CHAPTER XXVI.

THE MAN.

Reasons for His Re-election--What was Accomplished--Leaning on

the People--State Papers--His Tenacity of Purpose--Washington

and Lincoln--As a Man--Favorite Poem--Autobiography--His

Modesty--A Christian--Conclusion.

What shall be said, in summing up, of Abraham Lincoln as a statesman

and a man? That from such humble beginnings, in circumstances so

adverse, he rose to be the Chief Magistrate of one of the leading

countries of the world, would were it in any other country, be

evidence of ability of the very highest order.

Here, however, so many from similar surroundings have achieved similar

results that this fact of itself does not necessarily unfold the man

clearly and fully to us. He might have been put forward for that high

station as a skillful and accomplished politician, from whose elevation

hosts of partisans counted upon their own personal advancement and

profit. Or he might have been a successful general; or one possessing

merely negative qualities, with no salient points, all objectionable

angularities rounded off till that desirable availability, which has at

times been laid hold of for the Presidency had been reached; or, yet

again, one who had for a long time been in the front ranks of an old

and triumphant party, and, therefore, as such matters have been managed

with us, admitted to have strong claims upon such party; or, lastly,

one who, having for many years schemed and plotted and labored, in

season and out of season, for the nomination, at last achieved it.

For such Presidents have been furnished us. But he was neither. And yet

the highest point to which an American may aspire he reached. Clearly,

then, there must have been something of strength and of worth in the

man.

He was reëlected, the first President since Jackson to whom that honor

had been accorded. And thirty-two years had passed--eight Presidential

terms--since Jackson’s reëlection. He was, moreover, reëlected by a

largely increased vote.

The years covered by his administration were the stormiest in American

history, “piled high,” as he himself said, “with difficulties.” No

President was ever more severely attacked, more unsparingly denounced

than he. None more belittled than he. And yet he was triumphantly

reëlected. Why? For the same reason that first brought him before the

country.

Primarily and mainly because the mass of the people had unbounded

confidence in his honesty and devotion to principle. Though these

qualities, it is pleasant to say, have been by no means rare in our

Presidents, yet Abraham Lincoln seemed so to speak, so steeped and

saturated in them that a hold was thereby obtained upon the common

mind, the like of which no other President since Washington had

secured. The bitterest opponent of his policy was constrained, if

candid, to admit, if not the existence of these qualities, at least the

prevailing popular belief in their existence.

What shall be said of him as a statesman?

That he found the fabric of our National Government rocking from turret

to foundation stone--that he left it, after four years of strife such

as, happily, the world rarely witnesses, firmly fixed, and sure; this

should serve in some sort, as an answer.

But might not this be owing, or principally so, to the ability of the

counsellors whom he gathered about him? Beyond a doubt the meed of

praise is to be shared. Yet we should remember that few Presidents have

so uniformly acted of and for themselves in matters of state policy,

as did Mr. Lincoln. Upon many questions the opinions of his Cabinet

were sought--a Cabinet representing the various shades of thought, the

various stages of progress, through which the people, of whom they

were the exponents, were passing from year to year--after obtaining

which, he would act. But, in most instances, perhaps, he struck out for

himself, after careful, conscientious reflection, launching his policy

upon unknown seas, quietly assured that truth was with him and that he

could not be mistaken. Nor was he often.

Having to feel his way along, for the most part--groping in the

dark--he could not push on so fast and far as to leave the people out

of breath or staring far in his rear. Still, it must not be understood

that he never acted against what was plainly the popular will. The

man was not of that mould. Unquestionably in his dealings with the

two leading European powers he often acted in direct opposition to

the popular wish. Nothing would have been easier than for him to have

brought a foreign war upon the country; and in such action, for a time

at least, he would have been sustained by the mass of the people. So,

too, as to vindictive measures towards the rebels. By adopting these

he would, oftentimes, have been in harmony with the general wish

for vengeance and retaliation. In both these instances--to name no

others--he chose to act counter to the current sentiment. More politic,

with a more piercing outlook than the mass, he saw the end from the

beginning, and in the one case chose to overlook what was, to his mind,

grossly wrong, and in the other, to stand up for the general interests

of humanity through all time rather than to cater to the desire of the

hour, natural and, perhaps, pardonable though it was.

What is meant is this--that, in the complications in which the country

was involved, he invariably acted, where expediency simply and not

principle was concerned, so as to feel sure that the body of the people

were with him. If failure were to result, he would have them feel that

the responsibility for it rested as much upon them as upon him. He

earnestly endeavored to point out what he judged the better way and to

bring the people to his conviction; but, if they relucted, he waited

till they should have advanced where, or nearly where, he was. This was

generally felt, and it added largely to the confidence reposed in him.

By means of it, a general acquiescence was procured in many measures

earlier than could have been gained by any other course. We Americans

are a peculiar people in some respects. We dislike to be led by any

man. Nay, we stoutly deny that we are. We are not--when we see the

leading strings.

Mr. Lincoln’s state papers in their structure and composition were

not always what a critical scholar would have desired. Some would say

they were presented quite too often in undress. The people are not

profound critics. They could comprehend every word. They felt that

they were addressed as fellow-citizens. The ordinarily formal and

stilted official documents came from his plain pen a talk to them by

the fireside. He said, moreover, exactly what he meant and as he meant,

in his own clear cogent way, void of verbiage, homely often but always

the outgrowth of a profound intelligent conviction. And, generally,

he struck home. His were the words to which “the common pulse of man

keeps time.” How studded are his papers with lucid illustration; how

transparently honest and candid, like the man, their author!

His tenacity of purpose was marked. Signing that immortal proclamation,

which made him the Liberator of America, on the afternoon of January

1st, 1863, after hours of New Year’s hand-shaking, he said to friends

that night--“The signature looks a little tremulous, for my hand was

tired, but my resolution was firm. I told them in September, if they

did not return to their allegiance and cease murdering our soldiers,

I would strike at this pillar of their strength. And now the promise

shall be kept; and not one word of it will I ever recall.” In all the

varying scenes through which as our leader he passed, avoiding the

extremes of sudden exultation or deep depression, calm and quiet,

and resolute and determined, he kept on his course, with duty as his

guiding star, an unwarped conscience his prompter. Feeling always that

he bore his life in his hands, in the perilous position in which he was

placed, as well as he who went forth to do duty in the battle-field, he

faltered not, swerved not, compromised not, retracted not, apologized

not, but pursued his way with an inflexibility as rare as it is grand

and inspiring. Others might doubt--not he. He saw the end toward which

the nation and himself must strive. That was ever present to him, and

toward that he ever worked. His mission as President was, as he so

often and so pointedly stated, to save the Union. And he saved it.

There may be those who will contend that such a result might have been

reached by other means than those he was impelled to employ. That is

theory. He reduced his to practice. For himself, he could work only in

his own harness; and patiently, persistently, painfully he worked on

till the goal was reached.

Well has Washington been styled the Father of his Country. Yet this

arose from veneration rather than from love; for the most felt such an

impassable gulf between themselves and the patriot-hero, that to them

he appeared of quite another order of beings than themselves.

Abraham Lincoln was both Saviour and Father; for he preserved whatever

was most valuable in the old and created a new order of things

possessing an inherent dignity and importance which the old never had.

And such titles the people bestow upon him through love.

The characteristics of the man stood prominently out in the statesman.

He had not one garb as an official and another as a citizen. No

change marked his transit from the chat of the drawing-room to the

consultation of cabinet. What he was in the one situation he was in the

other. His peculiar humor was not, as those who least knew him judged,

his habitual disposition. More of melancholy and sadness centred in him

than most were aware. His favorite poem--given below for the sufficient

reason that it was his favorite--attests the vein of pensiveness which

was in him. “There is one poem,” he remarked in conversation, “that is

almost continually present with me: it comes in my mind whenever I have

relief from thought and care.”

Oh, why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

Like a swift, fleeting meteor, a fast-flying cloud,

A flash of the lightning, a break of the wave,

Man passeth from life to his rest in the grave.

The leaves of the oak and the willow shall fade,

Be scattered around and together be laid;

And the young and the old, and the low and the high,

Shall moulder to dust and together shall lie.

The infant a mother attended and loved;

The mother that infant’s affection who proved;

The husband that mother and infant who blessed,

Each, all, are away to their dwellings of Rest.

The maid on whose cheek, on whose brow, in whose eye

Shone beauty and pleasure--her triumphs are by;

And the memory of those who loved her and praised,

Are alike from the minds of the living erased.

The hand of the king that the sceptre hath borne;

The brow of the priest that the mitre hath worn;

The eye of the sage and the heart of the brave,

Are hidden and lost in the depth of the grave.

The peasant whose lot was to sow and to reap;

The herdsman, who climbed with his goats up the steep;

The beggar, who wandered in search of his bread,

Have faded away like the grass that we tread.

The saint who enjoyed the communion of heaven,

The sinner who dared to remain unforgiven,

The wise and the foolish, the guilty and just,

Have quietly mingled their bones in the dust.

So the multitude goes, like the flowers or the weed

That withers away to let others succeed;

So the multitude comes, even those we behold,

To repeat every tale that has often been told.

For we are the same our fathers have been;

We see the same sights our fathers have seen--

We drink the same stream and view the same sun--

And run the same course our fathers have run.

The thoughts we are thinking our fathers would think;

From the death we are shrinking our fathers would shrink,

To the life we are clinging they also would cling;

But it speeds for us all, like a bird on the wing.

They loved, but the story we cannot unfold;

They scorned, but the heart of the haughty is cold;

They grieved, but no wail from their slumber will come;

They joyed, but the tongue of their gladness is dumb.

