DELIVERED AT COOPER INSTITUTE, NEW YORK,
FEBRUARY 27, 1860
Mr. President and Fellow-Citizens of
New York:—The facts with which I shall deal
this evening are mainly old and familiar; nor is
there anything new in the general use I shall make
of them. If there shall be any novelty, it will be
in the mode of presenting the facts, and the inferences
and observations following that presentation.
In his speech last autumn at Columbus,
Ohio, as reported in the New York Times, Senator
Douglas said: “Our fathers, when they framed
the government under which we live, understood
this question just as well, and even better, than we
do now.”
I fully indorse this, and I adopt it as a text
for this discourse. I so adopt it because it furnishes
a precise and an agreed starting-point for
a discussion between Republicans and that wing
of the Democracy headed by Senator Douglas. It
simply leaves the inquiry: What was the understanding
those fathers had of the question mentioned?
What is the frame of government under which
we live? The answer must be, “The Constitution
of the United States.” That Constitution
consists of the original, framed in 1787, and under
which the present government first went into
operation, and twelve subsequently framed amendments,
the first ten of which were framed in 1789.
Who were our fathers that framed the Constitution?
I suppose the “thirty-nine” who
signed the original instrument may be fairly called
our fathers who framed that part of the present
government. It is almost exactly true to say they
framed it, and it is altogether true to say they
fairly represented the opinion and sentiment of
the whole nation at that time. Their names, being
familiar to nearly all, and accessible to quite
all, need not now be repeated.
I take these “thirty-nine,” for the present, as
being “our fathers who framed the government
under which we live.” What is the question
which, according to the text, those fathers understood
“just as well, and even better, than we do
now”?
It is this: Does the proper division of local
from Federal authority, or anything in the Constitution,
forbid our Federal Government to control
as to slavery in our Federal Territories?
Upon this, Senator Douglas holds the affirmative,
and Republicans the negative. This affirmation
and denial form an issue; and this issue—this
question—is precisely what the text declares
our fathers understood “better than we.”
Let us now inquire whether the “thirty-nine,” or
any of them, ever acted upon this question; and
if they did, how they acted upon it—how they expressed
that better understanding. In 1784, three
years before the Constitution, the United States
then owning the Northwestern Territory and no
other, the Congress of the Confederation had before
them the question of prohibiting slavery in
that Territory; and four of the “thirty-nine”
who afterward framed the Constitution were in
that Congress, and voted on that question. Of
these, Roger Sherman, Thomas Mifflin, and Hugh
Williamson voted for the prohibition, thus showing
that, in their understanding, no line dividing
local from Federal authority, nor anything else,
properly forbade the Federal Government to control
as to slavery in Federal territory. The other
of the four, James McHenry, voted against the
prohibition, showing that for some cause he
thought it improper to vote for it.
In 1787, still before the Constitution, but while
the convention was in session framing it, and while
the Northwestern Territory still was the only Territory
owned by the United States, the same question
of prohibiting slavery in the Territory again
came before the Congress of the Confederation;
and two more of the “thirty-nine” who afterward
signed the Constitution were in that Congress,
and voted on the question. They were William
Blount and William Few; and they both
voted for the prohibition—thus showing that in
their understanding no line dividing local from
Federal authority, nor anything else, properly
forbade the Federal Government to control as to
slavery in Federal territory. This time the prohibition
became a law, being part of what is now
well known as the ordinance of ’87.
The question of Federal control of slavery in
the Territories seems not to have been directly
before the convention which framed the original
Constitution; and hence it is not recorded that the
“thirty-nine” or any of them, while engaged on
that instrument, expressed any opinion on that
precise question.
In 1789, by the first Congress which sat under
the Constitution, an act was passed to enforce
the ordinance of ’87, including the prohibition of
slavery in the Northwestern Territory. The bill
for this act was reported by one of the “thirty-nine”—Thomas
Fitzsimmons, then a member of
the House of Representatives from Pennsylvania.
It went through all its stages without a word of
opposition, and finally passed both branches without
ayes and nays, which is equivalent to a unanimous
passage. In this Congress there were sixteen
of the thirty-nine fathers who framed the
original Constitution. They were John Langdon,
Nicholas Gilman, William S. Johnson, Roger
Sherman, Robert Morris, Thomas Fitzsimmons,
William Few, Abraham Baldwin, Rufus King,
William Paterson, George Clymer, Richard Bassett,
George Read, Pierce Butler, Daniel Carroll,
and James Madison.
