FROM A SPEECH DELIVERED AT THE NATIONAL REPUBLICAN CONVENTION HELD AT
WORCESTER (MASS.), ON THE 12th OF OCTOBER, 1832.
I begin, Sir, with the subject of removals from office for opinion's
sake, one of the most signal instances, as I think, of the attempt to
extend executive power. This has been a leading measure, a cardinal
point, in the course of the administration. It has proceeded, from the
first, on a settled proscription for political opinions; and this system
it has carried into operation to the full extent of its ability. The
President has not only filled all vacancies with his own friends,
generally those most distinguished as personal partisans, but he has
turned out political opponents, and thus created vacancies, in order
that he might fill them with his own friends. I think the number of
removals and appointments is said to be _two thousand_. While the
administration and its friends have been attempting to circumscribe and
to decry the powers belonging to other branches, it has thus seized into
its own hands a patronage most pernicious and corrupting, an authority
over men's means of living most tyrannical and odious, and a power to
punish free men for political opinions altogether intolerable.
You will remember, Sir, that the Constitution says not one word about
the President's power of removal from office. It is a power raised
entirely by construction. It is a constructive power, introduced at
first to meet cases of extreme public necessity. It has now become
coextensive with the executive will, calling for no necessity, requiring
no exigency for its exercise; to be employed at all times, without
control, without question, without responsibility. When the question of
the President's power of removal was debated in the first Congress,
those who argued for it limited it to _extreme cases_. Cases, they said,
might arise, in which it would be _absolutely necessary_ to remove an
officer before the Senate could be assembled. An officer might become
insane; he might abscond; and from these and other supposable cases, it
was said, the public service might materially suffer if the President
could not remove the incumbent. And it was further said, that there was
little or no danger of the abuse of the power for party or personal
objects. No President, it was thought, would ever commit such an outrage
on public opinion. Mr. Madison, who thought the power ought to exist,
and to be exercised in cases of high necessity, declared, nevertheless,
that if a President should resort to the power when not required by any
public exigency, and merely for personal objects, _he would deserve to
be impeached_. By a very small majority,--I think, in the Senate, by the
casting vote of the Vice-President,--Congress decided in favor of the
existence of the power of removal, upon the grounds which I have
mentioned; granting the power in a case of clear and absolute necessity,
and denying its existence everywhere else.
Mr. President, we should recollect that this question was discussed,
and thus decided, when Washington was in the executive chair. Men knew
that in his hands the power would not be abused; nor did they conceive
it possible that any of his successors could so far depart from his
great and bright example, as, by abuse of the power, and by carrying
that abuse to its utmost extent, to change the essential character of
the executive from that of an impartial guardian and executor of the
laws into that of the chief dispenser of party rewards. Three or four
instances of removal occurred in the first twelve years of the
government. At the commencement of Mr. Jefferson's administration, he
made several others, not without producing much dissatisfaction; so much
so, that he thought it expedient to give reasons to the people, in a
public paper, for even the limited extent to which he had exercised the
power. He rested his justification on particular circumstances and
peculiar grounds; which, whether substantial or not, showed, at least,
that he did not regard the power of removal as an ordinary power, still
less as a mere arbitrary one, to be used as he pleased, for whatever
ends he pleased, and without responsibility. As far as I remember, Sir,
after the early part of Mr. Jefferson's administration, hardly an
instance occurred for near thirty years. If there were any instances,
they were few. But at the commencement of the present administration,
the precedent of these previous cases was seized on, and a _system_, a
regular _plan of government_, a well-considered scheme for the
maintenance of party power by the patronage of office, and this
patronage to be created by general removal, was adopted, and has been
carried into full operation. Indeed, before General Jackson's
inauguration, the party put the system into practice. In the last
session of Mr. Adams's administration, the friends of General Jackson
constituted a majority in the Senate; and nominations, made by Mr. Adams
to fill vacancies which had occurred in the ordinary way, were
postponed, by this majority, beyond the 3d of March, _for the purpose,
openly avowed, of giving the nominations to General Jackson_. A
nomination for a judge of the Supreme Court, and many others of less
magnitude, were thus disposed of.
