but I do not believe any such case has now occurred; and if it has,
I should still be opposed to making an examination without legal
authority. I am opposed to encouraging that lawless and mobocratic
spirit, whether in relation to the Bank or anything else, which is
already abroad in the land and is spreading with rapid and fearful
impetuosity, to the ultimate overthrow of every institution, of every
moral principle, in which persons and property have hitherto found
security.
But supposing we had the authority, I would ask what good can result
from the examination? Can we declare the Bank unconstitutional, and
compel it to desist from the abuses of its power, provided we find such
abuses to exist? Can we repair the injuries which it may have done to
individuals? Most certainly we can do none of these things. Why
then shall we spend the public money in such employment? Oh, say the
examiners, we can injure the credit of the Bank, if nothing else, Please
tell me, gentlemen, who will suffer most by that? You cannot injure, to
any extent, the stockholders. They are men of wealth--of large capital;
and consequently, beyond the power of malice. But by injuring the credit
of the Bank, you will depreciate the value of its paper in the hands of
the honest and unsuspecting farmer and mechanic, and that is all you can
do. But suppose you could effect your whole purpose; suppose you could
wipe the Bank from existence, which is the grand ultimatum of the
project, what would be the consequence? why, Sir, we should spend
several thousand dollars of the public treasure in the operation,
annihilate the currency of the State, render valueless in the hands of
our people that reward of their former labors, and finally be once more
under the comfortable obligation of paying the Wiggins loan, principal
and interest.
OPPOSITION TO MOB-RULE
ADDRESS BEFORE THE YOUNG MEN'S LYCEUM OF SPRINGFIELD, ILLINOIS.
January 27, 1837.
As a subject for the remarks of the evening, "The Perpetuation of our
Political Institutions" is selected.
In the great journal of things happening under the sun, we, the American
people, find our account running under date of the nineteenth century of
the Christian era. We find ourselves in the peaceful possession of the
fairest portion of the earth as regards extent of territory, fertility
of soil, and salubrity of climate. We find ourselves under the
government of a system of political institutions conducing more
essentially to the ends of civil and religious liberty than any of which
the history of former times tells us. We, when mounting the stage of
existence, found ourselves the legal inheritors of these fundamental
blessings. We toiled not in the acquirement or establishment of them;
they are a legacy bequeathed us by a once hardy, brave, and patriotic,
but now lamented and departed, race of ancestors. Theirs was the
task (and nobly they performed it) to possess themselves, and through
themselves us, of this goodly land, and to uprear upon its hills and its
valleys a political edifice of liberty and equal rights; it is ours only
to transmit these--the former unprofaned by the foot of an invader, the
latter undecayed by the lapse of time and untorn by usurpation--to the
latest generation that fate shall permit the world to know. This task
gratitude to our fathers, justice to ourselves, duty to posterity, and
love for our species in general, all imperatively require us faithfully
to perform.
How then shall we perform it? At what point shall we expect the approach
of danger? By what means shall we fortify against it? Shall we expect
some transatlantic military giant to step the ocean and crush us at a
blow? Never! All the armies of Europe, Asia, and Africa combined, with
all the treasure of the earth (our own excepted) in their military
chest, with a Bonaparte for a commander, could not by force take a drink
from the Ohio or make a track on the Blue Ridge in a trial of a thousand
years.
At what point then is the approach of danger to be expected? I answer:
If it ever reach us it must spring up amongst us; it cannot come from
abroad. If destruction be our lot we must ourselves be its author and
finisher. As a nation of freemen we must live through all time, or die
by suicide.
I hope I am over-wary; but if I am not, there is even now something
of ill omen amongst us. I mean the increasing disregard for law which
pervades the country--the growing disposition to substitute the wild and
furious passions in lieu of the sober judgment of courts, and the
worse than savage mobs for the executive ministers of justice. This
disposition is awfully fearful in any community; and that it now
exists in ours, though grating to our feelings to admit, it would be a
violation of truth and an insult to our intelligence to deny. Accounts
of outrages committed by mobs form the everyday news of the times.
They have pervaded the country from New England to Louisiana; they are
neither peculiar to the eternal snows of the former nor the burning suns
of the latter; they are not the creature of climate, neither are they
confined to the slave holding or the non-slave holding States. Alike
they spring up among the pleasure-hunting masters of Southern slaves,
and the order-loving citizens of the land of steady habits. Whatever
then their cause may be, it is common to the whole country.
