Speech in the Senate, May 31, 1872.
Socrates. Then whom do you call the good?
Alcibiades. I mean by the good those who are able to rule in the
city.
Socrates. Not, surely, over horses?
Alcibiades. Certainly not.
Socrates. But over men?
Alcibiades. Yes.
Plato, Dialogues: First Alcibiades.
Tr. Jowett, Vol. IV. p. 545.
Amongst the foremost purposes ought to be the downfall of this
odious, insulting, degrading, aide-de-campish, incapable dictatorship.
At such a crisis, is this country to be left at the mercy of barrack
councils and mess-room politics?—Letter of Lord Durham to Henry
Brougham, August, 1830: Life and Times of Henry Lord Brougham,
Vol. III. p. 44.
It is a maxim in politics, which we readily admit as undisputed and
universal, that a power, however great, when granted by law to an
eminent magistrate, is not so dangerous to Liberty as an authority,
however inconsiderable, which he acquires from violence and usurpation.
Hume, Essays, Part II.: Essay X., Of Some Remarkable Customs.
The Sundry Civil Appropriation Bill coming up as unfinished business,
Mr. Sumner moved to postpone indefinitely its consideration,
and after remarking on the Report of the Committee on the Sale of
Arms to French Agents, he said:—
MR. PRESIDENT,—I have no hesitation in declaring
myself a member of the Republican
Party, and one of the straitest of the sect. I doubt if
any Senator can point to earlier or more constant service
in its behalf. I began at the beginning, and from
that early day have never failed to sustain its candidates
and to advance its principles. For these I have
labored always by speech and vote, in the Senate and
elsewhere,—at first with few only, but at last, as success
began to dawn, then with multitudes flocking forward.
In this cause I never asked who were my associates
or how many they would number. In the
consciousness of right I was willing to be alone. To
such a party, with which so much of my life is intertwined,
I have no common attachment. Not without
regret can I see it suffer; not without a pang can I see
it changed from its original character, for such a change
is death. Therefore do I ask, with no common feeling,
that the peril which menaces it may pass away. I stood
by its cradle; let me not follow its hearse.
Turning back to its birth, I recall a speech of my
own at a State Convention in Massachusetts, as early as
September 7, 1854, where I vindicated its principles
and announced its name in these words: “As Republicans
we go forth to encounter the Oligarchs of Slavery.”[45]
The report records the applause with which
this name was received by the excited multitude. Years
of conflict ensued, in which the good cause constantly
gained. At last, in the spring of 1860, Abraham Lincoln
was nominated by this party as its candidate for
the Presidency; and here pardon me, if I refer again to
myself. On my way home from the Senate I was detained
in New York by the invitation of party friends
to speak at the Cooper Institute on the issues of the
pending election. The speech was made July 11, and,
I believe, was the earliest of the campaign. As published
at the time, it was entitled “Origin, Necessity,
and Permanence of the Republican Party,” and to exhibit
these was its precise object. Both the necessity
and permanence of the party were asserted. A brief
passage, which I take from the report in the “New York
Herald,” will show the duty and destiny I ventured
then to hold up. After dwelling on the evils of Slavery
and the corruptions it had engendered, including the
purchase of votes at the polls, I proceeded as follows:—
“Therefore, just so long as the present false theories of Slavery
prevail, whether concerning its character morally, economically,
and socially, or concerning its prerogatives under the
Constitution, just so long as the Slave Oligarchy, which is the
sleepless and unhesitating agent of Slavery in all its pretensions,
continues to exist as a political power, the Republican
Party must endure. [Applause.] If bad men conspire for
Slavery, good men must combine for Freedom. [‘Good!
good!’] Nor can the Holy War be ended until the barbarism
now dominant in the Republic is overthrown, and the Pagan
power is driven from our Jerusalem. [Applause.] And when
this triumph is won, securing the immediate object of our organization,
the Republican Party will not die, but, purified
by its long contest with Slavery and filled with higher life, it
will be lifted to yet other efforts and with nobler aims for the
good of man. [Applause, with three cheers for Lincoln.]”[46]
Such, on the eve of the Presidential election, was my
description of the Republican Party and my aspiration
for its future. It was not to die, but, “purified by its long
contest with Slavery and filled with higher life,” we were
to behold it “lifted to yet other efforts and with nobler
aims for the good of man.” Here was nothing personal,
nothing mean or petty. The Republican Party was necessary
and permanent, and always on an ascending
plane. For such a party there was no death, but higher
life and nobler aims; and this was the party to which I
gave my vows. But, alas, how changed! Once country
was the object, and not a man; once principle was inscribed
on the victorious banners, and not a name only.
It is not difficult to indicate when this disastrous
change, exalting the will of one man above all else, became
not merely manifest, but painfully conspicuous.
Already it had begun to show itself in personal pretensions,
to which I shall refer soon, when, suddenly and
without any warning through the public press or any
expression from public opinion, the President elected by
the Republican Party precipitated upon the country an
ill-considered and ill-omened scheme for the annexion
of a portion of the island of San Domingo, in pursuance
of a treaty negotiated by a person of his own household
styling himself “Aide-de-Camp to the President of the
United States.” Had this effort, however injudicious
in object, been confined to ordinary and constitutional
proceedings, with proper regard for a coördinate branch
of the Government, it would have soon dropped out of
sight and been remembered only as a blunder. But it
was not so. Strangely and unaccountably, it was pressed
for months by every means and appliance of power,
whether at home or abroad, now reaching into the Senate
Chamber, and now into the waters about the island.
Reluctant Senators were subdued to its support, while,
treading under foot the Constitution in one of its most
distinctive republican principles, the President seized
the war powers of the nation, instituted foreign intervention,
and capped the climax of usurpation by menace
of violence to the Black Republic of Hayti, where
the colored race have begun the experiment of self-government,—thus
adding manifest outrage of International
Law to manifest outrage of the Constitution,
while the long-suffering African was condemned to new
indignity. All these things, so utterly indefensible and
aggravating, and therefore to be promptly disowned,
found defenders on this floor. The President who was
the original author of the wrongs continued to maintain
them, and appealed to Republican Senators for help,—thus
fulfilling the eccentric stipulation with the Government
of Baez executed by his Aide-de-Camp.
At last a Republican Senator, who felt it his duty to
exhibit these plain violations of the Constitution and of
International Law, and then in obedience to the irresistible
promptings of his nature and in harmony with
his whole life pleaded for the equal rights of the Black
Republic, who declared that he did this as a Republican
and to save the party from this wretched complicity,—this
Republican Senator, engaged in a patriotic service,
and anxious to save the colored people from outrage,
was denounced on this floor as a traitor to the party;
and this was done by a Senator speaking for the party,
and known to be in intimate relations with the President
guilty of these wrongs. Evidently the party was in process
of change from that generous association dedicated
to Human Rights and to the guardianship of the African
race. Too plainly it was becoming the instrument of
one man and his personal will,—no matter how much
he set at defiance the Constitution and International
Law, or how much he insulted the colored people. The
President was to be maintained at all hazards, notwithstanding
his aberrations, and all who called them in
question were to be struck down.
In exhibiting this autocratic pretension, so revolutionary
and unrepublican in character, I mean to be moderate
in language and to keep within the strictest bounds.
The facts are indisputable, and nobody can deny the
gross violation of the Constitution and of International
Law with insult to the Black Republic,—the whole
case being more reprehensible, as also plainly more unconstitutional
and more illegal, than anything alleged
against Andrew Johnson on his impeachment. Believe
me, Sir, I should gladly leave this matter to the judgment
already recorded, if it were not put in issue again
by the extraordinary efforts, radiating on every line of
office, to press its author for a second term as President;
and since silence gives consent, all these efforts are his
efforts. They become more noteworthy when it is considered
that the name of the candidate thus pressed has
become a sign of discord and not of concord, dividing
instead of uniting the Republican Party, so that these
extraordinary efforts tend directly to the disruption of
the party,—all of which he witnesses, and again by his
silence ratifies. “Let the party split,” says the President,
“I will not renounce my chance of a second
term.” The extent of this personal pressure and the
subordination of the party to the will of an individual
compel us to consider his pretensions. These, too, are
in issue.
“Upon what meat doth this our Cæsar feed,” that he
should assume so much? No honor for victory in war
can justify disobedience to the Constitution and to Law;
nor can it afford the least apology for any personal immunity,
privilege, or license in the Presidential office.
A President must turn into a King before it can be said
of him that he can do no wrong. He is responsible always.
As President he is foremost servant of the Law,
bound to obey its slightest mandate. As the elect of
the people he owes not only the example of willing obedience,
but also of fidelity and industry in the discharge
of his exalted office, with an absolute abnegation of all
self-seeking. Nothing for self, but all for country. And
now, as we regard the career of this candidate, we find
to our amazement how little it accords with this simple
requirement. Bring it to the touchstone and it fails.
Not only are Constitution and Law disregarded, but
the Presidential office itself is treated as little more than
a plaything and a perquisite,—when not the former,
then the latter. Here the details are ample, showing
how from the beginning this august trust has dropped to
be a personal indulgence, where palace-cars, fast horses,
and seaside loiterings figure more than duties; how
personal aims and objects have been more prominent
than the public interest; how the Presidential office has
been used to advance his own family on a scale of nepotism
dwarfing everything of the kind in our history, and
hardly equalled in the corrupt governments where this
abuse has most prevailed; how in the same spirit office
has been conferred upon those from whom he had received
gifts or benefits, thus making the country repay
his personal obligations; how personal devotion to himself,
rather than public or party service, has been made
the standard of favor; how the vast appointing power
conferred by the Constitution for the general welfare has
been employed at his will to promote his schemes, to
reward his friends, to punish his opponents, and to advance
his election to a second term; how all these assumptions
have matured in a personal government, semi-military
in character and breathing the military spirit,—being
a species of Cæsarism or personalism, abhorrent to
republican institutions, where subservience to the President
is the supreme law; how in maintaining this subservience
he has operated by a system of combinations,
military, political, and even senatorial, having their orbits
about him, so that, like the planet Saturn, he is surrounded
by rings,—nor does the similitude end here, for
his rings, like those of the planet, are held in position
by satellites; how this utterly unrepublican Cæsarism
has mastered the Republican Party and dictated the
Presidential will, stalking into the Senate Chamber itself,
while a vindictive spirit visits good Republicans
who cannot submit; how the President himself, unconscious
that a President has no right to quarrel with
anybody, insists upon quarrelling until he has become
the great Presidential quarreller, with more quarrels
than all other Presidents together, all begun and continued
by himself; how his personal followers back him in
quarrels, insult those he insults, and then, not departing
from his spirit, cry out, with Shakespeare, “We will
have rings and things and fine array”; and, finally, how
the chosen head of the Republic is known chiefly for
Presidential pretensions, utterly indefensible in character,
derogatory to the country, and of evil influence,
making personal objects a primary pursuit, so that,
instead of a beneficent presence, he is a bad example,
through whom republican institutions suffer and the
people learn to do wrong.
Would that these things could be forgotten! but since
through officious friends the President insists upon a
second term, they must be considered and publicly discussed.
When understood, nobody will vindicate them.
It is easy to see that Cæsarism even in Europe is at a
discount, that “personal government” has been beaten
on that ancient field, and that “Cæsar with a Senate at
his heels” is not the fit model for our Republic. King
George the Third of England, so peculiar for narrowness
and obstinacy, had retainers in Parliament who went
under the name of “The King’s Friends.” Nothing can
be allowed here to justify the inquiry, “Have we a King
George among us?”—or that other question, “Have
we a party in the Senate of ‘The King’s Friends’?”
Personal Government is autocratic. It is the One-Man
Power elevated above all else, and is therefore in
direct conflict with republican government, whose consummate
form is tripartite, being executive, legislative,
and judicial,—each independent and coëqual. From
Mr. Madison, in “The Federalist,” we learn that the accumulation
of these powers “in the same hands” may
justly be pronounced “the very definition of Tyranny.”[47]
And so any attempt by either to exercise the powers of
another is a tyrannical invasion, always reprehensible in
proportion to its extent. John Adams tells us, in most
instructive words, that “it is by balancing each of these
powers against the other two that the efforts in human
nature towards tyranny can alone be checked and restrained,
and any degree of freedom preserved in the
Constitution.”[48]
Then, again, the same authority says that the perfection
of this great idea is “by giving each division a
power to defend itself by a negative.”[49] In other words,
each is armed against invasion by the others. Accordingly,
the Constitution of Virginia, in 1776, famous as
an historical precedent, declared expressly: “The legislative,
executive, and judiciary departments shall be
separate and distinct, so that neither exercise the powers
properly belonging to the other; nor shall any person
exercise the powers of more than one of them at the
same time.”[50]
The Constitution of Massachusetts, dating from 1780,
embodied the same principle in memorable words: “In
the government of this Commonwealth, the legislative
department shall never exercise the executive and judicial
powers, or either of them; the executive shall never
exercise the legislative and judicial powers, or either of
them; the judicial shall never exercise the legislative
and executive powers, or either of them: to the end it
may be a government of laws and not of men.”[51]
A government of laws and not of men is the object of
republican government; nay, more, it is the distinctive
essence without which it becomes a tyranny. Therefore
personal government in all its forms, and especially
when it seeks to sway the action of any other branch or
overturn its constitutional negative, is hostile to the first
principles of republican institutions, and an unquestionable
outrage. That our President has offended in this
way is unhappily too apparent.
To comprehend the personal government that has
been installed over us we must know its author. His
picture is the necessary frontispiece,—not as soldier,
let it be borne in mind, but as civilian. The President
is titular head of the Army and Navy of the United
States, but his office is not military or naval. As if
to exclude all question, he is classed by the Constitution
among “civil officers.” Therefore as civilian is he to be
seen. Then, perhaps, may we learn the secret of the policy
so adverse to republicanism in which he perseveres.
