American Eloquence, Volume II. (of 4) by Various

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It may sound strange to some, this claim for Mr. Garrison of a profound
statesmanship. "Men have heard him styled a mere fanatic so long
that they are incompetent to judge him fairly." "The phrases men are
accustomed," says Goethe, "to repeat incessantly, end by becoming
convictions, and ossify the organs of intelligence." I cannot accept
you, therefore, as my jury. I appeal from Festus to Csar, from the
prejudice of our streets to the common-sense of the world, and to your
children.

Every thoughtful and unprejudiced mind must see that such an evil as
slavery will yield only to the most radical treatment. If you consider
the work we have to do, you will not think us needlessly aggressive,
or that we dig down unnecessarily deep in laying the foundations of our
enterprise. A money power of two thousand millions of dollars, as the
prices of slaves now range, held by a small body of able and desperate
men; that body raised into a political aristocracy by special
constitutional provisions; cotton, the product of slave labor, forming
the basis of our whole foreign commerce, and the commercial class thus
subsidized; the press bought up, the pulpit reduced to vassalage, the
heart of the common people chilled by a bitter prejudice against the
black race; our leading men bribed, by ambition, either to silence or
open hostility;--in such a land, on what shall an Abolitionist rely?
On a few cold prayers, mere lip-service, and never from the heart? On
a church resolution, hidden often in its records, and meant only as a
decent cover for servility in daily practice? On political parties, with
their superficial influence at best, and seeking ordinarily only to use
existing prejudices to the best advantage? Slavery has deeper root here
than any aristocratic institution has in Europe; and politics is but the
common pulse-beat, of which revolution is the fever-spasm. Yet we have
seen European aristocracy survive storms which seemed to reach down
to the primal strata of European life. Shall we, then, trust to mere
politics, where even revolution has failed? How shall the stream rise
above its fountain? Where shall our church organizations or parties
get strength to attack their great parent and moulder, the slave power?
Shall the thing formed say to him that formed it, Why hast thou made me
thus? The old jest of one who tried to lift himself in his own basket,
is but a tame picture of the man who imagines that, by working solely
through existing sects and parties, he can destroy slavery. Mechanics
say nothing, but an earthquake strong enough to move all Egypt can bring
down the pyramids.

Experience has confirmed these views. The Abolitionists who have acted
on them have a "short method" with all unbelievers. They have but to
point to their own success, in contrast with every other man's failure.
To waken the nation to its real state, and chain it to the consideration
of this one duty, is half the work. So much we have done. Slavery has
been made the question of this generation. To startle the South to
madness, so that every step she takes, in her blindness, is one step
more toward ruin, is much. This we have done. Witness Texas and the
Fugitive Slave Law.

To have elaborated for the nation the only plan of redemption, pointed
out the only exodus from this "sea of troubles," is much. This we claim
to have done in our motto of IMMEDIATE, UNCONDITIONAL, EMANCIPATION ON
THE SOIL. The closer any statesmanlike mind looks into the question,
the more favor our plan finds with it. The Christian asks fairly of
the infidel, "If this religion be not from God, how do you explain its
triumph, and the history of the first three centuries?" Our question
is similar. If our agitation has not been wisely planned and conducted,
explain for us the history of the last twenty years! Experience is a
safe light to walk by, and he is not a rash man who expects success in
future from the same means which have secured it in times past.

CHARLES SUMNER,

OF MASSACHUSETTS. (BORN 1811, DIED 1874.)

ON THE REPEAL OF THE FUGITIVE SLAVE LAW--

IN THE UNITED STATES SENATE, AUGUST 26, 1852.

THURSDAY, 26TH AUGUST, 1852.--The Civil and Diplomatic Appropriation
Bill being under consideration, the following amendment was moved by Mr.
Hunter, of Virginia, on the recommendation of the Committee on Finance:

"That, where the ministerial officers of the United States have or shall
incur extraordinary expense in executing the laws thereof, the payment
of which is not specifically provided for, the President of the United
States is authorized to allow the payment thereof, under the special
taxation of the District or Circuit Court of the District in which
the said services have been or shall be rendered, to be paid from the
appropriation for defraying the expenses of the Judiciary."

Mr. Sumner seized the opportunity for which he had been waiting, and at
once moved the following amendment to the amendment:

"Provided, That no such allowance shall be authorized for any expenses
incurred in executing the Act of September 18, 1850, for the surrender
of fugitives from service or labor; which said Act is hereby repealed."

