The spirit of intervention assumed the form of abolitionism because

slavery was odious in name and by association to the Northern mind,

and because it was that which most obviously marks the different

civilizations of the two sections. The South herself, in her early and

later efforts to rid herself of it, had exposed the weak and offensive

parts of slavery to the world. Abolition intermeddling taught her

at last to search for and defend the assumed social, economic, and

political merit and values of the institution. But there never was an

hour from the beginning when it did not seem to me as clear as the sun

at broad noon that the agitation in any form in the North and West of

the slavery question must sooner or later end in disunion and civil war.

This was the opinion and prediction for years of Whig and Democratic

statesmen alike; and, after the unfortunate dissolution of the Whig

party in 1854, and the organization of the present Republican party upon

the exclusive antislavery and sectional basis, the event was inevitable,

because, in the then existing temper of the public mind, and after

the education through the press and the pulpit, the lecture and the

political canvass, for twenty years, of a generation taught to hate

slavery and the South, the success of that party, possessed as it was

of every engine of political, business, social, and religious influence,

was certain. It was only a question of time, and short time. Such

was its strength, indeed, that I do not believe that the union of the

Democratic party in 1860 on any candidate, even though he had been

supported also by the entire so-called conservative or anti-Lincoln vote

of the country, would have availed to defeat it; and, if it had, the

success of the Abolition party would only have been postponed four years

longer. The disease had fastened too strongly upon the system to be

healed until it had run its course. The doctrine of "the irrepressible

conflict" had been taught too long, and accepted too widely and

earnestly, to die out until it should culminate in secession and

disunion, and, if coercion were resorted to, then in civil war. I

believed from the first that it was the purpose of some of the apostles

of that doctrine to force a collision between the North and the South,

either to bring about a separation or to find a vain but bloody pretext

for abolishing slavery in the States. In any event, I knew, or thought I

knew, that the end was certain collision and death to the Union.

Believing thus, I have for years past denounced those who taught that

doctrine, with all the vehemence, the bitterness, if you choose--I

thought it a righteous, a patriotic bitterness--of an earnest and

impassioned nature. * * * But the people did not believe me, nor those

older and wiser and greater than I. They rejected the prophecy, and

stoned the prophets. The candidate of the Republican party was chosen

President. Secession began. Civil war was imminent. It was no petty

insurrection, no temporary combination to obstruct the execution of

the laws in certain States, but a revolution, systematic, deliberate,

determined, and with the consent of a majority of the people of each

State which seceded. Causeless it may have been, wicked it may have

been, but there it was--not to be railed at, still less to be laughed

at, but to be dealt with by statesmen as a fact. No display of vigor or

force alone, however sudden or great, could have arrested it even at the

outset. It was disunion at last. The wolf had come, but civil war had

not yet followed. In my deliberate and solemn judgment there was but

one wise and masterly mode of dealing with it. Non-coercion would avert

civil war, and compromise crush out both abolitionism and secession. The

parent and the child would thus both perish. But a resort to force would

at once precipitate war, hasten secession, extend disunion, and while it

lasted utterly cut off all hope of compromise. I believed that war, if

long enough continued, would be final, eternal disunion. I said it; I

meant it; and accordingly, to the utmost of my ability and influence, I

exerted myself in behalf of the policy of non-coercion. It was adopted

by Mr. Buchanan's administration, with the almost unanimous consent of

the Democratic and Constitutional Union parties in and out of Congress;

and in February, with the consent of a majority of the Republican party

in the Senate and the House. But that party most disastrously for the

country refused all compromise. How, indeed, could they accept any? That

which the South demanded, and the Democratic and Conservative parties of

the North and West were willing to grant, and which alone could avail to

keep the peace and save the Union, implied a surrender of the sole vital

element of the party and its platform, of the very principle, in fact,

upon which it had just won the contest for the Presidency, not, indeed,

by a majority of the popular vote--the majority was nearly a million

against it,--but under the forms of the Constitution. Sir, the crime,

the "high crime," of the Republican party was not so much its refusal

to compromise, as its original organization upon a basis and doctrine

wholly inconsistent with the stability of the Constitution and the peace

of the Union.

The President-elect was inaugurated; and now, if only the policy of

non-coercion could be maintained, and war thus averted, time would do

its work in the North and the South, and final peaceable adjustment

and reunion be secured. Some time in March it was announced that the

President had resolved to continue the policy of his predecessor, and

even go a step farther, and evacuate Sumter and the other Federal forts

and arsenals in the seceded States. His own party acquiesced; the whole

country rejoiced. The policy of non-coercion had triumphed, and for

once, sir, in my life, I found myself in an immense majority. No man

then pretended that a Union founded in consent could be cemented by

force. Nay, more, the President and the Secretary of State went farther.