To appreciate his peculiar character as a civilian it is
important to know his triumphs as a soldier, for the one
is the natural complement of the other. The successful
soldier is rarely changed to the successful civilian. There
seems an incompatibility between the two, modified by
the extent to which one has been allowed to exclude
the other. One always a soldier cannot late in life become
a statesman; one always a civilian cannot late in
life become a soldier. Education and experience are
needed for each. Washington and Jackson were civilians
as well as soldiers.
In the large training and experience of Antiquity the
soldier and civilian were often united; but in modern
times this has been seldom. The camp is peculiar in
the influence it exercises; it is in itself an education;
but it is not the education of the statesman. To suppose
that we can change without preparation from the
soldier to the statesman is to assume that training and
experience are of less consequence for the one than the
other,—that a man may be born a statesman, but can
fit himself as a soldier only by four years at West Point,
careful scientific study, the command of troops, and experience
in the tented field. And is nothing required
for the statesman? Is his duty so slight? His study is
the nation and its welfare, turning always to history for
example, to law for authority, and to the loftiest truth
for rules of conduct. No knowledge, care, or virtue,
disciplined by habit, can be too great. The pilot is not
accepted in his trust until he knows the signs of the
storm, the secrets of navigation, the rocks of the coast,—all
of which are learned only by careful study with charts
and soundings, by coasting the land and watching the
crested wave. But can less be expected of that other
pilot who is to steer the ship which contains us all?
The failure of the modern soldier as statesman is exhibited
by Mr. Buckle in his remarkable work on the
“History of Civilization.” Writing as a philosopher devoted
to liberal ideas, he does not disguise that in Antiquity
“the most eminent soldiers were likewise the most
eminent politicians”; but he plainly shows the reason
when he adds, that “in the midst of the hurry and turmoil
of camps these eminent men cultivated their minds
to the highest point that the knowledge of that age
would allow.”[52] The secret was culture not confined to
war. In modern Europe few soldiers have been more
conspicuous than Gustavus Adolphus and Frederick
sometimes called the Great; but we learn from our
author that both “failed ignominiously in their domestic
policy, and showed themselves as short-sighted in the
arts of peace as they were sagacious in the arts of war.”[53]
The judgment of Marlborough is more pointed. While
portraying him as “the greatest conqueror of his age,
the hero of a hundred fights, the victor of Blenheim and
of Ramillies,” the same philosophical writer adds that
he was “a man not only of the most idle and frivolous
pursuits, but was so miserably ignorant that his deficiencies
made him the ridicule of his contemporaries,”
while his politics were compounded of selfishness and
treachery.[54] Nor was Wellington an exception. Though
shining in the field without a rival, and remarkable for
integrity of purpose, an unflinching honesty, and high
moral feeling, the conqueror of Waterloo is described as
“nevertheless utterly unequal to the complicated exigencies
of political life.”[55] This judgment of the philosopher
is confirmed by that of Metternich, the renowned
statesman, who, after encountering Wellington at the
Congresses of Vienna and Verona, did not hesitate to
write of him as “the great Baby.”[56] Such are the examples
of history, each with its warning.
It would be hard to find anything in the native endowments
or in the training of our chieftain to make
him an illustrious exception; at least nothing of this
kind is recorded. Was Nature more generous with him
than with Marlborough or Wellington, Gustavus Adolphus
or Frederick called the Great? or was his experience
of life a better preparation than theirs? And yet
they failed, except in war. It is not known that our
chieftain had any experience as a civilian until he became
President, nor does any partisan attribute to him
that double culture which in Antiquity made the same
man soldier and statesman. It has often been said that
he took no note of public affairs, never voting but once
in his life, and then for James Buchanan. After leaving
West Point he became a captain in the Army, but
soon abandoned the service, to reappear at a later day
as a successful general. There is no reason to believe
that he employed this intermediate period in any way
calculated to improve him as a statesman. One of his
unhesitating supporters, my colleague, [Mr. Wilson,] in
a speech intended to commend him for reëlection, says:
“Before the war we knew nothing of Grant. He was
earning a few hundred dollars a year in tanning hides
in Galena.”[57] By the war he passed to be President;
and such was his preparation to govern the Great Republic,
making it an example to mankind! Thus he
learned to deal with all questions, domestic and foreign,
whether of peace or war, to declare Constitutional Law
and International Law, and to administer the vast appointing
power, creating Cabinet officers, judges, foreign
ministers, and an uncounted army of office-holders!
To these things must be added, that when this soldier
first began as civilian he was already forty-six years old.
At this mature age, close upon half a century, when habits
are irrevocably fixed, when the mind has hardened
against what is new, when the character has taken its
permanent form, and the whole man is rooted in his own
unchangeable individuality, our soldier entered abruptly
upon the untried life of a civilian in its most exalted
sphere. Do not be surprised, that, like other soldiers,
he failed; the wonder would be had he succeeded.
There is a French saying, that at forty a man has given
his measure. At least his vocation is settled,—how
completely is seen, if we suppose the statesman, after
traversing the dividing point, abruptly changed to the
soldier. And yet at an age nearly seven years later our
soldier precipitately changed to the statesman.
This sudden metamorphosis cannot be forgotten, when
we seek to comprehend the strange pretensions which
ensued. It is easy to see how some very moderate experience
in civil life, involving of course the lesson of
subordination to republican principles, would have prevented
indefensible acts.
Something also must be attributed to individual character.
And here I express no opinion of my own; I
shall allow another to speak in solemn words echoed
from the tomb.
On reaching Washington at the opening of Congress
in December, 1869, I was pained to hear that Mr. Stanton,
lately Secretary of War, was in failing health. Full
of gratitude for his unsurpassed services, and with a
sentiment of friendship quickened by common political
sympathies, I lost no time in seeing him, and repeated
my visits until his death, toward the close of the same
month. My last visit was marked by a communication
never to be forgotten. As I entered his bedroom, where
I found him reclining on a sofa, propped by pillows, he
reached out his hand, already clammy cold, and in reply
to my inquiry, “How are you?” answered, “Waiting
for my furlough.” Then at once, with singular solemnity,
he said, “I have something to say to you.” When
I was seated, he proceeded without one word of introduction:
“I know General Grant better than any other
person in the country can know him. It was my duty
to study him, and I did so night and day, when I saw him
and when I did not see him; and now I tell you what
I know: he cannot govern this country.” The intensity
of his manner and the positiveness of his judgment surprised
me; for, though I was aware that the late Secretary
of War did not place the President very high in general
capacity, I was not prepared for a judgment so strongly
couched. At last, after some delay, occupied in meditating
his remarkable words, I observed, “What you say
is very broad.” “It is as true as it is broad,” he replied
promptly. I added, “You are tardy; you tell this late:
why did you not say it before his nomination?” He
answered, that he was not consulted about the nomination,
and had no opportunity of expressing his opinion
upon it, besides being much occupied at the time by his
duties as Secretary of War and his contest with the
President. I followed by saying, “But you took part in
the Presidential election, and made a succession of
speeches for him in Ohio and Pennsylvania.” “I
spoke,” said he, “but I never introduced the name of
General Grant. I spoke for the Republican Party and
the Republican cause.” This was the last time I saw
Mr. Stanton. A few days later I followed him to the
grave where he now rests. As the vagaries of the President
became more manifest, and the Presidential office
seemed more and more a plaything and perquisite, this
dying judgment of the great citizen who knew him so
well haunted me constantly, day and night; and I now
communicate it to my country, feeling that it is a legacy
which I have no right to withhold. Beyond the intrinsic
interest from its author, it is not without value as testimony
in considering how the President could have been
led into that Quixotism of personal pretension which it
is my duty to expose.[58]
Pardon me, if I repeat that it is my duty to make
this exposure, spreading before you the proofs of that
personal government, which will only pass without censure
when it passes without observation. Insisting upon
reëlection, the President challenges inquiry and puts
himself upon the country. But even if his pressure for
reëlection did not menace the tranquillity of the country,
it is important that the personal pretensions he has
set up should be exposed, that no President hereafter
may venture upon such ways, and no Senator presume
to defend them. The case is clear as noon.
In opening this catalogue I select two typical instances,—Nepotism,
and Gift-Taking with repayment
by office, each absolutely indefensible in the head of a
Republic, most pernicious in example, and showing beyond
question that surpassing egotism which changed
the Presidential office into a personal instrumentality,
not unlike the trunk of an elephant, apt for all things,
small as well as great, from provision for a relation to
forcing a treaty on a reluctant Senate, or forcing a reëlection
on a reluctant people.
Between these two typical instances I hesitate which
to place foremost: but since the nepotism of the President
is a ruling passion, revealing the primary instincts
of his nature,—since it is maintained by him in utter
unconsciousness of its offensive character,—since, instead
of blushing for it as an unhappy mistake, he continues
to uphold it,—since it has been openly defended
by Senators on this floor,—and since no true patriot
anxious for republican institutions can doubt that it
ought to be driven with hissing and scorn from all possibility
of repetition,—I begin with this undoubted
abuse.
There has been no call of Congress for a return of the
relations holding office, stipend, or money-making opportunity
under the President. The country is left to
the press for information on this important subject. If
there is any exaggeration, the President is in fault,—since,
knowing the discreditable allegations, he has not
hastened to furnish the precise facts, or at least his partisans
have failed in not calling for the official information.
In the mood which they have shown in this
Chamber, it is evident that any resolution calling for it,
moved by a Senator not known to be for his reëlection,
would meet with opposition, and an effort to vindicate
republican institutions would be denounced as an assault
on the President. But the newspapers have placed
enough beyond question for judgment on this extraordinary
case, although thus far there has been no attempt
to appreciate it, especially in the light of history.
One list makes the number of beneficiaries as many
as forty-two, being probably every known person allied
to the President by blood or marriage. Persons seeming
to speak for the President, or at least after careful
inquiries, have denied the accuracy of this list, reducing
it to thirteen. It will not be questioned that there is at
least a baker’s dozen in this category,—thirteen relations
of the President billeted on the country, not one
of whom but for this relationship would have been
brought forward, the whole constituting a case of nepotism
not unworthy of those worst governments where
office is a family possession.
Beyond the list of thirteen are other revelations, showing
that this strange abuse did not stop with the President’s
relations, but that these obtained appointments
for others in their circle,—so that every relation became
a centre of influence, while the Presidential family
extended indefinitely.
Hitherto only one President has appointed relations,
and that was John Adams; but he found public opinion,
inspired by the example of Washington, so strong against
it, that, after a slight experiment, he replied to an applicant,
“You know it is impossible for me to appoint my
own relations to anything, without drawing forth a torrent
of obloquy.”[59] The judgment of the country found
voice in Thomas Jefferson, who, in a letter written shortly
after he became President, used these strong words:
“Mr. Adams degraded himself infinitely by his conduct
on this subject.”[60] But John Adams, besides transferring
his son John Quincy Adams from one diplomatic post
to another, appointed only two relations. Pray, Sir, what
words would Jefferson use, if he were here to speak on
the open and multifarious nepotism of our President?
The Presidential pretension is so important in every
aspect, and the character of republican institutions is so
absolutely compromised by its toleration, that it cannot
be treated in any perfunctory way. It shall not be my
fault, if hereafter there is any doubt with regard to it.
The word “Nepotism” is of Italian origin. First appearing
at Rome when the Papal power was at its height,
it served to designate the authority and influence exercised
by the nephews, or more generally the family, of
a Pope: all the family of a Pope were nephews, and the
Pope was universal uncle. From Italian the word passed
into other European languages, but in the lapse of time
or process of naturalization it has come to denote the
misconduct of the appointing power, and has amplified
so as to embrace others besides Popes who appoint relations
to office. Johnson in his Dictionary defines it
simply as “Fondness for nephews”; but our latest and
best lexicographer, Worcester, supplies a definition more
complete and satisfactory: “Favoritism shown to relations;
patronage bestowed in consideration of family relationship
and not of merit.” Such undoubtedly is the
meaning of the word as now received and employed.
The character of this pretension appears in its origin
and history. As far back as 1667 this undoubted abuse
occupied attention to such a degree that it became the
subject of an able historical work, entitled “Il Nipotismo
di Roma,” which is full of instruction and warning even
for our Republic. In the early days of the Church Popes
are described as discarding all relationship, whether of
blood or alliance, and inclining to merit alone in their
appointments, although there were some with so large
a number of nephews, grand-nephews, brothers-in-law,
and relations, as to baffle belief; and yet it is recorded
that no sooner did the good Pope enter the Vatican,
which is the Executive Mansion of Rome, than relations
fled, brothers-in-law hid themselves, grand-nephews removed
away, and nephews got at a long distance.[61] Such
was the early virtue. Nepotism did not exist, and the
word itself was unknown.
At last, in 1471, twenty-one years before the discovery
of America by Columbus, Sixtus the Fourth became
Pope, and with him began that nepotism which
soon became famous as a Roman institution.[62] Born
in 1414, the son of a fisherman, the eminent founder
was already fifty-seven years old, and he reigned thirteen
years, bringing to his functions large experience as
a successful preacher and as general of the Franciscan
friars. Though cradled in poverty, and by the vows of
his Order bound to mendicancy, he began at once to
heap office and riches upon the various members of his
family, so that his conduct, from its barefaced inconsistency
with the obligation of his life, excited, according
to the historian, “the amazement and wonder of
all.”[63] The useful reforms he attempted are forgotten,
and this remarkable pontiff is chiefly remembered now
as the earliest nepotist. Different degrees of severity
are employed by different authors in characterizing this
unhappy fame. Bouillet, in his Dictionary of History,[64]
having Catholic approbation, describes him as “feeble
toward his nephews”; and our own Cyclopædia,[65] in a
brief exposition of his character, says “he made himself
odious by excessive nepotism.” But in all varieties of
expression the offence stands out for judgment.
The immediate successor of Sixtus was Innocent the
Eighth, whom the historian describes as “very cold to
his relations,”[66] since three only obtained preferment at
his hands. But the example of the founder so far prevailed
that for a century nepotism, as was said, “lorded
it in Rome,”[67] except in a few instances worthy of commemoration
and example.