This shows that, in their understanding, no line
dividing local from Federal authority, nor anything
in the Constitution, properly forbade Congress
to prohibit slavery in the Federal territory;
else both their fidelity to correct principle, and their
oath to support the Constitution, would have constrained
them to oppose the prohibition.
Again, George Washington, another of the
“thirty-nine,” was then President of the United
States, and as such approved and signed the bill,
thus completing its validity as a law, and thus
showing that, in his understanding, no line dividing
local from Federal authority, nor anything in
the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government
to control as to slavery in Federal territory.
No great while after the adoption of the original
Constitution, North Carolina ceded to the
Federal Government the country now constituting
the State of Tennessee; and a few years later
Georgia ceded that which now constitutes the
States of Mississippi and Alabama. In both deeds
of cession it was made a condition by the ceding
States that the Federal Government should not
prohibit slavery in the ceded country. Besides
this, slavery was then actually in the ceded country.
Under these circumstances, Congress, on
taking charge of these countries, did not absolutely
prohibit slavery within them. But they did
interfere with it—take control of it—even there,
to a certain extent. In 1798 Congress organized
the Territory of Mississippi. In the act of organization
they prohibited the bringing of slaves into
the Territory from any place without the United
States, by fine, and giving freedom to slaves so
brought. This act passed both branches of Congress
without yeas and nays. In that Congress
were three of the “thirty-nine” who framed the
original Constitution. They were John Langdon,
George Read, and Abraham Baldwin. They all
probably voted for it. Certainly they would have
placed their opposition to it upon record if, in
their understanding, any line dividing local from
Federal authority, or anything in the Constitution,
properly forbade the Federal Government to control
as to slavery in Federal territory.
In 1803 the Federal Government purchased the
Louisiana country. Our former territorial acquisitions
came from certain of our own States; but
this Louisiana country was acquired from a foreign
nation. In 1804 Congress gave a territorial
organization to that part of it which now constitutes
the State of Louisiana. New Orleans, lying
within that part, was an old and comparatively
large city. There were other considerable towns
and settlements, and slavery was extensively and
thoroughly intermingled with the people. Congress
did not, in the Territorial Act, prohibit slavery;
but they did interfere with it—take control of
it—in a more marked and extensive way than they
did in the case of Mississippi. The substance of
the provision therein made in relation to slaves
was:
1st. That no slave should be imported into the
Territory from foreign parts.
2d. That no slave should be carried into it who
had been imported into the United States since the
first day of May, 1798.
3d. That no slave should be carried into it,
except by the owner, and for his own use as a settler;
the penalty in all the cases being a fine upon
the violator of the law, and freedom to the slave.
This act also was passed without ayes or nays.
In the Congress which passed it there were two of
the “thirty-nine.” They were Abraham Baldwin
and Jonathan Dayton. As stated in the case of
Mississippi, it is probable they both voted for it.
They would not have allowed it to pass without
recording their opposition to it if, in their understanding,
it violated either the line properly dividing
local from Federal authority, or any provision
of the Constitution.
In 1819–20 came and passed the Missouri question.
Many votes were taken, by yeas and nays,
in both branches of Congress, upon the various
phases of the general question. Two of the
“thirty-nine”—Rufus King and Charles Pinckney—were
members of that Congress. Mr. King
steadily voted for slavery prohibition and against
all compromises, while Mr. Pinckney as steadily
voted against slavery prohibition and against all
compromises. By this, Mr. King showed that, in
his understanding, no line dividing local from Federal
authority, nor anything in the Constitution,
was violated by Congress prohibiting slavery in
Federal territory; while Mr. Pinckney, by his
votes, showed that, in his understanding, there
was some sufficient reason for opposing such prohibition
in that case.
The cases I have mentioned are the only acts
of the “thirty-nine,” or of any of them, upon
the direct issue, which I have been able to discover.
To enumerate the persons who thus acted as
being four in 1784, two in 1787, seventeen in
1789, three in 1798, two in 1804, and two in
1819–20, there would be thirty of them. But this
would be counting John Langdon, Roger Sherman,
William Few, Rufus King, and George Read
each twice, and Abraham Baldwin three times.
The true number of those of the “thirty-nine”
whom I have shown to have acted upon the question
which, by the text, they understood better
than we, is twenty-three, leaving sixteen not shown
to have acted upon it in any way.