They died, aye! they died; and we things that are now,

Who walk on the turf that lies over their brow,

Who make in their dwelling a transient abode,

Meet the things that they met on their pilgrimage road.

Yea! hope and despondency, pleasure and pain,

We mingle together in sunshine and rain;

And the smile and the tear, the song and the dirge,

Still follow each other, like surge upon surge.

’Tis the wink of an eye, ’tis the draught of a breath;

From the blossom of health to the paleness of death,

From the gilded saloon to the bier and the shroud--

Oh why should the spirit of mortal be proud?

No one was more modest than he. Look at the record of his life as

furnished by himself, in 1858, for Lanman’s Dictionary of Congress:

“Born February 12, 1809, in Hardin county, Kentucky.

“Education Defective.

“Profession a lawyer.

“Have been a captain of volunteers in the Black Hawk war.

“Postmaster at a very small office.

“Four times a member of the Illinois Legislature.

“And was a member of the lower House of Congress.

“Yours, etc.,

A. LINCOLN.”

With no self-conceit, a pupil in the school of events, he was never

ashamed to confess himself a learner, and as such he grew and ripened.

Equable in his temperament, never wrathful or passionate, none need

have been his enemy, unless such an one were intended for an enemy of

the human race. Mild and forgiving, he never allowed the unmerited

abuse which was heaped upon him to affect in the least his intercourse

or dealings with its authors. His very failings leaned to mercy’s side.

There is scarcely a hamlet in the loyal States that does not contain

some witness of his clemency and lenity. One of the most touching

incidents connected with his obsequies at Washington was the placing

on his coffin of a wreath of flowers, sent from Boston by the sister

of a young man whom he had pardoned when sentenced to death for some

military offence.

Honored as a private citizen, happy in his domestic relations,

successful as a statesman, he was, moreover, an avowed Christian. He

often said that his reliance in the gloomiest hours was on his God, to

whom he appealed in prayer, although he had never become a professor

of religion. To a clergyman who asked him if he loved his Saviour, he

replied:

“When I was first inaugurated I did not love him; when God took my son

I was greatly impressed, but still I did not love him; but when I stood

upon the battle-field of Gettysburg I gave my heart to Christ, and I

can now say I do love the Saviour.”

Attention has already been called to the reverential spirit which

pervades his official papers; and this was the index of the man.

Leaving home, he invoked the prayers of his townsmen and friends;

during the excitements of his Washington life, he leaned upon a more

than human arm; against his pure moral character not even his bitterest

enemy could truthfully utter a word.

Such--imperfectly sketched, and at best but in rude outline--was

Abraham Lincoln. The manner of his death invests his name with a

tragic interest. This will be but temporary. But the more the man as

he was is known, the more completely an insight is obtained into his

true character, the more his private and public life is studied, the

more carefully his acts are weighed, the higher will he rise in the

estimation of all whose esteem is desirable. Coming years will detract

nought from him. He has passed into history. There no lover of honesty

and integrity, no admirer of firmness and resolution, no sympathizer

with conscientious conviction, no friend of man need fear to leave--

ABRAHAM LINCOLN.

APPENDIX.

MR. LINCOLN’S SPEECHES IN CONGRESS AND ELSEWHERE, PROCLAMATIONS,

LETTERS, ETC., NOT INCLUDED IN THE BODY OF THE WORK.

SPEECH ON THE MEXICAN WAR.

(_In Committee of the Whole House, January 12, 1848._)

Mr. Lincoln addressed the Committee as follows:

“MR. CHAIRMAN:--Some, if not all, of the gentlemen on the other

side of the House, who have addressed the Committee within the

last two days, have spoken rather complainingly, if I have

rightly understood them, of the vote given a week or ten days

ago, declaring that the war with Mexico was unnecessarily and

unconstitutionally commenced by the President. I admit that such

a vote should not be given in mere party wantonness, and that the

one given is justly censurable, if it have no other or better

foundation. I am one of those who joined in that vote; and did

so under my best impression of the _truth_ of the case. How I

got this impression, and how it may possibly be removed, I will

now try to show. When the war began, it was my opinion that all

those who, because of knowing too _little_, or because of knowing

too _much_, could not conscientiously approve the conduct of the

President (in the beginning of it), should, nevertheless, as good

citizens and patriots, remain silent on that point, at least

till the war should be ended. Some leading Democrats, including

ex-President Van Buren, have taken this same view, as I understand

them; and I adhered to it, and acted upon it, until since I

took my seat here; and I think I should still adhere to it, were

it not that the President and his friends will not allow it to

be so. Besides, the continual effort of the President to argue

every silent vote given for supplies into an indorsement of the

justice and wisdom of his conduct; besides that singularly candid

paragraph in his late message, in which he tells us that Congress,

with great unanimity (only two in the Senate and fourteen in the

House dissenting) had declared that ‘by the act of the Republic

of Mexico a state of war exists between that Government and the

United States;’ when the same journals that informed him of this,

also informed him that, when that declaration stood disconnected

from the question of supplies, sixty-seven in the House, and not

fourteen, merely, voted against it; besides this open attempt to

prove by telling the _truth_, what he could not prove by telling

the _whole truth_, demanding of all who will not submit to be

misrepresented, in justice to themselves, to speak out; besides all

this, one of my colleagues [Mr. Richardson], at a very early day in

the session, brought in a set of resolutions, expressly indorsing

the original justice of the war on the part of the President.

Upon these resolutions, when they shall be put on their passage,

I shall be _compelled_ to vote; so that I can not be silent if I

would. Seeing this, I went about preparing myself to give the vote

understandingly, when it should come. I carefully examined the

President’s messages, to ascertain what he himself had said and

proved upon the point. The result of this examination was to make

the impression, that, taking for true all the President states as

facts, he falls far short of proving his justification; and that

the President would have gone further with his proof, if it had not

been for the small matter that the _truth_ would not permit him.

Under the impression thus made I gave the vote before mentioned. I

propose now to give, concisely, the process of the examination I

made, and how I reached the conclusion I did.

“The President, in his first message of May, 1846, declares that

the soil was _ours_ on which hostilities were commenced by Mexico;

and he repeats that declaration, almost in the same language, in

each successive annual message--thus showing that he esteems that

point a highly essential one. In the importance of that point I

entirely agree with the President. To my judgment, it is the _very

point_ upon which he should be justified or condemned. In his

message of December, 1846, it seems to have occurred to him, as is

certainly true, that title, ownership to soil, or any thing else,

is not a simple fact, but is a conclusion following one or more

simple facts; and that it was incumbent upon him to present the

facts from which he concluded the soil was ours on which the first

blood of the war was shed.

“Accordingly, a little below the middle of page twelve, in the

message last referred to, he enters upon that task; forming an

issue and introducing testimony, extending the whole to a little

below the middle of page fourteen. Now, I propose to try to show

that the whole of this--issue and evidence--is, from beginning to

end, the sheerest deception. The issue, as he presents it, is in

these words: ‘But there are those who, conceding all this to be

true, assume the ground that the true western boundary of Texas

is the Nueces, instead of the Rio Grande; and that, therefore, in

marching our army to the east bank of the latter river, we passed

the Texan line, and invaded the territory of Mexico.’ Now, this

issue is made up of two affirmatives and no negative. The main

deception of it is, that it assumes as true that _one_ river or the

_other_ is necessarily the boundary, and cheats the superficial

thinker entirely out of the idea that _possibly_ the boundary is

somewhere _between_ the two, and not actually at either. A further

deception is, that it will let in _evidence_ which a true issue

would exclude. A true issue made by the President would be about as

follows: ‘I say the soil _was ours_ on which the first blood was

shed; there are those who say it was not.’

“I now proceed to examine the President’s evidence, as applicable

to such an issue. When that evidence is analyzed it is all included

in the following propositions:

“1. That the Rio Grande was the western boundary of Louisiana, as

we purchased it of France in 1803.

“2. That the Republic of Texas always _claimed_ the Rio Grande as

her western boundary.

“3. That, by various acts, she had claimed it _on paper_.

“4. That Santa Anna, in his treaty with Texas, recognized the Rio

Grande as her boundary.

“5. That Texas _before_, and the United States _after_ annexation,

had _exercised_ jurisdiction _beyond_ the Nueces, _between_ the two

rivers.

“6. That our Congress _understood_ the boundary of Texas to extend

beyond the Nueces.

“Now for each of these in its turn:

“His first item is, that the Rio Grande was the western boundary

of Louisiana, as we purchased it of France in 1803; and, seeming

to expect this to be disputed, he argues over the amount of nearly

a page to prove it true; at the end of which he lets us know that,

by the treaty of 1819, we sold to Spain the whole country, from

the Rio Grande eastward to the Sabine. Now, admitting for the

present, that the Rio Grande was the boundary of Louisiana, what,

under heaven, had that to do with the _present_ boundary between

us and Mexico? How, Mr. Chairman, the line that once divided your

land from mine can _still_ be the boundary between us _after_ I

have sold my land to you, is, to me, beyond all comprehension. And

how any man, with an honest purpose only of proving the truth,

could ever have _thought_ of introducing such a fact to prove such

an issue, is equally incomprehensible. The outrage upon common

_right_, of seizing as our own what we have once sold, merely

because it _was_ ours _before_ we sold it, is only equaled by the

outrage on common _sense_ of any attempt to justify it.

“The President’s next piece of evidence is, that ‘The Republic

of Texas always _claimed_ this river (Rio Grande) as her western

boundary.’ That is not true, in fact. Texas _has_ claimed it,

but she has not _always_ claimed it. There is, at least, one

distinguished exception. Her State Constitution--the public’s

most solemn and well-considered act; that which may, without

impropriety, be called her last will and testament, revoking all

others--makes no such claim. But suppose she had always claimed it.