Of these exceptions, the first in time was Julius the
Second, founder of St. Peter’s at Rome, whose remarkable
countenance is so beautifully preserved by the genius
of Rafael. Though the nephew of the nepotist, and not
declining to appoint all relations, he did it with such
moderation that Rome was said to have been “almost
without nepotism” in his time.[68] Adrian the Sixth,
early teacher of Charles the Fifth, and successor of Leo
the Tenth, set a better example by refusing absolutely;
but so accustomed had Rome become to this abuse, that
not only the ambassadors, but the people, condemned
him as “too rude” with his relations. A son of his
cousin, studying in Siena, started for Rome, trusting to
obtain important recognition; but the Pope, without
seeing him, sent him back on a hired horse. Relations
thronged from other places, and even from across the
Alps, longing for that greatness which other Popes had
lavished on family; but Adrian dismissed them with a
slight change of clothing and an allowance of money for
the journey: one who from poverty came on foot was
permitted to return on foot. This Pope carried abnegation
of his family so far as to make relationship an excuse
for not rewarding one who had served the Church
well.[69] Similar in character was Marcellus the Second,
who became Pope in 1555. He was unwilling that any
of his family should come to Rome; even his brother
was forbidden: but this good example was closed by
death, after a reign of twenty days only; and yet this
brief period of exemplary virtue has made this pontiff
famous. Kindred in spirit was Urban the Seventh, who
reigned thirteen days only in 1590, but long enough to
repel his relations,—and also Leo the Eleventh, who
reigned twenty-five days in 1605. To this list may be
added Innocent the Ninth, who died after two months
of service. It is related that his death displeased his
relations much, and dissolved the air-castles they had
built. They had hurried from Bologna, but, except a
grand-nephew, all were obliged to return poor as they
came.[70] In this list I must not forget Pius the Fifth,
who reigned from 1566 to 1572. He set himself so
completely against aggrandizing his own family, that he
was with difficulty persuaded to make a sister’s son cardinal,—and
would not have done it, had not all the
cardinals united, on grounds of conscience, against the
denial of this dignity to one most worthy of it.[71] Such
virtue was part of that elevated character which caused
his subsequent canonization.
These good Popes were short-lived,—their reigns for
the most part counting by days only; but they opened
happy glimpses of an administration where the powers
of government were not treated as a personal perquisite.
The opposite list had the advantage of time.
Conspicuous among nepotists was Alexander the Sixth,
whose family name of Borgia is damned to fame. With
him nepotism assumed its most brutal and barbarous development,
reflecting the character of its pontifical author,
who was without the smallest ray of good. Other
Popes were less cruel and bloody, but not less determined
in providing for their families. Paul the Third, who was
of the great house of Farnese, would have had the estates
of the Church a garden for the “lilies” which flourish
on the escutcheon of his family.[72] It is related that
when Urban the Eighth, who was a Barberini, began his
historic reign, all his relations at a distance flew to Rome
like the “bees” on the family arms, to suck the honey
of the Church, but not leaving behind the sting with
which they pricked while they sucked.[73] Whether lilies
or bees, it was the same. The latter pontiff gave to nepotism
fulness of power when he resolved “to have no
business with any one not dependent upon his house.”[74]
In the same spirit he excused himself from making a
man cardinal because he had “always been the enemy
of his nephews.”[75] Although nothing so positive is recorded
of Paul the Fifth, who was a Borghese, his nepotism
appears in the Roman saying, that, “while serving
the Church as a good shepherd, he gave too much wool
to his nephews.”[76] These instructive incidents, illustrating
the pontifical pretension, reflect light on the history
of palaces and galleries at Rome, now admired by the
visitor from distant lands. If not created, they were at
least enlarged by nepotism.
It does not always appear how many relations a Pope
endowed. Often it was all, as in the case of Gregory
the Thirteenth, who, besides advancing a nephew actually
at Rome, called thither all his nephews and grand-nephews,
whether from brothers or sisters, and gave
them offices, dignities, governments, lordships, prelacies,
and abbacies.[77] Cæsar Borgia and his sister Lucretia
were not the only relations of Alexander the Sixth. I
do not find the number adopted by Sixtus, the founder
of the system. Pius the Fourth, who was of the grasping
Medicean family, favored no less than twenty-five.[78]
Alexander the Seventh, of the Chigi family, had about
him five nephews and one brother, which a contemporary
characterized as “nepotism all complete.”[79] This
pontiff began his reign by forbidding his relations to
appear at Rome, which redounded at once to his credit
throughout the Christian world, while the astonished
people discoursed of his holiness and the purity of his
life, expecting even to see miracles. In making the
change, he yielded evidently to immoral pressure and
the example of predecessors.
The performances of papal nephews figure in history.
After the Borgias were the Caraffas, who obtained power
through Paul the Fourth; but at last becoming too insolent
and rapacious, their uncle was compelled to strip
them of their dignities and drive them from Rome.[80]
Sometimes nephews were employed chiefly in ministering
to pontifical pleasures, as in the case of Julius
the Third, who, according to the historian, “thought
of nothing but banqueting with this one and that one,
keeping his relations in Rome rather to accompany him
at banquets than to aid him in the government of the
holy Church, about which he thought little.”[81] This
occasion for relations does not exist at Rome now, as the
pontiff leads a discreet life, always at home, and never
banquets abroad.
These historic instances make us see nepotism in its
original seat. Would you know how it was regarded
there? Sometimes it was called a hydra with many
heads, sprouting anew at the election of a pontiff,[82]
then again it was called Ottoman rather than Christian
in character.[83] The contemporary historian who has
described it so minutely says that those who merely read
of it without seeing it will find it difficult to believe or
even imagine.[84] The qualities of a Pope’s relation were
said to be “ignorance and cunning.”[85] It is easy to believe
that this prostitution of the head of the Church was
one of the abuses which excited the cry for Reform, and
awakened even in Rome the echoes of Martin Luther.
A Swedish nobleman visiting Rome is recorded as declaring
himself unwilling to be the subject of a pontiff
who was himself the subject of his own relations.[86] But
even this pretension was not without open defenders,
while the general effrontery with which it was maintained
assumed that it was above question. If some
gave with eyes closed, most gave with eyes open. It
was said that Popes were not to neglect their own blood,
that they should not show themselves worse than the
beasts, not one of which fails to caress its relations; and
the case of bears and lions, the most ferocious of all, was
cited as authority for this recognition of one’s own blood.[87]
All this was soberly said, and it is doubtless true. Not
even a Pope can justly neglect his own blood; but help
and charity must be at his own expense, and not at the
expense of his country. In appointments to office, merit
and not blood is the only just recommendation.
That nepotism has ceased to lord itself in Rome, that
no pontiff billets his relations upon the Church, that
the appointing power of the Pope is treated as a public
trust and not as a personal perquisite,—all this is the
present testimony with regard to that government which
knows from experience the baneful character of this
abuse.
The nepotism of Rome was little known in our country,
and I do not doubt that Washington, when declining
to make the Presidential office a personal perquisite,
was governed by that instinct of duty and patriotism
which rendered him so preëminent. Through all the
perils of a seven years’ war he had battled with that
kingly rule which elevates a whole family without regard
to merit, fastening all upon the nation, and he had
learned that this royal system could find no place in a
republic. Therefore he rejected the claims of relations,
and in nothing was his example more beautiful. His
latest biographer, Washington Irving, records him as
saying:—
“So far as I know my own mind, I would not be in the remotest
degree influenced in making nominations by motives
arising from the ties of family or blood.”[88]
Then again he declared his purpose to “discharge the
duties of the office with that impartiality and zeal for
the public good which ought never to suffer connections
of blood or friendship to intermingle so as to have the
least sway on decisions of a public nature.”[89]
This excellent rule of conduct is illustrated by the
advice to his successor with regard to the promotion of
his son, John Quincy Adams. After giving it as his
“decided opinion” that the latter “is the most valuable
public character we have abroad,” and promises to be
“the ablest of all our diplomatic corps,” Washington
declares:—
“If he was now to be brought into that line, or into any
other public walk, I could not, upon the principle which has
regulated my own conduct, disapprove of the caution which
is hinted at in the letter.”[90]
Considering the importance of the rule, it were better
for the country if it had prevailed over parental regard
and the extraordinary merits of the son.
In vindicating his conduct at a later day, John Adams
protested against what he called “the hypersuperlative
public virtue” of Washington, and insisted: “A President
ought not to appoint a man because he is his relation;
nor ought he to refuse or neglect to appoint him
for that reason.”[91] With absolute certainty that the
President is above all prejudice of family and sensitive
to merit only, this rule is not unreasonable; but who
can be trusted to apply it?
Jefferson developed and explained the true principles in
a manner worthy of republican institutions. In a letter to
a relation immediately after becoming President, he wrote:
“The public will never be made to believe that an appointment
of a relative is made on the ground of merit alone,
uninfluenced by family views; nor can they ever see with approbation
offices, the disposal of which they intrust to their Presidents
for public purposes, divided out as family property.
Mr. Adams degraded himself infinitely by his conduct on
this subject, as General Washington had done himself the
greatest honor. With two such examples to proceed by, I
should be doubly inexcusable to err.”[92]
After his retirement from the Presidency, in a letter
to a kinsman, he asserts the rule again:—
“Towards acquiring the confidence of the people, the
very first measure is to satisfy them of his disinterestedness,
and that he is directing their affairs with a single eye to their
good, and not to build up fortunes for himself and family;
and especially that the officers appointed to transact their
business are appointed because they are the fittest men, not
because they are his relations. So prone are they to suspicion,
that, where a President appoints a relation of his own,
however worthy, they will believe that favor, and not merit,
was the motive. I therefore laid it down as a law of conduct
for myself, never to give an appointment to a relation.”[93]
That statement is unanswerable. The elect of the
people must live so as best to maintain their interests
and to elevate the national sentiment. This can be only
by an example of unselfish devotion to the public weal
which shall be above suspicion. A President suspected
of weakness for his relations is already shorn of strength.
In saying that his predecessor “degraded himself infinitely
by his conduct on this subject,” Jefferson shows
the rigor of his requirement. Besides the transfer of his
son, John Quincy Adams, from one diplomatic mission
of lower grade to another of a higher, John Adams is responsible
for the appointment of his son-in-law, Colonel
Smith, as surveyor of the port of New York, and his
wife’s nephew, William Cranch, as chief-justice of the
Circuit Court of the District of Columbia,—both persons
of merit, and the former “serving through the war
with high applause of his superiors.”[94] The public sentiment
appears in the condemnation of these appointments.
In refusing another of his relations, we have
already seen[95] that John Adams wrote: “You know it is
impossible for me to appoint my own relations to anything
without drawing forth a torrent of obloquy.” But
this torrent was nothing but the judgment of the American
people unwilling that republican institutions at that
early day should suffer.
Thus far John Adams stands alone. If any other
President has made appointments from his own family,
it has been on so petty a scale as not to be recognized
in history. John Quincy Adams, when President, did
not follow his father. An early letter to his mother
foreshadows a rule not unlike that of Jefferson:—
“I hope, my ever dear and honored mother, that you are
fully convinced from my letters, which you have before this received,
that upon the contingency of my father’s being placed
in the first magistracy I shall never give him any trouble by
solicitation for office of any kind. Your late letters have repeated
so many times that I shall in that case have nothing
to expect, that I am afraid you have imagined it possible that
I might form expectations from such an event. I had hoped
that my mother knew me better; that she did me the justice
to believe that I have not been so totally regardless or forgetful
of the principles which my education had instilled, nor so
totally destitute of a personal sense of delicacy, as to be susceptible
of a wish tending in that direction.”[96]
To Jefferson’s sense of public duty John Quincy Adams
added the sense of personal delicacy, both strong against
such appointment of relations. To the irresistible judgment
against this abuse, a recent moralist, of lofty nature,
Theodore Parker, imparts new expression, when he
says, “It is a dangerous and unjust practice.”[97] This is
simple and monitory.
Without the avalanche of testimony against this Presidential
pretension, it is necessary only to glance at the
defences sometimes set up; for such is the insensibility
bred by Presidential example, that even this intolerable
outrage is not without voices speaking for the President.
Sometimes it is said, that, his salary being far from royal,
the people will not scan closely an attempt to help relations,—which,
being interpreted, means that the President
may supplement the pettiness of his salary by the
appointing power. Let John Adams, who did not hesitate
to bestow office upon a few relations of unquestioned
merit, judge this pretension. I quote his words:—
“Every public man should be honestly paid for his services.…
But he should be restrained from every perquisite
not known to the laws, and he should make no claims upon
the gratitude of the public, nor ever confer an office within
his patronage upon a son, a brother, a friend, upon pretence
that he is not paid for his services by the profits of his office.”[98]
It is impossible to deny the soundness of this requirement
and its completeness as an answer to one of the
apologies.
Sometimes the defender is more audacious, insisting
openly upon the Presidential prerogative without question,
until we seem to hear in aggravated form the obnoxious
cry, “To the victor belong the spoils.” I did
not suppose that this old cry could be revived in any
form; but since it is heard again, I choose to expose it;
and here I use the language of Madison, whose mild
wisdom has illumined so much of constitutional duty.
In his judgment the pretension was odious, “that offices
and emoluments were the spoils of victory, the personal
property of the successful candidate for the Presidency”;
and he adds in words not to be forgotten at this
moment:—
“The principle, if avowed without the practice, or practised
without the avowal, could not fail to degrade any Administration,—both
together, completely so.”[99]
This is strong language. The rule in its early form
could not fail to degrade any Administration. But now
this degrading rule is extended, and we are told that to
the President’s family belong the spoils.
