silent, is taking place in the political parties of America. The
occasion thereof is the nomination of a man for the presidency who has
no political or civil experience, but who has three qualities that are
important in the eyes of the leading men who have supported and pushed
him forward: one is, that he is an eminent slaveholder, whose interests
and accordingly whose ideas are identical with those of the
slaveholders; the next, that he is not hostile to the doctrines of
northern manufacturers respecting a protective tariff; and the third,
that he is an eminent and very successful military commander. The last
is an accidental quality, and it is not to be supposed that the
intelligent and influential men at the North and South who have promoted
his election, value him any more on that account, or think that mere
military success fits him for his high office, and enables him to settle
the complicated difficulties of a modern State. They must know better;
but they must have known that many men of little intelligence are so
taken with military glory that they will ask for no more in their hero;
it was foreseen, also, that honest and intelligent men of all parties
would give him their vote because he had never been mixed up with the
intrigues of political life. Thus "far-sighted" politicians of the North
and South saw that he might be fairly elected, and then might serve the
purposes of the slaveholder, or the manufacturer of the North. The
military success of General Taylor, an accidental merit, was only the
occasion of his nomination by the whigs; his substantial merit was found
in the fact, that he was supposed, or known, to be favorable to the
"peculiar institution" of the South, and the protective policy of the
manufacturers at the North: this was the cause of his formal nomination
by the Whig Convention of Philadelphia, and his real nomination by
members of the whig party at Washington. The men of property at the
South wanted an extension of slavery; the men of property at the North,
a high protective tariff; and it was thought General Taylor could serve
both purposes, and promote the interests of the North and South.
Such is the occasion of the revolution in political parties: the cause
is the introduction of a new idea into these parties entirely hostile to
some of their former doctrines. In the electioneering contest, the new
idea was represented by the words "Free Soil." For present practice it
takes a negative form: "No more Slave States, no more Slave Territory,"
is the motto. But these words and this motto do not adequately represent
the idea, only so much thereof as has been needful in the present
crisis.
Before now there has been much in the political history of America to
provoke the resentment of the North. England has been ruled by various
dynasties; the American chair has been chiefly occupied by the Southern
House, the Dynasty of Slaveholders: now and then a member of the
Northern House has sat on that seat, but commonly it has been a
"Northern man with Southern principles," never a man with mind to see
the great idea of America, and will to carry it out in action. Still the
spirit of liberty has not died out of the North; the attempt to put an
eighth slaveholder in the chair of "The model republic," gave occasion
for that spirit to act again.
The new idea is not hostile to the distinctive doctrine of either
political party; neither to free trade, nor to protection; so it makes
no revolution in respect to them: it is neutral, and leaves both as it
found them. It is not hostile to the general theory of the American
State, so it makes no revolution there; this idea is assumed as
self-evident, in the Declaration of Independence. It is not inimical to
the theory of the Constitution of the United States, as set forth in the
preamble thereto, where the design of the Constitution is declared to be
"To form a more perfect union, establish justice, insure domestic
tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote the general
welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our
posterity."
There are clauses in the Constitution, which are exceptions to this
theory, and hostile to the design mentioned above; to such, this idea
will one day prove itself utterly at variance, as it is now plainly
hostile to one part of the practice of the American government, and that
of both the parties.
We have had several political parties since the Revolution: the
federalists, and anti-federalists,--the latter shading off into
republicans, democrats, and loco focos; the former tapering into modern
whigs, in which guise some of their fathers would scarcely recognize the
family type. We have had a protective party and an anti-protective
party; once there was a free-trade party, which no longer appears in
politics. There has been a National Bank party, which seems to have gone
to the realm of things lost on earth. In the rise and fall of these
parties, several dramas, tragic and comic, have been performed on the
American boards, where "One man in his time plays many parts," and stout
representatives of the Hartford Convention find themselves on the same
side with worshippers of the Gerrymander, and shouting the same cry. It
is kindly ordered that memory should be so short, and brass so common.
None of the old parties is likely to return; the living have buried the
dead. "We are all federalists," said Mr. Jefferson, "we are all
democrats," and truly, so far as old questions are concerned. It is well
known that the present representatives of the old federal party, have
abjured the commercial theory of their predecessors; and the men who
were "Jacobins" at the beginning of the century, curse the new French
Revolution by their gods. At the presidential election of 1840, there
were but two parties in the field--democrats and whigs. As they both
survive, it is well to see what interests or what ideas they represent.
They differ accidentally in the possession and the desire of power; in
the fact that the former took the initiative, in annexing Texas, and in
making the Mexican war, while the latter only pretended to oppose
either, but zealously and continually cooperated in both. Then, again,
the democratic party sustains the sub-treasury system, insisting that
the government shall not interfere with banking, shall keep its own
deposits, and give and take only specie in its business with the people.