It would be tedious as well as useless to recount the horrors of all of
them. Those happening in the State of Mississippi and at St. Louis are
perhaps the most dangerous in example and revolting to humanity. In the
Mississippi case they first commenced by hanging the regular gamblers--a
set of men certainly not following for a livelihood a very useful or
very honest occupation, but one which, so far from being forbidden by
the laws, was actually licensed by an act of the Legislature passed but
a single year before. Next, negroes suspected of conspiring to raise an
insurrection were caught up and hanged in all parts of the State;
then, white men supposed to be leagued with the negroes; and finally,
strangers from neighboring States, going thither on business, were in
many instances subjected to the same fate. Thus went on this process of
hanging, from gamblers to negroes, from negroes to white citizens, and
from these to strangers, till dead men were seen literally dangling
from the boughs of trees upon every roadside, and in numbers almost
sufficient to rival the native Spanish moss of the country as a drapery
of the forest.
Turn then to that horror-striking scene at St. Louis. A single victim
only was sacrificed there. This story is very short, and is perhaps
the most highly tragic of anything of its length that has ever been
witnessed in real life. A mulatto man by the name of McIntosh was seized
in the street, dragged to the suburbs of the city, chained to a tree,
and actually burned to death; and all within a single hour from the time
he had been a freeman attending to his own business and at peace with
the world.
Such are the effects of mob law, and such are the scenes becoming more
and more frequent in this land so lately famed for love of law and
order, and the stories of which have even now grown too familiar to
attract anything more than an idle remark.
But you are perhaps ready to ask, "What has this to do with the
perpetuation of our political institutions?" I answer, It has much to
do with it. Its direct consequences are, comparatively speaking, but
a small evil, and much of its danger consists in the proneness of
our minds to regard its direct as its only consequences. Abstractly
considered, the hanging of the gamblers at Vicksburg was of but little
consequence. They constitute a portion of population that is worse than
useless in any community; and their death, if no pernicious example be
set by it, is never matter of reasonable regret with any one. If
they were annually swept from the stage of existence by the plague or
smallpox, honest men would perhaps be much profited by the operation.
Similar too is the correct reasoning in regard to the burning of the
negro at St. Louis. He had forfeited his life by the perpetration of an
outrageous murder upon one of the most worthy and respectable citizens
of the city, and had he not died as he did, he must have died by the
sentence of the law in a very short time afterwards. As to him alone,
it was as well the way it was as it could otherwise have been. But the
example in either case was fearful. When men take it in their heads
to-day to hang gamblers or burn murderers, they should recollect that in
the confusion usually attending such transactions they will be as likely
to hang or burn some one who is neither a gambler nor a murderer as one
who is, and that, acting upon the example they set, the mob of to-morrow
may, and probably will, hang or burn some of them by the very same
mistake. And not only so: the innocent, those who have ever set their
faces against violations of law in every shape, alike with the guilty
fall victims to the ravages of mob law; and thus it goes on, step by
step, till all the walls erected for the defense of the persons and
property of individuals are trodden down and disregarded. But all this,
even, is not the full extent of the evil. By such examples, by instances
of the perpetrators of such acts going unpunished, the lawless in spirit
are encouraged to become lawless in practice; and having been used to
no restraint but dread of punishment, they thus become absolutely
unrestrained. Having ever regarded government as their deadliest bane,
they make a jubilee of the suspension of its operations, and pray for
nothing so much as its total annihilation. While, on the other hand,
good men, men who love tranquillity, who desire to abide by the laws and
enjoy their benefits, who would gladly spill their blood in the defense
of their country, seeing their property destroyed, their families
insulted, and their lives endangered, their persons injured, and seeing
nothing in prospect that forebodes a change for the better, become tired
of and disgusted with a government that offers them no protection, and
are not much averse to a change in which they imagine they have nothing
to lose. Thus, then, by the operation of this mobocratic spirit which
all must admit is now abroad in the land, the strongest bulwark of
any government, and particularly of those constituted like ours, may
effectually be broken down and destroyed--I mean the attachment of the
people. Whenever this effect shall be produced among us; whenever the
vicious portion of population shall be permitted to gather in bands
of hundreds and thousands, and burn churches, ravage and rob
provision-stores, throw printing presses into rivers, shoot editors, and
hang and burn obnoxious persons at pleasure and with impunity, depend on
it, this government cannot last. By such things the feelings of the best
citizens will become more or less alienated from it, and thus it will
be left without friends, or with too few, and those few too weak to
make their friendship effectual. At such a time, and under such
circumstances, men of sufficient talent and ambition will not be wanting
to seize the opportunity, strike the blow, and overturn that fair fabric
which for the last half century has been the fondest hope of the lovers
of freedom throughout the world.
I know the American people are much attached to their government; I know
they would suffer much for its sake; I know they would endure evils
long and patiently before they would ever think of exchanging it for
another,--yet, notwithstanding all this, if the laws be continually
despised and disregarded, if their rights to be secure in their persons
and property are held by no better tenure than the caprice of a mob,
the alienation of their affections from the government is the natural
consequence; and to that, sooner or later, it must come.
Here, then, is one point at which danger may be expected.