On this he took the floor, and spoke as follows:

MR. PRESIDENT,

Here is a provision for extraordinary expense incurred in executing the
laws of the United States. Extraordinary expenses! Sir, beneath these
specious words lurks the very subject on which, by a solemn vote of this
body, I was refused a hearing. Here it is; no longer open to the
charge of being an "abstraction," but actually presented for practical
legislation; not introduced by me, but by the Senator from Virginia (Mr.
Hunter), on the recommendation of an important committee of the Senate;
not brought forward weeks ago, when there was ample time for discussion,
but only at this moment, without any reference to the late period of
the session. The amendment which I offer proposes to remove one chief
occasion of these extraordinary expenses. Beyond all controversy or
cavil it is strictly in order. And now, at last, among these final,
crowded days of our duties here, but at this earliest opportunity, I
am to be heard,--not as a favor, but as a right. The graceful usages
of this body may be abandoned, but the established privileges of
debate cannot be abridged. Parliamentary courtesy may be forgotten,
but parliamentary law must prevail. The subject is broadly before the
Senate. By the blessing of God it shall be discussed.

Sir, a severe lawgiver of early Greece vainly sought to secure
permanence for his imperfect institutions by providing that the citizen
who at any time attempted their repeal or alteration should appear in
the public assembly with a halter about his neck, ready to be drawn,
if his proposition failed. A tyrannical spirit among us, in unconscious
imitation of this antique and discarded barbarism, seeks to surround an
offensive institution with similar safeguard.

In the existing distemper of the public mind, and at this present
juncture, no man can enter upon the service which I now undertake,
with-out personal responsibility, such as can be sustained only by
that sense of duty which, under God, is always our best support. That
personal responsibility I accept. Before the Senate and the country let
me be held accountable for this act and for every word which I utter.

With me, Sir, there is no alternative. Painfully convinced of the
unutterable wrong and woe of Slavery,--profoundly believing, that,
according to the true spirit of the Constitution and the sentiments of
the Fathers, it can find no place under our National Government,--that
it is in every respect sectional, and in no respect national,--that it
is always and everywhere creature and dependent of the States, and never
anywhere creature or dependent of the Nation,--and that the Nation can
never, by legislative or other act, impart to it any support, under the
Constitution of the United States,--with these convictions I could
not allow this session to reach its close without making or seizing an
opportunity to declare myself openly against the usurpation, injustice,
and cruelty of the late intolerable enactment for the recovery of
fugitive slaves. Full well I know, Sir, the difficulties of this
discussion, arising from prejudices of opinion and from adverse
conclusions strong and sincere as my own. Full well I know that I am
in a small minority, with few here to whom I can look for sympathy or
support. Full well I know that I must utter things unwelcome to many
in this body, which I cannot do without pain. Full well I know that the
institution of Slavery in our country, which I now proceed to consider,
is as sensitive as it is powerful, possessing a power to shake the whole
land, with a sensitiveness that shrinks and trembles at the touch. But
while these things may properly prompt me to caution and reserve, they
cannot change my duty, or my determination to perform it. For this I
willingly forget myself and all personal consequences. The favor and
good-will of my fellow-citizens, of my brethren of the Senate,
Sir, grateful to me as they justly are, I am ready, if required, to
sacrifice. Whatever I am or may be I freely offer to this cause.

Here allow, for one moment, a reference to myself and my position. Sir,
I have never been a politician. The slave of principles, I call no party
master. By sentiment, education, and conviction a friend of Human Rights
in their utmost expansion, I have ever most sincerely embraced the
Democratic Idea,--not, indeed, as represented or professed by any
party, but according to its real significance, as transfigured in the
Declaration of Independence and in the injunctions of Christianity. In
this idea I see no narrow advantage merely for individuals or classes,
but the sovereignty of the people, and the greatest happiness of all
secured by equal laws. Amidst the vicissitudes of public affairs I shall
hold fast always to this idea, and to any political party which truly
embraces it.

