If, fellow-citizens, I can make myself heard by this numerous assembly,

speaking, as I do, in the open air, I will return to you my heartfelt

thanks for the kindness you have shown me. I come among you a stranger.

On the day before yesterday I placed my foot, for the first time, on the

soil of the great and growing State of Indiana. Although I have lived on

terms of great intimacy and friendship with several Western gentlemen,

members of Congress, among whom is your estimable townsman near me,

(Governor Hendricks,) I have never before had an opportunity of seeing

and forming an acquaintance for myself with my fellow-citizens of this

section of the Union. I travel for this purpose. I confess that I regard

with astonishment the evidences of intelligence, enterprise, and

refinement everywhere exhibited around me, when I think of the short

time that has elapsed since the spot where I stand was a howling

wilderness. Since I entered public life, this State was unknown as a

political government. All the country west of the Alleghanies and

northwest of the Ohio constituted but one Territory, entitled to a

single delegate in the counsels of the nation, having the right to

speak, but not to vote. Since then, the States of Ohio, Indiana,

Illinois, Michigan, and the long strip of country known as the Territory

of Wisconsin, have been carved out of it. Indiana, which numbers but

twenty years since the commencement of her political existence, contains

a population of six hundred thousand, equal to the population of

Massachusetts, a State of two hundred years' duration. In age she is an

infant; in strength and resources a giant. Her appearance indicates the

full vigor of maturity, while, measured by her years, she is yet in the

cradle.

Although I reside in a part of the country most remote from you,

although I have seen you spring into existence and advance with rapid

strides in the march of prosperity and power, until your population has

equalled that of my own State, which you far surpass in fertility of

soil and mildness of climate; yet these things have excited in me no

feelings of dislike, or jealousy, or envy. On the contrary, I have

witnessed them with pride and pleasure, when I saw in them the growth of

a member of our common country; and with feelings warmer than pride,

when I recollect that there are those among you who are bone of my bone

and flesh of my flesh, who inherit my name and share my blood. When they

came to me for my advice, before leaving their hearths and homes, I did

not oppose their desires or suggest difficulties in their paths. I told

them, "Go and join your destinies with those of the hardy pioneers of

the West, share their hardships, and partake their fortunes; go, and God

speed you; only carry with you your own good principles, and whether the

sun rises on you, or sets on you, let it warm American hearts in your

bosoms."

Though, as I observed, I live in a part of the country most remote from

you, fellow-citizens, I have been no inattentive observer of your

history and progress. I have heard of the reports made in your

legislature, and the acts passed in pursuance thereof. I have traced on

the map of your State the routes marked out for extensive turnpikes,

railroads, and canals. I have read with pleasure the acts providing for

their establishment and completion. I do not pretend to offer you my

advice; it would perhaps be presumptuous; but you will permit me to say,

that, as far as I have examined them, they are conceived in wisdom, and

evince great political skill and foresight. You have commenced at the

right point. To open the means of communication, by which man may, when

he wishes, see the face of his friend, should be the first work of every

government. We may theorize and speculate about it as we please,--we may

understand all the metaphysics of politics; but if men are confined to

the narrow spot they inhabit, because they have not the means of

travelling when they please, they must go back to a state of barbarism.

Social intercourse is the corner-stone of good government. The nation

that provides no means for the improvement of its communications, has

not taken the first step in civilization. Go on, then, as you have

begun; prosecute your works with energy and perseverance; be not daunted

by imaginary difficulties, be not deterred by exaggerated calculations

of their cost. Go on; open your wilderness to the sun; turn up the soil;

and in the wide-spread and highly-cultivated fields, the smiling

villages, and the busy towns that will spring up from the bosom of the

desert, you will reap a rich reward for your investment and industry.

Another of the paramount objects of government, to which I rejoice to

see that you have turned your attention, is education. I speak not of

college education, nor of academy education, though they are of great

importance; I speak of free-school education, common-school education.

Among the luminaries in the sky of New England, the burning lights which

throw intelligence and happiness on her people, the first and most

brilliant is her system of common schools. I congratulate myself that my

first speech on entering public life was in their behalf. Education, to

accomplish the ends of good government, should be universally diffused.

Open the doors of the school-house to all the children in the land. Let

no man have the excuse of poverty for not educating his own offspring.

Place the means of education within his reach, and if they remain in

ignorance, be it his own reproach. If one object of the expenditure of

your revenue be protection against crime, you could not devise a better

or cheaper means of obtaining it. Other nations spend their money in

providing means for its detection and punishment, but it is the

principle of our government to provide for its never occurring. The one

acts by _coercion_, the other by _prevention_. On the diffusion of

education among the people rest the preservation and perpetuation of our

free institutions. I apprehend no danger to our country from a foreign

foe. The prospect of a war with any powerful nation is too remote to be

a matter of calculation. Besides, there is no nation on earth powerful

enough to accomplish our overthrow. Our destruction, should it come at

all, will be from another quarter. From the inattention of the people to

the concerns of their government, from their carelessness and

negligence, I must confess that I do apprehend some danger. I fear that

they may place too implicit a confidence in their public servants, and

fail properly to scrutinize their conduct; that in this way they may be

made the dupes of designing men, and become the instruments of their own

undoing. Make them intelligent, and they will be vigilant; give them the

means of detecting the wrong, and they will apply the remedy.

The gentleman who has just addressed me in such flattering, but

unmerited terms, has been pleased to make kind mention of my devotion to

the Constitution, and my humble efforts in its support. I claim no merit

on that account. It results from my sense of its surpassing excellences,

which must strike every man who attentively and impartially examines it.

I regard it as the work of the purest patriots and wisest statesmen that

ever existed, aided by the smiles of a benignant Providence; for when we

regard it as a system of government growing out of the discordant

opinions and conflicting interests of thirteen independent States, it

almost appears a Divine interposition in our behalf. I have always, with

the utmost zeal and the moderate abilities I possess, striven to prevent

its infraction in the slightest particular. I believed, if that bond of

union were broken, we should never again be a united people. Where,

among all the political thinkers, the constitution-makers and the

constitution-menders of the day, could we find a man to make us another?

Who would even venture to propose a reunion? Where would be the

starting-point, and what the plan? I do not expect miracles to follow

each other. No plan could be proposed that would be adopted; the hand

that destroys the Constitution rends our Union asunder for ever.

My friend has been pleased to remember, in his address, my humble

support of the constitutional right of Congress to improve the

navigation of our great internal rivers, and to construct roads through

the different States. It is well known that few persons entertain

stronger opinions on this subject than myself. Believing that the great

object of the Union is to secure the general safety and promote the

general welfare, and that the Constitution was designed to point out the

means of accomplishing these ends, I have always been in favor of such

measures as I deemed for the general benefit, under the restrictions and

limitations prescribed by the Constitution itself. I supported them with

my voice, and my vote, not because they were for the benefit of the

West, but because they were for the benefit of the whole country. That

they are local in their advantages, as well as in their construction, is

an objection that has been and will be urged against every measure of

the kind. In a country so widely extended as ours, so diversified in its

interests and in the character of its people, it is impossible that the

operation of any measure should affect all alike. Each has its own

peculiar interest, whose advancement it seeks; we have the sea-coast,

and you the noble river that flows at your feet. So it must ever be. Go

to the smallest government in the world, the republic of San Marino, in

Italy, possessing a territory of but ten miles square, and you will find

its citizens, separated but by a few miles, having some interests which,

on account of local situation, are separate and distinct. There is not

on the face of the earth a plain, five miles in extent, whose

inhabitants are all the same in their pursuits and pleasures. Some will

live on a creek, others near a hill, which, when any measure is proposed

for the general benefit, will give rise to jarring claims and opposing

interests. In such cases, it has always appeared to me that the point to

be examined was, whether the principle was general. If the principle

were general, although the application might be partial, I cheerfully

and zealously gave it my support. When an objection has been made to an

appropriation for clearing the snags out of the Ohio River, I have

answered it with the question, "Would you not vote for an appropriation

to clear the Atlantic Ocean of snags, were the navigation of your coast

thus obstructed? The people of the West contribute their portion of the

revenue to fortify your sea-coast, and erect piers, and harbors, and

light-houses, from which they derive a remote benefit, and why not

contribute yours to improve the navigation of a river whose commerce

enriches the whole country?"

It may be expected, fellow-citizens, that I should say something on a

topic which agitates and distracts the public mind, I mean the

deranged state of the currency, and the general stagnation of business.

In giving my opinions on this topic, I wish it to be distinctly

understood, that I force them on no man. I am an independent man,

speaking to independent men. I think for myself; you, of course, enjoy

and exercise the same right. I cheerfully concede to every one the

liberty of differing with me in sentiment, readily granting that he

has as good chance of being right as myself, perhaps a better. But I

have some respect for my character as a public man. The present

state of things has grown out of a series of measures, to which I have

been in uniform opposition. In speaking of their consequences, I am

doing but justice to myself in showing them in justification of my

conduct. I am performing a duty to my fellow-citizens, who have a

right to know the opinions of every public man. The present state of

things is unparalleled in the annals of our country. The general

suspension of specie payments by the banks, beginning I know not

where, and ending I know not where, but comprehending the whole

country, has produced wide-spread ruin and confusion through the

land. To you the scene is one as yet of apprehension; to us, of deep

distress. You cannot understand, my fellow-citizens, nor can I describe

it so as to enable you to understand, the embarrassment and suffering

which are depressing the spirit and crushing the energies of the people

of the sea-girt States of the East. You are agriculturists, you

produce what you consume, and always have the means of living within

your reach. We depend on others for their agricultural productions;

we live by manufactures and commerce, of which credit is the

lifeblood. The destruction of credit is the destruction of our means

of living. The man who cannot fulfil his daily engagements, or with

whom others fail to fulfil theirs, must suffer for his daily bread.

And who are those who suffer? Not the rich, for they can generally take

care of themselves. Capital is ingenious and far-sighted, ready in

resources and fertile in expedients to shelter itself from impending

storms. Shut it out from one source of increase, and it will find

other avenues of profitable investment. It is the industrious, working

part of the community, men whose hands have grown hard by holding the

plough and pulling the oar, men who depend on their daily labor and

their daily pay, who, when the operations of trade and commerce are

checked and palsied, have no prospect for themselves and their families

but beggary and starvation,--it is these who suffer. All this has

been attributed to causes as different as can be imagined; over-trading,

over-buying, over-selling, over-speculating, over-production, terms

which I acknowledge I do not very well understand. I am at a loss to

conceive how a nation can become poor by over-production, producing

more than she can sell or consume. I do not see where there has been

over-trading, except in public lands; for when every thing else was

up to such an enormous price, and the public land tied down to one

dollar and a quarter an acre, who would not have bought it if he could?