Has not Mexico always claimed the contrary? So that there is but

_claim_ against _claim_, leaving nothing proved until we get back

of the claims, and find which has the better _foundation_.

“Though not in the order in which the President presents his

evidence, I now consider that class of his statements, which are,

in substance, nothing more than that Texas has by various acts

of her Convention and Congress, claimed the Rio Grande as her

boundary--_on paper_. I mean here what he says about the fixing

of the Rio Grande as her boundary, in her old Constitution (not

her State Constitution), about forming congressional districts,

counties, etc. Now, all this is but naked _claim_; and what I have

already said about claims is strictly applicable to this. If I

should claim your land by word of mouth, that certainly would not

make it mine; and if I were to claim it by a deed which I had made

myself, and with which you had nothing to do, the claim would be

quite the same in substance, or rather in utter nothingness.

“I next consider the President’s statement that Santa Anna, in

his _treaty_ with Texas, recognized the Rio Grande as the western

boundary of Texas. Besides the position so often taken that Santa

Anna, while a prisoner of war--a captive--_could_ not bind Mexico

by a treaty, which I deem conclusive; besides this, I wish to say

something in relation to this treaty so called by the President,

with Santa Anna. If any man would like to be amused by a sight at

that _little_ thing, which the President calls by that _big_ name,

he can have it by turning to Niles’ Register, volume 50, page 386.

And if any one should suppose that Niles’ Register is a curious

repository of so mighty a document as a solemn treaty between

nations, I can only say that I learned, to a tolerable degree of

certainty, by inquiry at the State Department, that the President

himself never saw it anywhere else. By the way, I believe I should

not err if I were to declare, that during the first ten years of

the existence of that document, it was never by anybody _called_

a treaty; that it was never so called till the President, in his

extremity, attempted, by so calling it, to wring something from it

in justification of himself in connection with the Mexican war. It

has none of the distinguishing features of a treaty. It does not

call itself a treaty. Santa Anna does not therein assume to bind

Mexico; he assumes only to act as President, Commander-in-chief

of the Mexican army and navy; stipulates that the then present

hostilities should cease, and that he would not _himself_ take up

arms, nor _influence_ the Mexican people to take up arms, against

Texas, during the existence of the war of independence. He did

not recognize the independence of Texas; he did not assume to put

an end to the war, but clearly indicated his expectation of its

continuance; he did not say one word about boundary, and most

probably never thought of it. It _is_ stipulated therein that the

Mexican forces should evacuate the territory of Texas, _passing

to the other side of the Rio Grande_; and in another article it

is stipulated, that to prevent collisions between the armies, the

Texan army should not approach nearer than five leagues--of _what_

is not said--but clearly, from the object stated, it is of the Rio

Grande. Now, if this is a treaty recognizing the Rio Grande as a

boundary of Texas, it contains the singular feature of stipulating

that Texas shall not go within five leagues of _her own_ boundary.

“Next comes the evidence that Texas before annexation, and the

United States afterward, exercising jurisdiction beyond the

Nueces, and _between_ the two rivers. This actual _exercise_ of

jurisdiction is the very class or quality of evidence we want.

It is excellent so far as it goes; but does it go far enough?

He tells us it went _beyond_ the Nueces, but he does not tell

us it went _to_ the Rio Grande. He tells us jurisdiction was

exercised _between_ the two rivers, but he does not tell us

it was exercised over _all_ the territory between them. Some

simple-minded people think it possible to cross one river and go

beyond it, without going all the way to the next; that jurisdiction

may be exercised _between_ two rivers without covering _all_

the country between them. I know a man, not very unlike myself,

who exercises jurisdiction over a piece of land between the

Wabash and the Mississippi; and yet so far is this from being

_all_ there is between those rivers, that it is just one hundred

and fifty-two feet long by fifty wide, and no part of it much

within a hundred miles of either. He has a neighbor between him

and the Mississippi--that is, just across the street, in that

direction--whom, I am sure, he could neither _persuade_ nor _force_

to give up his habitation; but which, nevertheless he could

certainly annex, if it were to be done, by merely standing on his

own side of the street and claiming it, or even sitting down and

writing a deed for it.

“But next, the President tells us, the Congress of the United

States _understood_ the State of Texas they admitted into the

Union to extend _beyond_ the Nueces. Well, I suppose they did--I

certainly so understand it--but how _far_ beyond? That Congress

did _not_ understand it to extend clear to the Rio Grande, is

quite certain by the fact of their joint resolutions for admission

expressly leaving all questions of boundary to future adjustment.

And, it may be added, that Texas herself is proved to have had the

same understanding of it that our Congress had, by the fact of the

exact conformity of her new Constitution to those resolutions.

“I am now through the whole of the President’s evidence; and it

is a singular fact, that if any one should declare the President

sent the army into the midst of a settlement of Mexican people,

who had never submitted, by consent or by force to the authority

of Texas or of the United States, and that _there_, and _thereby_,

the first blood of the war was shed, there is not one word in

all the President has said which would either admit or deny

the declaration. In this strange omission chiefly consists the

deception of the President’s evidence--an omission which, it does

seem to me, could scarcely have occurred but by design. My way

of living leads me to be about the courts of justice; and there

I have sometimes seen a good lawyer, struggling for his client’s

neck, in a desperate case, employing every artifice to work round,

befog, and cover up with many words some position pressed upon him

by the prosecution, which he _dared_ not admit, and yet _could_

not deny. Party bias may help to make it appear so; but, with all

the allowance I can make for such bias, it still does appear to me

that just such and from just such necessity, are the President’s

struggles in this case.

“Some time after my colleague (Mr. Richardson) introduced the

resolutions I have mentioned, I introduced a preamble, resolution,

and interrogatories, intended to draw the President out, if

possible, on this hitherto untrodden ground. To show their

relevancy, I propose to state my understanding of the true rule

for ascertaining the boundary between Texas and Mexico. It is,

that _wherever_ Texas was _exercising_ jurisdiction was hers; and

wherever Mexico was exercising jurisdiction was hers: and that

whatever separated the actual exercise of jurisdiction of the one

from that of the other, was the true boundary between them. If,

as is probably true, Texas was exercising jurisdiction along the

western bank of the Nueces, and Mexico was exercising it along

the eastern bank of the Rio Grande, then _neither_ river was

the boundary, but the uninhabited country between the two was.

The extent of our territory in that region depended not on any

_treaty-fixed_ boundary (for no treaty had attempted it), but on

revolution. Any people anywhere, being inclined and having the

power, have the _right_ to rise up and shake off the existing

government, and form a new one that suits them better. This is a

most valuable, a most sacred right--a right which, we hope and

believe, is to liberate the world. Nor is this right confined to

cases in which the whole people of an existing government may

choose to exercise it. Any portion of such people that _can_ may

revolutionize, and make their _own_ of so much of their territory

as they inhabit. More than this, a _majority_ of any portion

of such people may revolutionize, putting down a _minority_,

intermingled with, or near about them, who may oppose their

movements. Such minority was precisely the case of the Tories of

our own Revolution. It is a quality of revolutions not to go by old

lines, or old laws; but to break up both and make new ones. As to

the country now in question, we bought it of France in 1803, and

sold it to Spain in 1819, according to the President’s statement.

After this, all Mexico, including Texas, revolutionized against

Spain; and still later, Texas revolutionized against Mexico. In my

view, just so far as she carried her revolution, by obtaining the

_actual_, willing or unwilling submission of the people, so _far_

the country was hers, and no further.

“Now, sir, for the purpose of obtaining the very best evidence

as to whether Texas had actually carried her revolution to the

place where the hostilities of the present war commenced, let

the President answer the interrogatories I proposed, as before

mentioned, or some other similar ones. Let him answer fully, fairly

and candidly. Let him answer with _facts_, and not with arguments.

Let him remember he sits where Washington sat; and, so remembering,

let him answer as Washington would answer. As a nation _should_

not, and the Almighty _will_ not, be evaded, so let him attempt no

evasion, no equivocation. And if, so answering, he can show that

the soil was ours where the first blood of the war was shed--that

it was not within an inhabited country, or, if within such, that

the inhabitants had submitted themselves to the civil authority of

Texas, or of the United States, and that the same is true of the

site of Fort Brown--then I am with him for his justification. In

that case, I shall be most happy to reverse the vote I gave the

other day. I have a selfish motive for desiring that the President

may do this; I expect to give some votes, in connection with the

war, which, without his so doing, will be of doubtful propriety,

in my own judgment, but which will be free from the doubt if he

does so. But if he _can not or will not_ do this,--if, on any

pretence, or no pretence, he shall refuse or omit it,--then I shall

be fully convinced, of what I more than suspect already, that he

is deeply conscious of being in the wrong; that he feels the blood

of this war, like the blood of Abel, is crying to heaven against

him; that he ordered General Taylor into the midst of a peaceful

Mexican settlement, purposely to bring on a war; that originally

having some strong motive--what I will not stop now to give my

opinion concerning--to involve the two countries in a war, and

trusting to escape scrutiny by fixing the public gaze upon the

exceeding brightness of military glory--that attractive rainbow

that rises in showers of blood--that serpent’s eye that charms to

destroy--he plunged into it, and has swept _on_ and _on_, till,

disappointed in his calculation of the ease with which Mexico might

be subdued, he now finds himself he knows not where. How like the

half insane mumbling of a fever dream is the whole war part of

the late message! At one time telling us that Mexico has nothing

whatever that we can get but territory; at another, showing us how

we can support the war by levying contributions on Mexico. At one

time urging the national honor, the security of the future, the

prevention of foreign interference, and even the good of Mexico

herself, as among the objects of the war; at another, telling

us that, ‘to reject indemnity by refusing to accept a cession of

territory, would be to abandon all our just demands, and to wage

the war, bearing all its expenses, _without a purpose or definite

object_.’ So, then, the national honor, security of the future, and

everything but territorial indemnity, may be considered the _no

purposes_ and _indefinite_ objects of the war! But having it now

settled that territorial indemnity is the only object, we are urged

to seize, by legislation here, all that he was content to take a

few months ago, and the whole province of Lower California to boot,

and to still carry on the war--to take _all_ we are fighting for,

and _still_ fight on. Again, the President is resolved, under all

circumstances, to have full territorial indemnity for the expenses

of the war; but he forgets to tell us how we are to get the

_excess_ after those expenses shall have surpassed the value of the

_whole_ of the Mexican territory. So, again, he insists that the

separate national existence of Mexico shall be maintained; but he

does not tell us _how_ this can be done after we shall have taken

_all_ her territory. Lest the question I here suggest be considered

speculative merely, let me be indulged a moment in trying to show

they are not.