Here, then, we have twenty-three out of our
thirty-nine fathers “who framed the government
under which we live,” who have, upon their official
responsibility and their corporal oaths, acted
upon the very question which the text affirms they
“understood just as well, and even better, than we
do now”; and twenty-one of them—a clear majority
of the whole “thirty-nine”—so acting upon
it as to make them guilty of gross political impropriety
and willful perjury if, in their understanding,
any proper division between local and Federal
authority, or anything in the Constitution
they had made themselves, and sworn to support,
forbade the Federal Government to control as to
slavery in the Federal Territories. Thus the
twenty-one acted; and, as actions speak louder
than words, so actions under such responsibility
speak still louder.
Two of the twenty-three voted against congressional
prohibition of slavery in the Federal Territories,
in the instances in which they acted upon
the question. But for what reasons they so voted
is not known. They may have done so because
they thought a proper division of local from Federal
authority, or some provision or principle of
the Constitution, stood in the way; or they may,
without any such question, have voted against the
prohibition on what appeared to them to be sufficient
grounds of expediency. No one who has
sworn to support the Constitution can conscientiously
vote for what he understands to be an unconstitutional
measure, however expedient he may
think it; but one may and ought to vote against
a measure which he deems constitutional if, at
the same time, he deems it inexpedient. It, therefore,
would be unsafe to set down even the two
who voted against the prohibition as having done
so because, in their understanding, any proper
division of local from Federal authority, or anything
in the Constitution, forbade the Federal
Government to control as to slavery in Federal
territory.
The remaining sixteen of the “thirty-nine,” so
far as I have discovered, have left no record of
their understanding upon the direct question of
Federal control of slavery in the Federal Territories.
But there is much reason to believe that
their understanding upon that question would not
have appeared different from that of their twenty-three
compeers, had it been manifested at all.
For the purpose of adhering rigidly to the text,
I have purposely omitted whatever understanding
may have been manifested by any person, however
distinguished, other than the thirty-nine fathers,
who framed the original Constitution; and, for
the same reason, I have also omitted whatever understanding
may have been manifested by any of
the “thirty-nine” even on any other phase of
the general question of slavery. If we should look
into their acts and declarations on those other
phases, as the foreign slave-trade, and the morality
and policy of slavery generally, it would appear
to us that on the direct question of Federal control
of slavery in Federal Territories, the sixteen,
if they had acted at all, would probably
have acted just as the twenty-three did. Among
that sixteen were several of the most noted anti-slavery
men of those times,—as Dr. Franklin,
Alexander Hamilton, and Gouverneur Morris,—while
there was not one now known to have been
otherwise, unless it may be John Rutledge, of
South Carolina.
The sum of the whole is, that of our thirty-nine
fathers who framed the original Constitution,
twenty-one—a clear majority of the whole—certainly
understood that no proper division of
local from Federal authority, nor any part of the
Constitution, forbade the Federal Government to
control slavery in the Federal Territories; while
all the rest had probably the same understanding.
Such, unquestionably, was the understanding of
our fathers who framed the original Constitution;
and the text affirms that they understood the question
“better than we.”
But, so far, I have been considering the understanding
of the question manifested by the framers
of the original Constitution. In and by the original
instrument, a mode was provided for amending
it; and, as I have already stated, the present
frame of “the government under which we live”
consists of that original, and twelve amendatory
articles framed and adopted since. Those who
now insist that Federal control of slavery in Federal
Territories violates the Constitution, point us
to the provisions which they suppose it thus violates;
and, as I understand, they all fix upon provisions
in these amendatory articles, and not in
the original instrument. The Supreme Court, in
the Dred Scott case, plant themselves upon the
fifth amendment, which provides that no person
shall be deprived of “life, liberty, or property
without due process of law”; while Senator Douglas
and his peculiar adherents plant themselves
upon the tenth amendment, providing that “the
powers not delegated to the United States by the
Constitution” “are reserved to the States respectively,
or to the people.”
Now, it so happens that these amendments were
framed by the first Congress which sat under the
Constitution—the identical Congress which passed
the act, already mentioned, enforcing the prohibition
of slavery in the Northwestern Territory.
Not only was it the same Congress, but they were
the identical, same individual men who, at the
same session, and at the same time within the session,
had under consideration, and in progress toward
maturity, these constitutional amendments,
and this act prohibiting slavery in all the territory
the nation then owned. The constitutional
amendments were introduced before, and passed
after, the act enforcing the ordinance of ’87; so
that, during the whole pendency of the act to enforce
the ordinance, the constitutional amendments
were also pending.
The seventy-six members of that Congress, including
sixteen of the framers of the original Constitution,
as before stated, were pre-eminently our
fathers who framed that part of “the government
under which we live” which is now claimed as forbidding
the Federal Government to control slavery
in the Federal Territories.
