavery

selections had passed out of use, and new ones were compiled to suit the

times. Soon as any dissent from the prevailing faith appeared, every one

set himself to crush it. The pulpits preached at it; the press denounced

it; mobs tore down houses, threw presses into the fire and the stream,

and shot the editors; religious conventions tried to smother it; parties

arrayed themselves against it. Daniel Webster boasted in the Senate,

that he had never introduced the subject of slavery to that body, and

never would. Mr. Clay, in 1839, makes a speech for the Presidency, in

which he says, that to discuss the subject of slavery is moral treason,

and that no man has a right to introduce the subject into Congress.

Mr. Benton, in 1844, laid down his platform, and he not only denies the

right, but asserts that he never has and never will discuss the subject.

Yet Mr. Clay, from 1839 down to his death, hardly made a remarkable

speech of any kind, except on slavery. Mr. Webster, having indulged now

and then in a little easy rhetoric, as at Niblo's and elsewhere, opens

his mouth in 1840, generously contributing his aid to both sides, and

stops talking about it only when death closes his lips. Mr. Benton's

six or eight speeches in the United States Senate have all been on the

subject of slavery in the Southwestern section of the country, and form

the basis of whatever claim he has to the character of a statesman, and

he owes his seat in the next Congress somewhat, perhaps, to anti-slavery

pretentions! The Whig and Democratic parties pledged themselves just as

emphatically against the antislavery discussion,--against agitation and

free speech. These men said: "It sha'n't be talked about; it won't be

talked about!" These are your statesmen!--men who understand the present

that is, and mould the future! The man who understands his own time, and

whose genius moulds the future to his views, he is a statesman, is he

not? These men devoted themselves to banks, to the tariff, to internal

improvements, to constitutional and financial questions. They said to

slavery: "Back! no entrance here! We pledge ourselves against you."

And then there came up a little printer-boy, who whipped them into

the traces, and made them talk, like Hotspur's starling, nothing

BUT slavery. He scattered all these gigantic shadows,--tariff, bank,

constitutional questions, financial questions; and slavery, like

the colossal head in Walpole's romance, came up and filled the whole

political horizon! Yet you must remember he is not a statesman! he is

a "fanatic." He has no discipline,--Mr. "Ion" says so; he does not

understand the "discipline that is essential to victory"! This man did

not understand his own time, he did not know what the future was to

be,--he was not able to shape it--he had no "prudence,"--he had no

"foresight"! Daniel Webster says, "I have never introduced this subject,

and never will,"--and dies broken-hearted because he had not been

able to talk enough about it! Benton says, "I will never speak of

slavery,"--and lives to break with his party on this issue! Clay says it

is "moral treason" to introduce the subject into Congress--and lives to

see Congress turned into an antislavery debating society, to suit the

purpose of one "too powerful individual." * * * Remember who it was

that said in 1831: "I am in earnest--I will not equivocate--I will not

excuse--I will not retreat a single inch--and I will be heard!" That

speaker has lived twenty-two years, and the complaint of twenty-three

millions of people is, "Shall we never hear of any thing but slavery?"

* * * "Well, it is all HIS fault" [pointing to Mr. Garrison]. * * * It

seems to me that such men may point to the present aspect of the nation,

to their originally avowed purpose, to the pledges and efforts of all

your great men against them, and then let you determine to which side

the credit of sagacity and statesmanship belongs. Napoleon busied

himself at St. Helena in showing how Wellington ought to have conquered

at Waterloo. The world has never got time to listen to the explanation.

Sufficient for it that the allies entered Paris.

It may sound strange to some, this claim for Mr. Garrison of a profound

statesmanship. "Men have heard him styled a mere fanatic so long

that they are incompetent to judge him fairly." "The phrases men are

accustomed," says Goethe, "to repeat incessantly, end by becoming

convictions, and ossify the organs of intelligence." I cannot accept

you, therefore, as my jury. I appeal from Festus to Csar, from the

prejudice of our streets to the common-sense of the world, and to your

children.