Another apology, vouchsafed even on this floor, is,
that, if the President cannot appoint his relations, they
alone of all citizens are excluded from office,—which, it
is said, should not be. But is it not for the public good
that they should be excluded? Such was the wise judgment
of Jefferson, and such is the testimony from another
quarter. That eminent prelate, Bishop Butler,
who has given to English literature one of its most
masterly productions, known as “Butler’s Analogy,”
after his elevation to the see of Durham with its remarkable
patronage, was so self-denying with regard to his
family that a nephew said to him, “Methinks, my Lord,
it is a misfortune to be related to you.”[100] Golden words
of honor for the English Bishop! But none such have
been earned by the American President.
Assuming that in case of positive merit designating a
citizen for a particular post the President might appoint
a relation, it would be only where the merit was so shining
that his absence would be noticed. At least it must
be such as to make the citizen a candidate without regard
to family. But no such merit is attributed to the
beneficiaries of our President, some of whom have done
little but bring scandal upon the public service. At
least one is tainted with fraud; and another, with the
commission of the Republic abroad, has been guilty of
indiscretions inconsistent with his trust. Appointed
originally in open defiance of republican principles, they
have been retained in office after their unfitness became
painfully manifest. By the testimony before a Congressional
Committee, one of these, a brother-in-law, was
implicated in bribery and corruption. It is said that
at last, after considerable delay, the President has consented
to his removal.
Here I leave for the present this enormous unrepublican
pretension, waiting to hear if it can again find an
apologist. Is there a single Senator who will not dismiss
it to judgment?
From one typical abuse I pass to another. From a
dropsical Nepotism swollen to elephantiasis, which nobody
can defend, I pass to Gift-Taking, which with our
President has assumed an unprecedented form. Sometimes
public men even in our country have taken gifts,
but it is not known that any President before has repaid
the patron with office. For a public man to take gifts
is reprehensible; for a President to select Cabinet councillors
and other officers among those from whom he has
taken gifts is an anomaly in republican annals. Observe,
Sir, that I speak of it gently, unwilling to exhibit
the indignation which such a Presidential pretension is
calculated to arouse. The country will judge it, and
blot it out as an example.
There have been throughout history corrupt characters
in official station; but, whether in ancient or modern
times, the testimony is constant against the taking
of gifts, and nowhere with more force than in our Scriptures,
where it is said: “Thou shalt not wrest judgment,
thou shalt not respect persons, neither take a gift; for
a gift doth blind the eyes of the wise.”[101] Here is the
inhibition, and also the reason, which slight observation
shows to be true. Does not a gift blind the eyes of the
wise? The influence of gifts is represented by Plutarch
in the life of a Spartan king:—
“For he thought those ways of entrapping men by gifts
and presents, which other kings use, dishonest and inartificial;
and it seemed to him to be the most noble method and
most suitable to a king to win the affections of those that came
near him by personal intercourse and agreeable conversation,
since between a friend and a mercenary the only distinction
is, that we gain the one by one’s character and conversation,
the other by one’s money.”[102]
What is done under the influence of a gift is mercenary;
but whether from ruler to subject or from subject
to ruler, the gift is equally pernicious. An ancient patriot
“feared the Greeks bearing gifts,”[103] and these words
have become a proverb; but there are Greeks bearing
gifts elsewhere than at Troy. A public man can traffic
with such only at his peril. At their appearance the
prayer should be said, “Lead us not into temptation.”
The best examples testify. Thus, in the autobiography
of Lord Brougham, posthumously published, it appears
that at a great meeting in Glasgow five hundred pounds
were subscribed as a gift to him for his public service,
to be put into such form as he might think best. He
hesitated. “This required,” he records, “much consideration,
as such gifts were liable to be abused.” Not content
with his own judgment, he assembled some friends
to discuss it,—“Lord Holland, Lord Erskine, Romilly,
and Baring,”—and he wrote to Earl Grey, afterward
Prime-Minister, who replied:—
“Both Grenville and I accepted from the Catholics of
Glasgow a piece of plate—of no great value indeed—after
we were turned out in 1807.… If you still feel scruples, I
can only add that it is impossible to err on the side of delicacy
with respect to matters of this nature.”
It ended in his declining to accept anything more
than the small top of a gold inkstand.[104]
In our country Washington keeps his lofty heights,
setting himself against gift-taking as against nepotism.
In 1785, while in private life, two years after he ceased
to be commander-in-chief of our armies and four years
before he became President, he could not be induced to
accept a certain amount of canal stock offered him by
the State of Virginia, as appears in an official communication:—
“It gives me great pleasure to inform you that the Assembly
yesterday, without a dissenting voice, complimented you
with fifty shares in the Potomac Company and one hundred
in the James River Company.”[105]
Fully to appreciate the reply of Washington, it must
be borne in mind, that, according to Washington Irving,
his biographer, “some degree of economy was necessary,
for his financial concerns had suffered during the war,
and the products of his estate had fallen off.”[106] But
he was not tempted. Thus he wrote:—
“How would this matter be viewed by the eye of the
world, and what would be the opinion of it, when it comes
to be related that George Washington has received twenty
thousand dollars and five thousand pounds sterling of the
public money as an interest therein?… Under whatever
pretence, and however customarily these gratuitous gifts are
made in other countries, should I not thenceforward be considered
as a dependant?”[107]
And subsequently to Jefferson:—
“I never for a moment entertained an idea of accepting
it.”[108]
How admirably he touches the point when he asks,
“Should I not thenceforward be considered as a dependant?”
According to our Scripture the gift blinds the
eyes; according to Washington it makes the receiver a
dependant.
In harmony with this sentiment was his subsequent
refusal, when President, as is recorded by an ingenuous
writer:—
“He was exceedingly careful about committing himself;
would receive no favors of any kind, and scrupulously paid for
everything.… A large house was set apart for him on
Ninth Street, [Philadelphia,] on the grounds now covered by
the Pennsylvania University, which he refused to accept.”[109]
By such instances, brought to light recently, and shining
in contrast with our times, we learn to admire anew
the virtue of Washington.
It would be easy to show how in all ages the refusal of
gifts has been recognized as the sign of virtue, if not the
requirement of duty. The story of St. Louis of France
is beautiful and suggestive. Leaving on a crusade, he
charged the Queen, who remained behind, “not to accept
presents for herself or her children.”[110] Such was one of
the injunctions by which this monarch, when far away on
a pious expedition, impressed himself upon his country.
My own strong convictions on this Presidential pretension
were aroused in a conversation which it was my
privilege to enjoy with John Quincy Adams, as he sat
in his sick-chamber at his son’s house in Boston, a short
time before he fell at his post of duty in the House of
Representatives. In a voice trembling with age and
with emotion, he said that no public man could take
gifts without peril; and he confessed that his own judgment
had been quickened by the example of Count Romanzoff,
the eminent Chancellor of the Russian Empire,
who, after receiving costly gifts from foreign sovereigns
with whom he had negotiated treaties, felt a difficulty
of conscience in keeping them, and at last handed over
their value to a hospital, as he related to Mr. Adams,
then Minister at St. Petersburg.[111] The latter was impressed
by this Russian example, and through his long
career, as Minister abroad, Secretary of State, President,
and Representative, always refused gifts, unless a book
or some small article in its nature a token and not a reward
or bribe.
The Constitution testifies against the taking of gifts
by officers of the United States, when it provides that
“no person holding any office of profit or trust under
them shall, without the consent of the Congress, accept
of any present or emolument from any king, prince, or
foreign State.” The acceptance of a present or emolument
from our own citizens was left without constitutional
inhibition, to be constrained by the public conscience
and the just aversion to any semblance of bargain
and sale, or bribery, in the public service.
The case of our President is exceptional. Notoriously
he has taken gifts while in the public service, some at
least after he had been elected President, until “the
Galena tanner of a few hundred dollars a year”—to
borrow the words of my colleague [Mr. Wilson], one of
his supporters—is now rich in houses, lands, and stock,
above his salary, being probably the richest President
since George Washington. Notoriously he has appointed
to his Cabinet several among these “Greeks bearing
gifts,” without seeming to see the indecorum, if not the
indecency, of the transaction. At least two, if not three,
of these Greeks, having no known position in the Republican
Party, or influence in the country, have been
selected as his counsellors in national affairs and heads
of great departments of government. Again do I repeat
the words of our Scriptures, “A gift doth blind the eyes
of the wise”; again the words of Washington, “Should
I not thenceforward be considered as a dependant?”
Nor does the case of the first Secretary of State differ
in character from that of the other three Cabinet officers
referred to. The President, feeling under personal
obligation to Mr. Washburne for important support, gave
him a complimentary nomination, with the understanding
that after confirmation he should forthwith resign.
I cannot forget the indignant comment of the late Mr.
Fessenden, as we passed out of the Senate Chamber immediately
after the confirmation. “Who,” said he, “ever
heard before of a man nominated Secretary of State
merely as a compliment?” But this is only another
case of the public service subordinated to personal
considerations.
Not only in the Cabinet, but in other offices, there is
reason to believe that the President has been under the
influence of patrons. Why was he so blind to Thomas
Murphy? The custom-house of New York, with all its
capacity as a political engine, was handed over to this
agent, whose want of recognition in the Republican
Party was outbalanced by Presidential favor, and whose
gifts have become notorious. And when the demand
for his removal was irresistible, the President accepted
his resignation with an effusion of sentiment natural
toward a patron, but without justification in the character
of the retiring officer.
Shakespeare, who saw intuitively the springs of human
conduct, touches more than once on the operation
of the gift. “I’ll do thee service for so good a gift,”
said Gloster to Warwick.[112] Then, again, how truly spoke
the lord, who said of Timon,—
“No gift to him
But breeds the giver a return exceeding
All use of quittance.”
[113]
And such were the returns made by the President.
Thus much for gifts, reciprocated by office. The instance
is original and without precedent in our history.
I have now completed the survey of the two typical
instances—Nepotism, and Gift-Taking with repayment
by office—in which we are compelled to see the President.
In these things he shows himself. Here is no
portrait drawn by critic or enemy; it is the original
who stands forth, saying: “Behold the generosity I
practise to my relations at the expense of the public
service! also the gifts I take, and then my way of rewarding
the patrons, always at the expense of the public
service!” In this open exhibition we see how the
Presidency, instead of a trust, has become a perquisite.
Bad as are these two capital instances, and important as
is their condemnation, so that they may not become a
precedent, I dwell on them now as illustrating character.
A President who can do such things, and not recognize
at once the error he has committed, shows that supereminence
of egotism under which Constitution, International
Law, and Municipal Law, to say nothing of Republican
Government in its primary principles, are all
subordinated to the Presidential will; and this is Personal
Government. Add an insensibility to the honest
convictions of others, and you have a natural feature of
this pretension.
Lawyers cite what are called “Leading Cases.” A
few of these show the Presidential will in constant
operation with little regard to precedent or reason, so as
to be a caprice, if it were not a pretension. Imitating
the Popes in Nepotism, the President has imitated them
in ostentatious assumption of Infallibility.
Other Presidents have entered upon their high office
with a certain modesty and distrust. Washington in
his Inaugural Address declared his “anxieties,” also his
sense of “the magnitude and difficulty of the trust,”
“awakening a distrustful scrutiny into his qualifications.”[114]
Jefferson, in his famous Inaugural, so replete
with political wisdom, after declaring his “sincere consciousness
that the task is above his talents,” says: “I
approach it with those anxious and awful presentiments
which the greatness of the charge and the weakness of
my powers so justly inspire, … and humble myself
before the magnitude of the undertaking.”[115]
Our soldier, absolutely untried in civil life, entirely a
new man, entering upon the sublimest duties, before
which Washington and Jefferson had shrunk, said in his
Inaugural: “The responsibilities of the position I feel,
but accept them without fear.”[116] Great predecessors, with
ample preparation for the responsibilities, had shrunk
back with fear. He had none. Either he did not see
the responsibilities, or the Cæsar began to stir in his
bosom.
Next after the Inaugural Address, his first official act
was the selection of his Cabinet; and here the general
disappointment was equalled by the general wonder.
As the President was little known except from the victories
which had commended him, it was not then seen
how completely characteristic was this initial act. Looking
back upon it, we recognize the pretension by which
all tradition, usage, and propriety were discarded, by
which the just expectations of the party that had elected
him were set at nought, and the safeguards of constitutional
government were subordinated to the personal
pretensions of One Man. In this Cabinet were persons
having small relations with the Republican Party and
little position in the country, some absolutely without
claims from public service, and some actually disqualified
by the gifts they had made to the President. Such
was the political phenomenon presented for the first
time in American history, while reported sayings of the
President showed the simplicity with which he acted.
To a committee he described his Cabinet as his “family,”
with which no stranger could be allowed to interfere, and
to a member of Congress he announced that he selected
his Cabinet “to please himself and nobody else,”—being
good rules unquestionably for the organization of
a household and the choice of domestics, to which the
Cabinet seem to have been likened. This personal
government flowered in the Navy Department, where a
gift-bearing Greek was suddenly changed to a Secretary.
No less a personage than the grand old Admiral, the
brave, yet modest Farragut, was reported as asking, on
the fifth of March, the very day when the Cabinet was
announced, in unaffected ignorance, “Do you know anything
of Borie?” And yet this unconspicuous citizen,
bearer of gifts to the President, was constituted the naval
superior of that historic character. If others were
less obscure, the Cabinet as a unit was none the less notable
as the creature of Presidential will, where Chance
vied with Favoritism as arbiter.
All this is so strange, when we consider the true idea
of a Cabinet. Though not named in the Constitution,
yet by virtue of unbroken usage among us, and in harmony
with constitutional governments everywhere, the
Cabinet has become a constitutional body, hardly less
than if expressly established by the Constitution itself.
Its members, besides being the heads of great departments,
are the counsellors of the President, with the
duty to advise him of all matters within the sphere of
his office, being nothing less than the great catalogue in
the Preamble of the Constitution, beginning with duty
to the Union, and ending with the duty to secure the
blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our posterity. Besides
undoubted fitness for these exalted responsibilities,
as head of a department and as counsellor, a member
should have such acknowledged position in the country
that his presence inspires confidence and gives strength
to the Administration. How little these things were
regarded by the President need not be said.