Is it not a little presumptuous in anyone at this
day to affirm that the two things which that Congress
deliberately framed and carried to maturity
at the same time, are absolutely inconsistent with
each other? And does not such affirmation become
impudently absurd when coupled with the
other affirmation from the same mouth, that those
who did the two things alleged to be inconsistent,
understood whether they really were inconsistent
better than we—better than he who affirms that
they are inconsistent?
It is surely safe to assume that the thirty-nine
framers of the original Constitution, and the seventy-six
members of the Congress which framed
the amendments thereto, taken together, do certainly
include those who may be fairly called “our
fathers who framed the government under which
we live.” And so assuming, I defy any man to
show that any one of them ever, in his whole life,
declared that, in his understanding, any proper
division of local from Federal authority, or any
part of the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government
to control as to slavery in the Federal
Territories. I go a step further. I defy anyone
to show that any living man in the whole world
ever did, prior to the beginning of the present century
(and I might almost say prior to the beginning
of the last half of the present century), declare
that, in his understanding, any proper division
of local from Federal authority, or any part
of the Constitution, forbade the Federal Government
to control as to slavery in the Federal Territories.
To those who now so declare I give not
only “our fathers who framed the government
under which we live,” but with them all other living
men within the century in which it was framed,
among whom to search, and they shall not be able
to find the evidence of a single man agreeing with
them.
Now, and here, let me guard a little against being
misunderstood. I do not mean to say we are
bound to follow implicitly in whatever our fathers
did. To do so would be to discard all the lights
of current experience—to reject all progress, all
improvement. What I do say is that, if we would
supplant the opinions and policy of our fathers in
any case, we should do so upon evidence so conclusive,
and argument so clear, that even their
great authority, fairly considered and weighed,
cannot stand; and most surely not in a case whereof
we ourselves declare they understood the question
better than we.
If any man at this day sincerely believes that
a proper division of local from Federal authority,
or any part of the Constitution, forbids the Federal
Government to control as to slavery in the
Federal Territories, he is right to say so, and to
enforce his position by all truthful evidence and
fair argument which he can. But he has no right
to mislead others, who have less access to history,
and less leisure to study it, into the false belief
that “our fathers who framed the government under
which we live” were of the same opinion—thus
substituting falsehood and deception for
truthful evidence and fair argument. If any man
at this day sincerely believes “our fathers who
framed the government under which we live” used
and applied principles, in other cases, which ought
to have led them to understand that a proper division
of local from Federal authority, or some part
of the Constitution, forbids the Federal Government
to control as to slavery in the Federal Territories,
he is right to say so. But he should, at
the same time, brave the responsibility of declaring
that, in his opinion, he understands their principles
better than they did themselves; and especially
should he not shirk that responsibility by
asserting that they “understood the question just
as well, and even better, than we do now.”
But enough! Let all who believe that “our fathers
who framed the government under which we
live understood this question just as well, and even
better, than we do now,” speak as they spoke, and
act as they acted upon it. This is all Republicans
ask—all Republicans desire—in relation to slavery.
As those fathers marked it, so let it be again
marked, as an evil not to be extended, but to be
tolerated and protected only because of and so far
as its actual presence among us makes that toleration
and protection a necessity. Let all the guarantees
those fathers gave it be not grudgingly, but
fully and fairly, maintained. For this Republicans
contend, and with this, so far as I know or believe,
they will be content.
And now, if they would listen,—as I suppose
they will not,—I would address a few words to
the Southern people.
I would say to them: You consider yourselves a
reasonable and a just people; and I consider that
in the general qualities of reason and justice you
are not inferior to any other people. Still, when
you speak of us Republicans, you do so only to
denounce us as reptiles, or, at the best, as no better
than outlaws. You will grant a hearing to
pirates or murderers, but nothing like it to “Black
Republicans.” In all your contentions with one
another, each of you deems an unconditional condemnation
of “Black Republicanism” as the first
thing to be attended to. Indeed, such condemnation
of us seems to be an indispensable prerequisite—license,
so to speak—among you to be admitted
or permitted to speak at all. Now can you or not
be prevailed upon to pause and to consider whether
this is quite just to us, or even to yourselves?
Bring forward your charges and specifications, and
then be patient long enough to hear us deny or
justify.
You say we are sectional. We deny it. That
makes an issue; and the burden of proof is upon
you. You produce your proof; and what is it?