The question recurs, How shall we fortify against it? The answer is
simple. Let every American, every lover of liberty, every well-wisher to
his posterity swear by the blood of the Revolution never to violate
in the least particular the laws of the country, and never to tolerate
their violation by others. As the patriots of seventy-six did to the
support of the Declaration of Independence, so to the support of the
Constitution and laws let every American pledge his life, his property,
and his sacred honor. Let every man remember that to violate the law is
to trample on the blood of his father, and to tear the charter of his
own and his children's liberty. Let reverence for the laws be breathed
by every American mother to the lisping babe that prattles on her lap;
let it be taught in schools, in seminaries, and in colleges; let it be
written in primers, spelling books, and in almanacs; let it be preached
from the pulpit, proclaimed in legislative halls, and enforced in courts
of justice. And, in short, let it become the political religion of the
nation; and let the old and the young, the rich and the poor, the
grave and the gay of all sexes and tongues and colors and conditions,
sacrifice unceasingly upon its altars.
While ever a state of feeling such as this shall universally or even
very generally prevail throughout the nation, vain will be every effort,
and fruitless every attempt, to subvert our national freedom.
When, I so pressingly urge a strict observance of all the laws, let me
not be understood as saying there are no bad laws, or that grievances
may not arise for the redress of which no legal provisions have been
made. I mean to say no such thing. But I do mean to say that although
bad laws, if they exist, should be repealed as soon as possible, still,
while they continue in force, for the sake of example they should be
religiously observed. So also in unprovided cases. If such arise, let
proper legal provisions be made for them with the least possible delay,
but till then let them, if not too intolerable, be borne with.
There is no grievance that is a fit object of redress by mob law. In any
case that may arise, as, for instance, the promulgation of abolitionism,
one of two positions is necessarily true--that is, the thing is right
within itself, and therefore deserves the protection of all law and all
good citizens, or it is wrong, and therefore proper to be prohibited by
legal enactments; and in neither case is the interposition of mob law
either necessary, justifiable, or excusable.
But it may be asked, Why suppose danger to our political institutions?
Have we not preserved them for more than fifty years? And why may we not
for fifty times as long?
We hope there is no sufficient reason. We hope all danger may be
overcome; but to conclude that no danger may ever arise would itself be
extremely dangerous. There are now, and will hereafter be, many causes,
dangerous in their tendency, which have not existed heretofore, and
which are not too insignificant to merit attention. That our government
should have been maintained in its original form, from its establishment
until now, is not much to be wondered at. It had many props to support
it through that period, which now are decayed and crumbled away. Through
that period it was felt by all to be an undecided experiment; now it is
understood to be a successful one. Then, all that sought celebrity
and fame and distinction expected to find them in the success of that
experiment. Their all was staked upon it; their destiny was inseparably
linked with it. Their ambition aspired to display before an admiring
world a practical demonstration of the truth of a proposition which had
hitherto been considered at best no better than problematical--namely,
the capability of a people to govern themselves. If they succeeded they
were to be immortalized; their names were to be transferred to counties,
and cities, and rivers, and mountains; and to be revered and sung,
toasted through all time. If they failed, they were to be called
knaves and fools, and fanatics for a fleeting hour; then to sink and be
forgotten. They succeeded. The experiment is successful, and thousands
have won their deathless names in making it so. But the game is caught;
and I believe it is true that with the catching end the pleasures of
the chase. This field of glory is harvested, and the crop is already
appropriated. But new reapers will arise, and they too will seek a
field. It is to deny what the history of the world tells us is true, to
suppose that men of ambition and talents will not continue to spring
up amongst us. And when they do, they will as naturally seek the
gratification of their ruling passion as others have done before them.
The question then is, Can that gratification be found in supporting
and in maintaining an edifice that has been erected by others? Most
certainly it cannot. Many great and good men, sufficiently qualified for
any task they should undertake, may ever be found whose ambition would
aspire to nothing beyond a seat in Congress, a Gubernatorial or a
Presidential chair; but such belong not to the family of the lion, or
the tribe of the eagle. What! think you these places would satisfy an
Alexander, a Caesar, or a Napoleon? Never! Towering genius disdains
a beaten path. It seeks regions hitherto unexplored. It sees no
distinction in adding story to story upon the monuments of fame erected
to the memory of others. It denies that it is glory enough to serve
under any chief. It scorns to tread in the footsteps of any predecessor,
however illustrious. It thirsts and burns for distinction; and if
possible, it will have it, whether at the expense of emancipating slaves
or enslaving freemen. Is it unreasonable, then, to expect that some man
possessed of the loftiest genius, coupled with ambition sufficient to
push it to its utmost stretch, will at some time spring up among us? And
when such an one does it will require the people to be united with each
other, attached to the government and laws, and generally intelligent,
to successfully frustrate his designs.