Unquestionably the President has a discretion in the
appointment of his Cabinet; but it is a constitutional
discretion, regulated by regard for the interests of the
country and not by mere personal will, by statesmanship
and not by favoritism. A Cabinet is a national
institution and not a Presidential perquisite,—unless
our President is allowed to copy the example of Imperial
France. In all constitutional governments, the
Cabinet is selected on public reasons, and with a single
eye to the public service; it is not in any respect the
“family” of the sovereign, nor is it “to please himself
and nobody else.” English monarchs have often accepted
statesmen personally disagreeable, when they had
become representatives of the prevailing party,—as
when George the Third, the most obstinate of rulers, accepted
Fox, and George the Fourth, as prejudiced as his
father was obstinate, accepted Canning, each bringing to
the service commanding faculties. It is related that the
Duke of Wellington, with military frankness, encountered
the personal objections of the King in the latter
case, by saying: “Your Majesty is the sovereign of England,
with duties to your people far above any to yourself;
and these duties render it imperative that you
should at this time employ the abilities of Mr. Canning.”[117]
By such instances in a constitutional government is the
Cabinet fixed as a constitutional and not a personal
body. It is only by some extraordinary hallucination
that the President of a Republic dedicated to Constitutional
Liberty can imagine himself invested with a
transforming prerogative above that of any English sovereign,
by which his counsellors are changed from public
officers to personal attendants, and a great constitutional
body, in which all citizens have a common interest,
is made a perquisite of the President.
Marked among the spectacles which followed, and
kindred in character with the appropriation of the Cabinet
as individual property, was the appropriation of the
offices of the country, to which I refer in this place even
at the expense of repetition. Obscure and undeserving
relations, marriage connections, personal retainers, army
associates, friends of unknown fame and notable only as
personal friends or friends of his relations, evidently
absorbed the Presidential mind during those months of
obdurate reticence when a generous people supposed the
Cabinet to be the all-absorbing thought. Judging by
the facts, it would seem as if the chief and most spontaneous
thought was how to exploit the appointing power
to his own personal behoof. At this period the New
York Custom-House presented itself to the imagination,
and a letter was written consigning a military dependant
to the generosity of the Collector. You know the
rest. Dr. Johnson, acting as executor in selling the distillery
of Mr. Thrale, said: “We are not here to sell a
parcel of boilers and vats, but the potentiality of growing
rich beyond the dreams of avarice.”[118] If the President
did not use the sounding phrase of the great English
moralist, it is evident that his military dependant
felt in that letter all the “potentiality” advertised in
the earlier case, and acted accordingly.
It is not necessary to say that in these things there
was departure from the requirements of law, whether in
the appointment of his Cabinet or of personal favorites,
even in return for personal benefactions, although it was
plainly unrepublican, offensive, and indefensible. But
this same usurping spirit, born of an untutored egotism,
brooking no restraint, showed itself in another class of
transactions, to which I have already referred, where
Law and Constitution were little regarded.
First in time and very indigenous in character was
the Presidential attempt against one of the sacred safeguards
of the Treasury, the original workmanship of
Alexander Hamilton, being nothing less than the “Act
to establish the Treasury Department.” Here was an
important provision, “that no person appointed to any
office instituted by this Act shall directly or indirectly
be concerned or interested in carrying on the business
of trade or commerce”; and any person so offending was
declared guilty of a high misdemeanor, and was to forfeit
to the United States three thousand dollars, with
removal from office, and forever thereafter to be incapable
of holding any office under the United States.[119]
From the beginning this statute had stood unquestioned,
until it had acquired the character of fundamental law.
And yet the President, by a special message, dated
March 6, 1869, being the second day of his first service
as a civilian, asked Congress to set it aside, so as to enable
Mr. Stewart, of New York already nominated and
confirmed as Secretary of the Treasury, to enter upon
the duties of this office.[120] This gentleman was unquestionably
the largest merchant who had transacted business
in our country, and his imports were of such magnitude
as to clog the custom-house. If the statute was
anything but one of those cobwebs which catch the
weak, but yield to the rich, this was the occasion for it,
and the President should have yielded to no temptation
against it. The indecorum of his effort stands out more
painfully when it is considered that the merchant for
whom he wished to set aside a time-honored safeguard
was one of those from whom he had received gifts.
Such was the accommodating disposition of the Senate,
that a bill exempting the Presidential benefactor from
the operation of the statute was promptly introduced,
and even read twice, until, as it seemed about to pass,
I felt it my duty to object to its consideration, saying,
according to the Globe, “I think it ought to be most
profoundly considered before it is acted on by the Senate.”[121]
This objection caused its postponement. The
country was startled. By telegraph the general anxiety
was communicated to Washington. Three days later
the President sent a message requesting permission to
withdraw the former message.[122] But he could not withdraw
the impression produced by such open disregard
of the law to promote his personal desire.
The military spirit, which failed in the effort to set
aside a fundamental law as if it were a transient order,
was more successful at the Executive Mansion, which at
once assumed the character of military head-quarters.
To the dishonor of the civil service, and in total disregard
of precedent, the President surrounded himself with
officers of the Army, and substituted military forms for
those of civil life, detailing for this service members of
his late staff. The earliest public notice of this military
occupation appeared in the “Daily Morning Chronicle”
of March 8, 1869, understood to be the official organ of
the Administration:—
“President Grant was not at the White House yesterday,
but the following members of his staff were occupying the
Secretaries’ rooms and acting as such: Generals Babcock,
Porter, Badeau, and Dent.”
This is to be regarded not only in its strange blazonry
of the Presidential pretension, but also as the first apparition
of that minor military ring in which the President
has lived ever since.
Thus installed, Army officers became secretaries of
the President, delivering his messages to both Houses
of Congress, and even authenticating Presidential acts
as if they were military orders. Here, for instance, is
an official communication:—
Executive Mansion,
Washington, D. C., March 15, 1869.
Robert Martin Douglas, Esq.:
Sir,—You are hereby appointed Assistant Private Secretary
to the President, to date from the 15th March, 1869.
By order of the President,
Horace Porter,
Brevet Brigadier-General, Secretary.[123]
Mark the words, “By order of the President,” and
then the signature, “Horace Porter, Brevet Brigadier-General,
Secretary.”
The Presidential pretension which I exhibit on the
simple facts, besides being of doubtful legality, to say
the least, was of evil example, demoralizing alike to the
military and civil service, and an undoubted reproach
to republican institutions in that primary principle, announced
by Jefferson in his first Inaugural Address, “the
supremacy of the civil over the military authority.”[124]
It seemed only to remain that the President should sign
his Messages, “Commander-in-Chief of the Army of the
United States.” Evidently a new order of things had
arrived.
Observe the mildness of my language, when I call
this Presidential pretension “of doubtful legality.” The
law shall speak for itself. Obviously it was the same
for our military President as for his predecessors, and
it was recent also:—
“The President is hereby authorized to appoint a private
secretary at an annual salary of $3,500, an assistant secretary
at an annual salary of $2,500, a short-hand writer at an annual
salary of $2,500, a clerk of pardons at an annual salary
of $2,000, and three clerks of the fourth class.”[125]
It cannot be doubted that this provision was more
than ample; for Congress, by Act of July 20, 1868, repealed
so much as authorized a clerk of pardons, and also
one of the three clerks of the fourth class.[126] Therefore
there could be no necessity for a levy of soldiers to
perform the duties of secretaries, and the conduct of the
President can be explained only by the supposition that
he preferred to be surrounded by Army officers rather
than by civilians, continuing in the Executive Mansion
the traditions of head-quarters: all which, though agreeable
to him and illustrating his character, was an anomaly
and a scandal.
In extenuation of this indefensible pretension, we
have been reminded of two things: first, that according
to the record Washington sent his first message by General
Knox,—when in fact General Knox held no military
office at that time, but was actually Secretary of
War; and, secondly, that the military officers now occupying
the Executive Mansion are detailed for this service
without other salary than that of their grade. As
the Knox precedent is moonshine, the minor military
ring can be vindicated only as a “detail” for service in
the Executive Mansion.
Here again the law shall speak. By Act of Congress
of March 3, 1863, it is provided that “details to special
service shall only be made with the consent of the commanding
officer of forces in the field”;[127] but this, it will
be seen, refers to a state of war. Congress, by Act of
July 16, 1866, authorized the President to “detail from
the Army all the officers and agents of this Bureau” [for
the Relief of Freedmen and Refugees];[128] also, by Act of
July 28, 1866, to “detail” officers of the Army, not exceeding
twenty at any time, “to act as president, superintendent,
or professor” in certain colleges.[129] And then
again, by Act of July 15, 1870, it provided that “any
retired officer may, on his own application, be detailed
to serve as professor in any college.”[130] As there is no
other statute authorizing details, this exceptional transfer
of Army officers to the Executive Mansion can be
maintained only on some undefined prerogative.
The Presidential pretension, which is continued to
the present time, is the more unnatural when it is considered
that there are at least three different statutes in
which Congress has shown its purpose to limit the employment
of military officers in civil service. As long
ago as July 5, 1838, it was positively provided that no
Army officers should be separated from their regiments
and corps “for employment on civil works of internal
improvement, or be allowed to engage in the service of
incorporated companies”; nor any line officer to be acting
paymaster or disbursing agent for the Indian Department,
“if such extra employment require that he be
separated from his regiment or company, or otherwise
interfere with the performance of the military duties
proper.”[131] Obviously the will of Congress is here declared,
that officers should not be allowed to leave their
posts for any service which might interfere with the performance
of the military duties proper. This language is
explicit. Then came the Act of March 30, 1868, which
provides that “any officer of the Army or Navy of the
United States, who shall, after the passage of this Act,
accept or hold any appointment in the diplomatic or
consular service of the Government, shall be considered
as having resigned his said office, and the place held by
him in the military or naval service shall be deemed
and taken to be vacant.”[132] To a considerate and circumspect
President, who recognized the law in its spirit as
well as its letter, this provision, especially when reinforced
by the earlier statute, would have been a rule of
action in analogous cases, and therefore an insurmountable
obstacle to a pretension which takes Army officers
from their proper duties and makes them Presidential
secretaries. A later statute adds to the obstacle. By
Act of Congress of July 15, 1870, it is provided:—
“That it shall not be lawful for any officer of the Army of
the United States on the active list to hold any civil office,
whether by election or appointment; and any such officer accepting
or exercising the functions of a civil office shall at once
cease to be an officer of the Army, and his commission shall
be vacated thereby.”[133]
It is difficult to imagine anything plainer than these
words. No Army officer not on the retired list can hold
any civil office; and then, to enforce the inhibition, it is
provided that in “accepting or exercising the functions”
of such office the commission is vacated. Now the Blue
Book, which is our political almanac, has under the
head of “Executive Mansion” a list of “secretaries” and
“clerks,” beginning as follows: “Secretaries, General F.
T. Dent, General Horace Porter, General O. E. Babcock,”
when, in fact, there are no such officers authorized by
law. Then follow the “Private Secretary,” “Assistant
Private Secretary,” and “Executive Clerks,” authorized
by law, but placed below those unauthorized. Nothing
is said of being detailed for this purpose. They are
openly called “Secretaries,” which is a title of office;
and since it is at the Executive Mansion, it must be a
civil office; and yet, in defiance of law, these Army officers
continue to exercise its functions, and some of them
enter the Senate with messages from the President. The
apology that they are “detailed” for this service is vain;
no authority can be shown for it. But how absurd to
suppose that a rule against the exercise of a civil office
can be evaded by a “detail”! If it may be done for
three Army officers, why not for three dozen? Nay,
more, if the civil office of Secretary at the Executive
Mansion may be created without law, why not some
other civil office? And what is to hinder the President
from surrounding himself not only with secretaries,
but with messengers, stewards, and personal attendants,
even a body-guard, all detailed from the Army?
Why may he not enlarge the military circle at the Executive
Mansion indefinitely? If the President can
be justified in his present course, there is no limit to
his pretensions in open violation of the statute. Here
the Blue Book testifies again; for it records the names
of the “secretaries” in their proper places as Army officers,—thus
presenting them as holding two incompatible
offices.
I dismiss this transaction as another instance of Presidential
pretension, which, in the interest of Republican
Government, should be arrested.
From the Executive Mansion pass now to the War
Department, and there we witness the same Presidential
pretensions by which law, usage, and correct principle
are lost in the will of One Man. The supremacy
of the civil power over the military is typified in the
Secretary of War, a civilian, from whom Army officers
receive orders. But this beautiful rule, with its lesson
to the military of subordination, was suddenly set aside
by our President, and the Secretary of War degraded to
be a clerk. The 5th of March witnessed a most important
order from the President, placing the Military Departments
under officers of his choice,—purporting to
be signed by the Assistant Adjutant-General by command
of the General of the Army, but actually ignoring
the Secretary of War.[134] Three days later, March 8th,
witnessed another order professing to proceed from the
President, whereby in express terms the War Department
was subordinated to the General-in-Chief, being
William T. Sherman, who at the time was promoted to
that command. Here are the words:
“The chiefs of staff corps, departments, and bureaus will
report to and act under the immediate orders of the General
commanding the Army.”[135]
This act of revolution, exalting the military power
above the civil, showed instant fruits in an order of the
General, who, upon assuming command, proceeded to
place the several bureau officers of the War Department
upon his military staff,[136] so that for the time there was a
military dictatorship with the President at its head, not
merely in spirit but in actual form. By-and-by John A.
Rawlins, a civilian by education and a respecter of the
Constitution, became Secretary of War, and, though
bound to the President by personal ties, he said, “Check
to the King.” By General Order, issued from the War
Department March 26, 1869, and signed by the Secretary
of War, the offensive order was rescinded, and it
was enjoined that “all official business which by law or
regulations requires the action of the President or Secretary
of War will be submitted by the chiefs of staff
corps, departments, and bureaus to the Secretary of
War.”[137] Public report said that this restoration of the
civil power to its rightful supremacy was not obtained
without an intimation of resignation on the part of the
Secretary.