Why, that our party has no existence in your section—gets
no votes in your section. The fact is
substantially true; but does it prove the issue? If
it does, then in case we should, without change of
principle, begin to get votes in your section, we
should thereby cease to be sectional. You cannot
escape this conclusion; and yet are you willing to
abide by it? If you are, you will probably soon
find that we have ceased to be sectional, for we
shall get votes in your section this very year. You
will then begin to discover, as the truth plainly is,
that your proof does not touch the issue. The
fact that we get no votes in your section is a fact of
your making, and not of ours. And if there be
fault in that fact, that fault is primarily yours,
and remains so until you show that we repel you
by some wrong principle or practice. If we do repel
you by any wrong principle or practice, the fault
is ours; but this brings you to where you ought to
have started—to a discussion of the right or
wrong of our principle. If our principle, put in
practice, would wrong your section for the benefit
of ours, or for any other object, then our principle,
and we with it, are sectional, and are justly opposed
and denounced as such. Meet us, then, on
the question of whether our principle, put in practice,
would wrong your section; and so meet us as
if it were possible that something may be said
on our side. Do you accept the challenge? No!
Then you really believe that the principle which
“our fathers who framed the government under
which we live” thought so clearly right as to
adopt it, and indorse it again and again, upon their
official oaths, is in fact so clearly wrong as to demand
your condemnation without a moment’s
consideration.
Some of you delight to flaunt in our faces the
warning against sectional parties given by Washington
in his Farewell Address. Less than eight
years before Washington gave that warning, he
had, as President of the United States, approved
and signed an act of Congress enforcing the prohibition
of slavery in the Northwestern Territory,
which act embodied the policy of the government
upon that subject up to and at the very moment
he penned that warning; and about one year after
he penned it, he wrote Lafayette that he considered
that prohibition a wise measure, expressing
in the same connection his hope that we should at
some time have a confederacy of free States.
Bearing this in mind, and seeing that sectionalism
has since arisen upon this same subject, is
that warning a weapon in your hands against us,
or in our hands against you? Could Washington
himself speak, would he cast the blame of that sectionalism
upon us, who sustain his policy, or upon
you, who repudiate it? We respect that warning
of Washington, and we commend it to you, together
with his example pointing to the right application
of it.
But you say you are conservative—eminently
conservative—while we are revolutionary, destructive,
or something of the sort. What is conservatism?
Is it not adherence to the old and
tried, against the new and untried? We stick to,
contend for, the identical old policy on the point
in controversy which was adopted by “our fathers
who framed the government under which
we live”; while you with one accord reject, and
scout, and spit upon that old policy, and insist
upon substituting something new. True, you disagree
among yourselves as to what that substitute
shall be. You are divided on new propositions
and plans, but you are unanimous in rejecting and
denouncing the old policy of the fathers. Some
of you are for reviving the foreign slave-trade;
some for a congressional slave code for the Territories;
some for Congress forbidding the Territories
to prohibit slavery within their limits; some
for maintaining slavery in the Territories through
the judiciary; some for the “gur-reat pur-rinciple”
that “if one man would enslave another, no third
man should object,” fantastically called “popular
sovereignty”; but never a man among you is in
favor of Federal prohibition of slavery in Federal
Territories, according to the practice of “our fathers
who framed the government under which we
live.” Not one of all your various plans can show
a precedent or an advocate in the century within
which our government originated. Consider, then,
whether your claim of conservatism for yourselves,
and your charge of destructiveness against us, are
based on the most clear and stable foundation.
Again, you say we have made the slavery question
more prominent than it formerly was. We
deny it. We admit that it is more prominent, but
we deny that we made it so. It was not we, but
you, who discarded the old policy of the fathers.
We resisted, and still resist, your innovation; and
thence comes the greater prominence of the question.
Would you have that question reduced to
its former proportions? Go back to that old policy.
What has been will be again, under the same
conditions. If you would have the peace of the
old times, readopt the precepts and policy of the
old times.
You charge that we stir up insurrections among
your slaves. We deny it; and what is your proof?
Harper’s Ferry! John Brown! John Brown was
no Republican; and you have failed to implicate
a single Republican in his Harper’s Ferry enterprise.
If any member of our party is guilty in
that matter you know it, or you do not know it.
If you do know it, you are inexcusable for not
designating the man and proving the fact. If
you do not know it, you are inexcusable for asserting
it, and especially for persisting in the
assertion after you have tried and failed to make
the proof. You need not be told that persisting
in a charge which one does not know to be true,
is simply malicious slander.