“The war has gone on some twenty months; for the expenses of which,

together with an inconsiderable old score, the President now claims

about one-half of the Mexican territory, and that by far the better

half, so far as concerns our ability to make any thing out of it.

It is comparatively uninhabited; so that we could establish land

offices in it, and raise some money in that way. But the other half

is already inhabited, as I understand it, tolerably densely for the

nature of the country; and all its lands, or all that are valuable,

already appropriated as private property. How, then, are we to make

any thing out of these lands with this incumbrance on them, or how

remove the incumbrance? I suppose no one will say that we shall

kill the people, or drive them out, or make slaves of them, or

even confiscate their property? How, then, can we make much out of

this part of the territory? If the prosecution of the war has, in

expenses, already equalled the _better_ half of the country, how

long its future prosecution will be in equalling the less valuable

half is not a _speculative_ but a _practical_ question, pressing

closely upon us; and yet it is a question which the President seems

never to have thought of.

“As to the mode of terminating the war and securing peace, the

President is equally wandering and indefinite. First, it is to be

done by a more vigorous prosecution of the war in the vital parts

of the enemy’s country; and, after apparently talking himself tired

on this point, the President drops down into a half despairing

tone, and tells us, that ‘with a people distracted and divided by

contending factions, and a government subject to constant changes,

by successive revolutions, _the continued success of our arms

may fail to obtain a satisfactory peace_.’ Then he suggests the

propriety of wheedling the Mexican people to desert the counsels

of their own leaders, and, trusting in our protection, to set

up a government from which we can secure a satisfactory peace,

telling us that ‘_this may become the only mode of obtaining such a

peace_.’ But soon he falls into doubt of this too, and then drops

back on to the already half abandoned ground of ‘more vigorous

prosecution.’ All this shows that the President is in no wise

satisfied with his own positions. First, he takes up one, and, in

attempting to argue us into it, he argues himself _out_ of it;

then seizes another, and goes through the same process; and then,

confused at being able to think of nothing new, he snatches up the

old one again, which he has some time before cast off. His mind,

tasked beyond its power, is running hither and thither, like some

tortured creature on a burning surface, finding no such position on

which it can settle down and be at ease.

“Again, it is a singular omission in this message, that it nowhere

intimates _when_ the President expects the war to terminate. At

its beginning, General Scott was, by this same President driven

into disfavor, if not disgrace, for intimating that peace could

not be conquered in less than three or four months. But now at the

end of about twenty months, during which time our arms have given

us the most splendid successes--every department, and every part,

land and water, officers and privates, regulars and volunteers,

doing all that men could do, and hundreds of things which it had

ever before been thought that men could _not_ do; after all this,

this same President gives us a long message without showing us that

_as to the end_, he has himself even an imaginary conception. As

I have before said, he knows not where he is. He is a bewildered,

confounded, and miserably-perplexed man. God grant he may be able

to show that there is not something about his conscience more

painful than all his mental perplexity.”

* * * * *

SPEECH ON INTERNAL IMPROVEMENTS.

(_In Committee of the Whole House, June 20, 1848._)

Mr. Lincoln said:

“MR. CHAIRMAN:--I wish at all times in no way to practice any fraud

upon the House or the Committee, and I also desire to do nothing

which may be very disagreeable to any of the members. I therefore

state, in advance, that my object in taking the floor is to make a

speech on the general subject of internal improvements; and if I

am out of order in doing so I give the Chair an opportunity of so

deciding, and I will take my seat.”

The Chair.--“I will not undertake to anticipate what the gentleman

may say on the subject of internal improvements. He will,

therefore, proceed in his remarks, and if any question of order

shall be made, the Chair will then decide it.”

Mr. Lincoln.--“At an early day of this session the President sent

to us what may properly be termed an internal improvement veto

message. The late Democratic Convention which sat at Baltimore, and

which nominated General Cass for the Presidency, adopted a set of

resolutions, now called the Democratic platform, among which is one

in these words:

“‘That the Constitution does not confer upon the General Government

the power to commence and carry on a general system of internal

improvements.’

“General Cass, in his letter accepting the nomination, holds this

language:

“‘I have carefully read the resolutions of the Democratic National

Convention, laying down the platform of our political faith, and I

adhere to them as firmly as I approve them cordially.’

“These things, taken together, show that the question of internal

improvements is now more distinctly made--has become more intense,

than at any former period. It can no longer be avoided. The

veto message and the Baltimore resolution I understand to be,

in substance, the same thing; the latter being the more general

statement, of which the former is the amplification--the bill of

particulars. While I know there are many Democrats, on this floor

and elsewhere, who disapprove that message, I understand that all

who shall vote for General Cass will thereafter be considered

as having approved it, as having indorsed all its doctrines. I

suppose all, or nearly all, the Democrats will vote for him. Many

of them will do so, not because they like his position on this

question, but because they prefer him, being wrong in this, to

another, whom they consider further wrong on other questions. In

this way the internal improvement Democrats are to be, by a sort

of forced consent, carried over, and arrayed against themselves

on this measure of policy. General Cass, once elected, will not

trouble himself to make a Constitutional argument, or, perhaps,

any argument at all, when he shall veto a river or harbor bill. He

will consider it a sufficient answer to all Democratic murmurs, to

point to Mr. Polk’s message, and to the “Democratic platform.” This

being the case, the question of improvements is verging to a final

crisis; and the friends of the policy must now battle, and battle

manfully, or surrender all. In this view, humble as I am, I wish to

review, and contest as well as I may, the general positions of this

veto message. When I say _general_ positions, I mean to exclude

from consideration so much as relates to the present embarrassed

state of the Treasury, in consequence of the Mexican war.

“Those general positions are: That internal improvements ought not

to be made by the General Government:

“1. Because they would overwhelm the treasury;

“2. Because, while their _burdens_ would be general, their

_benefits_ would be _local_ and _partial_, involving an obnoxious

inequality;

“3. Because they would be unconstitutional;

“4. Because the States may do enough by the levy and collection of

tonnage duties; or, if not,

“5. That the Constitution may be amended.

“‘Do nothing at all, lest you do something wrong,’ is the sum

of these positions--is the sum of this message; and this, with

the exception of what is said about Constitutionality, applying

as forcibly to making improvements by State authority as by the

national authority. So that we must abandon the improvements of the

country altogether, by any and every authority, or we must resist

and repudiate the doctrines of this message. Let us attempt the

latter.

“The first position is, that a system of internal improvement would

overwhelm the treasury.

“That, in such a system, there is a _tendency_ to undue expansion,

is not to be denied. Such tendency is founded in the nature of the

subject. A member of Congress will prefer voting for a bill which

contains an appropriation for his district, to voting for one which

does not; and when a bill shall be expanded till every district

shall be provided for, that it will be too greatly expanded is

obvious. But is this any more true in Congress than in a State

Legislature? If a member of Congress must have an appropriation

for his district, so a member of a Legislature must have one for

his county; and if one will overwhelm the national treasury, so

the other will overwhelm the State treasury. Go where we will,

the difficulty is the same. Allow it to drive us from the halls

of Congress, and it will just as easily drive us from the State

Legislatures. Let us, then, grapple with it, and test its strength.

Let us, judging of the future by the past, ascertain whether there

may not be, in the discretion of Congress, a sufficient power to

limit and restrain this expansive tendency within reasonable and

proper bounds. The President himself values the evidence of the

past. He tells us that at a certain point of our history, more

than two hundred millions of dollars had been _applied for_, to

make improvements, and this he does to prove that the treasury

would be overwhelmed by such a system. Why did he not tell us how

much was _granted_? Would not that have been better evidence?

Let us turn to it, and see what it proves. In the message, the

President tells us that ‘during the four succeeding years, embraced

by the administration of President Adams, the power not only

to appropriate money, but to apply it, under the direction and

authority of the General Government, as well to the construction

of roads as to the improvement of harbors and rivers, was fully

asserted and exercised.’

“This, then, was the period of greatest enormity. These, if any,

must have been the days of the two hundred millions. And how much

do you suppose was really expended for improvements during those

four years? Two hundred millions? One hundred? Fifty? Ten? Five?

No, sir, less than two millions. As shown by authentic documents,

the expenditures on improvements during 1825, 1826, 1827 and 1828,

amounted to $1,879,627 01. These four years were the period of Mr.

Adams’ administration, nearly, and substantially. This fact shows

that when the power to make improvements was ‘fully asserted and

exercised,’ the Congress _did_ keep within reasonable limits; and

what _has_ been done it seems to me, _can_ be done again.

“Now for the second position of the message, namely, that the

burdens of improvements would be _general_, while their _benefits_

would be _local_ and _partial_, involving an obnoxious inequality.