The whig party, if we understand it, has not of late developed any
distinctive doctrine, on the subject of money and financial operations,
but only complained of the action of the sub-treasury; yet, as it
sustained the late Bank of the United States, and appropriately followed
as chief mourner at the funeral thereof, uttering dreadful lamentations
and prophecies which time has not seen fit to accomplish, it still keeps
up a show of differing from the democrats on this matter. These are only
accidental or historical differences, which do not practically affect
the politics of the nation to any great degree.
The substantial difference between the two is this: The whigs desire a
tariff of duties which shall directly and intentionally protect American
industry, or, as we understand it, shall directly and intentionally
protect manufacturing industry, while the commercial and agricultural
interests are to be protected indirectly, not as if they were valuable
in themselves, but were a collateral security to the manufacturing
interest: a special protection is desired for the great manufactures,
which are usually conducted by large capitalists--such as the
manufacture of wool, iron, and cotton. On the other hand, the democrats
disclaim all direct protection of any special interest, but, by raising
the national revenue from the imports of the nation, actually afford a
protection to the articles of domestic origin to the extent of the
national revenue, and much more. That is the substantial difference
between the two parties--one which has been much insisted on at the late
election, especially at the North.
Is this difference of any practical importance at the present moment?
There are two methods of raising the revenue of a country: first, by
direct taxation,--a direct tax on the person, a direct tax on the
property; second, by indirect taxation. To a simple-minded man direct
taxation seems the only just and equal mode of collecting the public
revenue: thereby, the rich man pays in proportion to his much, the poor
to his little. This is so just and obvious, that it is the only method
resorted to, in towns of the North, for raising their revenue. But while
it requires very little common sense and virtue to appreciate this plan
in a town, it seems to require a good deal to endure it in a nation. The
four direct taxes levied by the American government since 1787 have been
imperfectly collected, and only with great difficulty and long delay. To
avoid this difficulty, the government resorts to various indirect modes
of taxation, and collects the greater part of its revenue from the
imports which reach our shores. In this way a man's national tax is not
directly in proportion to his wealth, but directly in proportion to his
consumption of imported goods, or directly to that of domestic goods,
whose price is enhanced by the duties laid on the foreign article. So it
may happen that an Irish laborer, with a dozen children, pays a larger
national tax than a millionnaire who sees fit to live in a miserly
style. Besides, no one knows when he pays or what. At first it seems as
if the indirect mode of taxation made the burden light, but in the end
it does not always prove so. The remote effect thereof is sometimes
remarkable. The tax of one per cent, levied in Massachusetts on articles
sold by auction, has produced some results not at all anticipated.
Now since neither party ventures to suggest direct taxation, the actual
question between the two is not between free trade and protection, but
only between a protective and a revenue tariff. So the real and
practical question between them is this: Shall there be a high tariff or
a low one? At first sight a man not in favor of free trade might think
the present tariff gave sufficient protection to those great
manufactures of wool, cotton, and iron, and as much as was reasonable.
But the present duty is perhaps scarcely adequate to meet the expenses
of the nation, for with new territory new expenses must come; there is a
large debt to be discharged, its interest to be paid; large sums will be
demanded as pensions for the soldiers. Since these things are so, it is
but reasonable to conclude that, under the administration of the whigs
or democrats, a pretty high tariff of duties will continue for some
years to come. So the great and substantial difference between the two
parties ceases to be of any great and substantial importance.
In the mean time another party rises up, representing neither of these
interests; without developing any peculiar views relative to trade or
finance, it proclaims the doctrine that there must be no more slave
territory, and no more slave States. This doctrine is of great practical
importance, and one in which the free soil party differs substantially
from both the other parties. The idea on which the party rests is not
new; it does not appear that the men who framed the Constitution, or the
people who accepted it, ever contemplated the extension of slavery
beyond the limits of the United States at that time; had such a
proposition been then made, it would have been indignantly rejected by
both. The principle of the Wilmot Proviso boasts the same origin as the
Declaration of Independence. The state of feeling at the North
occasioned by the Missouri Compromise is well known, but after that
there was no political party opposed to slavery. No President has been
hostile to it; no Cabinet; no Congress. In 1805, Mr. Pickering, a
Senator from Massachusetts, brought forward his bill for amending the
Constitution, so that slaves should not form part of the basis of
representation; but it fell to the ground, not to be lifted up by his
successors for years to come. The refusal of John Quincy Adams, while
President, to recognize the independence of Hayti, and his efforts to
favor the slave power, excited no remark. In 1844, for the first time
the anti-slavery votes began seriously to affect the presidential
election. At that time the whigs had nominated Mr. Clay as their
candidate, a man of great powers, of popular manners, the friend of
northern industry, but still more the friend of southern slavery, and
more directly identified with that than any man in so high a latitude.