These causes could not have produced all those consequences which have

occasioned such general lamentation. They must have proceeded from some

other source. And I now request you, my fellow-citizens, to bear

witness, that here, in this good city, on the banks of the Ohio, on the

first day of June, 1837, beneath the bright sun that is shining upon us,

I declare my conscientious conviction that they have proceeded from the

measures of the general government in relation to the currency. I make

this declaration in no spirit of enmity to its authors; I follow no man

with rebukes or reproaches. To reprobate the past will not alleviate the

evils of the present. It is the duty of every good citizen to contribute

his strength, however feeble, to diminish the burden under which a

people groans. To apply the remedy successfully, however, we must first

ascertain the causes, character, and extent of the evil.

Let us go back, then, to its origin. Forty-eight years have elapsed

since the adoption of our Constitution. For forty years of that time we

had a national bank. Its establishment originated in the imperious

obligation imposed on every government to furnish its people with a

circulating medium for their commerce. No matter how rich the citizen

may be in flocks and herds, in houses and lands, if his government does

not furnish him a medium of exchange, commerce must be confined to the

petty barter suggested by mutual wants and necessities, as they exist in

savage life. The history of all commercial countries shows that the

precious metals can constitute but a small part of this circulating

medium. The extension of commerce creates a system of credit; the

transmission of money from one part of the country to the other gives

birth to the business of exchange. To keep the value of this medium and

the rates of exchange equal and certain, was imperiously required by the

necessities of the times when the bank was established. Under the old

confederacy, each of the thirteen States established and regulated its

own money, which passed for its full value within the State, and was

useless the moment it crossed the State border. The little State of

Rhode Island, for instance, (I hope no son of hers present will take

offence at what I say,) so small that an Indiana man might almost cover

her territory with his hand, was crowded with banks. A man might have

been rich at Providence, but before he could travel to Boston, forty

miles distant, he would starve for want of money to pay for his

breakfast.

Had this state of things continued, some of the provisions of the

Constitution would have been of no force or virtue. Of what value to

Congress would have been the right to levy taxes, imposts, and duties,

and to regulate commerce among different States, and of what effect or

consequence the prohibition on the different States of levying and

collecting imposts, if each and every one of them had possessed the

right of paying her taxes and duties in a currency of her own, which

would not pass one hundred miles, perhaps, from the bank whence it was

issued? The creation of a national bank presented the surest means of

remedying these evils, and accomplishing one of the principal objects of

the Constitution, the establishment and maintenance of a currency whose

value would be uniform in every part of the country. During the forty

years it existed, under the two charters, we had no general suspension

of specie payments, as at present. We got along well with it, and I am

one of those who are disposed to let _well_ alone. I am content to

travel along the good old turnpike on which I have journeyed before with

comfort and expedition, without turning aside to try a new track. I must

confess that I do not possess that soaring self-respect, that lofty

confidence in my own political sagacity and foresight, which would

induce me to set aside the experience of forty years, and risk the ruin

of the country for the sake of an _experiment_. To this is all the

distress of the country attributable. This has caused such powerful

invasions of bank paper, like sudden and succeeding flights of birds of

prey and passage, and the rapid disappearance of specie at its approach.

You all know that bank-notes have been almost as plenty as the leaves of

the forest in the summer. But of what value are they to the holder, if

he is compelled to pay his debts in specie? And who can be expected to

pay his debts in this way, when the government has withdrawn the specie

from circulation?

You have not yet felt the evil in its full extent. It is mostly in

prospect, and you are watching its approach. While you are endeavoring

to guard against it, strive to prevent its future recurrence. As you

would hunt down, with hound and horn, the wolf who is making nightly

havoc of your flocks and herds, pursue and keep down those who would

make havoc in your business and property by experiments on our

currency.

Although the country has bowed beneath the pressure, I do not fear that

it will be broken down and prostrated in the dust. Depress them as it

may, the energy and industry of the people will enable them to rise

again. We have for a long time carried a load of bad government on our

shoulders, and we are still able to bear up under it. But I do not see

that, for that reason, we should be willing and eager to carry it. I do

not see why it should prevent us from wishing to lessen it as much as

possible, if not to throw it off altogether, when we know that we can

get along so much easier and faster without it. While we are exerting

ourselves with renewed industry and economy to recover from its

blighting effects, while we plough the land and plough the sea, let us

hasten the return of things to their proper state, by such political

measures as will best accomplish the desired end. Let us inform our

public servants of our wishes, and pursue such a course as will compel

them to obey us.

In conclusion, my fellow-citizens, I return you my thanks for the

patience and attention with which you have listened to me, and pray the

beneficent Giver of all good, that he may keep you under the shadow of

his wing, and continue to bless you with peace and prosperity.

FOOTNOTES

[110] A Speech delivered at Madison, in the State of Indiana, on the

first of June 1837, on Occasion of a Public Reception by the

Citizens of that Place.

PUBLIC DINNER IN FANEUIL HALL.

INTRODUCTORY NOTE.

On the return of Mr. Webster from the session in which he had

particularly signalized himself by the delivery of his masterly

speeches on the sub-treasury bill, and in reply to Mr. Calhoun

(contained in a subsequent volume of this collection), a large

number of his fellow-citizens of Boston could not be restrained from

manifesting their sense of his extraordinary efforts, in exhibiting

the true character of the odious sub-treasury project, and in

procuring its ultimate rejection by Congress. He was accordingly

invited to meet them at a public dinner, on the 24th of July, 1838.

More than fifteen hundred persons attended it, every ticket having

been eagerly taken as soon as issued. Every portion of the Hall,

floor and galleries, was filled. The Governor of the Commonwealth

(Hon. Edward Everett) presided at the table, and the spirit of the

occasion and of the company may be gathered from the following

remarks with which he introduced Mr. Webster to the assembly:

"And now, fellow-citizens," said he, "I rise to discharge the most

pleasing part of my duty, which I fear you will think I have too long

postponed; the duty which devolves on me, as the organ of your feelings

toward our distinguished guest, the senior Senator of the Commonwealth.

And yet, fellow-citizens, I appeal to you, that I have approached this

duty through the succession of ideas which most naturally conducts our

minds and hearts to the grateful topic. I have proposed to you, Our

country and its prosperity. Who among the great men, his contemporaries,

has more widely surveyed and comprehended the various interests of all

its parts? I have proposed, The Union of the States. What public man is

there living, whose political course has been more steadily consecrated

to its perpetuity? I have proposed to you, The Constitution. And who of

our statesmen, from the time of its framers, has more profoundly

investigated, more clearly expounded, more powerfully vindicated and

sustained it? But these topics I may pass over. They are matters which

have been long familiar to you; they need not any comment from me.

"The events of the last year, and of the last session of Congress, and

the present state of the country, invite our attention more particularly

to the recent efforts of our distinguished guest on the subject of THE

CURRENCY. I know not but some persons may think that undue importance

has been attached to the questions which have divided parties on this

subject; that these questions are not so vital to liberty as they have

been represented. But such an opinion would be erroneous. Undoubtedly

there are countries, not free ones, in which money questions, as

connected with the government, are of minor consequence. In China, in

Turkey, in Persia, I presume they are very little discussed. In these

countries the great question is, whether a man's head at night will be

found in the same pleasing and convenient proximity to his shoulders

that it was in the morning; and this is a kind of previous question,

which, if decided against him, cuts off all others. Under those

arbitrary governments of Europe, where the prince takes what he pleases,

and when he pleases, it is of very little moment where he deposits it,

on its way from the pockets of the people to his own. But it was

remarked by Edmund Burke, more than seventy years ago, that in England,

(and _a fortiori_ in the United States, that is, under constitutional

governments,) the great struggles for liberty had been almost always

money questions, and on this ground he excused the Americans for the

stand they took in opposition to a paltry tax. But, most certainly, the

money question, as it has been agitated among us, is vastly more

important, more intimately connected with constitutional liberty, than

that which brought on the Revolution. The question with our fathers was

one of a small tax; ours, of the entire currency. Theirs concerned three

pence per pound on tea, illegally levied; ours, the entire currency

illegally disposed of, the entire medium of circulation deranged, and

for a period annihilated, the whole business of the country, in all its

great branches, brought under the control of the treasury. The noble

stand, therefore, taken by our distinguished Senator in this controversy

has been upon points which concern the dearest interests of the people,

and the elemental principles of the government.

"In fact, I know not that a policy can be imagined more at war with

the true character of the government, than that which he has been

called to combat. The past and present administrations, relying too

confidently on the popular delusions which brought them into office,

have systematically defeated one of the great original objects for

which the Union was framed, that of a uniform medium of commerce. Nor

has the manner of their policy been less objectionable than its

design. They have crowded experiment upon experiment, with the fatal

recklessness of the rash engineer who urges the fires in his furnaces

till some noble steamer bursts in an awful explosion.[111] Our Senators

and Representatives, and their associates, could they have forgotten

that a revered Constitution and a beloved country were the chief

victims, might well have folded their arms, and left the authors of

the calamity to extricate themselves, as best they might, from the

ruin. But not thus have they understood their duty; and we have seen

them with admiration, in the last days of the session, gallantly

putting out in the life-boat of the Constitution, with an eye of

fire at the top, and an arm of iron at the helm, to cruise about on the

boiling waters, and pick up all that is left undestroyed. When I have

seen the adherents of the administration rejecting, so far as they

ventured, the salutary measures proposed or supported by our

distinguished guest and his associates, for the restoration of the

currency and the reestablishment of the public credit, and clinging to

all that events have spared of their discredited measures, they have

seemed to me to resemble the sun-stricken victims of a moody madness,

who, instead of thankfully embracing the proffered relief, would

prefer to float about on the weltering waters, clinging to the broken

planks and the shivered splinters of their exploded policy, sure as

they are, at the very best, if they reach solid ground, to do so

beneath the overwhelming surge of popular indignation.

"I should take up a great deal more time than belongs to me, did I

attempt even to sketch the distinguished services of our friend and

guest in this constitutional warfare. They are impressed on your

memories, and on your hearts. In the thickest of the conflict, his

plume, like that of Henry the Fourth of France, discerned from afar, has

pointed out the spot where, to use his own language, 'the blows fall

thickest and hardest'; and there he has been found, with the banner of

the Union above his head, and the flaming cimeter of the Constitution in

his hand. If the public mind has been thoroughly awakened to the

inconsistency of the government policy with the genius of our

institutions, if, to the experience we have all had of the pernicious

operation of this policy, there has been added a clear understanding of

the false principles, as well of constitutional law as of political

economy, on which it rests, how much of this is not fairly to be

ascribed to the efforts of our distinguished guest, efforts never

stinted in or out of Congress, repeated in every form which can persuade

the judgment or influence the conduct of men, never less than cogent,

eloquent, irrefutable, but in the last session of Congress, perhaps more

than ever before, grand, masterly, and overwhelming. It has indeed been

a rare, I had almost said a sublime spectacle, to see him, unsupported

by a majority in either house, opposed by the entire influence of the

government, denounced by the administration press from one end of the

Union to the other, yet carrying resolution after resolution against the

administration, carrying them alike against the old guard and the new

recruits, and, notwithstanding their abrupt and ill-compacted alliance,

compelling them, in spite of themselves, to afford some relief to the

country.