Distinction will be his paramount object, and although he would as
willingly, perhaps more so, acquire it by doing good as harm, yet,
that opportunity being past, and nothing left to be done in the way of
building up, he would set boldly to the task of pulling down.
Here then is a probable case, highly dangerous, and such an one as could
not have well existed heretofore.
Another reason which once was, but which, to the same extent, is now no
more, has done much in maintaining our institutions thus far. I mean the
powerful influence which the interesting scenes of the Revolution had
upon the passions of the people as distinguished from their judgment. By
this influence, the jealousy, envy, and avarice incident to our nature,
and so common to a state of peace, prosperity, and conscious strength,
were for the time in a great measure smothered and rendered inactive,
while the deep-rooted principles of hate, and the powerful motive of
revenge, instead of being turned against each other, were directed
exclusively against the British nation. And thus, from the force of
circumstances, the basest principles of our nature were either made to
lie dormant, or to become the active agents in the advancement of
the noblest of causes--that of establishing and maintaining civil and
religious liberty.
But this state of feeling must fade, is fading, has faded, with the
circumstances that produced it.
I do not mean to say that the scenes of the Revolution are now or ever
will be entirely forgotten, but that, like everything else, they must
fade upon the memory of the world, and grow more and more dim by the
lapse of time. In history, we hope, they will be read of, and recounted,
so long as the Bible shall be read; but even granting that they will,
their influence cannot be what it heretofore has been. Even then they
cannot be so universally known nor so vividly felt as they were by the
generation just gone to rest. At the close of that struggle, nearly
every adult male had been a participator in some of its scenes. The
consequence was that of those scenes, in the form of a husband, a
father, a son, or a brother, a living history was to be found in
every family--a history bearing the indubitable testimonies of its own
authenticity, in the limbs mangled, in the scars of wounds received, in
the midst of the very scenes related--a history, too, that could be read
and understood alike by all, the wise and the ignorant, the learned and
the unlearned. But those histories are gone. They can be read no more
forever. They were a fortress of strength; but what invading foeman
could never do the silent artillery of time has done--the leveling of
its walls. They are gone. They were a forest of giant oaks; but the
all-restless hurricane has swept over them, and left only here and
there a lonely trunk, despoiled of its verdure, shorn of its foliage,
unshading and unshaded, to murmur in a few more gentle breezes, and to
combat with its mutilated limbs a few more ruder storms, then to sink
and be no more.
They were pillars of the temple of liberty; and now that they have
crumbled away that temple must fall unless we, their descendants, supply
their places with other pillars, hewn from the solid quarry of sober
reason. Passion has helped us, but can do so no more. It will in future
be our enemy. Reason cold, calculating, unimpassioned reason--must
furnish all the materials for our future support and defense. Let those
materials be moulded into general intelligence, sound morality, and
in particular, a reverence for the Constitution and laws; and that we
improved to the last, that we remained free to the last, that we revered
his name to the last, that during his long sleep we permitted no hostile
foot to pass over or desecrate his resting place, shall be that which to
learn the last trump shall awaken our Washington.
Upon these let the proud fabric of freedom rest, as the rock of its
basis; and as truly as has been said of the only greater institution,
"the gates of hell shall not prevail against it."
PROTEST IN THE ILLINOIS LEGISLATURE ON THE SUBJECT OF SLAVERY.
March 3, 1837.
The following protest was presented to the House, which was read and
ordered to be spread in the journals, to wit:
"Resolutions upon the subject of domestic slavery having passed both
branches of the General Assembly at its present session, the undersigned
hereby protest against the passage of the same.
"They believe that the institution of slavery is founded on both
injustice and bad policy, but that the promulgation of abolition
doctrines tends rather to increase than abate its evils.
"They believe that the Congress of the United States has no power under
the Constitution to interfere with the institution of slavery in the
different States.
"They believe that the Congress of the United States has the power,
under the Constitution, to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia,
but that the power ought not to be exercised, unless at the request of
the people of the District.
"The difference between these opinions and those contained in the said
resolutions is their reason for entering this protest.
"DAN STONE,
"A. LINCOLN,
"Representatives from the County of Sangamon."
TO MISS MARY OWENS.
SPRINGFIELD, May 7, 1837.
MISS MARY S. OWENS.
FRIEND MARY:--I have commenced two letters to send you before this, both
of which displeased me before I got half done, and so I tore them up.
The first I thought was not serious enough, and the second was on the
other extreme. I shall send this, turn out as it may.
This thing of living in Springfield is rather a dull business, after
all; at least it is so to me. I am quite as lonesome here as I ever was
anywhere in my life. I have been spoken to by but one woman since I have
been here, and should not have been by her if she could have avoided it.
I 've never been to church yet, and probably shall not be soon. I stay
away because I am conscious I should not know how to behave myself.