The result of the anti-slavery votes is well known. The bitterest
reproaches have been heaped on the men who voted against him as the
incarnation of the slave power; the annexation of Texas, though
accomplished by a whig senate, and the Mexican war, though only sixteen
members of Congress voted against it, have both been laid to their
charge; and some have even affected to wonder that men conscientiously
opposed to slavery could not forget their principle for the sake of
their party, and put a most decided slaveholder, who had treated not
only them but their cause with scorn and contempt, in the highest place
of power.
The whig party renewed its attempt to place a slaveholder in the
President's chair, at a time when all Europe was rising to end for ever
the tyranny of man. General Taylor was particularly obnoxious to the
anti-slavery men. He is a slaveholder, holding one or two hundred men in
bondage, and enlarging that number by recent purchases; he employs them
in the worst kind of slave labor, the manufacture of sugar; he leaves
them to the mercy of overseers, the dregs and refuse of mankind; he has
just returned from a war undertaken for the extension of slavery; he is
a southern man with southern interests, and opinions favorable to
slavery, and is uniformly represented by his supporters at the South, as
decidedly opposed to the Wilmot Proviso, and in favor of the extension
of slavery. We know this has been denied at the North; but the testimony
of the South settles the question. The convention of democrats in South
Carolina, when they also nominated him, said well, "His interests are
our interests:... we know that on this great, paramount, and leading
question of the rights of the South [to extend slavery over the new
territory], he is for us and he is with us." Said a newspaper in his own
State, "General Taylor is from birth, association, and conviction,
identified with the South and her institutions, being one of the most
extensive slaveholders in Louisiana, and supported by the slaveholding
interest; is opposed to the Wilmot Proviso, and in favor of procuring
the privilege to the owners of slaves to remove with them to newly
acquired territory."
The southerners evidently thought the crisis an important one. The
following is from the distinguished whig senator, Mr. Berrien.
"I consider it the most important Presidential election,
especially to southern men, which has occurred since the
foundation of the government.
"We have great and important interests at stake. If we fail
to sustain them now, we may be forced too soon to decide
whether we will remain in the Union, at the mercy of a band
of fanatics or political jugglers, or reluctantly retire
from it for the preservation of our domestic institutions,
and all our rights as freemen. If we are united, we can
sustain them; if we divide on the old party issues, we must
be victims.
"With a heart devoted to their interests on this great
question, and without respect to party, I implore my
fellow-citizens of Georgia, whig and democratic, to forget
for the time their party divisions: to know each other only
as southern men: to act upon the truism uttered by Mr.
Calhoun, that on this vital question,--the preservation of
our domestic institutions,--the southern man who is furthest
from us, is nearer to us than any northern man can be; that
General Taylor is identified with us, in feeling and
interest, was born in a slaveholding State, educated in a
slaveholding State, is himself a slaveholder; that his slave
property constitutes the means of support to himself and
family; that he cannot desert us without sacrificing his
interest, his principle, the habits and feelings of his
life; and that with him, therefore, our institutions are
safe. I beseech them, therefore, from the love which they
bear to our noble State, to rally under the banner of
Zachary Taylor, and, with one united voice, to send him by
acclamation to the executive chair."
All this has been carefully kept from the sight of the people at the
North.
There have always been men in America, who were opposed to the extension
and the very existence of slavery. In 1787, the best and the most
celebrated statesmen were publicly active on the side of freedom. Some
thought slavery a sin, others a mistake, but nearly all in the
Convention thought it an error. South Carolina and Georgia were the only
States thoroughly devoted to slavery at that time. They threatened to
withdraw from the Union, if it were not sufficiently respected in the
new Constitution. If the other States had said, "You may go, soon as you
like, for hitherto you have been only a curse to us, and done little but
brag," it would have been better for us all. However, partly for the
sake of keeping the peace, and still more for the purpose of making
money by certain concessions of the South, the North granted the
southern demands. After the adoption of the Constitution, the
anti-slavery spirit cooled down; other matters occupied the public mind.
The long disasters of Europe; the alarm of the English party, who feared
their sons should be "conscripts in the armies of Napoleon," and the
violence of the French party, who were ready to compromise the dignity
of the nation, and add new elements to the confusion in Europe; the
subsequent conflict with England, and then the efforts to restore the
national character, and improve our material condition,--these occupied
the thought of the nation, till the Missouri Compromise again disturbed
the public mind. But that was soon forgotten; little was said about
slavery. In the eighteenth century, it was discussed in the colleges and
newspapers, even in the pulpits of the North; but, in the first quarter
of the nineteenth, little was heard of it. Manufactures got established
at the North, and protected by duties; at the South, cotton was
cultivated with profit, and a heavy duty protected the slave-grown sugar
of Louisiana. The pecuniary interests of North and South became closely
connected, and both seemed dependent on the peaceable continuance of
slavery. Little was said against it, little thought, and nothing done.