Some of you admit that no Republican designedly
aided or encouraged the Harper’s Ferry affair,
but still insist that our doctrines and declarations
necessarily lead to such results. We do
not believe it. We know we hold no doctrine, and
make no declaration, which were not held to and
made by “our fathers who framed the government
under which we live.” You never dealt
fairly by us in relation to this affair. When it
occurred, some important State elections were near
at hand, and you were in evident glee with the
belief that, by charging the blame upon us, you
could get an advantage of us in those elections.
The elections came, and your expectations were
not quite fulfilled. Every Republican man knew
that, as to himself at least, your charge was a
slander, and he was not much inclined by it to
cast his vote in your favor. Republican doctrines
and declarations are accompanied with a continual
protest against any interference whatever with
your slaves, or with you about your slaves. Surely
this does not encourage them to revolt. True, we
do, in common with “our fathers who framed the
government under which we live,” declare our belief
that slavery is wrong; but the slaves do not
hear us declare even this. For anything we say
or do, the slaves would scarcely know there is a
Republican party. I believe they would not, in
fact, generally know it but for your misrepresentations
of us in their hearing. In your political contests
among yourselves, each faction charges the
other with sympathy with Black Republicanism;
and then, to give point to the charge, defines Black
Republicanism to simply be insurrection, blood,
and thunder among the slaves.
Slave insurrections are no more common now
than they were before the Republican party was
organized. What induced the Southampton insurrection,
twenty-eight years ago, in which at
least three times as many lives were lost as at Harper’s
Ferry? You can scarcely stretch your very
elastic fancy to the conclusion that Southampton
was “got up by Black Republicanism.” In the
present state of things in the United States, I do
not think a general, or even a very extensive, slave
insurrection is possible. The indispensable concert
of action cannot be attained. The slaves have no
means of rapid communication; nor can incendiary
freemen, black or white, supply it. The explosive
materials are everywhere in parcels; but there
neither are, nor can be supplied, the indispensable
connecting trains.
Much is said by Southern people about the affection
of slaves for their masters and mistresses;
and a part of it, at least, is true. A plot for an
uprising could scarcely be devised and communicated
to twenty individuals before some one of
them, to save the life of a favorite master or mistress,
would divulge it. This is the rule; and the
slave revolution in Hayti was not an exception
to it, but a case occurring under peculiar circumstances.
The gunpowder plot of British history,
though not connected with slaves, was more in
point. In that case only about twenty were admitted
to the secret; and yet one of them, in his
anxiety to save a friend, betrayed the plot to that
friend, and, by consequence, averted the calamity.
Occasional poisonings from the kitchen and open
or stealthy assassinations in the field, and local revolts
extending to a score or so, will continue to
occur as the natural results of slavery; but no general
insurrections of slaves, as I think, can happen
in this country for a long time. Whoever
much fears, or much hopes, for such an event, will
be alike disappointed.
In the language of Mr. Jefferson, uttered many
years ago, “It is still in our power to direct the
process of emancipation and deportation peaceably,
and in such slow degrees, as that the evil will
wear off insensibly; and their places be, pari passu,
filled up by free white laborers. If, on the contrary,
it is left to force itself on, human nature
must shudder at the prospect held up.”
Mr. Jefferson did not mean to say, nor do I,
that the power of emancipation is in the Federal
Government. He spoke of Virginia; and, as to
the power of emancipation, I speak of the slaveholding
States only. The Federal Government,
however, as we insist, has the power of restraining
the extension of the institution—the power to insure
that a slave insurrection shall never occur on
any American soil which is now free from slavery.
John Brown’s effort was peculiar. It was not
a slave insurrection. It was an attempt by white
men to get up a revolt among slaves, in which the
slaves refused to participate. In fact, it was so
absurd that the slaves, with all their ignorance,
saw plainly enough it could not succeed. That affair,
in its philosophy, corresponds with the many
attempts, related in history, at the assassination of
kings and emperors. An enthusiast broods over
the oppression of a people till he fancies himself
commissioned by Heaven to liberate them. He
ventures the attempt, which ends in little else than
his own execution. Orsini’s attempt on Louis Napoleon
and John Brown’s attempt at Harper’s
Ferry were, in their philosophy, precisely the same.
The eagerness to cast blame on old England in the
one case and on New England in the other, does
not disprove the sameness of the two things.
