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