That there is some degree of truth in this position I shall not

deny. No commercial object of Government patronage can be so

exclusively _general_, as not to be of some peculiar _local_

advantage; but on the other hand, nothing is so _local_ as not to

be of some general advantage. The navy, as I understand it, was

established, and is maintained, at a great annual expense, partly

to be ready for war, when war shall come, but partly also, and

perhaps chiefly, for the protection of our commerce on the high

seas. This latter object is, for all I can see, in principle, the

same as internal improvements. The driving a pirate from the track

of commerce on the broad ocean, and the removing a snag from its

more narrow path in the Mississippi river, can not, I think, be

distinguished in principle. Each is done to save life and property,

and for nothing else. The navy, then, is the most general in its

benefits of all this class of objects; and yet even the navy is of

some peculiar advantage to Charleston, Baltimore, Philadelphia,

New York and Boston, beyond what it is to the interior towns of

Illinois. The next most general object I can think of, would be

improvements on the Mississippi river and its tributaries. They

touch thirteen of our States--Pennsylvania, Virginia, Kentucky,

Tennessee, Mississippi, Louisiana, Arkansas, Missouri, Illinois,

Indiana, Ohio, Wisconsin, and Iowa. Now, I suppose it will not be

denied, that these thirteen States are a little more interested in

improvements on that great river than are the remaining seventeen.

These instances of the navy, and the Mississippi river show clearly

that there is something of local advantage in the most general

objects. But the converse is also true. Nothing is so _local_

as not to be of some _general_ benefit. Take, for instance, the

Illinois and Michigan canal. Considered apart from its effects,

it is perfectly local. Every inch of it is within the State of

Illinois. That canal was first opened for business last April. In a

very few days we were all gratified to learn, among other things,

that sugar had been carried from New Orleans, through the canal,

to Buffalo, in New York. This sugar took this route, doubtless,

because it was cheaper than the old route. Supposing the benefit in

the reduction of the cost of carriage to be shared between seller

and buyer, the result is, that the New Orleans merchant sold his

sugar a little _dearer_, and the people of Buffalo sweetened their

coffee a little _cheaper_ than before; a benefit resulting _from_

the canal, not to Illinois, where the canal _is_, but to Louisiana

and New York, where the canal is _not_. In other transactions

Illinois will, of course, have her share, and perhaps the larger

share too, in the benefits of the canal; but the instance of the

sugar clearly shows that the _benefits_ of an improvement are by no

means confined to the particular locality of the improvement itself.

“The just conclusion from all this is, that if the nation refuse to

make improvements of the more general kind, because their benefits

may be somewhat local, a State may for the same reason, refuse to

make an improvement of a local kind, because its benefits may be

somewhat general. A State may well say to the Nation: ‘If you will

do nothing for me, I will do nothing for you.’ Thus it is seen,

that if this argument of ‘inequality’ is sufficient anywhere, it is

sufficient everywhere, and puts an end to improvements altogether.

I hope and believe, that if both the Nation and the States would,

in faith, in their respective spheres, do what they could in the

way of improvements, what of inequality might be produced in one

place might be compensated in another and that the sum of the

whole might not be very unequal. But suppose, after all, there

should be some degree of inequality: inequality is certainly never

to be embraced for its own sake; but is every good thing to be

discarded which may be inseparably connected with some degree of

it? If so, we must discard all government. This Capitol is built

at the public expense, for the public benefit; but does any one

doubt that it is of some peculiar local advantage to the property

holders and business people of Washington? Shall we remove it for

this reason? And if so, where shall we set it down, and be free

from the difficulty? To make sure of our object shall we locate

it nowhere, and leave Congress hereafter to hold its sessions as

the loafer lodged, ‘in spots about?’ I make no special allusion

to the present President when I say, there are few stronger cases

in this world of ‘burden to the many, and benefit to the few’--of

‘inequality’--than the Presidency itself is by some thought to be.

An honest laborer digs coal at about seventy cents a day, while the

President digs abstractions at about seventy dollars a day. The

_coal_ is clearly worth more than the _abstractions_, and yet what

a monstrous inequality in the prices! Does the President, for this

reason, propose to abolish the Presidency? He _does_ not, and he

_ought_ not. The true rule, in determining to embrace or reject any

thing, is not whether it have _any_ evil in it, but whether it have

more of evil than of good. There are few things _wholly_ evil or

_wholly_ good; almost every thing, especially of government policy,

is an inseparable compound of the two; so that our best judgment

of the preponderance between them is continually demanded. On this

principle the President, his friends, and the world generally, act

on most subjects. Why not apply it, then, upon this question? Why,

as to improvements, magnify the _evil_, and stoutly refuse to see

any good in them?

“Mr. Chairman, on the third position of the message (the

Constitutional question) I have not much to say. Being the man

I am, and speaking when I do, I feel that in any attempt at an

original, Constitutional argument, I should not be, and ought

not to be, listened to patiently. The ablest and the best of men

have gone over the whole ground long ago. I shall attempt but

little more than a brief notice of what some of them have said.

In relation to Mr. Jefferson’s views, I read from Mr. Polk’s veto

message:

“‘President Jefferson, in his message to Congress in 1806,

recommended an amendment of the Constitution, with a view to apply

an anticipated surplus in the treasury ‘to the great purposes of

the public education, roads, rivers, canals, and such other objects

of public improvements as it may be thought proper to add to the

Constitutional enumeration of the Federal powers.’ And he adds: ‘I

suppose an amendment to the Constitution, by consent of the States,

necessary because the objects now recommended are not among those

enumerated in the Constitution, and to which it permits the public

moneys to be applied.’ In 1825, he repeated, in his published

letters, the opinion that no such power had been conferred upon

Congress.’

“I introduce this, not to controvert, just now, the Constitutional

opinion, but to show, that on the question of _expediency_, Mr.

Jefferson’s opinion was against the present President--that this

opinion of Mr. Jefferson, in one branch at least, is, in the hands

of Mr. Polk, like McFingal’s gun:

“‘Bears wide and kicks the owner over.’

“But, to the Constitutional question. In 1826, Chancellor Kent

first published his Commentaries on American Law. He devoted a

portion of one of the lectures to the question of the authority of

Congress to appropriate public moneys for internal improvements.

He mentions that the question had never been brought under judicial

consideration, and proceeds to give a brief summary of the

discussions it had undergone between the legislative and executive

branches of the Government. He shows that the legislative branch

had usually been _for_, and the executive _against_, the power,

till the period of Mr. J. Q. Adams’ administration; at which point

he considers the executive influence as withdrawn from opposition,

and added to the support of the power. In 1844, the Chancelor

published a new edition of his Commentaries, in which he adds some

notes of what had transpired on the question since 1826. I have not

time to read the original text, or the notes, but the whole may

be found on page 267, and the two or three following pages of the

first volume of the edition of 1844. As what Chancellor Kent seems

to consider the sum of the whole, I read from one of the notes:

“‘Mr. Justice Story, in his Commentaries on the Constitution of

the United States, vol. 2, page 429-440, and again, page 519-538,

has stated at large the arguments for and against the proposition

that Congress have a Constitutional authority to lay taxes, and

to apply the power to regulate commerce, as a means directly to

encourage and protect domestic manufactures; and, without giving

any opinion of his own on the contested doctrine, he has left the

reader to draw his own conclusion. I should think, however, from

the arguments as stated, that every mind which has taken no part

in the discussions, and felt no prejudice or territorial bias on

either side of the question, would deem the arguments in favor of

the Congressional power vastly superior.’

“It will be seen, that in this extract, the power to make

improvements is not directly mentioned; but by examining the

context, both of Kent and of Story, it will appear that the power

mentioned in the extract and the power to make improvements, are

regarded as identical. It is not to be denied that many great and

good men have been _against_ the power; but it is insisted that

quite as many, as great, and as good, have been _for_ it; and

it is shown that, on a full survey of the whole, Chancelor Kent

was of opinion that the arguments of the latter were _vastly_

superior. This is but the opinion of a man; but who was that man?

He was one of the ablest and most learned lawyers of his age, or

of any other age. It is no disparagement to Mr. Polk, nor, indeed,

to any one who devotes much time to politics, to be placed far

behind Chancelor Kent as a lawyer. His attitude was most favorable

to correct conclusions. He wrote coolly and in retirement. He

was struggling to rear a durable monument of fame; and he well

knew that _truth_ and thoroughly sound reasoning were the only

sure foundations. Can the party opinion of a party President, on

a law question, as this purely is, be at all compared or set in

opposition to that of such a man, in such an attitude as Chancelor

Kent?

“This Constitutional question will probably never be better settled

than it is, until it shall pass under judicial consideration; but

I do think that no man who is clear on this question of expediency

need feel his conscience much pricked upon this.

“Mr. Chairman, the President seems to think that enough may be

done in the way of improvements, by means of tonnage duties, under

State authority, with the consent of the General Government. Now,

I suppose this matter of tonnage duties is well enough in its own

sphere. I suppose it may be efficient, and perhaps _sufficient_,

to make slight improvements and repairs in harbors already in use,

and not much out of repair. But if I have any correct general idea

of it, it must be wholly inefficient for any generally beneficent

purposes of improvement. I know very little, or rather nothing at

all, of the practical matter of levying and collecting tonnage

duties; but I suppose one of its principles must be, to lay a duty,

for the improvement of any particular harbor, _upon the tonnage

coming into that harbor_. To do otherwise--to collect money in

_one_ harbor to be expended in improvements in _another_--would be

an extremely aggravated form of that inequality which the President

so much deprecates. If I be right in this, how could we make any

entirely new improvements by means of tonnage duties? How make a

road, a canal, or clear a greatly obstructed river? The idea that

we could, involves the same absurdity of the Irish bull about the

new boots: ‘I shall never git ‘em on,’ says Patrick, ’till I wear

’em a day or two, and stretch ’em a little.’ We shall never make

a canal by tonnage duties, until it shall already have been made

awhile, so the tonnage can get into it.