Kindred in character was the unprecedented attempt
to devolve the duties of the Navy Department upon a
deputy, so that orders were to be signed “A. E. Borie,
Secretary of the Navy, per D. D. Porter, Admiral,” as
appears in the official journal of May 11, 1869,—or,
according to another instance, “David D. Porter, Vice-Admiral,
for the Secretary of the Navy.” The obvious
object of this illegal arrangement was to enable the incumbent,
who stood high on the list of gift-makers, to
be Secretary without being troubled with the business of
the office. Notoriously he was an invalid, unused to public
business, who, according to his own confession, modestly
pleaded that he could not apply himself to work
more than an hour a day; but the President soothed his
anxieties by promising a deputy who would do the work.
And thus was this great department made a plaything;
but public opinion and other counsels arrested the sport.
Here I mention, that, when this incumbent left his important
post, it is understood that he was allowed to
nominate his successor.
At the same time occurred the effort to absorb the
Indian Bureau into the War Department, changing its
character as part of the civil service. Congress had already
repudiated such an attempt;[138] but the President,
not disheartened by legislative failure, sought to accomplish
it by manipulation and indirection. First elevating
a member of his late staff to the head of the Bureau,
he then, by a military order dated May 7, 1869,[139] proceeded
to detail for the Indian service a long list of
“officers left out of their regimental organizations by
the consolidation of the infantry regiments,”—assuming
to do this by authority of the Act of Congress of
June 30, 1834, which, after declaring the number of Indian
agents, and how they shall be appointed, provides
that “it shall be competent for the President to require
any military officer of the United States to execute the
duties of Indian agent.”[140] Obviously this provision had
reference to some exceptional exigency, and can be no
authority for the general substitution of military officers,
instead of civilians confirmed by the Senate and bound
with sureties for the faithful discharge of their duties.
And yet upward of sixty Army officers were in this way
foisted into the Indian service. The Act of Congress of
July 15, 1870, already quoted,[141] creating an incompatibility
between military and civil service, was aimed
partly at this abuse, and these officers ceased to be Indian
agents. But this attempt is another illustration
of Presidential pretension.
Then followed military interference in elections, and
the repeated use of the military in aid of the revenue
law under circumstances of doubtful legality, until at
last General Halleck and General Sherman protested:
the former in his report of October 24, 1870, saying, “I
respectfully repeat the recommendation of my last Annual
Report, that military officers should not interfere in
local civil difficulties, unless called out in the manner
provided by law;”[142] and the latter, in his Report of November
10, 1870, “I think the soldiers ought not to be
expected to make individual arrests, or to do any act of
violence, except in their organized capacity as a posse
comitatus duly summoned by the United States marshal,
and acting in his personal presence.”[143] And so this military
pretension, invading civil affairs, was arrested.
Meanwhile this same Presidential usurpation, subordinating
all to himself, became palpable in another form.
It was said of Gustavus Adolphus, that he drilled his
Diet to vote at the word of command. Such at the outset
seemed to be the Presidential policy with regard to
Congress. We were to vote as he desired. He did not
like the Tenure-of-Office Act, and during the first month
of his administration his influence was felt in both
branches of Congress to secure its repeal; all of which
seemed more astonishing when it was considered that
he entered upon his high trust with the ostentatious
avowal that all laws would be faithfully executed, whether
they met his approval or not, and that he should
have no policy to enforce against the will of the people.[144]
That beneficent statute, which he had upheld in the
impeachment of President Johnson, was a limitation on
the Presidential power of appointment, and he could not
brook it. Here was plain interference with his great
perquisite of office, and Congress must be coerced to
repeal it. The House acted promptly and passed the
desired bill. In the Senate there was delay and a
protracted debate, during which the official journal
announced: “The President, in conversation with a
prominent Senator a few days since, declared that it
was his intention not to send in any nominations of
importance until definite action was taken by Congress
upon the Tenure-of-Office Bill.”[145]
Here I venture to add, that a member of the Cabinet
pressed me to withdraw my opposition to the repeal,
saying that the President felt strongly upon it. I could
not understand how a Republican President could consent
to weaken the limitations upon the Executive, and
so I said,—adding, that in my judgment he should
rather reach forth his hands and ask to have them tied.
Better always a government of law than of men.
In this tyrannical spirit, and in the assumption of
his central imperialism, he has interfered with political
questions and party movements in distant States,
reaching into Missouri, and then into New York, to dictate
how the people should vote, then manipulating
Louisiana through a brother-in-law appointed Collector.
With him a custom-house seems less a place for the collection
of revenue than an engine of political influence,
through which his dictatorship may be maintained.
Authentic testimony places this tyrannical abuse beyond
question. New York is the scene, and Thomas
Murphy, Collector, the Presidential lieutenant. Nobody
doubts the intimacy between the President and the Collector,
who are bound in friendship by other ties than
those of seaside neighborhood. The Collector was determined
to obtain the control of the Republican State
Convention, and appealed to a patriot citizen for help,
who replied, that in his judgment “it would be a delicate
matter for office-holders to undertake to dictate to
the associations in the different districts who should go
from them to the State Convention, and still more delicate
to attempt to control the judgments of men employed
in the different departments as to the best men
to represent them.” The brave Collector lieutenant of
the President said, “that he should not hesitate to do
it; that it was General Grant’s wish, and General Grant
was the head of the Republican Party, and should be
authority on this subject.”[146] Plainly, the Republican
Party was his perquisite, and all Republicans were to do
his bidding. From other testimony it appears that the
President, according to the statement of his lieutenant,
“wanted to be represented in the Convention,” being the
Republican State Convention of New York,—“wanted
to have his friends there in the Convention”; and the
Presidential lieutenant, being none other than the famous
Collector, offered to appoint four men in the custom-house
for the witness, if he would secure the nomination
of certain persons as delegates from his district,
and he promised “that he would immediately send their
names on to Washington and have them appointed.”[147]
And so the Presidential dictatorship was administered.
Offices in the custom-house were openly bartered for
votes in the State Convention. Here was intolerable
tyranny, with demoralization like that of the slave-market.
But New York is not the only scene of this outrage.
The Presidential pretension extends everywhere; nor is
it easy to measure the arrogance of corruption or the
honest indignation it quickens into life.
These Presidential pretensions, in all their variety,
personal and military, with reckless indifference to law,
naturally ripened in the contrivance, nursed in hot-house
secrecy, against the peace of the island of San Domingo:
I say deliberately, against the peace of that island, for
under the guise of annexing a portion there was menace
to the Black Republic of Hayti. This whole business,
absolutely indefensible from beginning to end, being
wrong at every point, is the special and most characteristic
product of the Administration, into which it infused
and projected itself more than into anything else.
In this multiform disobedience we behold our President.
Already I have referred to this contrivance as marking an
epoch in Presidential pretensions. It is my duty now to
show its true character as a warning against its author.
A few weeks only after beginning his career as a civilian,
and while occupied with military usurpations and
the perquisites of office, he was tempted by overtures of
Dominican plotters, headed by the usurper Baez and the
speculator Cazneau: the first an adventurer, conspirator,
and trickster, described by one who knows him well
as “the worst man living of whom he has any personal
knowledge”;[148] and the second, one of our own countrymen,
long resident on the island, known as disloyal
throughout the war, and entirely kindred in character
to Baez. Listening to these prompters, and without one
word in Congress or in the press suggesting annexion of
the island or any part of it, the President began his contrivance;
and here we see abuse in every form and at
every step, absolutely without precedent in our history.
The agent in this transaction was Orville E. Babcock,
a young officer figuring in the Blue Book of the time as
one of the unauthorized “secretaries” at the Executive
Mansion, and also as a major of engineers. His published
instructions, under date of July 13, 1869, were
simply to make inquiries; but the plot appears in a
communication of the same date from the Secretary of
the Navy, directed to the Seminole, a war-ship, with an
armament of one eleven-inch gun and four thirty-two
pounders, “to give him the moral support of its guns”;
and this was followed by a telegraphic instruction to
Key West for another war-ship “to proceed without a
moment’s delay to San Domingo City, to be placed at
the disposal of General Babcock while on that coast.”[149]
With such “moral support” the emissary of the President
obtained from the usurper Baez that famous Protocol
stipulating the annexion of Dominica to the United
States in consideration of $1,500,000, which the young
officer, fresh from the Executive Mansion, professed to
execute as “Aide-de-Camp to his Excellency General
Ulysses S. Grant, President of the United States,”—as
if, instead of Chief Magistrate of a Republic, the President
were a military chieftain with his foot in the stirrup,
surrounded by a military staff. The same instrument
contained the unblushing stipulation, that “his
Excellency General Grant, President of the United
States, promises, privately, to use all his influence, in
order that the idea of annexing the Dominican Republic
to the United States may acquire such a degree of popularity
among members of Congress as will be necessary
for its accomplishment”:[150] which is simply that the
President shall become a lobbyist to bring about the annexion
by Congress. Such was the strange beginning,
illegal, unconstitutional, and offensive in every particular,
but showing the Presidential character.
On his return to Washington, the young officer, who
had assumed to be “Aide-de-Camp to his Excellency
General Ulysses S. Grant,” and had bound the President
to become a lobbyist for a wretched scheme, instead of
being disowned and reprimanded, was sent back to the
usurper with instructions to negotiate two treaties,—one
for the annexion of the half-island of Dominica, and
the other for the lease of the Bay of Samana.[151] By the
Constitution of the United States “ambassadors and
other public ministers” are appointed by the President
by and with the advice and consent of the Senate; but
our Aide-de-Camp had no such commission. Presidential
prerogative empowered him. Nor was naval force
wanting. With three war-ships at his disposal,[152] he concluded
negotiations with Baez and obtained the two treaties.
Naturally force was needed to keep the usurper
in power while he sold his country, and naturally such
a transaction required a Presidential Aide-de-Camp unknown
to Constitution or Law, rather than a civilian
duly appointed according to both.
On other occasions it has been my solemn duty to
expose the outrages which attended this hateful business,
where at each step we are brought face to face with
Presidential pretension: first, in the open seizure of the
war powers of the Government, as if he were already
Cæsar, forcibly intervening in Dominica and menacing
war to Hayti, all of which is proved by the official reports
of the State Department and Navy Department,
being nothing less than war by kingly prerogative, in defiance
of that distinctive principle of Republican Government,
first embodied in our Constitution, which places
the war powers under the safeguard of the legislative
branch, making any attempt by the President “to declare
war” an undoubted usurpation. But our President, like
Gallio, cares for none of these things. The open violation
of the Constitution was naturally followed by a
barefaced disregard of that equality of nations which is
the first principle of International Law, as the equality
of men is the first principle of the Declaration of
Independence; and this sacred rule was set aside in order
to insult and menace Hayti, doing unto the Black
Republic what we would not have that Republic do
unto us, nor what we would have done to any white
power. To these eminent and most painful Presidential
pretensions, the first adverse to the Constitution and the
second adverse to International Law, add the imprisonment
of an American citizen in Dominica by the Presidential
confederate, Baez, for fear of his hostility to the
treaty, if he were allowed to reach New York,—all of
which was known to his subordinates, Babcock and Cazneau,
and doubtless to himself. What was the liberty
of an American citizen compared with the Presidential
prerogative? To one who had defied the Constitution,
on which depends the liberty of all, and then defied International
Law, on which depends the peace of the
world, a single citizen immured in a distant dungeon
was of small moment. But this is only an illustration.
Add now the lawless occupation of the Bay of Samana for
many months after the lapse of the treaty, keeping the
national flag flying there, and assuming a territorial sovereignty
which did not exist. Then add the protracted
support of Baez in his usurped power, to the extent of
placing the national flag at his disposal, and girdling the
island with our ships of war, all at immense cost, and to
the neglect of other service where the Navy was needed.
This strange succession of acts, which, if established
for a precedent, would overturn Constitution and Law,
was followed by another class of Presidential manifestations:
first, an unseemly importunity of Senators during
the pendency of the treaty, visiting the Capitol as a lobbyist,
and summoning them to his presence in squads,
in obvious pursuance of the stipulation made by his
Aide-de-Camp and never disowned by him,—being intervention
in the Senate, reinforced by all the influence
of the appointing power, whether by reward or menace,
all of which was as unconstitutional in character as that
warlike intervention on the island; and then, after debate
in the Senate, when the treaty was lost on solemn
vote, we were called to witness his self-willed effrontery
in prosecuting the fatal error, returning to the charge in
his Annual Message at the ensuing session, insisting
upon his contrivance as nothing less than the means by
which “our large debt abroad is ultimately to be extinguished,”
and gravely charging the Senate with “folly”
in rejecting the treaty,—and yet, while making this astounding
charge against a coördinate branch of Government,
and claiming such astounding profits, he blundered
geographically in describing the prize.[153]
All this diversified performance, with its various eccentricity
of effort, failed. The report of able commissioners
transported to the island in an expensive war-ship
ended in nothing. The American people rose
against the undertaking and insisted upon its abandonment.
By a message charged with Parthian shafts the
President at length announced that he would proceed
no further in this business.[154] His senatorial partisans,
being a majority of the Chamber, after denouncing those
who had exposed the business, arrested the discussion.
In obedience to irrepressible sentiments, and according
to the logic of my life, I felt it my duty to speak; but
the President would not forgive me, and his peculiar
representatives found me disloyal to the party which
I had served so long and helped to found. Then was
devotion to the President made the shibboleth of party.