"These are the services, fellow-citizens, for which you this day

tender your thanks to your distinguished guest. These are the

services for which, Sir, on behalf of my fellow-citizens, I thank you;

for which they thank you themselves. Behold, Sir, how they rise to

pay you a manly homage.[112] The armies of Napoleon could not coerce it;

the wealth of the Indies could not buy it; but it is freely, joyously

paid, by fifteen hundred freemen, to the man of their affections. They

thank you for having stood by them in these dark times,--at all times.

They thank you, because they think they are beginning to feel the fruit

of your exertions in the daily round of their pursuits. They ascribe it

in no small degree to you, that the iron grasp of the government

policy has been relaxed; that its bolts and chains, relics of a

barbarous age, have been shivered as soon as forged, and before they

were riveted on the necks of the people. They thank you for having

stood by the Constitution, in which their all of human hope for

themselves and their children is enshrined. They thank you as one of

themselves; and because they know that your affections are with the

people from which you sprung. They thank you because you have at all

times shown, that, as the Whig blood of the Revolution circles in your

veins, the Whig principles of the Revolution are imprinted on your

heart. They thank you for the entire manliness of your course; that

you have never joined the treacherous cry of the 'hatred of the poor

against the rich,'--a cry raised by artful men, who think to flatter the

people, while in reality they are waging war against the people's

business, the people's prosperity, and the people's Constitution.

They are willing that this day's offering should be remembered, when

all this mighty multitude shall have passed from the stage. When

that day shall have arrived, history will have written your name on

one of her brightest pages; fame will have encircled your bust with

her greenest laurels; but neither history nor fame will have paid you a

truer, heartier tribute, than that which now, beneath the arches of

this venerable hall, in the approving presence of these images of our

canonized fathers, is tendered you by this great company of your

fellow-citizens.

"I give you, Gentlemen,--

"DANIEL WEBSTER,--the statesman and the man; whose name is engraven

alike on the pillars of the Constitution and the hearts of his

fellow-citizens. He is worthy of that place in the councils of the

nation which he fills in the affections of the people."

Mr. Webster then rose, amidst enthusiastic cheering, and addressed

the meeting in the following speech.

FOOTNOTES

[111] The disaster of the Pulaski occurred about the time of the

delivery of these remarks.

[112] The entire audience rose at this moment.

PUBLIC DINNER IN FANEUIL HALL.[113]

GENTLEMEN:--I shall be happy indeed, if the state of my health and the

condition of my voice shall enable me to express, in a few words, my

deep and heartfelt gratitude for this expression of your approbation. If

public life has its cares and its trials, it has occasionally its

consolations also. Among these, one of the greatest, and the chief, is

the approbation of those whom we have honestly endeavored to serve. This

cup of consolation you have now administered,--full, crowned, abundantly

overflowing.

It is my chief desire at this time, in a few spontaneous and

affectionate words, to render you the thanks of a grateful heart. When I

lately received your invitation in New York, nothing was farther from my

thoughts or expectations, than that I should meet such an assembly as I

now behold in Boston.

But I was willing to believe that it was not meant merely as a

compliment, which it was expected would be declined, but that it was in

truth your wish, at the close of the labors of a long session of

Congress, that I should meet you in this place, that we might mingle our

mutual congratulations, and that we might enjoy together one happy,

social hour.

The president of this assembly has spoken of the late session as having

been not only long, but arduous; and, in some respects, it does deserve

to be so regarded. I may indeed say, that, in an experience of twenty

years of public life, I have never yet encountered labors or anxieties

such as this session brought with it.

With a short intermission in the autumn, so short as not to allow the

more distant members to visit their homes, we have been in continual

session from the early part of September to the 9th of July, a period of

ten months.[114] On our part, during this whole time, we have been

contending in minorities against majorities; majorities, indeed, not to

be relied on for all measures, as the event has proved, but still

acknowledged and avowed majorities, professing general attachment and

support to the measures, and to the men, of the administration. My own

object, and that of those with whom I have had the honor to act, has

been steady and uniform. That object was, to resist new theories, new

schemes, new and dangerous projects, until time could be gained for

their consideration by the people. This was our great purpose, and its

accomplishment required no slight effort. It was the commencement of a

new Congress. The organization of the two houses showed clear and

decisive administration majorities. The administration itself was new,

and had come into its fresh power with something of the popularity of

that which preceded it. It was no child's play, therefore, to resist,

successfully, its leading measures, for so long a period as should allow

time for an effectual appeal to the people, pressed, as those measures

were, with the utmost zeal and assiduity.

The president of the day has alluded in a very flattering manner to my

own exertions and efforts, made at different times, in connection with

the leading topics. But I claim no particular merit for myself. In what

I have done, I have only acted with others. I have acted, especially,

with my most estimable, able, and excellent colleague,[115] and with

the experienced and distinguished men who form the delegation of

Massachusetts in the House of Representatives, a delegation of which

any State might be justly proud. We have acted together, as men

holding, in almost all cases, common opinions, and laboring for a

common end. It gives me great pleasure to have the honor of seeing so

many of the Representatives of the State in Congress here to-day; but I

must not be prevented, even by their presence, from bearing my humble

but hearty testimony to the fidelity and ability with which they have,

in this arduous struggle, performed their public duties. The crisis has,

indeed, demanded the efforts of all; and we of Massachusetts, while we

hope we have done our duty, have done it only in concurrence with

other Whigs, whose zeal, ability, and exertions can never be too much

commended.

This is not an occasion in which it is fit or practicable to discuss

very minutely, and at length, the questions which have been chiefly

agitated during this long and laborious session of Congress. Yet, so

important is the great and general question, which, for the last twelve

or fifteen months, has been presented to the consideration of the

legislature, that I deem it proper, on this, as on all occasions, to

state, at the risk of some repetition, perhaps, what is the nature of

that important question, and briefly to advert to some of the

circumstances in which it had its origin.

Whatever subordinate questions may have been raised touching a

sub-treasury, or a constitutional treasury, or a treasury in one, or in

another, or in yet a third form, I take the question, the plain, the

paramount, the practical question, to be this; namely, whether it be

among the powers and the duties of Congress to take any further care of

the national currency than to regulate the coinage of gold and silver.

That question lies at the foundation of all. Other questions, however

multiplied or varied, have but grown out of that.

If government is bound to take care that there is a good currency for

all the country, then, of course, it will have a good currency for

itself, and need take no especial pains to provide for itself any thing

peculiar. But if, on the other hand, government is at liberty to abandon

the general currency to its fate, without concern and without remorse,

then, from necessity, it must take care of itself; amidst the general

wreck of currency and credit, it must have places of resort and a system

of shelter; it must have a currency of its own, and modes of payment and

disbursement peculiar to itself. It must burrow and hide itself in

sub-treasury vaults. Scorning credit, and having trust in nobody, it

must grasp metallic money, and act as if nothing represented, or could

represent, property, which could not be counted, paid piece by piece, or

weighed in the scales, and made to ring upon the table; or it must

resort to special deposits in banks, even in those banks whose conduct

has been so loudly denounced as flagitious and criminal, treacherous to

the government, and fraudulent towards the people. All these schemes and

contrivances are but the consequences of the general doctrine which the

administration has advanced, and attempted to recommend to the country;

that is, that Congress has nothing to do with the currency, beyond the

mere matter of coinage, except to provide for itself. How such a notion

should come to be entertained, at this day, may well be a matter of

wonder for the wise; since it is a truth capable of the clearest

demonstration, that, from the first day of the existence of the

Constitution, from the moment when a practical administration of

government drew a first breath under its provisions, the superintendence

and care over the currency of the country have been admitted to be among

the clear and unquestioned powers and duties of Congress. This was the

opinion in Washington's time, and his administration acted upon it,

vigorously and successfully. And in Mr. Madison's time, when the

peculiar circumstances of the country again brought up the subject, and

gave it new importance, it was held to be the exclusive, or at least the

paramount and unquestioned, right of Congress to take care of the

currency; to restore it when depreciated; to see that there was a sound,

convertible paper circulation, suited to the circumstances of the

country, and having equal value, and the same credit, in all parts of

it. This was Mr. Madison's judgment. He acted upon it; and both houses

of Congress concurred with him. But if we now quote Mr. Madison's

sentiments, we get no reply at all from the friends of the government

system. We may read his messages of 1815 and 1816 as often as we please.

No man answers them, and yet the party of the administration, professing

to belong to Mr. Madison's political school, acts upon directly opposite

principles.

Now, what has brought about this state of things? What has caused this

attempt, now made, at the end of half a century, to change a great

principle of administration, and to surrender a most important power of

the government? Gentlemen, it has been a crisis of party, not of the

country, which has given birth to these new sentiments. The tortuous

windings of party policy have conducted us, and nothing else could well

have conducted us, to such a point. Nothing but party pledges, nothing

but courses of political conduct entered upon for party purposes, and

pursued from necessary regard to personal and party consistency, could

so far have pushed the government out of its clear and well-trodden path

of constitutional duty. From General Washington's presidency to the last

hour of the late President's, both the government and the country have

supposed Congress to be clothed with the general duty of protecting the

currency, either as an inference from the coinage power or from the

obvious and incontestable truth, that the regulation of the currency is

naturally and plainly a branch of the commercial power. General Jackson

himself was behind no one of his predecessors in asserting this power,

and in acknowledging the corresponding duty. We all know that his very

first complaint against the late Bank of the United States was, that it

had not fulfilled the expectation of the country, by furnishing for the

use of the people a sound and uniform currency. There were many persons,

certainly, who did not agree with him in his opinions respecting the

bank and the effects of its agency on the country; but it was expressly

on the ground of this alleged failure of the bank, that he undertook

what was called the great reform. There are those, again, who think that

of this attempted reform he made a very poor and sorry business; but

still the truth is, that he undertook this reform for the very purpose

professed and avowed, that he might fulfil better than it had yet been

fulfilled the duty of government in furnishing the people with a good

currency. The President thought that the currency, in 1832 and 1833, was

not good enough; that the people had a right to expect a better; and to

meet this expectation, he began what he himself called his experiment.

He said the currency was not so sound, and so uniform, as it was the

duty of government to make it; and he therefore undertook to give us a

currency more sound and more uniform. And now, Gentlemen, let us recur

shortly to what followed; for there we shall find the origin of the

present constitutional notions and dogmas. Let us see what has changed

the Constitution in this particular.