Party does not constrain me; nor is my independence lessened by any
relations to the office which gives me a title to be heard on this
floor. Here, Sir, I speak proudly. By no effort, by no desire of my own,
I find myself a Senator of the United States. Never before have I held
public office of any kind. With the ample opportunities of private life
I was content. No tombstone for me could bear a fairer inscription than
this: "Here lies one who, without the honors or emoluments of public
station, did something for his fellowmen." From such simple aspirations
I was taken away by the free choice of my native Commonwealth, and
placed at this responsible post of duty, without personal obligation of
any kind, beyond what was implied in my life and published words. The
earnest friends by whose confidence I was first designated asked nothing
from me, and throughout the long conflict which ended in my election
rejoiced in the position which I most carefully guarded. To all my
language was uniform: that I did not desire to be brought forward;
that I would do nothing to promote the result; that I had no pledges or
promises to offer; that the office should seek me, and not I the office;
and that it should find me in all respects an independent man, bound to
no party and to no human being, but only, according to my best judgment,
to act for the good of all. Again, Sir, I speak with pride, both for
myself and others, when I add that these avowals found a sympathizing
response. In this spirit I have come here, and in this spirit I shall
speak to-day.

Rejoicing in my independence, and claiming nothing from party ties, I
throw myself upon the candor and magnanimity of the Senate. I ask your
attention; I trust not to abuse it. I may speak strongly, for I shall
speak openly and from the strength of my convictions. I may speak warmly,
for I shall speak from the heart. But in no event can I forget the
amenities which belong to debate, and which especially become this body.
Slavery I must condemn with my whole soul; but here I need only borrow
the language of slaveholders; nor would it accord with my habits or
my sense of justice to exhibit them as the impersonation of the
institution--Jefferson calls it the "enormity"--which they cherish.
Of them I do not speak; but without fear and without favor, as without
impeachment of any person, I assail this wrong. Again, Sir, I may err;
but it will be with the Fathers. I plant myself on the ancient ways of
the Republic, with its grandest names, its surest landmarks, and all its
original altar-fires about me.

And now, on the very threshold, I encounter the objection, that there
is a final settlement, in principle and substance, of the question of
slavery, and that all discussion of it is closed. Both the old political
parties, by formal resolutions, in recent conventions at Baltimore, have
united in this declaration. On a subject which for years has agitated
the public mind, which yet palpitates in every heart and burns on every
tongue, which in its immeasurable importance dwarfs all other subjects,
which by its constant and gigantic presence throws a shadow across
these halls, which at this very time calls for appropriations to meet
extraordinary expenses it has caused, they impose the rule of silence.
According to them, Sir, we may speak of everything except that alone
which is most present in all our minds.

To this combined effort I might fitly reply, that, with flagrant
inconsistency, it challenges the very discussion it pretends to forbid.
Their very declaration, on the eve of an election, is, of course,
submitted to the consideration and ratification of the people. Debate,
inquiry, discussion, are the necessary consequence. Silence becomes
impossible. Slavery, which you profess to banish from public attention,
openly by your invitation enters every political meeting and every
political convention. Nay, at this moment it stalks into this Senate,
crying, like the daughters of the horseleech, "Give! give."

But no unanimity of politicians can uphold the baseless assumption, that
a law, or any conglomerate of laws, under the name of compromise, or
howsoever called, is final. Nothing can be plainer than this,--that by
no parliamentary device or knot can any legislature tie the hands of
a succeeding legislature, so as to prevent the full exercise of its
constitutional powers. Each legislature, under a just sense of its
responsibility, must judge for itself; and if it think proper, it may
revise, or amend, or absolutely undo the work of any predecessor.
The laws of the Medes and Persians are said proverbially to have been
unalterable; but they stand forth in history as a single example where
the true principles of all law have been so irrationally defied.

To make a law final, so as not to be reached by Congress, is, by mere
legislation, to fasten a new provision on the Constitution. Nay, more;
it gives to the law a character which the very Constitution does not
possess. The wise Fathers did not treat the country as a Chinese foot,
never to grow after infancy; but, anticipating progress, they
declared expressly that their great Act is not final. According to the
Constitution itself, there is not one of its existing provisions--not
even that with regard to fugitives from labor--which may not at all
times be reached by amendment, and thus be drawn into debate. This
is rational and just. Sir, nothing from man's hands, nor law, nor
constitution, can be final. Truth alone is final.