And what did we witness, Sir, when the administration actually
commenced, in the full exercise of its authority? One universal sweep,
one undistinguishing blow, levelled against all who were not of the
successful party. No worth, public or private, no service, civil or
military, was of power to resist the relentless greediness of
proscription. Soldiers of the late war, soldiers of the Revolutionary
war, the very contemporaries of the independence of the country, all
lost their situations. No office was too high, and none too low; for
_office_ was the spoil, and "_all the spoils_," it is said, "belong to
the _victors_"! If a man holding an office necessary for his daily
support had presented himself covered with the scars of wounds received
in every battle, from Bunker Hill to Yorktown, these would not have
protected him against this reckless rapacity. Nay, Sir, if Warren
himself had been among the living, and had possessed any office under
government, high or low, he would not have been suffered to hold it a
single hour, unless he could show that he had strictly complied with the
party statutes, and had put a well-marked party collar round his own
neck. Look, Sir, to the case of the late venerable Major Melville. He
was a personification of the spirit of 1776, one of the earliest to
venture in the cause of liberty. He was of the Tea Party; one of the
very first to expose himself to British power. And his whole life was
consonant with this, its beginning. Always ardent in the cause of
liberty, always a zealous friend to his country, always acting with the
party which he supposed cherished the genuine republican spirit most
fervently, always estimable and respectable in private life, he seemed
armed against this miserable petty tyranny of party as far as man could
be. But he felt its blow, and he fell. He held an office in the
custom-house, and had held it for a long course of years; and he was
deprived of it, as if unworthy to serve the country which he loved, and
for whose liberties, in the vigor of his early manhood, he had thrust
himself into the very jaws of its enemies. There was no mistake in the
matter. His character, his standing, his Revolutionary services, were
all well known; but they were known to no purpose; they weighed not one
feather against party pretensions. It cost no pains to remove him; it
cost no compunction to wring his aged heart with this retribution from
his country for his services, his zeal, and his fidelity. Sir, you will
bear witness,[1] that, when his successor was nominated to the Senate,
and the Senate were informed who had been removed to make way for that
nomination, its members were struck with horror. They had not conceived
the administration to be capable of such a thing; and yet they said,
What can _we_ do? The man is removed; _we_ cannot recall him; we can
only act upon the nomination before us. Sir, you and I thought
otherwise; and I rejoice that we did think otherwise. We thought it our
duty to resist the nomination to fill a vacancy thus created. We thought
it our duty to oppose this proscription, when, and where, and as, we
constitutionally could. We besought the Senate to go with us, and to
take a stand before the country on this great question. We invoked them
to try the deliberate sense of the people; to trust themselves before
the tribunal of public opinion; to resist at first, to resist at last,
to resist always, the introduction of this unsocial, this mischievous,
this dangerous, this belligerent principle into the practice of the
government.
Mr. President, as far as I know, there is no civilized country on earth,
in which, on a change of rulers, there is such an _inquisition for
spoil_ as we have witnessed in this free republic. The Inaugural Address
of 1829 spoke of a _searching operation_ of government. The most
searching operation, Sir, of the present administration, has been its
search for office and place. When, Sir, did any English minister, Whig
or Tory, ever make such an inquest? When did he ever go down to
low-water mark, to make an ousting of tide-waiters? When did he ever
take away the daily bread of weighers, and gaugers, and measurers? When
did he ever go into the villages, to disturb the little post-offices,
the mail contracts, and every thing else in the remotest degree
connected with government? Sir, a British minister who should do this,
and should afterwards show his head in a British House of Commons, would
be received by a universal hiss.