And how much would it avail you, if you could,
by the use of John Brown, Helper’s Book, and the
like, break up the Republican organization? Human
action can be modified to some extent, but
human nature cannot be changed. There is a
judgment and a feeling against slavery in this nation
which cast at least a million and a half of
votes. You cannot destroy that judgment and
feeling—that sentiment—by breaking up the political
organization which rallies around it. You
can scarcely scatter and disperse an army which
has been formed into order in the face of your
heaviest fire; but if you could, how much would
you gain by forcing the sentiment which created
it out of the peaceful channel of the ballot-box into
some other channel? What would that other
channel probably be? Would the number of John
Browns be lessened or enlarged by the operation?
But you will break up the Union rather than
submit to a denial of your constitutional rights.
That has a somewhat reckless sound; but it
would be palliated, if not fully justified, were we
proposing, by the mere force of numbers, to deprive
you of some right plainly written down in
the Constitution. But we are proposing no such
thing.
When you make these declarations, you have a
specific and well-understood allusion to an assumed
constitutional right of yours to take slaves into
the Federal Territories, and to hold them there as
property. But no such right is specifically written
in the Constitution. That instrument is literally
silent about any such right. We, on the contrary,
deny that such a right has any existence in the Constitution,
even by implication.
Your purpose, then, plainly stated, is that you
will destroy the government, unless you be allowed
to construe and force the Constitution as you
please, on all points in dispute between you and
us. You will rule or ruin in all events.
This, plainly stated, is your language. Perhaps
you will say the Supreme Court has decided
the disputed constitutional question in your favor.
Not quite so. But waiving the lawyer’s distinction
between dictum and decision, the court has decided
the question for you in a sort of way. The court
has substantially said, it is your constitutional right
to take slaves into the Federal Territories, and to
hold them there as property. When I say the decision
was made in a sort of way, I mean it was
made in a divided court, by a bare majority of
the judges, and they not quite agreeing with one
another in the reasons for making it; that it is so
made that its avowed supporters disagree with one
another about its meaning, and that it was mainly
based upon a mistaken statement of fact—the
statement in the opinion that “the right of property
in a slave is distinctly and expressly affirmed
in the Constitution.”
An inspection of the Constitution will show that
the right of property in a slave is not “distinctly
and expressly affirmed” in it. Bear in mind, the
judges do not pledge their judicial opinion that
such right is impliedly affirmed in the Constitution;
but they pledge their veracity that it is
“distinctly and expressly” affirmed there—“distinctly,”
that is, not mingled with anything else—“expressly,”
that is, in words meaning just that,
without the aid of any inference, and susceptible
of no other meaning.
If they had only pledged their judicial opinion
that such right is affirmed in the instrument by
implication, it would be open to others to show
that neither the word “slave” nor “slavery” is
to be found in the Constitution, nor the word
“property” even, in any connection with language
alluding to the things slave, or slavery; and that
wherever in that instrument the slave is alluded
to, he is called a “person”; and wherever his
master’s legal right in relation to him is alluded
to, it is spoken of as “service or labor which may
be due”—as a debt payable in service or labor.
Also it would be open to show, by contemporaneous
history, that this mode of alluding to slaves
and slavery, instead of speaking of them, was
employed on purpose to exclude from the Constitution
the idea that there could be property in
man.
To show all this is easy and certain.
When this obvious mistake of the judges shall
be brought to their notice, is it not reasonable to
expect that they will withdraw the mistaken statement,
and reconsider the conclusion based upon it?
And then it is to be remembered that “our fathers
who framed the government under which
we live”—the men who made the Constitution—decided
this same constitutional question in our
favor long ago: decided it without division among
themselves when making the decision; without division
among themselves about the meaning of it
after it was made, and, so far as any evidence is
left, without basing it upon any mistaken statement
of facts.
Under all these circumstances, do you really feel
yourselves justified to break up this government
unless such a court decision as yours is shall be
at once submitted to as a conclusive and final rule
of political action? But you will not abide the
election of a Republican president! In that supposed
event, you say, you will destroy the Union;
and then, you say, the great crime of having destroyed
it will be upon us! That is cool. A highwayman
holds a pistol to my ear, and mutters
through his teeth, “Stand and deliver, or I shall
kill you, and then you will be a murderer!”
To be sure, what the robber demanded of me—my
money—was my own; and I had a clear right
to keep it; but it was no more my own than my
vote is my own; and the threat of death to me,
to extort my money, and the threat of destruction
to the Union, to extort my vote, can scarcely be distinguished
in principle.