“After all, the President concludes that possibly there may be some

great objects of improvements which can not be effected by tonnage

duties, and which, therefore, may be expedient for the General

Government to take in hand. Accordingly, he suggests, in case any

such be discovered, the propriety of amending the Constitution.

Amend it for what? If, like Mr. Jefferson, the President thought

improvements _expedient_ but not Constitutional, it would be

natural enough for him to recommend such an amendment; but hear

what he says in this very message:

“‘In view of these portentous consequences, I can not but think

that this course of legislation should be arrested, even were there

nothing to forbid it in the fundamental laws of our Union.’

“For what, then, would _he_ have the Constitution amended? With

_him_ it is a proposition to remove _one_ impediment, merely to

be met by _others_, which, in his opinion, can not be removed--to

enable Congress to do what, in his opinion, they ought not to do if

they could.”

[Here Mr. Meade, of Virginia, inquired if Mr. L. understood the

President to be opposed, on grounds of expediency, to any and every

improvement?]

To which Mr. Lincoln answered: “In the very part of his message

of which I am now speaking, I understand him as giving some vague

expressions in favor of some possible objects of improvement; but,

in doing so, I understand him to be directly in the teeth of his

own arguments in other parts of it. Neither the President, nor

any one, can possibly specify an improvement, which shall not be

clearly liable to one or another of the objections he has urged on

the score of expediency; I have shown, and might show again, that

no work--no object--can be so general, as to dispense its benefits

with precise equality; and this inequality is chief among the

‘portentous consequences’ for which he declares that improvements

should be arrested. No, sir; when the President intimates that

something in the way of improvements may properly be done by the

General Government, he is shrinking from the conclusions to which

his own arguments would force him. He feels that the improvements

of this broad and goodly land are a mighty interest; and he is

unwilling to confess to the people, or perhaps to himself, that

he has built an argument which, when pressed to its conclusion,

entirely annihilates this interest.

“I have already said that no one who is satisfied of the expediency

of making improvements need be much uneasy in his conscience about

its Constitutionality. I wish now to submit a few remarks on the

general proposition of amending the Constitution. As a General

rule, I think we would do much better to let it alone. No slight

occasion should tempt us to touch it. Better not take the first

step, which may lead to a habit of altering it. Better rather

habituate ourselves to think of it as unalterable. It can scarcely

be made better than it is. New provisions would introduce new

difficulties, and thus create and increase appetite for further

change. No, sir; let it stand as it is. New hands have never

touched it. The men who made it have done their work, and have

passed away. Who shall improve on what _they_ did?

“Mr. Chairman, for the purpose of reviewing this message in the

least possible time, as well as for the sake of distinctness, I

have analyzed its arguments as well as I could, and reduced them

to the propositions I have stated. I have now examined them in

detail. I wish to detain the committee only a little while longer,

with some general remarks on the subject of improvements. That the

subject is a difficult one, can not be denied. Still, it is no

more difficult in Congress than in the State legislatures, in the

counties or in the smallest municipal districts which everywhere

exist. All can recur to instances of this difficulty in the case of

county roads, bridges, and the like. One man is offended because a

road passes over his land; and another is offended because it does

_not_ pass over his; one is dissatisfied because the bridge, for

which he is taxed, crosses the river on a different road from that

which leads from his house to town; another can not bear that the

county should get in debt for these same roads and bridges; while

not a few struggle hard to have roads located over their lands, and

then stoutly refuse to let them be opened, until they are first

paid the damages. Even between the different wards and streets

of towns and cities, we find this same wrangling and difficulty.

Now, these are no other than the very difficulties against which,

and out of which, the President constructs his objections of

‘inequality,’ ‘speculation,’ and ‘crushing the Treasury.’ There is

but a single alternative about them--they are _sufficient_, or they

are _not_. If sufficient, they are sufficient _out_ of Congress

as well as _in_ it, and there is the end. We must reject them as

insufficient, or lie down and do nothing by any authority. Then,

difficulty though there be, let us meet and overcome it.

‘Attempt the end, and never stand to doubt;

Nothing so hard, but search will find it out.’

“Determine that the thing can and shall be done, and then we shall

find the way. The tendency to undue expansion is unquestionably

the chief difficulty. How to do _something_, and still not to do

_too much_, is the desideratum. Let each contribute his mite in

the way of suggestion. The late Silas Wright, in a letter to the

Chicago Convention, contributed his, which was worth something; and

I now contribute mine, which may be worth nothing. At all events,

it will mislead nobody, and therefore will do no harm. I would

not borrow money. I am against an overwhelming, crushing system.

Suppose that at each session, Congress shall first determine _how

much_ money can, for that year, be spared for improvements; then

apportion that sum to the most _important_ objects. So far all is

easy; but how shall we determine which _are_ the most important?

On this question comes the collision of interests. _I_ shall be

slow to acknowledge that _your_ harbor or _your_ river is more

important than _mine_, and _vice versa_. To clear this difficulty,

let us have that same statistical information which the gentleman

from Ohio [Mr. Vinton] suggested at the beginning of this session.

In that information we shall have a stern, unbending basis of

_facts_--a basis in nowise subject to whim, caprice, or local

interest. The pre-limited amount of means will save us from doing

_too much_, and the statistics will save us from doing what we do

in _wrong places_. Adopt and adhere to this course, and, it seems

to me, the difficulty is cleared.

“One of the gentlemen from South Carolina (Mr. Rhett) very much

deprecates these statistics. He particularly objects, as I

understand him, to counting all the pigs and chickens in the land.

I do not perceive much force in the objection. It is true, that if

every thing be enumerated, a portion of such statistics may not be

very useful to this object. Such products of the country as are to

be _consumed_ where they are _produced_, need no roads and rivers,

no means of transportation, and have no very proper connection with

this subject. The _surplus_, that which is produced in _one_ place

to be consumed in _another_; the capacity of each locality for

producing a _greater_ surplus; the natural means of transportation,

and their susceptibility of improvement; the hindrances, delays,

and losses of life and property during transportation, and the

causes of each, would be among the most valuable statistics in

this connection. From these it would readily appear where a given

amount of expenditure would do the most good. These statistics

might be equally accessible, as they would be equally useful, to

both the Nation and the States. In this way, and by these means,

let the nation take hold of the larger works, and the States the

smaller ones; and thus, working in a meeting direction, discreetly,

but steadily and firmly, what is made unequal in one place may be

equalized in another, extravagance avoided, and the whole country

put on that career of prosperity, which shall correspond with its

extent of territory, its natural resources, and the intelligence

and enterprise of its people.”

* * * * *

SPEECH ON THE PRESIDENCY AND GENERAL POLITICS.

(_Delivered in the House, July 27, 1848._)

GENERAL TAYLOR AND THE VETO POWER.

“Mr. SPEAKER:--Our Democratic friends seem to be in great distress

because they think our candidate for the Presidency don’t suit

_us_. Most of them can not find out that General Taylor has any

principles at all; some, however, have discovered that he has

_one_, but that that one is entirely wrong. This one principle

is his position on the veto power. The gentleman from Tennessee

(Mr. Stanton) who has just taken his seat, indeed, has said

there is very little if any difference on this question between

General Taylor and all the Presidents; and he seems to think it

sufficient detraction from General Taylor’s position on it, that

it has nothing new in it. But all others whom I have heard speak

assail it furiously. A new member from Kentucky (Mr. Clarke) of

very considerable ability, was in particular concern about it.

He thought it altogether novel and unprecedented for a President,

or a Presidential candidate, to think of approving bills whose

Constitutionality may not be entirely clear to his own mind. He

thinks the ark of our safety is gone, unless Presidents shall

always veto such bills as, in their judgment, may be of _doubtful_

Constitutionality. However clear Congress may be of their authority

to pass any particular act, the gentleman from Kentucky thinks the

President must veto it if _he_ has _doubts_ about it. Now I have

neither time nor inclination to argue with the gentleman on the

veto power as an original question; but I wish to show that General

Taylor, and not he, agrees with the earliest statesmen on this

question. When the bill chartering the first Bank of the United

States passed Congress, its Constitutionality was questioned;

Mr. Madison, then in the House of Representatives, as well as

others, had opposed it on that ground. General Washington, as

President, was called on to approve or reject it. He sought and

obtained, on the Constitutional question, the separate written

opinions of Jefferson, Hamilton, and Edmund Randolph, they then

being respectively Secretary of State, Secretary of the Treasury,

and Attorney General. Hamilton’s opinion was for the power; while

Randolph’s and Jefferson’s were both against it. Mr. Jefferson,

in his letter dated February 15th, 1791, after giving his opinion

decidedly against the Constitutionality of that bill, closed with

the paragraph which I now read:

“‘It must be admitted, however, that unless the President’s mind,

on a view of every thing which is urged for and against this bill,

is tolerably clear that it is unauthorized by the Constitution; if

the pro and the con hang so even as to balance his judgment, a just

respect for the wisdom of the Legislature would naturally decide

the balance in favor of their opinion; it is chiefly for cases

where they are clearly misled by error, ambition, or interest,

that the Constitution has placed a check in the negative of the

President.’

“General Taylor’s opinion, as expressed in his Allison letter, is

as I now read:

“‘The power given by the veto is a high conservative power; but,

in my opinion, should never be exercised, except in cases of clear

violation of the Constitution, or manifest haste and want of

consideration by Congress.