Such is a summary of the San Domingo business in
its characteristic features. But here are transgressions
in every form,—open violation of the Constitution in
more than one essential requirement; open violation of
International Law in more than one of its most beautiful
principles; flagrant insult to the Black Republic,
with menace of war; complicity with the wrongful imprisonment
of an American citizen; lawless assumption
of territorial sovereignty in a foreign jurisdiction; employment
of the national navy to sustain a usurper,—being
all acts of substance, maintained by an agent calling
himself “Aide-de-Camp to Ulysses S. Grant, President
of the United States,” and stipulating that his chief
should play the lobbyist to help the contrivance through
Congress, then urged by private appeals to Senators, and
the influence of the appointing power tyrannically employed
by the Presidential lobbyist, and finally urged
anew in an Annual Message, where undisguised insult
to the Senate vies with absurdity in declaring prospective
profits and with geographical ignorance. Such, in
brief, is this multiform disobedience, where every particular
is of such aggravation as to merit the most solemn
judgment. Why the grand inquest of the nation,
which brought Andrew Johnson to the bar of the Senate,
should have slept on this conglomerate misdemeanor,
every part of which was offensive beyond any technical
offence charged against his predecessor, while it had
a background of nepotism, gift-taking with official compensation,
and various Presidential pretensions beyond
all precedent,—all this will be one of the riddles of
American history, to be explained only by the extent
to which the One-Man Power had succeeded in subjugating
the Government.
Let me confess, Sir, that, while at each stage I have
felt this tyranny most keenly, and never doubted that it
ought to be arrested by impeachment, my feelings have
been most stirred by the outrage to Hayti, which, besides
being a wrong to the Black Republic, was an insult
to the colored race, not only abroad, but here at
home. How a Chief Magistrate with four millions of
colored fellow-citizens could have done this thing passes
comprehension. Did he suppose it would not be known?
Did he imagine it could be hushed in official pigeonholes?
Or was he insensible to the true character of
his own conduct? The facts are indisputable. For
more than two generations Hayti had been independent,
entitled under International Law to equality among nations,
and since Emancipation in our country commended
to us as an example of self-government, being the first
in the history of the African race and the promise of the
future. And yet our President, in his effort to secure
that Naboth’s Vineyard on which he had set his eyes,
not content with maintaining the usurper Baez in power,
occupying the harbors of Dominica with war-ships, sent
other war-ships, being none other than our most powerful
monitor, the Dictator, with the frigate Severn as consort,
and with yet other monitors in their train, to strike at
the independence of the Black Republic, and to menace
it with war. Do I err in any way, am I not entirely
right, when I say that here was unpardonable outrage to
the African race? As one who for years has stood by
the side of this much-oppressed people, sympathizing
always in their woes and struggling for them, I felt
the blow which the President dealt, and it became the
more intolerable from the heartless attempts to defend
it. Alas, that our President should be willing to wield
the giant strength of the Great Republic in trampling
upon the representative government of the African race!
Alas, that he did not see the infinite debt of friendship,
kindness, and protection due to that people, so that instead
of monitors and war-ships, breathing violence, he
had sent a messenger of peace and good-will!
This outrage was followed by an incident in which
the same sentiments were revealed. Frederick Douglass,
remarkable for his intelligence as for his eloquence,
and always agreeable in personal relations, whose only
offence is a skin not entirely Caucasian, was selected by
the President to accompany the Commissioners to San
Domingo,—and yet on his return, and almost within sight
of the Executive Mansion, he was repelled from the common
table of the mail-steamer on the Potomac, where
his companions were already seated; and thus through
him was the African race insulted and their equal rights
denied. But the President, whose commission he had
borne, neither did nor said anything to right this wrong,
and a few days later, when entertaining the Commissioners
at the Executive Mansion, actually forgot the
colored orator whose services he had sought.[155] But this
indignity is in unison with the rest. After insulting
the Black Republic, it is easy to see how natural it was
to treat with insensibility the representative of the
African race.
Here I stay this painful catalogue in its various
heads, beginning with nepotism and gift-taking with repayment
by office, and ending in the contrivance against
San Domingo with indignity to the African race,—not
because it is complete, but because it is enough. With
sorrow unspeakable have I made this exposure of pretensions,
which, for the sake of republican institutions,
every good citizen should wish expunged from history;
but I had no alternative. The President himself insists
upon putting them in issue; he will not allow them to
be forgotten. As a candidate for reëlection he invites
judgment, while partisans acting in his behalf make it
absolutely necessary by the brutality of their assault on
faithful Republicans unwilling to see their party, like
the Presidential office, a personal perquisite. If his partisans
are exacting, vindictive, and unjust, they act only
in harmony with his nature, too truly represented in
them. There is not a ring, whether military or senatorial,
that does not derive its distinctive character from
himself. Therefore, what they do and what they say
must be considered as done and said by the chieftain
they serve. And here is a new manifestation of that
sovereign egotism which no taciturnity can cover up,
and a new motive for inquiry into its pernicious influence.
Any presentment of the President would be imperfect
which did not show how this ungovernable personality
breaks forth in quarrel, making him the great Presidential
quarreller of our history. As in nepotism,
gift-taking with repayment by office, and Presidential
pretensions generally, here again he is foremost, having
quarrelled not only more than any other President, but
more than all others together, from George Washington
to himself. His own Cabinet, the Senate, the House of
Representatives, the diplomatic service, and the civil
service generally, all have their victims, nearly every
one of whom, besides serving the Republican Party, had
helped to make him President. Nor have Army officers,
his companions in the field, or even his generous
patrons, been exempt. To him a quarrel is not only a
constant necessity, but a perquisite of office. To nurse
a quarrel, like tending a horse, is in his list of Presidential
duties. How idle must he be, should the words of
Shakespeare be fulfilled, “This day all quarrels die”![156]
To him may be applied those other words of Shakespeare,
“As quarrellous as the weasel.”[157]
Evidently our President has never read the Eleventh
Commandment: “A President of the United States shall
never quarrel.” At least he lives in perpetual violation
of it, listening to stories from horse-cars, gobbling the
gossip of his military ring, discoursing on imaginary
griefs, and nursing an unjust anger. The elect of forty
millions of people has no right to quarrel with anybody.
His position is too exalted. He cannot do it without
offence to the requirements of patriotism, without a
shock to the decencies of life, without a jar to the harmony
of the universe. If lesson were needed for his
conduct, he might find it in that king of France who on
ascending the throne made haste to declare that he did
not remember injuries received as Dauphin.[158] Perhaps a
better model still would be Tancred, the acknowledged
type of the perfect Christian knight, who “disdained to
speak ill of whoever it might be, even when ill had been
spoken of himself.”[159] Our soldier President could not
err in following this knightly example. If this were too
much, then at least might we hope that he would consent
to limit the sphere of his quarrelsome operations so
that the public service might not be disturbed. Of this
be assured,—in every quarrel he is the offender, according
to the fact, as according to every reasonable presumption;
especially is he responsible for its continuance.
The President can always choose his relations with any
citizen. But he chooses discord. With the arrogance
of arms he resents any impediment in his path,—as
when, in the spring of 1870, without allusion to himself,
I felt it my duty to oppose his San Domingo contrivance.
The verse of Juvenal, as translated by Dryden,
describes his conduct:—
“Poor me he fights,—if that be fighting where
He only cudgels and I only bear.
…
Answer or answer not, ’tis all the same,
He lays me on and makes me bear the blame.”
[160]
Another scholarly translator gives to this description of
the Presidential quarrel another form, which is also applicable:—
“If that be deemed a quarrel, where, Heaven knows,
He only gives and I receive the blows;
Across my path he strides and bids me Stand!—
I bow obsequious to the dread command.”
[161]
If the latter verse is not entirely true in my case, something
must be pardoned to that Liberty in which I was
born.
Men take their places in history according to their
deeds. The flattery of life is then superseded by the
truthful record, and rulers do not escape judgment.
Louis the Tenth of France has the designation of Le
Hutin, or “The Quarreller,” by which he is known in
the long line of French kings. And so in the long line
of American Chief-Magistrates has our President vindicated
for himself the same title. He must wear it. The
French monarch was younger than our President; but
there are other points in his life which are not without
parallel. According to a contemporary chronicle, he
was “well disposed, but not very attentive to the needs
of the kingdom”;[162] and then again it was his rare fortune
to sign one of the greatest ordinances of French
history, declaring that “according to the Law of Nature
every one must be born free”;[163] but the Quarreller was
in no respect author of this illustrious act, and was
moved to its adoption by considerations of personal advantage.
It will be for impartial History to determine
if our Quarreller, who treated his great office as a personal
perquisite, and all his life long was against that
Enfranchisement to which he put his name, does not fall
into the same category.
And now the question of Duty is distinctly presented
to the Republican Party. I like that word. It is at
the mandate of Duty that we must act. Do the Presidential
pretensions merit the sanction of the party?
Can Republicans, without departing from all obligations,
whether of party or patriotism, recognize our ambitious
Cæsar as a proper representative? Can we take
the fearful responsibility of his prolonged empire? I
put these questions solemnly, as a member of the Republican
Party, with all the earnestness of a life devoted to
the triumph of this party, but which I served always
with the conviction that I gave up nothing that was
meant for country or mankind. With me, the party
was country and mankind; but with the adoption of all
these Presidential pretensions the party loses its distinctive
character and drops from its sphere. Its creed
ceases to be Republicanism and becomes Grantism; its
members cease to be Republicans and become Grant-men.
It is no longer a political party, but a personal
party. For myself, I say openly, I am no man’s man,
nor do I belong to any personal party.
The attempt to change the character of the Republican
Party begins by assault on the principle of One
Term for President. Therefore must our support of this
requirement be made manifest; and here we have the
testimony of our President, and what is stronger, his example,
showing the necessity of such limitation. Authentic
report attests that before his nomination he declared
that “the liberties of the country cannot be maintained
without a One-Term Amendment of the Constitution.”
At this time Mr. Wade was pressing this very
Amendment. Then after his nomination, and while his
election was pending, the organ of the Republican Party
at Washington, where he resided, commended him constantly
as faithful to the principle. The “Morning
Chronicle” of June 3, 1868, after the canvass had commenced,
proclaimed of the candidate,—
“He is, moreover, an advocate of the One-Term principle,
as conducing toward the proper administration of the law,—a
principle with which so many prominent Republicans have
identified themselves that it may be accepted as an article of
party faith.”
Then again, July 14th, the same organ insisted,—
“Let not Congress adjourn without passing the One-Term
Amendment to the Constitution. There has never been so favorable
an opportunity. All parties are in favor of it.…
General Grant is in favor of it. The party which supports
General Grant demands it; and above all else public morality
calls for it.”
Considering that these pledges were made by an organ
of the party, and in his very presence, they may be
accepted as proceeding from him. His name must be
added to the list with Andrew Jackson, William Henry
Harrison, Henry Clay, and Benjamin F. Wade, all of
whom are enrolled against the reëligibility of a President.
But his example as President is more than his testimony
in showing the necessity of this limitation. Andrew
Jackson did not hesitate to say that it was required
in order to place the President “beyond the reach of
any improper influences,” and “uncommitted to any
other course than the strict line of constitutional duty.”[164]
William Henry Harrison followed in declaring that with
the adoption of this principle “the incumbent would devote
all his time to the public interest, and there would
be no cause to misrule the country.”[165] Henry Clay was
satisfied, after much observation and reflection, “that too
much of the time, the thoughts, and the exertions of the
incumbent are occupied during his first term in securing
his reëlection.”[166] Benjamin F. Wade, after denouncing
the reëligibility of the President, said: “There are defects
in the Constitution, and this is among the most
glaring.”[167]
And now our President by his example, besides his
testimony, vindicates all these authorities. He makes
us see how all that has been predicted of Presidents
seeking reëlection is fulfilled: how this desire dominates
official conduct; how naturally the resources of the
Government are employed to serve a personal purpose;
how the national interests are subordinate to individual
advancement; how all questions, foreign or domestic,
whether of treaties or laws, are handled with a view to
electoral votes; how the appointing power lends itself
to a selfish will, acting now by the temptation of office
and then by the menace of removal; and, since every
office-holder and every office-seeker has a brevet commission
in the predominant political party, how the
President, desiring reëlection, becomes the active head
of three coöperating armies,—the army of office-holders,
eighty thousand strong, the larger army of office-seekers,
and the army of the political party, the whole constituting
a consolidated power which no candidate can possess
without peril to his country. Of these vast coöperating
armies the President is commander-in-chief and
generalissimo. Through these he holds in submission
even Representatives and Senators, and makes the country
his vassal with a condition not unlike that of martial
law, where the disobedient are shot, while the various
rings help secure the prize. That this is not too
strong appears from testimony before a Senate Committee,
where a Presidential lieutenant boldly denounced
an eminent New York citizen, who was a prominent
candidate for Governor, as “obnoxious to General Grant,”—and
then, with an effrontery like the Presidential pretension,
announced that “President Grant was the representative
and head of the Republican Party, and all
good Republicans should support him in all his measures
and appointments, and any one who did not do it
should be crushed out.”[168] Such things teach how wise
were those statesmen who would not subject the President
to the temptation or even the suspicion of using
his vast powers in promoting personal ends.
Unquestionably the One-Man Power has increased
latterly beyond example,—owing partly to the greater
facilities of intercourse, especially by telegraph, so that
the whole country is easily reached,—partly to improvements
in organization, by which distant places
are brought into unity,—and partly through the protracted
prevalence of the military spirit created by the
war. There was a time in English history when the
House of Commons, on the motion of the famous lawyer
Mr. Dunning, adopted the resolution, “That the influence
of the Crown has increased, is increasing, and ought
to be diminished.”[169] The same declaration is needed
with regard to the President; and the very words of the
Parliamentary patriot may be repeated. In his memorable
speech, Mr. Dunning, after saying that he did not
rest “upon proof idle to require,” declared that the question
“must be decided by the consciences of those who
as a jury were called upon to determine what was or
was not within their own knowledge.”[170] It was on
ground of notoriety cognizable to all that he acted.
And precisely on this ground, but also with specific
proofs, do I insist that the influence of the President
has increased, is increasing, and ought to be diminished.
But in this excellent work, well worthy the best efforts
of all, nothing is more important than the limitation to
one term.
There is a demand for reform in the civil service, and
the President formally adopts this demand; but he
neglects the first step, which depends only on himself.