I have little to say of the selections made to fill vacancies thus
created. It is true, however, and it is a natural consequence of the
system which has been acted on, that, within the last three years, more
nominations have been rejected on the ground of _unfitness_, than in all
the preceding forty years of the government. And these nominations, you
know, Sir, could not have been rejected but by votes of the President's
own friends. The cases were too strong to be resisted. Even party
attachment could not stand them In some not a third of the Senate, in
others not ten votes, and in others not a single vote, could be
obtained; and this for no particular reason known only to the Senate,
but on general grounds of the want of character and qualifications; on
grounds known to everybody else, as well as to the Senate. All this,
Sir, is perfectly natural and consistent. The same party selfishness
which drives good men out of office will push bad men in. Political
proscription leads necessarily to the filling of offices with
incompetent persons, and to a consequent malexecution of official
duties. And in my opinion, Sir, this principle of claiming a monopoly of
office by the right of conquest, unless the public shall effectually
rebuke and restrain it, will entirely change the character of our
government. It elevates party above country; it forgets the common weal
in the pursuit of personal emolument; it tends to form, it does form,
we see that it has formed, a political combination, united by no common
principles or opinions among its members, either upon the powers of the
government, or the true policy of the country; but held together simply
as an association, under the charm of a popular head, seeking to
maintain possession of the government by a _vigorous exercise of its
patronage_; and for this purpose agitating, and alarming, and
distressing social life by the exercise of a tyrannical party
proscription. Sir, if this course of things cannot be checked, good men
will grow tired of the exercise of political privileges. They will have
nothing to do with popular elections. They will see that such elections
are but a mere selfish contest for office; and they will abandon the
government to the scramble of the bold, the daring, and the desperate.
It seems, Mr. President, to be a peculiar and singular characteristic of
the present administration, that it came into power on a cry against
abuses, _which did not exist_, and then, as soon as it was in, as if in
mockery of the perception and intelligence of the people, _it created
those very abuses_, and carried them to a great length. Thus the chief
magistrate himself, before he came into the chair, in a formal public
paper, denounced the practice of appointing members of Congress to
office. He said, that, if that practice continued, _corruption would
become the order of the day_; and, as if to fasten and nail down his own
consistency to that point, he declared that it was _due to himself to
practise what he recommended to others_. Yet, Sir, as soon as he was in
power, these fastenings gave way, the nails all flew, and the promised
_consistency_ remains a striking proof of the manner in which political
assurances are sometimes fulfilled. He has already appointed more
members of Congress to office than any of his predecessors, in the
longest period of administration. Before his time, there was no reason
to complain of these appointments. They had not been numerous under any
administration. Under this, they have been numerous, and some of them
such as may well justify complaint.
Another striking instance of the exhibition of the same characteristics
may be found in the sentiments of the Inaugural Address, and in the
subsequent practice, on the subject of _interfering with the freedom of
elections_. The Inaugural Address declares, that it is necessary to
reform abuses which have _brought the patronage of the government into
conflict with the freedom of elections_. And what has been the
subsequent practice? Look to the newspapers; look to the published
letters of officers of the government, advising, exhorting, soliciting,
friends and partisans to greater exertions in the cause of the party;
see all done, everywhere, which patronage and power can do, to affect,
not only elections in the general government, but also in every State
government, and then say how well _this_ promise of reforming abuses has
been kept. At what former period, under what former administration, did
public officers of the United States thus interfere in elections?
Certainly, Sir, never. In this respect, then, as well as in others, that
which was not true as a charge against previous administrations would
have been true, if it had assumed the form of a prophecy respecting the
acts of the present.
But there is another attempt to grasp and to wield a power over public
opinion, of a still more daring character, and far more dangerous
effects.
In all popular governments, a FREE PRESS is the most important of all
agents and instruments. It not only expresses public opinion, but, to a
very great degree, it contributes to form that opinion. It is an engine
for good or for evil, as it may be directed; but an engine of which
nothing can resist the force. The conductors of the press, in popular
governments, occupy a place, in the social and political system, of the
very highest consequence. They wear the character of public instructors.
Their daily labors bear directly on the intelligence, the morals, the
taste, and the public spirit of the country. Not only are they
journalists, recording political occurrences, but they discuss
principles, they comment on measures, they canvass characters; they hold
a power over the reputation, the feelings, the happiness of individuals.
The public ear is always open to their addresses, the public sympathy
easily made responsive to their sentiments. It is indeed, Sir, a
distinction of high honor, that theirs is the only profession expressly
protected and guarded by constitutional enactments. Their employment
soars so high, in its general consequences it is so intimately connected
with the public happiness, that its security is provided for by the
fundamental law. While it acts in a manner worthy of this distinction,
the press is a fountain of light, and a source of gladdening warmth. It
instructs the public mind, and animates the spirit of patriotism. Its
loud voice suppresses every thing which would raise itself against the
public liberty; and its blasting rebuke causes incipient despotism to
perish in the bud.
But remember, Sir, that these are the attributes of a FREE press only.