Southern masters voluntarily brought their slaves to New England, and
took them back, no one offering the African the conventional shelter of
the law, not to speak of the natural shelter of justice. We well
remember the complaint made somewhat later, when a Judge decided that a
slave, brought here by his master's consent, became, from that moment,
free!
But where sin abounded, grace doth much more abound. There rose up one
man who would not compromise, nor be silent,--who would be heard.[49] He
spoke of the evil, spoke of the sin--for all true reforms are bottomed
on religion, and while they seem adverse to many interests, yet
represent the idea of the Eternal. He found a few others, a very few,
and began the anti-slavery movement. The "platform" of the new party was
not an interest, but an idea--that "All men are created equal, and
endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights." Every truth
is also a fact; this was a fact of human consciousness, and a truth of
necessity.
The time has not come to write the history of the abolitionists,--other
deeds must come before words; but we cannot forbear quoting the
testimony of one witness, as to the state of anti-slavery feeling in New
England in 1831. It is the late Hon. Harrison Gray Otis, a former mayor
of Boston, who speaks in his recent letter.
"The first information received by me, of a disposition to
agitate this subject in our State, was from the Governors of
Virginia and Georgia, severally remonstrating against an
incendiary newspaper, published in Boston, and, as they
alleged, thrown broadcast among their plantations, inciting
to insurrection and its horrid results. It appeared, on
inquiry, that no member of the city government [of Boston]
had ever heard of the publication. Some time afterwards it
was reported to me by the city officers, that they had
ferreted out the paper and its editor; that his office was
an obscure hole, his only visible auxiliary a negro boy, and
his supporters a very few insignificant persons of all
colors. This information.... I communicated to the
above-named governors, with an assurance of my belief that
the new fanaticism had not made, nor was likely to make,
proselytes among the respectable classes of our people."
Such was the state of things in 1831. Anti-slavery had "an obscure
hole" for its head-quarters; the one agitator, who had filled the two
doughty Governors of Virginia and Georgia with uncomfortable
forebodings, had a "negro boy" "for his only visible auxiliary," and
none of the respectable men of Boston had heard of the hole, of the
agitator, of the negro boy, or even of the agitation. One thing must be
true: either the man and the boy were pretty vigorous, or else there was
a great truth in that obscure hole; for, in spite of the governors and
the mayors, spite of the many able men in the South and the North,
spite, also, of the wealth and respectability of the whole land, it is a
plain case that the abolitionists have shaken the nation, and their idea
is the idea of the time; and the party which shall warmly welcome that
is destined before long to override all the other parties.
One thing must be said of the leaders of the anti-slavery movement. They
asked for nothing but justice; not justice for themselves--they were not
Socratic enough to ask that,--but only justice for the slave; and to
obtain that, they forsook all that human hearts most love. It is rather
a cheap courage that fought at Monterey and Palo Alto, a bravery that
can be bought for eight dollars a month; the patriotism which hurras for
"our side," which makes speeches at Faneuil Hall, nay, which carries
torch-lights in a procession, is not the very loftiest kind of
patriotism; even the man who stands up at the stake, and in one brief
hour of agony anticipates the long torment of disease, does not endure
the hardest, but only the most obvious kind of martyrdom. But when a
man, for conscience' sake, leaves a calling that would insure him bread
and respectability; when he abjures the opinions which give him the
esteem of honorable men; when, for the sake of truth and justice, he
devotes himself to liberating the most abused and despised class of men,
solely because they are men and brothers; when he thus steps forth in
front of the world, and encounters poverty and neglect, the scorn, the
loathing, and the contempt of mankind--why, there is something not very
common in that. There was once a Man who had not where to lay his head,
who was born in "an obscure hole," and had not even a negro boy for his
"auxiliary;" who all his life lived with most obscure persons--eating
and drinking with publicans and sinners; who found no favor with mayors
or governors, and yet has had some influence on the history of the
world. When intelligent men mock at small beginnings, it is surprising
they cannot remember that the greatest institutions have had their times
which tried men's souls, and that they who have done all the noblest and
best work of mankind, sometimes forgot self-interest in looking at a
great truth; and though they had not always even a negro boy to help
them, or an obscure hole to lay their heads in, yet found the might of
the universe was on the side of right, and themselves workers with God!
The abolitionists did not aim to found a political party; they set forth
an idea. If they had set up the interest of the whigs or the democrats,
the manufacturers or the merchants, they might have formed a party and
had a high place in it, with money, ease, social rank and a great name
in the party--newspapers. Some of them had political talents, ideas more
than enough, the power of organizing men, the skill to manage them, and
a genius for eloquence. With such talents, it demands not a little
manliness to keep out of politics and in the truth.