A few words now to Republicans. It is exceedingly
desirable that all parts of this great Confederacy
shall be at peace and in harmony one
with another. Let us Republicans do our part to
have it so. Even though much provoked, let us
do nothing through passion and ill-temper. Even
though the Southern people will not so much as
listen to us, let us calmly consider their demands,
and yield to them if, in our deliberate view of our
duty, we possibly can. Judging by all they say and
do, and by the subject and nature of their controversy
with us, let us determine, if we can, what
will satisfy them.
Will they be satisfied if the Territories be unconditionally
surrendered to them? We know
they will not. In all their present complaints
against us, the Territories are scarcely mentioned.
Invasions and insurrections are the rage now.
Will it satisfy them if, in the future, we have nothing
to do with invasions and insurrections? We
know it will not. We so know, because we know
we never had anything to do with invasions and
insurrections; and yet this total abstaining does
not exempt us from the charge and the denunciation.
The question recurs, What will satisfy them?
Simply this: we must not only let them alone, but
we must somehow convince them that we do let
them alone. This, we know by experience, is no
easy task. We have been so trying to convince
them from the very beginning of our organization,
but with no success. In all our platforms and
speeches we have constantly protested our purpose
to let them alone; but this has had no tendency to
convince them. Alike unavailing to convince them
is the fact that they have never detected a man of
us in any attempt to disturb them.
These natural and apparently adequate means
all failing, what will convince them? This, and
this only: cease to call slavery wrong, and join
them in calling it right. And this must be done
thoroughly—done in acts as well as in words. Silence
will not be tolerated—we must place ourselves
avowedly with them. Senator Douglas’s
new sedition law must be enacted and enforced,
suppressing all declarations that slavery is wrong,
whether made in politics, in presses, in pulpits, or
in private. We must arrest and return their fugitive
slaves with greedy pleasure. We must pull
down our free-State constitutions. The whole atmosphere
must be disinfected from all taint of
opposition to slavery, before they will cease to
believe that all their troubles proceed from us.
I am quite aware they do not state their case
precisely in this way. Most of them would probably
say to us, “Let us alone; do nothing to us,
and say what you please about slavery.” But we
do let them alone,—have never disturbed them,—so
that, after all, it is what we say which dissatisfies
them. They will continue to accuse us of doing,
until we cease saying.
I am also aware they have not as yet in terms
demanded the overthrow of our free-State constitutions.
Yet those constitutions declare the wrong
of slavery with more solemn emphasis than do all
other sayings against it; and when all these other
sayings shall have been silenced, the overthrow of
these constitutions will be demanded, and nothing
be left to resist the demand. It is nothing to the
contrary that they do not demand the whole of this
just now. Demanding what they do, and for the
reason they do, they can voluntarily stop nowhere
short of this consummation. Holding, as they do,
that slavery is morally right and socially elevating,
they cannot cease to demand a full national recognition
of it as a legal right and a social blessing.
Nor can we justifiably withhold this on any
ground save our conviction that slavery is wrong.
If slavery is right, all words, acts, laws, and constitutions
against it are themselves wrong, and should
be silenced and swept away. If it is right, we cannot
justly object to its nationality—its universality;
if it is wrong, they cannot justly insist upon its
extension—its enlargement. All they ask we could
readily grant, if we thought slavery right; all we
ask they could as readily grant, if they thought it
wrong. Their thinking it right and our thinking
it wrong is the precise fact upon which depends
the whole controversy. Thinking it right, as they
do, they are not to blame for desiring its full recognition
as being right; but thinking it wrong, as
we do, can we yield to them? Can we cast our
votes with their view, and against our own? In
view of our moral, social, and political responsibilities,
can we do this?
Wrong as we think slavery is, we can yet afford
to let it alone where it is, because that much is due
to the necessity arising from its actual presence in
the nation; but can we, while our votes will prevent
it, allow it to spread into the national Territories,
and to overrun us here in these free States?
If our sense of duty forbids this, then let us stand
by our duty fearlessly and effectively. Let us be
diverted by none of those sophistical contrivances
wherewith we are so industriously plied and belabored—contrivances
such as groping for some
middle ground between the right and the wrong:
vain as the search for a man who should be neither
a living man nor a dead man; such as a policy of
“don’t care” on a question about which all true
men do care; such as Union appeals beseeching
true Union men to yield to Disunionists, reversing
the divine rule, and calling, not the sinners, but
the righteous, to repentance; such as invocations
to Washington, imploring men to unsay what
Washington said and undo what Washington did.
Neither let us be slandered from our duty by
false accusations against us, nor frightened from
it by menaces of destruction to the government,
nor of dungeons to ourselves. Let us have faith
that right makes might, and in that faith let us
to the end dare to do our duty as we understand it.