“It is here seen that, in Mr. Jefferson’s opinion, if, on the

Constitutionality of any given bill, the President _doubts_, he

is not to veto it, as the gentleman from Kentucky would have him

to do, but is to defer to Congress and approve it. And if we

compare the opinions of Jefferson and Taylor, as expressed in these

paragraphs, we shall find them more exactly alike than we can often

find any two expressions having any literal difference. None but

interested fault-finders, can discover any substantial variation.

“But gentlemen on the other side are unanimously agreed that Gen.

Taylor has no other principle. They are in utter darkness as to

his opinions on any of the questions of policy which occupy the

public attention. But is there any doubt as to what he will _do_

on the prominent question, if elected? Not the least. It is not

possible to know what he will or would do in every imaginable case;

because many questions have passed away, and others doubtless will

arise which none of us have yet thought of; but on the prominent

questions of currency, tariff, internal improvements, and Wilmot

proviso, General Taylor’s course is at least as well defined as is

General Cass’s. Why, in their eagerness to get at General Taylor,

several Democratic members here have desired to know whether, in

case of his election, a bankrupt law is to be established. Can

they tell us General Cass’s opinion on this question? (Some member

answered, ‘He is against it.’) Aye, how do you know he is? There is

nothing about it in the platform, nor elsewhere, that I have seen.

If the gentleman knows any thing which I do not, he can show it.

But to return: General Taylor, in his Allison letter says:

“‘Upon the subject of the tariff, the currency, the improvement of

our great highways, rivers, lakes, and harbors, the will of the

people, as expressed through their Representatives in Congress,

ought to be respected and carried out by the Executive.’

“Now, this is the whole matter--in substance, it is this: The

people say to General Taylor, ‘If you are elected shall we have a

National bank?’ He answers, ‘_Your_ will, gentlemen, not _mine_.’

‘What about the tariff?’ ‘Say yourselves.’ ‘Shall our rivers and

harbors be improved?’ ‘Just as you please.’ ‘If you desire a bank,

an alteration of the tariff, internal improvements, any or all, I

will not hinder you; if you do not desire them, I will not attempt

to force them on you. Send up your members of Congress from the

various districts, with opinions according to your own, and if they

are for these measures, or any of them, I shall have nothing to

oppose; if they are not for them, I shall not, by any appliances

whatever, attempt to dragoon them into their adoption.’ Now, can

there be any difficulty in understanding this? To you, Democrats,

it may not seem like principle; but surely you can not fail to

perceive the position plain enough. The distinction between it and

the position of your candidate is broad and obvious, and I admit

you have a clear right to show it is wrong, if you can; but you

have no right to pretend you can not see it at all. We see it, and

to us it appears like principle, and the best sort of principle at

that--the principle of allowing the people to do as they please

with their own business. My friend from Indiana (Mr. C. B. Smith)

has aptly asked, ‘Are you willing to trust the people?’ Some of

you answered, substantially, ‘We are willing to trust the people;

but the President is as much the representative of the people as

Congress.’ In a certain sense, and to a certain intent, he is the

representative of the people. He is elected by them, as well as

Congress is. But can he, in the nature of things, know the wants

of the people as well as three hundred other men coming from all

the various localities of the Nation? If so, where is the propriety

of having a Congress? That the Constitution gives the President a

negative on legislation, all know; but that this negative should be

so combined with platforms and other appliances as to enable him,

and, in fact, almost compel him, to take the whole of legislation

into his own hands, is what we object to--is what General Taylor

objects to--and is what constitutes the broad distinction between

you and us. To thus transfer legislation is clearly to take it from

those who understand with minuteness the interests of the people,

and give it to one who does not and can not so well understand it.

I understand your idea, that if a Presidential candidate avow his

opinion upon a given question, or rather upon all questions, and

the people, with full knowledge of this, elect him, they thereby

distinctly approve all those opinions. This, though plausible, is

a most pernicious deception. By means of it measures are adopted

or rejected, contrary to the wishes of the whole of one party,

and often nearly half of the other. The process is this: Three,

four, or half a dozen questions are prominent at a given time; the

party selects its candidate, and he takes his position on each of

these questions. On all but one his positions have already been

indorsed at former elections, and his party fully committed to

them; but that one is new, and a large portion of them are against

it. But what are they to do? The whole are strung together, and

they must take all or reject all. They can not take what they like

and leave the rest. What they are already committed to, being the

majority, they shut their eyes and gulp the whole. Next election,

still another is introduced in the same way. If we run our eyes

along the line of the past, we shall see that almost, if not quite,

all the articles of the present Democratic creed have been at

first forced upon the party in this very way. And just now, and

just so, opposition to internal improvements is to be established

if Gen. Cass shall be elected. Almost half the Democrats here

are for improvements, but they will vote for Cass, and if he

succeeds, their votes will have aided in closing the doors against

improvements. Now, this is a process which we think is wrong. We

prefer a candidate who, like Gen. Taylor, will allow the people to

have their own way regardless of his private opinion; and I should

think the internal-improvement Democrats at least, ought to prefer

such a candidate. He would force nothing on them which they don’t

want, and he would allow them to have improvements, which their own

candidate, if elected, will not.

“Mr. Speaker, I have said Gen. Taylor’s position is as well defined

as is that of Gen. Cass. In saying this, I admit I do not certainly

know what he would do on the Wilmot proviso. I am a Northern

man, or, rather, a Western free State man, with a constituency I

believe to be, and with personal feelings I know to be, against the

extension of slavery. As such, and with what information I have,

I hope, and _believe_, Gen. Taylor, if elected, would not veto

the proviso; but I do not _know_ it. Yet, if I knew he would, I

still would vote for him. I should do so, because, in my judgment,

his election alone can defeat Gen. Cass; and because, _should_

slavery thereby go into the territory we now have, just so much

will certainly happen by the election of Cass; and, in addition,

a course of policy leading to new wars, new acquisitions of

territory, and still further extensions of slavery. One of the two

is to be President; which is preferable?

“But there is as much doubt of Cass on improvements as there is

of Taylor on the proviso. I have no doubt myself of Gen. Cass on

this question, but I know the Democrats differ among themselves as

to his position. My internal improvement colleague (Mr. Wentworth)

stated on this floor the other day, that he was satisfied Cass was

for improvements, because he had voted for all the bills that he

(Mr. W.) had. So far so good. But Mr. Polk vetoed some of these

very bills; the Baltimore Convention passed a set of resolutions,

among other things, approving these vetoes, and Cass declares, in

his letter accepting the nomination, that he has carefully read

these resolutions, and that he adheres to them as firmly as he

approves them cordially. In other words, Gen. Cass voted for the

bills, and thinks the President did right to veto them; and his

friends here are amiable enough to consider him as being on one

side or the other, just as one or the other may correspond with

their own respective inclinations. My colleague admits that the

platform declares against the Constitutionality of a general system

of improvement, and that Gen. Cass indorses the platform; but he

still thinks Gen. Cass is in favor of some sort of improvements.

Well, what are they? As he is against _general_ objects, those he

is _for_, must be _particular_ and _local_. Now, this is taking the

subject precisely by the wrong end. _Particularity_--expending the

money of the _whole_ people for an object which will benefit only a

_portion_ of them, is the greatest real objection to improvements,

and has been so held by Gen. Jackson, Mr. Polk, and all others,

I believe, till now. But now, behold, the objects most general,

nearest free from this objection, are to be rejected, while those

most liable to it are to be embraced. To return: I can not help

believing that Gen. Cass, when he wrote his letter of acceptance,

well understood he was to be claimed by the advocates of both sides

of this question, and that he then closed the door against all

further expressions of opinion, purposely to retain the benefits of

that double position. His subsequent equivocation at Cleveland, to

my mind, proves such to have been the case.

“One word more, and I shall have done with this branch of the

subject. You Democrats, and your candidate, in the main are in

favor of laying down, in advance, a platform--a set of party

positions, as a unit; and then of enforcing the people, by every

sort of appliance, to ratify them, however unpalatable some of them

may be. We, and our candidate, are in favor of making Presidential

elections and the legislation of the country distinct matters; so

that the people can elect whom they please, and afterward legislate

just _as_ they please, without any hindrance, save only so much as

may guard against infractions of the Constitution, undue haste,

and want of consideration. The difference between us is clear as

noonday. That we are right we can not doubt. We hold the true

Republican position. In leaving the people’s business in their

hands we can not be wrong. We are willing, and even anxious, to go

to the people on this issue.

“But I suppose I can not reasonably hope to convince you that we

have any principles. The most I can expect is, to assure you that

we think we have, and are quite contented with them. The other day,

one of the gentlemen from Georgia (Mr. Iverson), an eloquent man,

and a man of learning, so far as I can judge, not being learned

myself, came down upon us astonishingly. He spoke in what the

Baltimore _American_ calls the ‘scathing and withering style.’ At

the end of his second severe flash I was struck blind, and found

myself feeling with my fingers for an assurance of my continued

physical existence. A little of the bone was left, and I gradually

revived. He eulogized Mr. Clay in high and beautiful terms, and

then declared that we had deserted all our principles, and had

turned Henry Clay out, like an old horse, to root. This is terribly

severe. It can not be answered by argument; at least, I can not

so answer it. I merely wish to ask the gentleman if the Whigs are

the only party he can think of, who sometimes turn old horses out

to root? Is not a certain Martin Van Buren an old horse which your

own party have turned out to root? and is he not rooting a little

to your discomfort about now? But in not nominating Mr. Clay, we

deserted our principles, you say. Ah! in what? Tell us, ye men

of principles what principle we violated? We say you did violate

principle in discarding Van Buren, and we can tell you how. You

violated the primary, the cardinal, the one great living principle

of all Democratic representative government--the principle that

the representative is bound to carry out the known will of his

constituents. A large majority of the Baltimore Convention of 1844

were, by their constituents, instructed to procure Van Buren’s

nomination if they could. In violation, in utter, glaring contempt

of this, you rejected him--rejected him, as the gentlemen from

New York (Mr. Birdsall), the other day expressly admitted, for

_availability_--that same ‘general availability’ which you charge

upon us, and daily chew over here, as something exceedingly odious

and unprincipled. But the gentleman from Georgia (Mr. Iverson),

gave us a second speech yesterday, all well considered and put down

in writing, in which Van Buren was scathed and withered a ‘few’

for his present position and movements. I can not remember the

gentlemen’s precise language, but I do remember he put Van Buren

down, down, till he got him where he was finally to ‘stink’ and

‘rot.’