In 1833, the public deposits were removed, by an act of the President

himself, from the Bank of the United States, and placed in certain State

banks, under regulations prescribed by the executive alone. This was the

experiment. The utmost confidence, indeed, an arrogant and intolerant

confidence, was entertained and expressed of its success; and all who

doubted were regarded as blind bigots to a national bank. When the

experiment was put into operation, it was proclaimed that its success

was found to be complete. Down to the very close of General Jackson's

administration, we heard of nothing but the wonderful success of the

experiment. It was declared, from the highest official sources, that the

State banks, used as banks of deposit, had not only shown themselves

perfectly competent to fulfil the duties of fiscal agents to government,

but also that they had sustained the currency, and facilitated the great

business of internal exchanges, with the most singular and gratifying

success, and better than the same thing had been done before. In all

this glow and fervor of self-commendation, the late administration went

out of office, having bequeathed the experiment, with all its blushing

honors and rising glories, to its successor. But a frost, a nipping

frost, was at hand. Two months after General Jackson had retired, the

banks suspended specie payments, deposit banks and all; a universal

embarrassment smote down the business and industry of the country; the

treasury was left without a dollar, and the brilliant glory of the

experiment disappeared in gloom and thick darkness! And now, Gentlemen,

came the change of sentiments, now came the new reading of the

Constitution. A national bank had already been declared by the party to

be unconstitutional, the State bank system had failed, and what more

could be done? What other plan was to be devised? How could the duty of

government over the currency be now performed? The administration had

decried a national bank, and it now felt bound to denounce all State

institutions; and what, therefore, could it do? The whole party had laid

out its entire strength, in an effort to render the late Bank of the

United States, and any bank of the United States, unpopular and odious.

It had pronounced all such institutions to be dangerous, anti-republican

and monarchical. It had, especially, declared a national bank to be

plainly and clearly unconstitutional. Now, Gentlemen, I have nothing to

say of the diffidence and modesty of men, who without hesitation or

blushing, set up their own favorite opinions on a question of this kind

against the judgment of the government and the judgment of the country,

maintained for fifty years. I will only remark, that, if we were to find

men acting thus in their own affairs, if we should find them disposing

of their own interests, or making arrangements for their own property,

in contempt of rules which they knew the legislative and the judicial

authorities had all sanctioned for half a century, we should be very

likely to think them out of their heads. Yet this ground had been taken

against the late bank, and against all national banks; and it could not

be surrendered without apparent and gross inconsistency. What, then, I

ask again, was the administration to do? You may say, it should have

retracted its error, it should have seen the necessity of a national

institution, and yielded to the general judgment of the country.

But that would have required an effort of candor and magnanimity, of

which all men are not capable. Besides, there were open, solemn, public

pledges in the way. This commitment of the party against a national

bank, and the disastrous results of its experiment on the State

institutions, brought the party into a difficulty, from which it seemed

to have no escape, but in shifting off, altogether, the duty of taking

care of the currency. I was at Wheeling, in Virginia, in May of last

year, when the banks suspended payment; and, at the risk of some

imputation of bad taste, I will refer to observations of mine made then,

to the citizens of that town, and published, in regard to the questions

which that event would necessarily bring before the country.[116] I saw

at once that we were at the commencement of a new era, and that a

controversy must arise, which would greatly excite the community.

No sooner had the State banks suspended specie payments, and among the

rest those which were depositories of the government, than a cry of

fraud and treachery was raised against them, with no better reason,

perhaps, than existed for that loud, and boisterous, and boastful

confidence, with which the late administration had spoken of their

capacity of usefulness, and had assured the country that its experiment

could not fail. But whether the suspension by the banks was a matter of

necessity with them, or not, the administration, after it had happened,

seeing itself now shut out from the use of all banks by its own declared

opinions and the results of its own policy, and seeing no means at hand

for making another attempt at reforming the currency, turned a short

corner, and in all due form denied that the government had any duty of

the kind to discharge. From the time of the veto of the bank charter, in

1832, the administration had been like a man who had voluntarily

deserted a safe bottom, on deep waters, and, having in vain sought to

support himself by laying hold on one and another piece of floating

timber, chooses rather to go down than to seek safety in returning to

what he has abandoned.

Seeing that it had deprived itself of the common means of regulating

the currency, it now denied its obligation to do so; declared it had

nothing to do with the currency beyond coinage; that it would take

care of the revenues of the government, and as for the rest, the people

must look out for themselves. This decision thus evidently grew out of

party necessity. Having deprived themselves of the ordinary and

constitutional means of performing their duty, they sought to avoid

the responsibility by declaring that there was no such duty to

perform. They have looked further into the Constitution, and examined it

by daylight and by moonlight, and cannot find any such duty or

obligation. Though General Jackson saw it very plainly, during the

whole course of his presidency, it has now vanished, and the new

commentators can nowhere discern a vestige of it. The present

administration, indeed, stood pledged to tread in the steps of its

predecessor; but here was one footprint which it could not, or would

not, occupy, or one stride too long for it to take. The message, I had

almost said the fatal message, communicated to Congress in September,

contained a formal disavowal, by the administration, of all power

under the Constitution to regulate the general actual currency of the

country.

The President says, in that message, that if he refrains from suggesting

to Congress any specific plan for regulating the exchanges, relieving

mercantile embarrassments, or interfering with the ordinary operations

of foreign or domestic commerce, it is from the conviction that such

measures are not within the constitutional provision of government.

How all this could be said, when the Constitution expressly gives to

Congress the power to regulate commerce, both foreign and domestic, I

cannot conceive. But the Constitution was not to be trifled with, and

the people are not to be trifled with. The country, I believe, by a

great majority, is of opinion that this duty _does belong_ to

government, and ought to be exercised. All the new expounders have not

been able to erase this general power over commerce, and all that

belongs to commerce. Their fate, in this respect, is like that of him in

ancient story. While endeavoring to tear up and rend asunder the

Constitution, its strong fibres have recoiled, and caught them in the

cleft. They experience

"Milo's fearful end,

Wedged in the timber which they strove to rend."

Gentlemen, this constitutional power can never be surrendered. We may as

well give up the whole commercial power at once, and throw every thing

connected with it back upon the States. If Congress surrender the power,

to whom shall it pass, or where shall it be lodged? Shall it be left to

six-and-twenty different legislatures? To eight hundred or a thousand

unconnected State banks? No, Gentlemen, to allow that authority to be

surrendered would be to abandon the vessel of state, without pilot or

helm, and to suffer her to roll, darkling, down the current of her

fate.

For the sake of avoiding all misapprehensions on this most important

subject, I wish to state my own opinion, clearly, and in few words. I

have never said, that it is an indispensable duty in Congress, under all

circumstances, to establish a national bank. No such duty, certainly, is

created by the Constitution, in express terms. I did not say _what

particular measures_ are enjoined by the Constitution, in this respect.

Congress has its discretion, and is left to its own judgment, as to the

means most proper to be employed. But I say the general duty does

exist.

I maintain that Congress is bound to take care, by some proper means, to

secure a good currency for the people; and that, while this duty remains

unperformed, one great object of the Constitution is not attained. If we

are to have as many different currencies as there are States, and these

currencies are to be liable to perpetual fluctuation, it would be folly

to say that we had reached that security and uniformity in commercial

regulation, which we know it was the purpose of the Constitution to

establish.

The banks may all resume specie payments to-morrow,--I hope they will;

but how much will this resumption accomplish? It will doubtless afford

good local currencies; but will it give the country any proper and safe

paper currency, of equal and universal value? Certainly it cannot, and

will not. Will it bring back, for any length of time, exchanges to the

state they were in when there was a national currency in existence?

Certainly, in my opinion, it will not. We may heap gold bags upon gold

bags, we may create what securities, in the constitution of local banks,

we please, but we cannot give to any such bank a character that shall

insure the receipt of its notes, with equal readiness, everywhere

throughout the valley of the Mississippi, and from the shores of the

Gulf of Mexico to the St. Lawrence. Nothing can accomplish this, but an

institution which is national in its character. The people desire to

see, in their currency, the marks of this nationality. They like to see

the spread eagle, and where they see that they have confidence.

Who, if he will look at the present state of things, is not wise

enough to see that there is much and deep cause for fear in regard

to the future, unless the government will take the subject of

currency under its own control, as it ought to do. For one, I think I

see trouble ahead, and I look for effectual prevention and remedy

only to a just exercise of the powers of Congress. I look not without

apprehension upon the creation of numerous and powerful State

institutions, full of competition and rivalry, and under no common

control. I look for other and often-repeated expansions of paper

circulation, inflations of trade, and general excess; and then, again,

for other violent ebbings of the swollen flood, ending in other

suspensions. I see no steadiness, no security, till the government of

the United States shall fulfil its constitutional duty. I shall be

disappointed, certainly, if, for any length of time, the benefits of a

sound and uniform convertible paper currency can be enjoyed, while the

whole subject is left to six-and-twenty States, and to eight hundred

local banks, all anxious for the use of money and the use of credit in

the highest degree.

As I have already said, these sub-treasury schemes are but contrivances

for getting away from a disagreeable duty. And, after all, there are

scarcely any two of the friends of the administration who can agree

upon the same sub-treasury scheme. Each has a plan of his own. One man

requires that all banks shall be discarded, and nothing but gold and

silver shall be received for revenue. Another will exclaim, "That won't

do; that's not my thunder." Another would prohibit all the small notes,

and another would banish all the large ones. Another is for a special

deposit scheme; for making the banks sub-treasuries and depositories;

for making sub-treasuries of the broken, rotten, treacherous banks; for

taking bank-notes, tying them up with red strings, depositing them in

the vaults, and paying them out again.

It has been the proposition of the administration to separate the money

of the government from the money of the people; to secure a good medium

of payments, for the use of the treasury, in collecting and disbursing

revenue, and to take no care of the general circulation of the country.

This is the sum of its policy. Looking upon this whole scheme but as an

abandonment of clear constitutional obligation, I have opposed it, in

every form in which it has been presented. My object, as I have already

said, and that of those with whom I acted, has been, to prevent the

sanction of all or any of these new projects, by authority of law, until

another Congress should be elected, which might express the will of the

people formed after the present state of things arose. In this object we

have succeeded. If we have done little positive good, we have at least

prevented the introduction and establishment of new theories and new

contrivances, and we have preserved the Constitution, in this respect,

entire. No surrender or abandonment of important powers is, as yet,

indorsed on the parchment of that instrument. No new clause is appended

to it, making its provisions a mere _non obstante_ to executive

discretion. It has been snatched from the furnace. From this furnace of

party contention, heated seven times hotter than it has been wont to be

heated, the Constitution has been rescued, and we may hold it up to the

people this day, and tell them that even the smell of the fire is not

upon it.

But now, Gentlemen, a stronger arm must be put forth. A mightier

guardianship must now interfere. Time has been gained for public

discussion and consideration, and the great result is now with the

people. That they will ultimately decide right, I have the fullest

confidence. Party attachment and party patronage, it is true, may do

much to delay the results of general opinion, but they cannot long

resist the convictions of a whole people. It is most certain that, up to

the present hour, this new policy has been most unfavorably received.