Said Mr. Seward, in an official diplomatic letter to Mr. Adams: "For

these reasons, he (the President) would not be disposed to reject a

cardinal dogma of theirs (the secessionists), namely, that the Federal

Government could not reduce the seceding States to obedience by

conquest, although he were disposed to question that proposition. But

in fact the President willingly accepts it as true. Only an imperial

or despotic government could subjugate thoroughly disaffected and

insurrectionary members of the State." * * * This Federal republican

system of ours is, of all forms of government, the very one which is

most unfitted for such a labor. This, sir, was on the 10th of April, and

yet on that very day the fleet was under sail for Charleston. The

policy of peace had been abandoned. Collision followed; the militia were

ordered out; civil war began.

Now, sir, on the 14th of April, I believed that coercion would bring on

war, and war disunion. More than that, I believed what you all believe

in your hearts to-day, that the South could never be conquered--never.

And not that only, but I was satisfied--and you of the Abolition party

have now proved it to the world--that the secret but real purpose

of the war was to abolish slavery in the State. * * * These were my

convictions on the 14th of April. Had I changed them on the 15th, when I

read the President's proclamation, * * *

I would have changed my public conduct also. But my convictions did not

change. I thought that, if war was disunion on the 14th of April, it was

equally disunion on the 15th, and at all times. Believing this, I

could not, as an honest man, a Union man, and a patriot, lend an active

support to the war; and I did not. I had rather my right arm were

plucked from its socket and cast into eternal burnings, than, with

my convictions, to have thus defiled my soul with the guilt of moral

perjury. Sir, I was not taught in that school which proclaims that "all

is fair in politics." I loathe, abhor, and detest the execrable maxim.

* * * Perish office, perish honors, perish life itself; but do the thing

that is right, and do it like a man.

Certainly, sir; I could not doubt what he must suffer who dare defy the

opinions and the passions, not to say the madness, of twenty millions of

people. * * * I did not support the war; and to-day I bless God that not

the smell of so much as one drop of its blood is upon my garments. Sir,

I censure no brave man who rushed patriotically into this war; neither

will I quarrel with any one, here or elsewhere, who gave to it an honest

support. Had their convictions been mine, I, too, would doubtless

have done as they did. With my convictions I could not. But I was a

Representative. War existed--by whose act no matter--not by mine. The

President, the Senate, the House, and the country all said that there

should be war. * * * I belonged to that school of politics which teaches

that, when we are at war, the government--I do not mean the Executive

alone, but the government--is entitled to demand and have, without

resistance, such number of men, and such amount of money and supplies

generally, as may be necessary for the war, until an appeal can be had

to the people. Before that tribunal alone, in the first instance,

must the question of the continuance of the war be tried. This was Mr.

Calhoun's opinion * * * in the Mexican war. Speaking of that war in

1847, he said: "Every Senator knows that I was opposed to the war; but

none but myself knows the depth of that opposition. With my conception

of its character and consequences, it was impossible for me to vote for

it. * * * But, after war was declared, by authority of the government,

I acquiesced in what I could not prevent, and what it was impossible for

me to arrest; and I then felt it to be my duty to limit my efforts to

give such direction to the war as would, as far as possible, prevent

the evils and dangers with which it threatened the country and its

institutions."

Sir, I adopt all this as my position and my defence, though, perhaps, in

a civil war, I might fairly go farther in opposition. I could not, with

my convictions, vote men and money for this war, and I would not, as a

Representative, vote against them. I meant that, without opposition, the

President might take all the men and all the money he should demand, and

then to hold him to a strict responsibility before the people for the

results. Not believing the soldiers responsible for the war or its

purposes or its consequences, I have never withheld my vote where

their separate interests were concerned. But I have denounced from the

beginning the usurpations and the infractions, one and all, of law and

constitution, by the President and those under him; their repeated and

persistent arbitrary arrests, the suspension of _habeas corpus_, the

violation of freedom of the mails, of the private house, of the press,

and of speech, and all the other multiplied wrongs and outrages upon

public liberty and private right, which have made this country one of

the worst despotisms on earth for the past twenty months, and I will

continue to rebuke and denounce them to the end; and the people, thank

God, have at last heard and heeded, and rebuked them too. To the record

and to time I appeal again for my justification.

HENRY WARD BEECHER,

OF NEW YORK. (BORN 1813, DIED 1887.)

ADDRESS AT LIVERPOOL, OCTOBER 16, 1863

For more than twenty-five years I have been made perfectly familiar with

popular assemblies in all parts of my country except the extreme South.