And is a press that is purchased or pensioned more free than a press
that is fettered? Can the people look for truths to partial sources,
whether rendered partial through fear or through favor? Why shall not a
manacled press be trusted with the maintenance and defence of popular
rights? Because it is supposed to be under the influence of a power
which may prove greater than the love of truth. Such a press may screen
abuses in government, or be silent. It may fear to speak. And may it not
fear to speak, too, when its conductors, if they speak in any but one
way, may lose their means of livelihood? Is dependence on government for
bread no temptation to screen its abuses? Will the press always speak
the truth, when the truth, if spoken, may be the means of silencing it
for the future? Is the truth in no danger, is the watchman under no
temptation, when he can neither proclaim the approach of national evils,
nor seem to descry them, without the loss of his place?
Mr. President, an open attempt to secure the aid and friendship of the
public press, by bestowing the emoluments of office on its active
conductors, seems to me, of every thing we have witnessed, to be the
most reprehensible. It degrades both the government and the press. As
far as its natural effect extends, it turns the palladium of liberty
into an engine of party. It brings the agency, activity, energy, and
patronage of government all to bear, with united force, on the means of
general intelligence, and on the adoption or rejection of political
opinions. It so completely perverts the true object of government, it so
entirely revolutionizes our whole system, that the chief business of
those in power is directed rather to the propagation of opinions
favorable to themselves, than to the execution of the laws. This
propagation of opinions, through the press, becomes the main
administrative duty. Some fifty or sixty editors of leading journals
have been appointed to office by the present executive. A stand has been
made against this proceeding, in the Senate, with partial success; but,
by means of appointments which do not come before the Senate, or other
means, the number has been carried to the extent I have mentioned.
Certainly, Sir, the editors of the public journals are not to be
disfranchised. Certainly they are fair candidates, either for popular
elections, or a just participation in office. Certainly they reckon in
their number some of the first geniuses, the best scholars, and the most
honest and well-principled men in the country. But the complaint is
against the _system_, against the _practice_, against the undisguised
attempt to secure the favor of the press by means addressed to its
pecuniary interest, and these means, too, drawn from the public
treasury, being no other than the appointed compensations for the
performance of official duties. Sir, the press itself should resent
this. Its own character for purity and independence is at stake. It
should resist a connection rendering it obnoxious to so many
imputations. It should point to its honorable denomination in our
constitutions of government, and it should maintain the character, there
ascribed to it, of a FREE PRESS.
There can, Sir, be no objection to the appointment of an editor to
office, if he is the fittest man. There can be no objection to
considering the services which, in that or in any other capacity, he may
have rendered his country. He may have done much to maintain her rights
against foreign aggression, and her character against insult. He may
have honored, as well as defended her; and may, therefore, be justly
regarded and selected, in the choice of faithful public agents. But the
ground of complaint is, that the aiding, by the press, of the election
of an individual, is rewarded, by that same individual, with the gift of
moneyed offices. Men are turned out of office, and others put in, and
receive salaries from the public treasury, on the ground, either openly
avowed or falsely denied, that they have rendered service in the
election of the very individual who makes this removal and makes this
appointment. Every man, Sir, must see that this is a vital stab at the
purity of the press. It not only assails its independence, by addressing
sinister motives to it, but it furnishes from the public treasury the
means of exciting these motives. It extends the executive power over the
press in a most daring manner. It operates to give a direction to
opinion, not favorable to the government, in the aggregate; not
favorable to the Constitution and laws; not favorable to the
legislature; but favorable to the executive alone. The consequence often
is, just what might be looked for, that the portion of the press thus
made fast to the executive interest denounces Congress, denounces the
judiciary, complains of the laws, and quarrels with the Constitution.
This exercise of the right of appointment to this end is an
augmentation, and a vast one, of the executive power, singly and alone.
It uses that power strongly against all other branches of the
government, and it uses it strongly, too, for any struggle which it may
be called on to make with the public opinion of the country. Mr.
President, I will quit this topic. There is much in it, in my judgment,
affecting, not only the purity and independence of the press, but also
the character and honor, the peace and security, of the government. I
leave it, in all its bearings, to the consideration of the people.
[Footnote 1: Hon. Nathaniel Silsbee, President of the Convention, was
Mr. Webster's colleague in the Senate at the time referred to.]