State after State has fallen off from the ranks of the administration,

on account of its promulgation, and of the persevering attempt to raise

upon it a system of legal, practical administration. The message of

September completed the list of causes necessary to produce a popular

revolution in sentiment in Maine, Ohio, New Jersey, and New York. Since

the proposition was renewed, at the late session, we have witnessed a

similar revolution in Connecticut and Louisiana, and very important

changes, perhaps equivalent to revolutions, in the strength of parties

in other States. There is little reason to doubt, if all the electors of

the country could be polled to-day, that a great and decisive majority

would be found against all this strange policy. Yet, Gentlemen, I do not

consider the question, by any means, as decided. The policy is not

abandoned. It is to be persisted in. Its friends look for a reaction in

public opinion. I think I understand their hopes and expectations. They

rely on this _reaction_. Every thing is to be accomplished by

_reaction_. A month ago, this reaction was looked for to show itself in

Louisiana. Altogether disappointed in that quarter, the friends of the

policy now stretch their hopes to the other extremity of the Union, and

look for it in Maine. In my opinion, Gentlemen, there can be no reaction

which can reconcile the people of this country to the policy at present

pursued.

There must, in my opinion, be a change. If the administration will not

change its course, it must be changed itself. But I repeat, that the

decision now lies with the people; and in that decision, when it shall

be fairly pronounced, I shall cheerfully acquiesce. We ought to address

ourselves, on this great and vital question, to the whole people, to the

candid and intelligent of all parties. We should exhibit its magnitude,

its essential consequence to the Constitution, and its infinite

superiority to all ordinary strifes of party. We may well and truly say,

that it is a new question; that the great mass of the people, of any

party, is not committed on it; and it is our duty to invoke all true

patriots, all who wish for the well-being of the government and the

country, to resist these experiments upon the Constitution, and this

wild and strange departure from our hitherto approved and successful

policy.

At the same time, Gentlemen, while we thus invoke aid from all quarters,

we must not suffer ourselves to be deceived. We must yield to no

expedients, to no schemes and projects unknown to the Constitution, and

alien to our own history and our habits. We are to be saved, if saved at

all, _in_ the Constitution, not _out_ of it. None can aid us, none can

aid the country, by any thing in the nature of mere political project,

nor can any _devices_ supply the place of regular constitutional

administration. It was to prevent, or to remedy, such a state of things

as now exists, that the Constitution was formed and adopted. The time

when there is a disordered currency, and a distracted commerce, is the

very time when its agency is required; and I hope those who wish for a

restoration of general prosperity will look steadily to the light which

the Constitution sheds on the path of duty.

As to you and me, fellow-citizens, our course is not doubtful. However

others may decide, we hold on to the Constitution, and to all its

powers, as they have been authentically expounded, and practically and

successfully experienced, for a long period. Our interests, our habits,

our affections, all bind us to the principles of our Union as our

leading and guiding star.

Gentlemen, I cannot resume my seat without again expressing my sense of

gratitude for your generous appreciation of my services. I have the

pleasure to know that this festival originated with the Boston

mechanics, a body always distinguished, always honored, always

patriotic, from the first dawn of the Revolution to the present time.

Who is here, whose father has not told him--there are some here old

enough to know it themselves--that they were Boston mechanics whose

blood reddened State Street on the memorable 5th of March. And as the

tendencies of the Revolution went forward, and times grew more and more

critical, it was the Boston mechanics who composed, to a great extent,

the crowds which frequented the old Whig head-quarters in Union Street;

which assembled, as occasion required patriots to come together, in the

Old South; or filled to suffocation this immortal Cradle of American

Liberty.

When Independence was achieved, their course was alike intelligent,

wise, and patriotic. They saw, as quick and as fully as any men in the

country, the infirmities of the old Confederation, and discerned the

means by which they might be remedied. From the first, they were ardent

and zealous friends of the present Constitution. They saw the necessity

of united councils, and common regulations, for all the States, in

matters of trade and commerce. They saw, what indeed is obvious enough,

that their interest was completely involved with that of the mercantile

class, and other classes; and that nothing but one general, uniform

system of commerce, trade, and imports could possibly give to the

business and industry of the country vigor and prosperity. When the

convention for acting on the Constitution sat in this city, and the

result of its deliberations was doubtful, the mechanics assembled at the

Green Dragon tavern, and passed the most firm and spirited resolutions

in favor of the Constitution; and when these resolutions were presented

to the Boston delegation, by a committee of which Colonel Revere was

chairman, they were asked by one of the members, how many mechanics were

at the meeting; to which Colonel Revere answered, "More than there are

stars in heaven." With statesmanlike sagacity, they foresaw the

advantages of a united government. They celebrated, therefore, the

adoption of the Constitution by rejoicings and festivals, such, perhaps,

as have not since been witnessed. Emblematic representations, long

processions of all the trades, and whatever else might contribute to the

joyous demonstration of gratified patriotism, distinguished the

occasion. Gentlemen, I can say with great truth, that an occasion

intended to manifest respect to me could have originated nowhere with

more satisfaction to myself than with the mechanics of Boston.

I am bound to make my acknowledgments to other classes of citizens who

assemble here to join with the mechanics in the purpose of this meeting.

I see with pleasure the successors and followers of the Mathers, of

Clarke, and of Cooper; and I am gratified, also, by the presence of

those of my own profession, in whose immediate presence and society so

great a portion of my life has been passed. It is natural that I should

value highly this proof of their regard. We have walked the same paths,

we have listened to the same oracles, we have been guided together by

the lights of Dana, and Parsons, and Sewall, and Parker, not to mention

living names, not unknown or unhonored either at home or abroad. As I

honor the profession, so I honor and respect its worthy members, as

defenders of truth, as supporters of law and liberty, as men who ever

act on steady principles of honor and justice, and from whom no one,

with a right cause, is turned away, though he may come clothed in rags.

Mingling in this vast assembly, I perceive, Gentlemen, many citizens who

bear an appellation which is honored, and which deserves to be honored,

wherever a spirit of enlightened liberality, humanity, and charity finds

regard and approbation among men, I mean the appellation of Boston

merchants. In a succession of generations, they have contributed

uniformly to great objects of public interest and advantage. They have

founded institutions of learning, of piety, and of charity. They have

explored the field of human misfortune and calamity; they have sought

out the causes of vice, and want, and ignorance, and have sought them

only that they might be removed and extirpated. They have poured out

like water the wealth acquired by their industry and honorable

enterprise, to relieve the necessities of poverty, administer comfort to

the wretched, soothe the ravings of distressed insanity, open the eyes

of the blind, unstop the ears of the deaf, and shed the light of

knowledge, and the reforming influences of religion where ignorance and

crime have abounded. How am I to commend, not only single acts of

benevolence, but whole lives of benevolence, such as this? May He reward

them,--may that Almighty Being reward them, in whose irreversible

judgment, in that day which is to come, the merit even of the widow's

mite shall outweigh the advantages of all the pomp and grandeur of the

world!

Gentlemen, citizens of Boston, I have been in the midst of you for

twenty years. It is nearly sixteen years since, quite unexpectedly to

myself, you saw fit to require public service at my hands and to place

me in the national legislature. If, in that long period, you have found

in my public conduct something to be approved, and more to be forgiven

than to be reprehended, and if we meet here to-day better friends for so

many years of acquaintance and mutual confidence, I may well esteem

myself happy in the enjoyment of a high reward.

I offer you again, fellow-citizens, my grateful acknowledgments, and

all my sincere and cordial good wishes; and I propose to you as a

toast:--

"The City of Boston: May it continue to be the head-quarters of good

principles, till the blood of the Revolutionary patriots shall have run

through a thousand generations!"

FOOTNOTES

[113] Speech delivered at a Public Dinner in Faneuil Hall, given by the

Citizens of Boston to Mr. Webster, at the Close of the Session

of Congress, on the 24th of July, 1838.

[114] An extra session of Congress had been called by President Van

Buren, in September, 1837, in consequence of the general

suspension of specie payments by the banks.

[115] Hon. John Davis.

[116] See the Speech above, page 383.

ROYAL AGRICULTURAL SOCIETY.[117]

In the spring of 1839, Mr. Webster went for a short time to England.

He went in no public capacity, but his reputation had preceded him,

and he was received with every mark of the most distinguished

consideration. He was present at several public festivals, and his

addresses appear to have made a deep impression on those who heard

them. The following is the only one, however, which was reported at

any length. It was delivered at the first Triennial Celebration of

the Royal Agricultural Society, held at Oxford, on the 18th of July.

Three thousand persons were at table. Earl Spencer presided, and, in

introducing Mr. Webster, said they had "already drunk the health of

a foreign minister who was present, but they had the honor and

advantage of having among them other foreigners, not employed in any

public capacity, who had come among them for the purpose of seeing a

meeting of English farmers, such as he believed never had been

witnessed before, but which he hoped might often be seen again.

Among these foreigners was one gentleman, of a most distinguished

character, from the United States of America, that great country,

whose people we were obliged legally to call foreigners, but who

were still our brethren in blood. It was most gratifying to him that

such a man was present at that meeting, that he might know what the

farmers of England really were, and be able to report to his

fellow-citizens the manner in which they were united, from every

class, in promoting their peaceful and most important objects." He

gave,--

"The health of Mr. Webster, and other distinguished strangers."

The toast was received with much applause.

MR. WEBSTER said the notice which the noble Earl at the head of the

table had been kind enough to take of him, and the friendly sentiments

which he had seen fit to express towards the country to which he

belonged, demanded his most cordial acknowledgments. He should therefore

begin by saying how much he was gratified in having it in his power to

pass one day among the proprietors, the cultivators, the farmers, of Old

England; that England of which he had been reading and conversing all

his life, and now for once had the pleasure of visiting.

I would say, in the next place, continued Mr. Webster, if I could say,

how much I have been pleased and gratified with one portion of the

exhibition for which we are indebted to the formation of the Royal

Agricultural Society, and that is, the assemblage of so large a number

of the farmers of England. When persons connected with some pursuit, of

whatever description, assemble in such numbers, I cannot look on them

but with respect and regard; but I freely confess that I am more than

ordinarily moved on all such occasions, when I see before me, on either

continent, a great assemblage of those whose interests, whose hopes,

whose objects and pursuits in life, are connected with the cultivation

of the soil.

Whatever else may tend to enrich and beautify society, that which feeds

and clothes comfortably the great mass of mankind should always be

regarded as the great foundation of national prosperity. I need not say

that the agriculture of England is instructive to all the world; as a

science, it is here better understood; as an art, it is here better

practised; as a great interest, it is here as highly esteemed as in any

other part of the globe.

The importance of agriculture to a nation is obvious to every man; but

it, perhaps, does not strike every mind so suddenly, although certainly

it is equally true, that the annual produce of English agriculture is a

great concern to the whole civilized world. The civilized and commercial

states are so connected, their interests are so blended, that it is a

matter of notoriety, that the fear or the prospect of a short crop in

England deranges and agitates the business transactions and commercial

speculations of the whole trading world.

It is natural that this should be the case in those nations which look

to the occurrence of a short crop in England as an occasion which may

enable them to dispose profitably of their own surplus produce. But the

fact goes much farther, for when such an event occurs in the English

capital,--the centre of commercial speculations, where the price of

commodities is settled and arranged for the whole world, where the

exchanges between nations are conducted and concluded,--its consequences

are felt everywhere, as no one knows better than the noble Earl who

occupies the chair. Should there be a frost in England fifteen days

later than usual in the spring, should there be an unseasonable drought,

or ten cold and wet days, instead of ten warm and dry ones, when the

harvest is reaped, every exchange in Europe and America is more or less

affected by the result.