Every thoughtful and unprejudiced mind must see that such an evil as

slavery will yield only to the most radical treatment. If you consider

the work we have to do, you will not think us needlessly aggressive,

or that we dig down unnecessarily deep in laying the foundations of our

enterprise. A money power of two thousand millions of dollars, as the

prices of slaves now range, held by a small body of able and desperate

men; that body raised into a political aristocracy by special

constitutional provisions; cotton, the product of slave labor, forming

the basis of our whole foreign commerce, and the commercial class thus

subsidized; the press bought up, the pulpit reduced to vassalage, the

heart of the common people chilled by a bitter prejudice against the

black race; our leading men bribed, by ambition, either to silence or

open hostility;--in such a land, on what shall an Abolitionist rely?

On a few cold prayers, mere lip-service, and never from the heart? On

a church resolution, hidden often in its records, and meant only as a

decent cover for servility in daily practice? On political parties, with

their superficial influence at best, and seeking ordinarily only to use

existing prejudices to the best advantage? Slavery has deeper root here

than any aristocratic institution has in Europe; and politics is but the

common pulse-beat, of which revolution is the fever-spasm. Yet we have

seen European aristocracy survive storms which seemed to reach down

to the primal strata of European life. Shall we, then, trust to mere

politics, where even revolution has failed? How shall the stream rise

above its fountain? Where shall our church organizations or parties

get strength to attack their great parent and moulder, the slave power?

Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me

thus? The old jest of one who tried to lift himself in his own basket,

is but a tame picture of the man who imagines that, by working solely

through existing sects and parties, he can destroy slavery. Mechanics

say nothing, but an earthquake strong enough to move all Egypt can bring

down the pyramids.

Experience has confirmed these views. The Abolitionists who have acted

on them have a "short method" with all unbelievers. They have but to

point to their own success, in contrast with every other man's failure.

To waken the nation to its real state, and chain it to the consideration

of this one duty, is half the work. So much we have done. Slavery has

been made the question of this generation. To startle the South to

madness, so that every step she takes, in her blindness, is one step

more toward ruin, is much. This we have done. Witness Texas and the

Fugitive Slave Law.

To have elaborated for the nation the only plan of redemption, pointed

out the only exodus from this "sea of troubles," is much. This we claim

to have done in our motto of IMMEDIATE, UNCONDITIONAL, EMANCIPATION ON

THE SOIL. The closer any statesmanlike mind looks into the question,

the more favor our plan finds with it. The Christian asks fairly of

the infidel, "If this religion be not from God, how do you explain its

triumph, and the history of the first three centuries?" Our question

is similar. If our agitation has not been wisely planned and conducted,

explain for us the history of the last twenty years! Experience is a

safe light to walk by, and he is not a rash man who expects success in

future from the same means which have secured it in times past.

CHARLES SUMNER,

OF MASSACHUSETTS. (BORN 1811, DIED 1874.)

ON THE REPEAL OF THE FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW--

IN THE UNITED STATES SENATE, AUGUST 26, 1852.

THURSDAY, 26TH AUGUST, 1852.--The Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation

Bill being under consideration, the following amendment was moved by Mr.

Hunter, of Virginia, on the recommendation of the Committee on Finance:

"That, where the ministerial officers of the United States have or shall

incur extraordinary expense in executing the laws thereof, the payment

of which is not specifically provided for, the President of the United

States is authorized to allow the payment thereof, under the special

taxation of the District or Circuit Court of the District in which

the said services have been or shall be rendered, to be paid from the

appropriation for defraying the expenses of the Judiciary."

Mr. Sumner seized the opportunity for which he had been waiting, and at

once moved the following amendment to the amendment:

"Provided, That no such allowance shall be authorized for any expenses

incurred in executing the Act of September 18, 1850, for the surrender

of fugitives from service or labor; which said Act is hereby repealed."

On this he took the floor, and spoke as follows:

MR. PRESIDENT,

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