Inconsistent and absurd, this effort is tyrannical also. The
responsibility for the recent Slave Act, and for slavery everywhere
within the jurisdiction of Congress, necessarily involves the right to
discuss them. To separate these is impossible. Like the twenty-fifth
rule of the House of Representatives against petitions on Slavery,--now
repealed and dishonored,--the Compromise, as explained and urged, is a
curtailment of the actual powers of legislation, and a perpetual
denial of the indisputable principle, that the right to deliberate is
coextensive with the responsibility for an act. To sustain Slavery it
is now proposed to trample on free speech. In any country this would be
grievous; but here, where the Constitution expressly provides against
abridging freedom of speech, it is a special outrage. In vain do we
condemn the despotisms of Europe, while we borrow the rigors with which
they repress Liberty, and guard their own uncertain power. For myself,
in no factious spirit, but solemnly and in loyalty to the Constitution,
as a Senator of the United States, representing a free Commonwealth, I
protest against this wrong.

On Slavery, as on every other subject, I claim the right to be heard.
That right I cannot, I will not abandon. "Give me the liberty to
know, to utter, and to argue freely according to conscience, above
all liberties"; these are glowing words, flashed from the soul of John
Milton in his struggles with English tyranny. With equal fervor they
could be echoed now by every American not already a slave.

But, Sir, this effort is impotent as tyrannical. Convictions of the
heart cannot be repressed. Utterances of conscience must be heard. They
break forth with irrepressible might. As well attempt to check the tides
of ocean, the currents of the Mississippi, or the rushing waters of
Niagara. The discussion of Slavery will proceed, wherever two or three
are gathered together,--by the fireside, on the highway, at the public
meeting, in the church. The movement against Slavery is from the
Everlasting Arm. Even now it is gathering its forces, soon to be
confessed everywhere. It may not be felt yet in the high places of
office and power, but all who can put their ears humbly to the ground
will hear and comprehend its incessant and advancing tread.

The relations of the National Government to Slavery, though plain and
obvious, are constantly misunderstood. A popular belief at this moment
makes Slavery a national institution, and of course renders its support
a national duty. The extravagance of this error can hardly be surpassed.
An institution which our fathers most carefully omitted to name in the
Constitution, which, according to the debates in the Convention,
they refused to cover with any "sanction," and which, at the original
organization of the Government, was merely sectional, existing nowhere
on the national territory, is now, above all other things, blazoned as
national. Its supporters pride themselves as national. The old political
parties, while upholding it, claim to be national. A National Whig
is simply a Slavery Whig, and a National Democrat is simply a Slavery
Democrat, in contradistinction to all who regard Slavery as a sectional
institution, within the exclusive control of the States and with which
the nation has nothing to do.

As Slavery assumes to be national, so, by an equally strange perversion,
Freedom is degraded to be sectional, and all who uphold it, under the
National Constitution, are made to share this same epithet. Honest
efforts to secure its blessings everywhere within the jurisdiction of
Congress are scouted as sectional; and this cause, which the founders
of our National Government had so much at heart, is called Sectionalism.
These terms, now belonging to the common places of political speech, are
adopted and misapplied by most persons without reflection. But here is
the power of Slavery. According to a curious tradition of the French
language, Louis XIV., the Grand Monarch, by an accidental error of
speech, among supple courtiers, changed the gender of a noun. But
slavery does more. It changes word for word. It teaches men to say
national instead of sectional, and sectional instead of national.

Slavery national! Sir, this is a mistake and absurdity, fit to have a
place in some new collection of Vulgar Errors, by some other Sir Thomas
Browne, with the ancient, but exploded stories, that the toad has a
gem in its head, and that ostriches digest iron. According to the true
spirit of the Constitution, and the sentiments of the Fathers, Slavery,
and not Freedom, is sectional, while Freedom, and not Slavery, is
national. On this unanswerable proposition I take my stand, and here
commences my argument.

The subject presents itself under two principal heads: _First, the true
relations of the National Government to Slavery_, wherein it will appear
that there is no national fountain from which Slavery can be derived,
and no national power, under the Constitution, by which it can be
supported. Enlightened by this general survey, we shall be prepared to
consider, _secondly, the true nature of the provision for the rendition
of fugitives from service_, and herein especially the unconstitutional
and offensive legislation of Congress in pursuance thereof.

I.

And now for THE TRUE RELATIONS OF THE NATIONAL GOVERNMENT TO SLAVERY.
These are readily apparent, if we do not neglect well-established
principles.