I will not pursue these remarks. [Loud cries of "Go on! Go on!"] I must,

however, say, that I entertain not the slightest doubt of the great

advantage to the interest of agriculture which must result from the

formation and operation of this society. Is it not obvious to the most

common observer, that those who cultivate the soil have not the same

conveniences, opportunities, and facilities of daily intercourse and

comparison of opinions, as the commercial and manufacturing interests?

Those who are associated in the pursuits of commerce and manufactures

naturally congregate together in cities; they have immediate means of

frequent communication. Their sympathies, feelings, and opinions are

instantaneously circulated, like electricity, through the whole body.

But how is it with the cultivators of the soil? Separated, spread

over a thousand fields, each attentive to his own acres, they have

only occasional opportunities of communicating with each other. If

among commercial men chambers of commerce, and other institutions of

that character,--if among the trades guilds are found expedient, how

much more necessary and advisable to have some such institutions as

this society, which, at least annually, shall bring together the

representatives of the great agricultural interest!

In many parts of the country to which I belong, there are societies

upon a similar principle, which have been found very advantageous.

As with you, they offer rewards for specimens of fine animals, and for

implements of husbandry supposed to excel those which have been known

before. They turn their attention to every thing designed to facilitate

the operations of the farmer, and improve his stock, and interest in the

country. Among other means of improving agriculture, they have

imported largely from the best breeds of animals known in England. I am

sure that a gentleman who has to-day deservedly obtained many prizes

for stock will not be displeased to learn that I have seen, along the

rich pastures of the Ohio and its tributary streams, animals raised

from those which had been furnished by his farms in Yorkshire and

Northumberland.

But, apart from this subject, I beg leave to make a short response to

the very kind sentiments, which went near to my heart, as uttered by the

noble Earl at the head of the table.

The noble chairman was pleased to speak of the people of the United

States as kindred in blood with the people of England. I am an American.

I was born on that great continent and I am wedded to the fortunes of my

country, for weal or for woe. There is no other region of the earth

which I can call my country. But I know, and I am proud to know, what

blood flows in these veins.

I am happy to stand here to-day, and to remember, that, although my

ancestors, for several generations, lie buried beneath the soil of the

western continent, yet there has been a time when my ancestors and your

ancestors toiled in the same cities and villages, cultivated adjacent

fields, and worked together to build up that great structure of civil

polity which has made England what England is.

When I was about to embark for this country, some friends asked me what

I was going to England for. To be sure, Gentlemen, I came for no object

of business, public or private; but I told them I was coming to see the

elder branch of the family. I told them I was coming to see my distant

relations, my kith and kin of the old Saxon race.

With regard to whatsoever is important to the peace of the world, its

prosperity, the progress of knowledge and of just opinions, the

diffusion of the sacred light of Christianity, I know nothing more

important to the promotion of those best interests of humanity, and the

cause of the general peace, amity, and concord, than the good feeling

subsisting between the Englishmen on this side of the Atlantic, and the

descendants of Englishmen on the other.

Some little clouds have overhung our horizon,--I trust they will soon

pass away. I am sure that the age we live in does not expect that

England and America are to have controversies carried to the extreme,

upon any occasion not of the last importance to national interests and

honor.

We live in an age when nations, as well as individuals, are subject to a

moral responsibility. Neither governments nor people--thank God for

it!--can now trifle with the general sense of the civilized world; and I

am sure that the civilized world would hold your country and my country

to a very strict account, if, without very plain and apparent reason,

deeply affecting the independence and great interests of the nation, any

controversy between them should have other than an amicable issue.

I will venture to say that each country has intelligence enough to

understand all that belongs to its just rights, and is not deficient in

means to maintain them; and if any controversy between England and

America were to be pushed to the extreme of force, neither party would

or could have any signal advantage over the other, except what it could

find in the justice of its cause and the approbation of the world.

With respect to the occasion which has called us together, I beg to

repeat the gratification which I have felt in passing a day in such a

company, and to conclude with the most fervent expression of my wish for

the prosperity and usefulness of the Agricultural Society of England.

FOOTNOTES

[117] Address at the Triennial Celebration of the Royal Agricultural

Society of England, at Oxford on the 18th of July, 1839.

THE AGRICULTURE OF ENGLAND.[118]

Mr. Webster has at all periods of life cherished a strong attachment

to agricultural pursuits. Of late years, when not obliged to be at

Washington, in the discharge of his public duties, he has resided

wholly on his farm at Marshfield, Massachusetts. The condition of

the agriculture of England was one of the objects which most

received his attention, during his short visit to that country in

1839. On his return to the United States in January, 1840, a strong

desire was entertained by his friends to meet him on some public

occasion, and a wish was expressed, particularly by many members of

the Legislature of Massachusetts, who were in the habit of holding

occasional meetings for the discussion of agricultural subjects, to

learn the result of his observations on the present state of English

agriculture. These wishes were communicated to Mr. Webster, and an

early day was appointed for a meeting, at which the following

remarks were made by him.

MR. CHAIRMAN, I would observe in the outset of these remarks, that I

regard agriculture as the leading interest of society; and as having, in

all its relations, a direct and intimate bearing upon human comfort and

the national prosperity. I have been familiar with its operations in my

youth; and I have always looked upon the subject with a lively and deep

interest. I do not esteem myself to be particularly qualified to judge

of the subject in all its various aspects and departments; and I neither

myself regard, nor would I have others regard, my opinions as

authoritative. But the subject has been one of careful observation to

me, both in public and private life; and my visit to Europe, at a season

of the year particularly favorable for this purpose, has given me the

opportunity of seeing its improved husbandry, and as far as it may be

interesting, or can have a bearing upon the subject of the evening's

discussion, the agriculture of Massachusetts, I will, as the meeting

appear to expect, say a few words upon what has attracted my notice.

How far, in a question of this kind, the example of other countries is

to be followed, is an inquiry worthy of much consideration. The example

of a foreign country may be too closely followed. It will furnish a safe

rule of imitation only as far as the circumstances of the one country

correspond with those of the other.

The great objects of agriculture, and the great agricultural products of

England and of Massachusetts, are much the same. Neither country

produces olives, nor rice, nor cotton, nor the sugar-cane. Bread, meat,

and clothing are the main productions of both. But, although the great

productions are mainly the same, there are many diversities of condition

and circumstances, and various modes of culture.

The primary elements which enter into the consideration of the

agriculture of a country are four,--climate, soil, price of land, and

price of labor. In any comparison, therefore, of the agriculture of

England with that of Massachusetts, these elements are to be taken

particularly into view.

The climate of England differs essentially from that of this country.

England is on the western side of the eastern, and we on the eastern

side of the western continent. The climate of all countries is

materially affected by their respective situations in relation to the

ocean. The winds which prevail most, both in this country and in

England, are from the west. It is known that the wind blows, in our

latitude, from some point west to some point east, on an average of

years, nearly or quite three days out of four. These facts are familiar.

The consequences resulting from them are, that our winters are colder

and our summers much hotter than in England. Our latitude is about that

of Oporto, yet the temperature is very different. On these accounts,

therefore, the maturing of the crops in England, and the power of using

these crops, creates a material difference between its agriculture and

ours. It may be supposed that our climate must resemble that of China in

the same latitudes; and this fact may have an essential bearing upon

that branch of agriculture which it is proposed to introduce among us,

the production of silk.

The second point of difference between the two countries lies in the

soil. The soil of England is mainly argillaceous, a soft and unctuous

loam upon a substratum of clay. This may be considered as the

predominant characteristic in the parts which I visited. The soil in

some of the southern counties of England is thinner; some of it is what

we should call stony; much of it is a free, gravelly soil, with some

small part which, with us, would be called sandy. Through a great extent

of country, this soil rests on a deep bed of chalk. Ours is a granite

soil. There is granite in Great Britain; but this species of soil

prevails in Scotland, a part of the country which more resembles our

own. We may have some lands as good as any in England. Our alluvial

soils on Connecticut River, and in some other parts of the country, are

equal to any lands; but these have not, ordinarily, a wide extent of

clay subsoil. The soil of Massachusetts is harder, more granitic, less

abounding in clay, and altogether more stony, than the soil of England.

The surface of Massachusetts is more uneven, more broken with mountain

ridges, more diversified with hill and dale, and more abundant in

streams of water, than that of England.

The price of land in that county, another important element in

agricultural calculations, differs greatly from the price of land with

us. It is three times as high as in Massachusetts, at least.

On the other hand, the price of agricultural labor is much higher in

Massachusetts than in England. The price of labor varies considerably in

different parts of England; but it may be set down as twice as dear with

us here.

These are the general remarks which have suggested themselves to me in

regard to the state of things abroad. Now, have we any thing to learn

from them? Is there any thing in the condition of England applicable to

us, or in regard to which the agriculture of England may be of use to

Massachusetts and other countries?

The subject of agriculture, in England, has strongly attracted the

attention and inquiries of men of science. They have studied

particularly the nature of the soil. More than twenty years ago, Sir

Humphrey Davy undertook to treat the subject of the application of

chemical knowledge to agriculture in the analysis of soils and manures.

The same attention has been continued to the subject; and the

extraordinary discoveries and advances in chemical science, since his

time, are likely to operate greatly to the advantage of agriculture. The

best results may be expected from them. These inquiries are now

prosecuted in France with great enthusiasm and success. We may hope for

like beneficial results here from the application of science to the same

objects.

But although the circumstances of climate and situation, and nature of

the soil, form permanent distinctions which cannot be changed, yet there

are other differences, resulting from different modes of culture, and

different forms of applying labor; and it is to these differences that

our attention should be particularly directed. Here, there is much to

learn. English cultivation is more scientific, more systematic, and more

exact, a great deal, than ours. This is partly the result of necessity.

A vast population is to be supported on comparatively a small surface.

Lands are dear, rents are high, and hands, as well as mouths, are

numerous. Careful and skillful cultivation is the natural result of this

state of things. An English farmer looks not merely to the present

year's crop. He considers what will be the condition of the land when

that crop is off; and what it will be fit for the next year. He studies

to use his land so as not to abuse it. On the contrary, his aim is to

get crop after crop, while still the land shall be growing better and

better. If he should content himself with raising from the soil a large

crop this year, and then leave it neglected and exhausted, he would

starve. It is upon this fundamental idea of constant production without

exhaustion, that the system of English cultivation, and, indeed, of all

good cultivation, is founded. England is not original in this. Flanders,

and perhaps Italy, have been her teachers. This system is carried out in

practice by a well-considered rotation of crops. The form or manner of

this rotation, in a given case, is determined very much by the value of

the soil, and partly by the local demand for particular products. But

some rotation, some succession, some variation in the annual productions

of the same land, is essential. No tenant could obtain a lease, or, if

he should, could pay his rent and maintain his family, who should wholly

disregard this. White crops (wheat, barley, rye, oats, &c.) are not to

follow one another. Our maize, or Indian corn, must be considered a

white crop; although, from the quantity of stalk and leaf which it

produces, and which are such excellent food for cattle, it is less

exhausting than some other white crops; or, to speak more properly, it

makes greater returns to the land. The cultivation of maize has not,

however, been carried to any extent in England. Green crops are turnips,

potatoes, beets, vetches, or tares (which are usually eaten while

growing, by cattle and sheep, or cut for green food), and clover. Buck

or beech wheat, and winter oats,--thought to be a very useful

product,--are regarded also as green crops, when eaten on the land; and

so, indeed, may any crop be considered, which is used in this way. But

the turnip is the great green crop of England. Its cultivation has

wrought such changes, in fifty years, that it may be said to have

revolutionized English agriculture.