There has not for the whole of that time been a single day of my life

when it would have been safe for me to go South of Mason's and Dixon's

line in my own country, and all for one reason: my solemn, earnest,

persistent testimony against that which I consider to be the most

atrocious thing under the sun--the system of American slavery in a great

free republic. [Cheers.] I have passed through that early period when

right of free speech was denied to me. Again and again I have attempted

to address audiences that, for no other crime than that of free speech,

visited me with all manner of contumelious epithets; and now since I

have been in England, although I have met with greater kindness and

courtesy on the part of most than I deserved, yet, on the other hand, I

perceive that the Southern influence prevails to some extent in England.

[Applause and uproar.] It is my old acquaintance; I understand it

perfectly--[laughter]--and I have always held it to be an unfailing

truth that where a man had a cause that would bear examination he was

perfectly willing to have it spoken about. [Applause.] And when

in Manchester I saw those huge placards: "Who is Henry Ward

Beecher?"--[laughter, cries of "Quite right," and applause.]--and

when in Liverpool I was told that there were those blood-red placards,

purporting to say what Henry Ward Beecher had said, and calling upon

Englishmen to suppress free speech--I tell you what I thought. I thought

simply this: "I am glad of it." [Laughter.] Why? Because if they had felt

perfectly secure, that you are the minions of the South and the slaves

of slavery, they would have been perfectly still. [Applause and uproar.]

And, therefore, when I saw so much nervous apprehension that, if I were

permitted to speak--[hisses and applause]--when I found they were afraid

to have me speak [hisses, laughter, and "No, no!"]--when I found that

they considered my speaking damaging to their cause--[applause]--when I

found that they appealed from facts and reasonings to mob law--[applause

and uproar]--I said, no man need tell me what the heart and secret

counsel of these men are. They tremble and are afraid. [Applause,

laughter, hisses, "No, no!" and a voice: "New York mob."] Now,

personally, it is a matter of very little consequence to me whether I

speak here to-night or not. [Laughter and cheers.] But, one thing is

very certain, if you do permit me to speak here to-night you will

hear very plain talking. [Applause and hisses.] You will not find a

man--[interruption]--you will not find me to be a man that dared to

speak about Great Britain 3,000 miles off, and then is afraid to speak

to Great Britain when he stands on her shores. [Immense applause and

hisses.] And if I do not mistake the tone and temper of Englishmen, they

had rather have a man who opposes them in a manly way--[applause from

all parts of the hall]--than a sneak that agrees with them in an unmanly

way. [Applause and "Bravo!"] Now, if I can carry you with me by sound

convictions, I shall be immensely glad--[applause]; but if I cannot

carry you with me by facts and sound arguments, I do not wish you to go

with me at all; and all that I ask is simply FAIR PLAY. [Applause, and a

voice: "You shall have it too."]

Those of you who are kind enough to wish to favor my speaking--and you

will observe that my voice is slightly husky, from having spoken almost

every night in succession for some time past,--those who wish to hear

me will do me the kindness simply to sit still, and to keep still; and I

and my friends the Secessionists will make all the noise. [Laughter.]

There are two dominant races in modern history--the Germanic and the

Romanic races. The Germanic races tend to personal liberty, to a sturdy

individualism, to civil and to political liberty. The Romanic race tends

to absolutism in government; it is clannish; it loves chieftains; it

develops a people that crave strong and showy governments to support and

plan for them. The Anglo-Saxon race belongs to the great German family,

and is a fair exponent of its peculiarities. The Anglo-Saxon carries

self-government and self-development with him wherever he goes. He has

popular GOVERNMENT and popular INDUSTRY; for the effects of a generous

civil liberty are not seen a whit more plain in the good order, in the

intelligence, and in the virtue of a self-governing people, than in

their amazing enterprise and the scope and power of their creative

industry. The power to create riches is just as much a part of the

Anglo-Saxon virtues as the power to create good order and social safety.

The things required for prosperous labor, prosperous manufactures, and

prosperous commerce are three. First, liberty; second, liberty; third,

liberty. [Hear, hear!] Though these are not merely the same liberty, as

I shall show you. First, there must be liberty to follow those laws of

business which experience has developed, without imposts or restrictions

or governmental intrusions. Business simply wants to be let alone.

[Hear, hear!] Then, secondly, there must be liberty to distribute and

exchange products of industry in any market without burdensome tariffs,

without imposts, and with-out vexatious regulations. There must be these

two liberties--liberty to create wealth, as the makers of it think best,

according to the light and experience which business has given them; and

then liberty to distribute what they have created without unnecessary

vexatious burdens.