If slavery be national, if there be any power in the National Government
to withhold this institution,--as in the recent Slave Act,--it must
be by virtue of the Constitution. Nor can it be by mere inference,
implication, or conjecture. According to the uniform admission of courts
and jurists in Europe, again and again promulgated in our country,
slavery can be derived only from clear and special recognition. "The
state of Slavery," said Lord Mansfield, pronouncing judgment in the
great case of Sommersett, "is of such a nature that it is incapable
of being introduced on any reasons, moral or political, but only by
positive law.... _It is so odious, that nothing can be suffered to
support it but positive law_."

* * * * *

Of course every power to uphold slavery must have an origin as distinct
as that of Slavery itself. Every presumption must be as strong against
such a power as against slavery. A power so peculiar and offensive,
so hostile to reason, so repugnant to the law of Nature and the inborn
rights of man,--which despoils its victim of the fruits of labor,--which
substitutes concubinage for marriage,--which abrogates the relation of
parent and child,--which, by denial of education, abases the intellect,
prevents a true knowledge of God, and murders the very soul,--which,
amidst a plausible physical comfort, degrades man, created in the
divine image, to the state of a beast,--such a power, so eminent, so
transcendent, so tyrannical, so unjust, can find no place in any system
of government, unless by virtue of positive sanction. It can spring from
no doubtful phrase. It must be declared by unambiguous words, incapable
of a double sense.

* * * * *

Sir, such, briefly, are the rules of interpretation, which, as applied
to the Constitution, fill it with the breath of freedom,--

"Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt."

To the history and prevailing sentiments of the times we may turn for
further assurance. In the spirit of freedom the Constitution was formed.
In this spirit our fathers always spoke and acted. In this spirit the
National Government was first organized under Washington. And here I
recall a scene, in itself a touch-stone of the period, and an example
for us, upon which we may look with pure national pride, while we learn
anew the relations of the National Government to Slavery.

The Revolution was accomplished. The feeble Government of the
Confederation passed away. The Constitution, slowly matured in a
National Convention, discussed before the people, defended by masterly
pens, was adopted. The Thirteen States stood forth a Nation, where was
unity without consolidation, and diversity without discord. The hopes of
all were anxiously hanging upon the new order of things and the mighty
procession of events. With signal unanimity Washington was chosen
President. Leaving his home at Mount Vernon, he repaired to New
York,--where the first Congress had commenced its session,--to assume
his place as Chief of the Republic. On the 30th of April, 1789, the
organization of the Government was completed by his inauguration.
Entering the Senate Chamber, where the two Houses were assembled, he was
informed that they awaited his readiness to receive the oath of office.
Without delay, attended by the Senators and Representatives, with
friends and men of mark gathered about him, he moved to the balcony in
front of the edifice. A countless multitude, thronging the open ways,
and eagerly watching this great espousal,

"With reverence look on his majestic face,
Proud to be less, but of his godlike race."

The oath was administered by the Chancellor of New York. At such time,
and in such presence, beneath the unveiled heavens, Washington first
took this vow upon his lips: "I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully
execute the office of President of the United States, and will, to the
best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of
the United States."

Over the President, on this new occasion, floated the national flag,
with its stripes of red and white, its stars on a field of blue. As
his patriot eye rested upon the glowing ensign, what currents must have
rushed swiftly through his soul. In the early days of the Revolution, in
those darkest hours about Boston, after the Battle of Bunker Hill, and
before the Declaration of Independence, the thirteen stripes had been
first unfurled by him, as the emblem of Union among the Colonies for
the sake of Freedom. By him, at that time, they had been named the Union
Flag. Trial, struggle, and war were now ended, and the Union, which they
first heralded, was unalterably established. To every beholder these
memories, must have been full of pride and consolation. But, looking
back upon the scene, there is one circumstance which, more than all its
other associations, fills the soul,--more even than the suggestions of
Union, which I prize so much. AT THIS MOMENT, WHEN WASHINGTON TOOK
HIS FIRST OATH TO SUPPORT THE CONSTITUTION OF THE UNITED STATES, THE
NATIONAL ENSIGN, NOWHERE WITHIN THE NATIONAL TERRITORY, COVERED A SINGLE
SLAVE. Then, indeed, was Slavery Sectional, and Freedom National.

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