Before that time, when lands became exhausted by the repetition of

grain crops, they were left, as it was termed, fallow; that is, were

not cultivated at all, but left to recruit themselves as they might.

This occurred as often as every fourth year, so that one quarter of

the arable land was always out of cultivation, and yielded nothing.

Turnips are now substituted in the place of these naked fallows; and

now land in turnips is considered as fallow. What is the philosophy of

this? The raising of crops, even of any, the most favorable crop, does

not, in itself, enrich, but in some degree exhausts, the land. The

exhaustion of the land, however, as experience and observation have

fully demonstrated, takes place mainly when the seeds of a plant are

allowed to perfect themselves. The turnip is a biennial plant. It

does not perfect its seed before it is consumed.

There is another circumstance in respect to the turnip plant which

deserves consideration. Plants, it is well understood, derive a large

portion of their nutriment from the air. The leaves of plants are their

lungs. The leaves of turnips expose a wide surface to the atmosphere,

and derive, therefore, much of their subsistence and nutriment from

these sources. The broad leaves of the turnips likewise shade the

ground, preserve its moisture, and prevent, in some measure, its

exhaustion by the sun and air.

The turnips have a further and ultimate use. Meat and clothing come from

animals. The more animals are sustained upon a farm, the more meat and

the more clothing. These things bear, of course, a proportion to the

number of bullocks, sheep, swine, and poultry which are maintained. The

great inquiry, then, is, What kind of crops will least exhaust the land

in their cultivation, and furnish, at the same time, support to the

largest number of animals?

A very large amount of land, in England, is cultivated in turnips.

Fields of turnips of three, four, and even five hundred acres, are

sometimes seen, though the common fields are much less; and it may be

observed here, that, in the richest and best cultivated parts of

England, enclosures of ten, fifteen, twenty, or thirty acres seemed more

common. Since the introduction of the turnip culture, bullocks and sheep

have trebled in number. Turnips, for the reasons given, are not great

exhausters of the soil; and they furnish abundant food for animals. Let

us suppose that one bushel of oats or barley may be raised at the same

cost as ten bushels of turnips, and will go as far in support of stock.

The great difference in the two crops is to be found in the farmer's

barn-yard. Here is the test of their comparative value. This is the

secret of the great advantages which follow from their cultivation. The

value of manure in agriculture is well appreciated. M'Queen states the

extraordinary fact, that the value of the animal manure annually applied

to the crops in England, at current prices, surpasses in value the whole

amount of its foreign commerce. There is no doubt that it greatly

exceeds it. The turnip crop returns a vast amount of nutritive matter to

the soil. The farmer, then, from his green crops, and by a regular

system of rotation, finds green fodder for his cattle and wheat for the

market.

Among the lighter English soils is that of the county of Norfolk, a

county, however, which I had not the pleasure of visiting. Its soil, I

understand, is light, a little inclined to sand, or light loam. Such

soils are not unfavorable to roots. Here is the place of the remarkable

cultivation and distinguished improvements of that eminent cultivator,

Mr. Coke, now Earl of Leicester. In these lands, as I was told, a common

rotation is turnips, barley, clover, wheat. These lands resemble much of

the land in our county of Plymouth, and the sandy lands to be found in

the vicinity of the Connecticut and Merrimack Rivers. The cultivation of

green crops in New England deserves attention. There is no incapacity in

our soil, and there are no circumstances unfavorable to their

production. What would be the best kind of succulent vegetables to be

cultivated, whether turnips or carrots, I am not prepared to say. But

no attempts, within my knowledge, have been made among us of a

systematic agriculture; and until we enter upon some regular rotation of

crops, and our husbandry becomes more systematic, no distinguished

success can be looked for. As to our soil, as has been remarked, there

is no inherent incapacity for the production of any of the common crops.

We can raise wheat in Massachusetts. The average crop in England is

twenty-six bushels to the acre. From my own farm, where the soil is

comparatively thin and poor, I have obtained this summer seventy-six

bushels of wheat upon three acres of land. It is not, therefore, any

want of capability in the soil; but the improvement and success of our

husbandry must depend upon a succession of crops adapted to the

circumstances of our soil, climate, and peculiar condition.

In England, a large portion of the turnip crop is consumed on the land

where it grows. The sheep are fed out of doors all winter; and I saw

many large flocks, in the aggregate thousands and even millions of

sheep, which were never housed. This was matter of surprise, especially

considering the wetness of the climate; and these sheep are often

exposed in fields where a dry spot cannot be found for them to lie down

upon. Sheep are often folded in England by wattled fences, or hurdles

temporarily erected in different parts of the field, and removed from

place to place, as the portions of the crop thus fenced off are

consumed. In some cases they are folded, and the turnips dug and carried

to them. In such cases, they are always fed upon lands which are

intended the next year to be, as far as practicable, brought under

cultivation. I have seen many laborers in fields, employed in drawing

the turnips, splitting them, and scattering them over the land, for the

use of the sheep, which is considered better, often, than to leave the

sheep to dig for themselves. These laborers are so employed all winter,

and if the ground should become frozen, the turnips are taken up with a

bar. Together with the turnips, it is thought important that sheep

should have a small quantity of other food. Chopped hay, sometimes a

little oil-cake, or oats, is usually given. This is called _trough_

food, as it is eaten in troughs, standing about in the field. In so

moist a climate as that of England, some land is so wet that, in the

farmer's phrase, it will not _carry sheep_; that is, it is quite too

wet for sheep to lie out upon it. In such cases, the turnips must be

_carried_, that is, removed from the field, and fed out elsewhere. The

last season was uncommonly wet, and for that reason, perhaps, I could

not so well judge; but it appeared to me that it would be an improvement

in English husbandry, to furnish for sheep, oftener than is done, not

only a tolerably dry ground to lie on, but some sort of shelter against

the cold rains of winter. The turnips, doubtless, are more completely

consumed, when dug, split, and fed out. The Swedish turnip, I have

little doubt, is best suited to cold climates. It is scarcely injured by

being frozen in the ground in the winter, as it will thaw again, and be

still good, in spring. In Scotland, in the Lothians, where cultivation

is equal to that in any part of England, it is more the practice than

farther south to house turnips, or draw them, and cover them from frost.

I have been greatly pleased with Scotch farming, and as the climate and

soil of Scotland more resemble the soil and climate of Massachusetts

than those of England do, I hope the farmers of Massachusetts will

acquaint themselves, as well as they can, with Scotch husbandry. I had

the pleasure of passing some time in Scotland, with persons engaged in

these pursuits, and acknowledge myself much instructed by what I learned

from them, and saw in their company. The great extent of the use of

turnips and other green crops in Scotland is evidence that such crops

cannot be altogether unsuited to Massachusetts.

Among the subjects which of late years have engaged much of the

attention of agriculturists in England, few are more important than that

of tile draining. This most efficient and successful mode of draining

is getting into very extensive use. Much of the soil of England, as

I have already stated, rests on a clayey and retentive subsoil.

Excessive wetness is prejudicial and destructive to the crops.

Marginal drains, or drains on the outside of the fields, do not

produce the desired results. These tile-drains have effected most

important improvements. The tile itself is made of clay, baked like

bricks; it is about one foot in length, four inches in width, three

fourths of an inch in thickness, and it stands from six to eight

inches in height, being hemispherical, or like the half of a cylinder,

with its sides elongated. It somewhat resembles the Dutch tiles which

are seen on the roofs of the old houses in Albany and New York. A

ditch is sunk, eighteen or twenty inches in depth, and these drains

are multiplied over a field, sometimes at a distance of only seven

yards apart. The ditch or drain being dug, these tiles are laid down,

with the hollow side at bottom, on the smooth clay, or any other firm

subsoil, the sides placed near to each other, some little straw thrown

over the joints to prevent the admission of dirt, and the whole covered

up. This is not so expensive a mode of draining as might be supposed.

The ditch or drain need only be narrow, and tiles are of much cheaper

transportation than stone would be. But the result is so important as

well to justify the expense. It is estimated that this thorough

draining adds often twenty per cent. to the production of the wheat

crop. A beautiful example came under my observation in Nottinghamshire,

not long before I left England. A gentleman was showing me his grounds

for next year's crop of wheat. On one side of the lane, where the land

had been drained, the wheat was already up and growing luxuriantly; on

the other, where the land was subject to no other disadvantage than

that it had not been drained, it was still too wet to be sowed at

all. It may be thought singular enough, but it is doubtless true, that,

on stiff, clayey lands, thorough draining is as useful in dry, hot

summers as in cold and wet summers; for such land, if a wet winter

or spring be suddenly followed by hot and dry weather, is apt to become

hard and baked, so that the roots of plants cannot enter it. Thorough

draining, by giving an opportunity to the water on the surface to be

constantly escaping, corrects this evil. Draining can never be

needed to so great an extent in Massachusetts as in England and

Scotland, from the different nature of the soil; but we have yet

quantities of low meadow lands, producing wild, harsh, sour grasses,

or producing nothing, which, there is little doubt, might be rendered

most profitable hay-fields, by being well drained. When we understand

better the importance of concentrating labor, instead of scattering

it,--when we shall come to estimate duly the superior profit of "a

little farm, well tilled," over a great farm, half cultivated and half

manured, overrun with weeds, and scourged with exhausting crops,--we

shall then fill our barns, and double the winter fodder for our cattle

and sheep by the products of these waste meadows.

There is in England another mode of improvement, most important,

instances of which I have seen, and one of which I regard as the most

beautiful agricultural improvement which has ever come under my

observation. I mean irrigation, or the making of what are called _water

meadows_. I first saw them in Wiltshire, and was much struck with them,

not having before understood, from reading or conversation, exactly what

they were. But I afterwards had an opportunity of examining a most

signal and successful example of this mode of improvement, on the

estates of the Duke of Portland, in the North of England, on the borders

of Sherwood forest. Indeed, it was part of the old forest known by that

name. Sherwood forest, at least in its present state, is not like the

pine forests of Maine, the heavy, hard wood forests of the unredeemed

lands of New Hampshire and Vermont, or the still heavier timbered lands

of the West. It embraces a large extent of country, with various soils,

some of them thin and light, with beautiful and venerable oaks, of

unknown age, much open ground between them and underneath their

wide-spread branches, and this covered with heather, lichens, and fern.