The comprehensive law of the ideal industrial condition of the word

is free manufacture and free trade. [Hear, hear! A voice: "The Morrill

tariff." Another voice: "Monroe."] I have said there were three elements

of liberty. The third is the necessity of an intelligent and free race

of customers. There must be freedom among producers; there must

be freedom among the distributors; there must be freedom among the

customers. It may not have occurred to you that it makes any difference

what one's customers are, but it does in all regular and prolonged

business. The condition of the customer determines how much he will buy,

determines of what sort he will buy. Poor and ignorant people buy little

and that of the poorest kind. The richest and the intelligent, having

the more means to buy, buy the most, and always buy the best. Here,

then, are the three liberties: liberty of the producer, liberty of

the distributor, and liberty of the consumer. The first two need no

discussion; they have been long thoroughly and brilliantly illustrated

by the political economists of Great Britain and by her eminent

statesmen; but it seems to me that enough attention has not been

directed to the third; and, with your patience, I will dwell upon that

for a moment, before proceeding to other topics.

It is a necessity of every manufacturing and commercial people that

their customers should be very wealthy and intelligent. Let us put the

subject before you in the familiar light of your own local experience.

To whom do the tradesmen of Liverpool sell the most goods at the highest

profit? To the ignorant and poor, or to the educated and prosperous? [A

voice: "To the Southerners." Laughter.] The poor man buys simply for his

body; he buys food, he buys clothing, he buys fuel, he buys lodging. His

rule is to buy the least and the cheapest that he can. He goes to the

store as seldom as he can; he brings away as little as he can; and he

buys for the least he can. [Much laughter.] Poverty is not a misfortune

to the poor only who suffer it, but it is more or less a misfortune to

all with whom he deals. On the other hand, a man well off--how is it

with him? He buys in far greater quantity. He can afford to do it; he

has the money to pay for it. He buys in far greater variety, because he

seeks to gratify not merely physical wants, but also mental wants. He

buys for the satisfaction of sentiment and taste, as well as of sense.

He buys silk, wool, flax, cotton; he buys all metals--iron, silver,

gold, platinum; in short he buys for all necessities and all substances.

But that is not all. He buys a better quality of goods. He buys richer

silks, finer cottons, higher grained wools. Now a rich silk means so

much skill and care of somebody's that has been expended upon it to make

it finer and richer; and so of cotton and so of wool. That is, the price

of the finer goods runs back to the very beginning, and remunerates the

workman as well as the merchant. Now, the whole laboring community is

as much interested and profited as the mere merchant, in this buying and

selling of the higher grades in the greater varieties and quantities.

The law of price is the skill; and the amount of skill expended in the

work is as much for the market as are the goods. A man comes to market

and says: "I have a pair of hands," and he obtains the lowest wages.

Another man comes and says: "I have something more than a pair of hands;

I have truth and fidelity." He gets a higher price. Another man comes

and says: "I have something more; I have hands, and strength, and

fidelity, and skill." He gets more than either of the others.

The next man comes and says: "I have got hands, and strength, and skill,

and fidelity; but my hands work more than that. They know how to create

things for the fancy, for the affections, for the moral sentiments"; and

he gets more than either of the others. The last man comes and says: "I

have all these qualities, and have them so highly that it is a peculiar

genius"; and genius carries the whole market and gets the highest price.

[Loud applause.] So that both the workman and the merchant are profited

by having purchasers that demand quality, variety, and quantity. Now,

if this be so in the town or the city, it can only be so because it is a

law. This is the specific development of a general or universal law, and

therefore we should expect to find it as true of a nation as of a city

like Liverpool. I know that it is so, and you know that it is true of

all the world; and it is just as important to have customers educated,

Intelligent, moral, and rich out of Liverpool as it is in Liverpool.

[Applause.] They are able to buy; they want variety, they want the very

best; and those are the customers you want. That nation is the best

customer that is freest, because freedom works prosperity, industry,

and wealth. Great Britain, then, aside from moral considerations, has a

direct commercial and pecuniary interest in the liberty, civilization,

and wealth of every nation on the globe. [Loud applause.] You also have

an interest in this, because you are a moral and religious people. ["Oh,

oh!" laughter and applause.] You desire it from the highest motives; and

godliness is profitable in all things, having the promise of the life

that now is, as well as of that which is to come; but if there were no

hereafter, and if man had no progress in this life, and if there were no

question of civilization at all, it would be worth your while to

protect civilization and liberty, merely as a commercial speculation. To

evangelize has more than a moral and religious import--it comes back to

temporal relations. Wherever a nation that is crushed, cramped, degraded

under despotism is struggling to be free, you, Leeds, Sheffield,

Manchester, Paisley, all have an interest that that nation should be

free. When depressed and backward people demand that they may have a

chance to rise--Hungary, Italy, Poland--it is a duty for humanity's

sake, it is a duty for the highest moral motives, to sympathize with

them; but besides all these there is a material and an interested

reason why you should sympathize with them. Pounds and pence join with

conscience and with honor in this design. Now, Great Britain's chief

want is--what?

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