“Mr. Speaker, it is no business or inclination of mine to defend

Martin Van Buren. In the war of extermination now waging between

him and his old admirers, I say, devil take the hindmost--and the

foremost. But there is no mistaking the origin of the breach;

and if the curse of ‘stinking’ and ‘rotting’ is to fall on the

first and greatest violaters of principle in the matter, I

disinterestedly suggest, that the gentleman from Georgia and his

present co-workers are bound to take it upon themselves.”

Mr. Lincoln then proceeded to speak of the objections against Gen.

Taylor as a mere military hero; retorting with effect, by citing the

attempt to make out a military record for Gen. Cass; and referring, in

a bantering way, to his own services in the Black Hawk war, as already

quoted. He then said:

“While I have Gen. Cass in hand, I wish to say a word about his

political principles. As a specimen, I take the record of his

progress on the Wilmot Proviso. In the Washington Union, of March

2, 1847, there is a report of the speech of Gen. Cass, made the day

before in the Senate, on the Wilmot Proviso, during the delivery of

which, Mr. Miller, of New Jersey, is reported to have interrupted

him as follows, to wit:

“‘Mr. Miller expressed his great surprise at the change in the

sentiments of the Senator from Michigan, who had been regarded as

the great champion of freedom in the North-west of which he was a

distinguished ornament. Last year the Senator from Michigan was

understood to be decidedly in favor of the Wilmot Proviso; and, as

no reason had been stated for the change, he (Mr. Miller) could not

refrain from the expression of his extreme surprise.’

“To this Gen. Cass is reported to have replied as follows, to wit:

“Mr. Cass said, that the course of the Senator from New Jersey was

most extraordinary. Last year he (Mr. Cass) should have voted for

the proposition had it come up. But circumstances had altogether

changed. The honorable Senator then read several passages from the

remarks as given above, which he had committed to writing, in order

to refute such a charge as that of the Senator from New Jersey.’

“In the ‘remarks above committed to writing,’ is one numbered 4, as

follows, to wit:

“‘4th. Legislation would now be wholly imperative, because no

territory hereafter to be acquired can be governed without an act

of Congress providing for its government. And such an act, on its

passage, would open the whole subject, and leave the Congress,

called on to pass it, free to exercise its own discretion,

entirely uncontrolled by any declaration found in the statute book.’

“In Niles’ Register, vol. 73, page 293, there is a letter of

General Cass to A. O. P. Nicholson, of Nashville, Tennessee dated

December 24, 1847, from which the following are correct extracts:

“‘The Wilmot Proviso has been before the country some time. It has

been repeatedly discussed in Congress, and by the public press. I

am strongly impressed with the opinion that a great change has been

going on in the public mind upon this subject--in my own as well as

others; and that doubts are resolving themselves into convictions,

that the principle it involves should be kept out of the National

Legislature, and left to the people of the Confederacy in their

respective local Governments.

“‘Briefly, then, I am opposed to the exercise of any jurisdiction

by Congress over this matter; and I am in favor of leaving the

people of any territory which may be hereafter acquired, the right

to regulate it themselves, under the general principles of the

Constitution. Because,

“‘1. I do not see in the Constitution any grant of the requisite

power to Congress; and I am not disposed to extend a doubtful

precedent beyond its necessity--the establishment of territorial

governments when needed--leaving to the inhabitants all the rights

compatible with the relations they bear to the Confederation.’

“These extracts show that, in 1846, General Cass was for the

Proviso _at once_; that, in March, 1847, he was still for it,

_but not just then_; and that in December, 1847, he was _against_

it altogether. This is a true index to the whole man. When the

question was raised in 1846, he was in a blustering hurry to

take ground for it. He sought to be in advance, and to avoid the

uninteresting position of a mere follower, but soon he began to see

glimpses of the great Democratic ox-gad waving in his face, and to

hear indistinctly, a voice saying, ‘back,’ ‘back, sir,’ ‘back a

little.’ He shakes his head and bats his eyes, and blunders back to

his position of March, 1847; but still the gad waves, and the voice

grows more distinct, and sharper still--‘back, sir!’ ‘back, I say!’

‘further back!’ and back he goes to the position of December, 1847;

at which the gad is still, and the voice soothingly says--‘So!’

‘Stand still at that.’

“Have no fears, gentlemen, of your candidate; he exactly suits you,

and we congratulate you upon it. However much you may be distressed

about _our_ candidate, you have all cause to be contented and happy

with your own. If elected, he may not maintain all, or even any of

his positions previously taken; but he will be sure to do whatever

the party exigency, for the time being, may require; and that is

precisely what you want. He and Van Buren are the same ‘manner of

men;’ and like Van Buren, he will never desert _you_ till you first

desert _him_.”

After referring at some length to extra “charges” of General Cass upon

the Treasury, Mr. Lincoln continued:--

“But I have introduced General Cass’s accounts here, chiefly to

show the wonderful physical capacities of the man. They show that

he not only did the labor of several men at the same _time_, but

that he often did it, at several _places_ many hundred miles apart,

_at the same time_. And at eating, too, his capacities are shown to

be quite as wonderful. From October, 1821, to May, 1822, he ate ten

rations a day in Michigan, ten rations a day here, in Washington,

and nearly five dollar’s worth a day besides, partly on the road

between the two places. And then there is an important discovery in

his example--the art of being paid for what one eats, instead of

having to pay for it. Hereafter, if any nice young man shall owe

a bill which he can not pay in any other way, he can just board

it out. Mr. Speaker, we have all heard of the animal standing in

doubt between two stacks of hay, and starving to death; the like

of that would never happen to General Cass. Place the stacks a

thousand miles apart, he would stand stock-still, midway between

them, and eat them both at once; and the green grass along the line

would be apt to suffer some too, at the same time. By all means

make him President, gentlemen. He will feed you bounteously--if

if--there is any left after he shall have helped himself.

“But as General Taylor, is, par excellence, the hero of the Mexican

war; and, as you Democrats say we Whigs have always opposed the

war, you think it must be very awkward and embarrassing for us to

go for General Taylor. The declaration that we have always opposed

the war, is true or false accordingly as one may understand the

term ‘opposing the war.’ If to say ‘the war was unnecessarily and

unconstitutionally commenced by the President,’ be opposing the

war, then the Whigs have very generally opposed it. Whenever they

have spoken at all, they have said this; and they have said it

on what has appeared good reason to them: The marching an army

into the midst of a peaceful Mexican settlement, frightening the

inhabitants away, leaving their growing crops and other property

to destruction, to _you_ may appear a perfectly amiable, peaceful,

unprovoking procedure; but it does not appear so to _us_. So to

call such an act, to us appears no other than a naked, impudent

absurdity, and we speak of it accordingly. But if, when the war had

begun, and had become the cause of the country, the giving of our

money and our blood, in common with yours, was support of the war,

then it is not true that we have always opposed the war. With few

individual exceptions, you have constantly had our votes here for

all the necessary supplies. And, more than this, you have had the

services, the blood, and the lives of our political brethren in

every trial, and on every field. The beardless boy and the mature

man--the humble and the distinguished, you have had them. Through

suffering and death, by disease and in battle, they have endured,

and fought, and fallen with you. Clay and Webster each gave a son,

never to be returned. From the State of my own residence, besides

other worthy but less known Whig names, we sent Marshall, Morrison,

Baker, and Hardin; they all fought, and one fell, and in the fall

of that one, we lost our best Whig man. Nor were the Whigs few in

number, or laggard in the day of danger. In that fearful, bloody,

breathless struggle at Buena Vista, where each man’s hard task was

to beat back five foes, or die himself, of the five high officers

who perished, four were Whigs.

“In speaking of this, I mean no odious comparison between the

lion-hearted Whigs and Democrats who fought there. On other

occasions, and among the lower officers and privates on _that_

occasion, I doubt not the proportion was different. I wish to do

justice to all. I think of all those brave men as Americans, in

whose proud fame, as an American, I too have a share. Many of them,

Whigs and Democrats, are my constituents and personal friends; and

I thank them--more than thank them--one and all, for the high,

imperishable honor they have conferred on our common State.

“But the distinction between the cause of the _President_ in

beginning the war, and the cause of the _country_ after it was

begun, is a distinction which you can not perceive. To _you_, the

President and the country seem to be all one. You are interested

to see no distinction between them; and I venture to suggest

that _possibly_ your interest blinds you a little. We see the

distinction, as we think, clearly enough; and our friends, who have

fought in the war, have no difficulty in seeing it also. What those

who have fallen would say, were they alive and here, of course

we can never know; but with those who have returned there is no

difficulty. Colonel Haskell and Major Gaines, members here, both

fought in the war; and one of them underwent extraordinary perils

and hardships; still they, like all other Whigs here, vote on

the record that the war was unnecessarily and unconstitutionally

commenced by the President. And even General Taylor himself, the

noblest Roman of them all, has declared that, as a citizen, and

particularly as a soldier, it is sufficient for him to know that

his country is at war with a foreign nation, to do all in his power

to bring it to a speedy and honorable termination, by the most

vigorous and energetic operations, without inquiring about its

justice, or any thing else connected with it.