From this we may judge his little earnestness in the
cause. Beyond all question Civil-Service Reform must
begin by a limitation of the President to one term, so
that the temptation to use the appointing power for
personal ends may disappear from our system, and this
great disturbing force cease to exist. If the President
is sincere for reform, it will be easy for him to set the
example by declaring again his adhesion to the One-Term
principle. But even if he fails, we must do our
duty.
Therefore, in opposing the prolonged power of the
present incumbent, I begin by insisting, that, for the
good of the country, and without reference to any personal
failure, no President should be a candidate for
reëlection; and it is our duty now to set an example
worthy of republican institutions. In the name of the
One-Term principle, once recognized by him, and which
needs no other evidence of its necessity than his own
Presidency, I protest against his attempt to obtain
another lease of power. But this protest is on the
threshold.
I protest against him as radically unfit for the Presidential
office, being essentially military in nature, without
experience in civil life, without aptitude for civil
duties, and without knowledge of republican institutions,—all
of which is perfectly apparent, unless we
are ready to assume that the matters and things set
forth to-day are of no account, and then, in further support
of the candidate, boldly declare that nepotism in a
President is nothing, that gift-taking with repayment in
official patronage is nothing, that violation of the Constitution
and of International and Municipal Law is
nothing, that indignity to the African race is nothing,
that quarrel with political associates is nothing, and
that all his Presidential pretensions in their motley aggregation,
being a new Cæsarism or personal government,
are nothing. But if these are all nothing, then is
the Republican Party nothing, nor is there any safeguard
for Republican Institutions.
Two apologies I hear. The first is that he means
well, and errs from want of knowledge. This is not
much. It was said of Louis the Quarreller, that he
meant well; nor is there a slate head-stone in any village
burial-ground that does not record as much of the
humble lodger beneath. Something more is needed for
a President. Nor can we afford to perpetuate power in
a ruler who errs so much from ignorance. Charity for
the past I concede, but no investiture for the future.
The other apology is, that his Presidency has been
successful. How? When? Where? Not to him can
be attributed that general prosperity which is the natural
outgrowth of our people and country; for his contribution
is not traced in the abounding result. Our golden fields,
productive mines, busy industry, diversified commerce,
owe nothing to him. Show, then, his success. Is it in
the finances? The national debt has been reduced, but
not to so large an amount as by Andrew Johnson in the
same space of time. Little merit is due to either, for
each employed the means allowed by Congress. To the
American people is this reduction due, and not to any
President. And while our President in this respect is
no better than his predecessor, he can claim no merit
for any systematic effort to reduce taxation or restore
specie payments. Perhaps, then, it is in foreign relations
that he claims the laurels he is to wear. Knowing
something of these from careful study and years of practical
acquaintance, I am bound to say that never before
has their management been so wanting in ability and so
absolutely without character. With so much pretension
and so little knowledge, how could it be otherwise?
Here the President touches nothing which he does not
muddle. In every direction is muddle,—muddle with
Spain, muddle with Cuba, muddle with the Black Republic,
muddle with distant Corea, muddle with Venezuela,
muddle with Russia, muddle with England,—on
all sides one diversified muddle. If there is not
muddle with Germany and France, it must be from
their forbearance. To this condition are we reduced.
When before in our history have we reached any such
bathos as that to which we have been carried in our
questions with England? Are these the laurels for a
Presidential candidate?
But where else shall we look for them? Are
they found on the Indian frontier? Let the cry of
massacre and blood from that distant region answer.
Are they in reform of the civil service? But here the
initial point is the limitation of the President to one
term, so that he may be placed above temptation; yet
this he opposes. Evidently he is no true reformer.
Are these laurels found in the administration of the
Departments? Let the discreditable sale of arms to
France in violation of neutral duties and of municipal
statute be the answer; and let the custom-houses of
New York and New Orleans, with their tales of favoritism
and of nepotism, and with their prostitution as
agencies, mercenary and political, echo back the answer;
while senatorial committees, organized contrary to a cardinal
principle of Parliamentary Law as a cover to these
scandals, testify also. And again, let the War Department
recall the disappearance of important archives
bearing on an important event of the war, so that empty
boxes remain like a coffin without a corpse. Where,
then, are the laurels? At last I find them, fresh and
brilliant, in the harmony which the President has preserved
among Republicans. Harmony, do I say? This
should have been his congenial task; nor would any aid
or homage of mine have been wanting. But instead he
has organized discord, operating through a succession of
rings, and for laurels we find only weeds and thistles.
But I hear that he is successful in the States once
in rebellion. Strange that this should be said while
we are harrowed by the reports of Ku-Klux outrages.
Here, as in paying the national debt, Congress has been
the effective power. Even the last extraordinary measure
became necessary, in my judgment, to supplement
his little efficiency. Had the President put into the
protection of the colored people at the South half the
effort and earnest will with which he maintained his
San Domingo contrivance, the murderous Ku-Klux
would have been driven from the field and peace assured.
Nor has he ever exhibited to the colored people
any true sympathy. His conduct to Frederick Douglass
on his return from San Domingo is an illustration; and
so also was his answer to the committee of colored fellow-citizens
seeking his countenance for the pending
measure of Civil Rights. Some thought him indifferent;
others found him insulting. Then came his recent letter
to the great meeting at Washington, May 9, 1872,
called to assert these rights, where he could say nothing
more than this: “I beg to assure you, however, that I
sympathize most cordially in any effort to secure for all
our people, of whatever race, nativity, or color, the exercise
of those rights to which every citizen should be entitled.”[171]
Of course everybody is in favor of “the rights
to which every citizen should be entitled.” But what
are these rights? And this meaningless juggle of words,
entirely worthy of the days of Slavery, is all that is
vouchsafed by a Republican President for the equal
rights of his colored fellow-citizens.
I dismiss the apologies with the conclusion, that in
the matters to which they invite attention his Presidency
is an enormous failure.
Looking at his daily life as it becomes known through
the press or conversation, his chief employment seems
the dispensation of patronage, unless society is an employment.
For this he is visited daily by Senators and
Representatives bringing distant constituents. The Executive
Mansion has become that famous “Treasury
trough” described so well by an early Congressional
orator:—
“Such running, such jostling, such wriggling, such clambering
over one another’s backs, such squealing, because the
tub is so narrow and the company is so crowded.”[172]
To sit behind is the Presidential occupation, watching
and feeding the animals. If this were an amusement
only, it might be pardoned; but it must be seen in a
more serious light. Some nations are governed by the
sword,—in other words, by central force commanding
obedience. Our President governs by offices,—in other
words, by the appointing power, being a central force by
which he coerces obedience to his personal will. Let a
Senator or Representative hesitate in the support of his
autocracy, or doubt if he merits a second term, and forthwith
some distant consul or postmaster, appointed by
his influence, begins to tremble. The “Head Centre”
makes himself felt to the most distant circumference.
Can such tyranny, where the military spirit of our President
finds a congenial field, be permitted to endure?
In adopting him as a candidate for reëlection we undertake
to vindicate his Presidency, and adopt in all
things the insulting, incapable, aide-de-campish dictatorship
which he has inaugurated. Presenting his name,
we vouch for his fitness, not only in original nature, but
in experience of civil life, in aptitude for civil duties, in
knowledge of republican institutions, and elevation of
purpose; and we must be ready to defend openly what
he has openly done. Can Republicans honestly do this
thing? Let it be said that he is not only the greatest
nepotist among Presidents, but greater than all others
together, and what Republican can reply? Let it
be said that he is not only the greatest gift-taker
among Presidents, but the only one who repaid his
patrons at the public expense, and what Republican
can reply? Let it be said that he has openly violated
the Constitution and International Law, in the prosecution
of a wretched contrivance against the peace of San
Domingo, and what Republican can reply? Let it be
said, that, wielding the power of the Great Republic, he
has insulted the Black Republic with a menace of war,
involving indignity to the African Race, and what Republican
can reply? Let it be said that he has set up
Presidential pretensions without number, constituting
an undoubted Cæsarism or personal government, and
what Republican can reply? And let it be added, that,
unconscious of all this misrule, he quarrels without cause
even with political supporters, and on such a scale as to
become the greatest Presidential quarreller of our history,
quarrelling more than all other Presidents together,
and what Republican can reply? It will not be enough
to say that he was triumphant in war,—as Scipio, the
victor of Hannibal, reminded the Roman people that on
this day he conquered at Zama.[173] Others have been triumphant
in war and failed in civil life,—as Marlborough,
whose heroic victories seemed unaccountable, in
the frivolity, the ignorance, and the heartlessness of his
pretended statesmanship. To Washington was awarded
that rarest tribute, “First in war, first in peace, and first
in the hearts of his countrymen.”[174] Of our President it
will be said willingly, “first in war,” but the candid historian
will add, “first in nepotism, first in gift-taking
and repaying by official patronage, first in Presidential
pretensions, and first in quarrel with his countrymen.”
Anxiously, earnestly, the country asks for reform, and
stands tiptoe to greet the coming. But how expect reform
from a President who needs it so much himself?
Who shall reform the reformer? So also does the country
ask for purity. But is it not vain to seek this boon
from one whose Presidential pretensions are so demoralizing?
Who shall purify the purifier? The country
asks for reform in the civil service. But how expect
any such change from one who will not allow the Presidential
office to be secured against its worst temptation?
The country desires an example for the youth of the
land, where intelligence shall blend with character, and
both be elevated by a constant sense of duty with unselfish
devotion to the public weal. But how accord
this place to a President who makes his great office a
plaything and perquisite, while his highest industry is
in quarrelling? Since Sancho Panza at Barataria, no
Governor has provided so well for his relations at the
expense of his country; and if any other has made Cabinet
appointments the return for personal favors, his
name has dropped out of history. A man is known by
his acts; so also by the company he keeps. And is not
our President known by his intimacy with those who
are by-words of distrust? But all these by-words look
to another term for perpetuation of their power. Therefore,
for the sake of reform and purity, which are a longing
of the people, and also that the Chief Magistrate
may be an example, we must seek a remedy.
See for one moment how pernicious must be the Presidential
example. First in place, his personal influence
is far-reaching beyond that of any other citizen. What
he does others will do. What he fails to do others will
fail to do. His standard of conduct will be accepted at
least by his political supporters. His measure of industry
and his sense of duty will be the pattern for the
country. If he appoints relations to office and repays
gifts by official patronage, making his Presidency a great
“gift-enterprise,” may not every office-holder do likewise,
each in his sphere, so that nepotism and gift-taking
with official remuneration will be general, and gift-enterprises
be multiplied indefinitely in the public service?
If he treats his trust as plaything and perquisite, why
may not every office-holder do the same? If he disregards
Constitution and Law in the pursuit of personal
objects, how can we expect a just subordination from
others? If he sets up pretensions without number repugnant
to republican institutions, must not the good
cause suffer? If he is stubborn, obstinate, and perverse,
are not stubbornness, obstinacy, and perversity commended
for imitation? If he insults and wrongs associates
in official trust, who is safe from the malignant
influence having its propulsion from the Executive
Mansion? If he fraternizes with jobbers and Hessians,
where is the limit to the demoralization that must
ensue? Necessarily the public service takes its character
from its elected chief, and the whole country
reflects the President. His example is a law. But a
bad example must be corrected as a bad law.
To the Republican Party, devoted to ideas and principles,
I turn now with more than ordinary solicitude.
Not willingly can I see it sacrificed. Not without earnest
effort against the betrayal can I suffer its ideas and
principles to be lost in the personal pretensions of one
man. Both the old parties are in a crisis, with this difference
between the two: the Democracy is dissolving,
the Republican party is being absorbed; the Democracy
is falling apart, thus visibly losing its vital unity,—the
Republican Party is submitting to a personal influence,
thus visibly losing its vital character; the Democracy is
ceasing to exist, the Republican Party is losing its identity.
Let the process be completed, and it will be no
longer that Republican Party which I helped to found
and have always served, but only a personal party,—while
instead of those ideas and principles which we
have been so proud to uphold will be Presidential pretensions,
and instead of Republicanism there will be nothing
but Grantism.
Political parties are losing their sway. Higher than
party are country and the duty to save it from Cæsar.
The Caucus is at last understood as a political engine
moved by wire-pullers, and it becomes more insupportable
in proportion as directed to personal ends. Nor is
its character changed when called a National Convention.
Here, too, are wire-pullers; and when the great
Office-Holder and the great Office-Seeker are one and
the same, it is easy to see how naturally the engine responds
to the central touch. A political convention is
an agency and convenience, but never a law, least of all
a despotism; and when it seeks to impose a candidate
whose name is a synonym of pretensions unrepublican
in character and hostile to good government, it will be
for earnest Republicans to consider well how clearly
party is subordinate to country. Such a nomination
can have no just obligation. Therefore with unspeakable
interest will the country watch the National Convention
at Philadelphia. It may be an assembly (and
such is my hope) where ideas and principles are above
all personal pretensions, and the unity of the party is
symbolized in the candidate; or it may add another to
Presidential rings, being an expansion of the military
ring at the Executive Mansion, the senatorial ring in
this Chamber, and the political ring in the custom-houses
of New York and New Orleans. A National
Convention which is a Presidential ring cannot represent
the Republican Party.
Much rather would I see the party to which I am
dedicated, under the image of a life-boat not to be sunk
by wind or wave. How often have I said this to cheer
my comrades! I do not fear the Democratic Party.
Nothing from them can harm our life-boat. But I do
fear a quarrelsome pilot, unused to the sea, but pretentious
in command, who occupies himself in loading
aboard his own unserviceable relations and personal patrons,
while he drives away the experienced seamen
who know the craft and her voyage. Here is a peril
which no life-boat can stand.
Meanwhile I wait the determination of the National
Convention, where are delegates from my own much-honored
Commonwealth with whom I rejoice to act.
Not without anxiety do I wait, but with the earnest
hope that the Convention will bring the Republican
Party into ancient harmony, saving it especially from
the suicidal folly of an issue on the personal pretensions
of one man.