Sherwood forest, indeed, is not less interesting for the natural beauty

which charms the eye, than for its venerable antiquity and historical

associations. But in many parts the soil is far enough from being rich.

Upon the borders of this forest are the water meadows of which I am

speaking. A little river runs through the forest in this part, at the

bottom of a valley with sides moderately sloping, and of considerable

extent, between the river at the bottom and the common level of the

surrounding country above. This little river, before reaching the place,

runs through a small town, and gathers, doubtless, some refuse matter in

its course. From this river, the water is taken at the upper end of the

valley, conducted along the edge, or bank, in a canal or carrier, and

from this carrier, at proper times, suffered to flow out very gently,

spreading over and irrigating the whole surface, trickling and shining,

when I saw it, (and it was then November,) among the light-green of the

new-springing grass, and collected below in another canal, from which it

is again let out, to flow in like manner over land lying still farther

down towards the bottom of the valley. Ten years ago, this land, for

production, was worth little or nothing. I was told that some of it had

been let, for no more than a shilling an acre. It has not been manured,

and yet is now most extensively productive. It is not flooded; the water

does not stand upon it; it flows gently over, and is applied several

times in a year to each part, say in March, May, July, and October. In

November, when I saw it, the farmers were taking off the third crop of

hay cut this season, and that crop was certainly not less than two tons

to the acre. This last crop is mostly used as green food for cattle.

When I speak of the number of tons, I mean tons of dried hay. After this

crop was off, sheep were to be put on it, to have lambs at Christmas, so

as to come into market in March, a time of year when they command a high

price. Upon taking off the sheep in March, the land would be watered.

The process of watering lasts two or three days, or perhaps eight or ten

days, according to circumstances, and is repeated after the taking off

of each successive crop. Although this water has no doubt considerable

sediment in it, yet the general fact shows how important water itself is

to the growth of plants, and how far, even, it may supply the place of

other sources of sustenance. Now we in Massachusetts have a more uneven

surface, more valleys with sloping sides, by many times more streams,

and such a climate that our farms suffer much oftener from drought than

farms in England. May we not learn something useful, therefore, from

such examples of irrigation in that country?

With respect to implements of husbandry, I am of opinion that the

English, upon the whole, have no advantage over us. Their wagons and

carts are no better; their ploughs, I thought, not better anywhere, and

in some counties far inferior, because unnecessarily heavy. The subsoil

plough, for which we have little use, is esteemed a useful invention,

and the mole plough, which I have seen in operation, and the use of

which is to make an underground drain, without disturbing the surface,

is an ingenious contrivance, likely to be useful in clay soils, free

from stone and gravel, but which can be little used in Massachusetts. In

general, the English utensils of husbandry seemed to me unnecessarily

cumbrous and heavy. The ploughs, especially, require a great strength of

draught. But as drill husbandry is extensively practised in England, and

very little with us, the various implements, or machines, for

drill-sowing in that country quite surpass all we have. I do not

remember to have seen the horse-rake used in England, although I saw in

operation implements for spreading hay from the swath to dry, or rather,

perhaps, for turning it, drawn by horses.

There are other matters connected with English agriculture, upon which I

might say a word or two. Crops are cultivated in England, of which we

know little. The common English field bean, a small brown bean, growing

not on a clinging vine, like some varieties of the taller bean, runs in

what is called with us the bush form, like our common white bean, upon a

slight, upright stalk, two or two and a half feet high, and producing

from twenty to forty bushels to the acre. It is valuable as food for

animals, especially for horses. This bean does not grow well in thin

soils, or what is called a hot bottom. A strong, stiff, clayey land,

well manured, suits it best. Vetches, or tares, a sort of pea, are very

much cultivated in England, although almost unknown here, and are there

either eaten green, by sheep, on the land, or cut and carried for green

food.

The raising of sheep in England is an immense interest. England probably

clips fifty millions of fleeces this year, lambs under a year old not

being shorn. The average yield may be six or seven pounds to a fleece.

There are two principal classes of sheep in England, the long-wooled and

the short-wooled. Among these are many varieties, but this is the

general division or classification. The Leicester and the South Down

belong, respectively, to these several families. The common clip of the

former may be estimated from seven to eight pounds; and of the last,

from three to three and a half, or four. I mention these particulars

only as estimates; and much more accurate information may doubtless be

obtained from many writers. In New England, we are just beginning to

estimate rightly the importance of raising sheep. England has seen it

much earlier, and is pursuing it with far more zeal and perseverance.

Our climate, as already observed, differs from that of England; but the

great inquiry, applicable in equal force to both countries, is, How can

we manage our land in order to produce the largest crops, while, at the

same time, we keep up the condition of the land, and place it, if

possible, in a course of gradual improvement? The success of farming

must depend, in a considerable degree, upon the animals produced and

supported on the farm. The farmer may calculate, in respect to animals,

upon two grounds of profit, the natural growth of the animal, and the

weight obtained by fattening. The skilful farmer, therefore, expects,

where he gains one pound in the fattening of his animal, to gain an

equal amount in the growth. The early maturity of stock is consequently

a point of much importance.

Oxen are rarely reared in England for the yoke. In Devonshire and

Cornwall, ox teams are employed; but in travelling one thousand miles in

England, I saw only one ox team, and in that case they were driven one

before the other, and in harnesses similar to those of horses. Bullocks

are raised for the market. It is highly desirable, therefore, both in

respect to neat cattle and sheep, that their growth should be rapid, and

their fattening properties favorable, that they may be early disposed

of, and the expense of production proportionably lessened.

Is it practicable, on the soil and in the climate of Massachusetts, to

pursue a succession of crops? I cannot question it; and I have entire

confidence in the improvements to our husbandry, and the other great

advantages, which would accrue from judicious rotation of products. The

capacities of the soil of Massachusetts are undoubted. One hundred

bushels of corn to an acre have been repeatedly produced, and other

crops in like abundance. But this will not effect the proper ends of a

judicious and profitable agriculture, unless we can so manage our

husbandry that, by a judicious and proper succession of the crops, land

will not only be restored after an exhausting crop, but gradually

enriched by cultivation. It is of the highest importance that our

farmers should increase their power of sustaining live stock, that they

may obtain in that way the means of improving their farms.

The breed of cattle in England is greatly improved, and still improving.

I have seen some of the best stocks, and many individual animals from

others, and think them admirable. The short-horned cattle brought to

this country are often very good specimens. I have seen the flocks from

which some of them have been selected, and they are certainly among the

best in England. But in every selection of stock, we are to regard our

own climate, and our own circumstances. We raise oxen for work, as well

as for beef; and I am of opinion that the Devonshire stock furnishes

excellent animals for our use We have suffered that old stock, brought

hither by our ancestors, to run down, and be deteriorated. It has been

kept up and greatly improved in England, and we may now usefully import

from it. The Devonshire ox is a hardy animal, of size and make suited to

the plough, and though certainly not the largest for beef, yet generally

very well fattened. I think quite well, also, of the Ayrshire cows. They

are good milkers, and, being a hardy race, are on that account well

suited to a cold climate and to the coarse and sometimes scanty

pasturage of New England. After all, I think there can be no doubt that

the improved breed of short horns are the finest cattle in the world,

and should be preferred wherever plenty of good fodder and some mildness

of climate invite them. They are well fitted to the Western States,

where there is an overflowing abundance, both of winter and summer

fodder, and where, as in England, bullocks are raised for beef only. I

have no doubt, also, that they might be advantageously raised in the

rich valleys of the Connecticut, and perhaps in some other favored parts

of the State. But for myself, as a farmer on the thin lands of Plymouth

County, and on the bleak shores of the sea, I do not feel that I could

give to animals of this breed that entertainment which their merit

deserves.

As to sheep, the Leicesters are like the short-horned cattle. They must

be kept well; they should always be fat; and, pressed by good keeping to

early maturity, they are found very profitable. "Feed well," was the

maxim of the great Roman farmer, Cato; and that short sentence comprises

much of all that belongs to the profitable economy of live stock. The

South Downs are a good breed, both for wool and mutton. They crop the

grass that grows on the thin soils, over beds of chalk, in Wiltshire,

Hampshire, and Dorsetshire. They ought not to scorn the pastures of New

England.

When we turn our thoughts to the condition of England, we must perceive

of what immense importance is every, even the smallest, degree of

improvement in its agricultural productions. Suppose that, by some new

discovery, or some improved mode of culture, only one per cent. could be

added to the annual results of English cultivation; this, of itself,

would materially affect the comfortable subsistence of millions of human

beings. It is often said that England is a garden. This is a strong

metaphor. There is poor land and some poor cultivation in England. All

people are not equally industrious, careful, and skillful. But, on the

whole, England is a prodigy of agricultural wealth. Flanders may

possibly surpass it. I have not seen Flanders; but England quite

surpasses, in this respect, whatever I have seen. In associations for

the improvement of agriculture we have been earlier than England. But

such associations now exist there. I had the pleasure of attending the

first meeting of the Royal Agricultural Society of England, and I found

it a very pleasant and interesting occasion. Persons of the highest

distinction for rank, talents, and wealth were present, all zealously

engaged in efforts for the promotion of the agricultural interest. No

man in England is so high as to be independent of the success of this

great interest; no man so low as not to be affected by its prosperity or

its decline. The same is true, eminently and emphatically true, with us.

Agriculture feeds us; to a great degree it clothes us; without it we

could not have manufactures, and we should not have commerce. These all

stand together, but they stand together like pillars in a cluster, the

largest in the centre, and that largest is agriculture. Let us remember,

too, that we live in a country of small farms and freehold tenements; a

country in which men cultivate with their own hands their own fee-simple

acres, drawing not only their subsistence, but also their spirit of

independence and manly freedom, from the ground they plough. They are at

once its owners, its cultivators, and its defenders. And, whatever else

may be undervalued or overlooked, let us never forget that the

cultivation of the earth is the most important labor of man. Man may be

civilized, in some degree, without great progress in manufactures and

with little commerce with his distant neighbors. But without the

cultivation of the earth, he is, in all countries, a savage. Until he

gives up the chase, and fixes himself in some place and seeks a living

from the earth, he is a roaming barbarian. When tillage begins, other

arts follow. The farmers, therefore, are the founders of human

civilization.

FOOTNOTES

[118] Remarks on the Agriculture of England, made at a Meeting of the

Legislature of Massachusetts, and others interested in

Agriculture, held at the State-House in Boston, on the Evening

of the 13th of January, 1840.

END OF VOLUME FIRST.

Transcriber Notes

Passages in italics indicated by _underscores_.

Typographical inconsistencies have been changed.

The following significant changes were made to the original text:

Page 3: No footnote for marker (INTRODUCTORY NOTE.*)

Footnote 99: Footnote marker missing

Footnote 100: Footnote marker missing

The Works of Daniel Webster, Volume 1 · 第 17 / 17 章