Fellow-Citizens, Ladies, and Gentlemen:—

In opening this course of lectures, devoted to Human Improvement, I cannot forget that noble spirit, especially dear to many of you as pastor, whom we had hoped to welcome at this time in restored health, instead of mourning dead in a distant land. I knew him well, and never came within his influence without confessing his many-sided powers, his marvellous acquirements, his rare eloquence, his soul touched to so many generous sympathies, and his heart beating warm for his fellow-men. To the cause of Human Improvement, in every form, his life was given. For this he labored; for this he died.

It was my fortune to see him during several days in Paris, some time after he parted from you. He had recently arrived from the West Indies. I feel that I cannot err in offering a slight reminiscence of that meeting. I found him the same in purpose and aspiration as I had always known him,—earnest, thoughtful, and intent on all that helped the good of man, with the same completeness of intelligence, and the same large, loving heart. We visited together ancient by-ways and historic scenes of that wonderful metropolis, which no person was more forward to appreciate and to enjoy; but, turning from these fascinating objects, his conversation took the wings of the morning, and, traversing the Atlantic, rested on our own country, on friends at home, on his relations to his parishioners, on his unfinished labors, and on that great cause of Liberty, which contains all other causes, as the greater contains the less; for where Liberty is not, what is man, whether slave or master? Observing him carefully, with the fellow-feeling of a convalescent, I was glad and surprised to find in him so many signs of health. At that time he was stronger than I was; but he has been taken, and I am spared. Indeed, it was only in the husky whisper of his voice that he seemed weak. I envied him much his active step and his power to walk. But he had measured his forces, and calmly revealed to me his doubt whether he should live to see home again. If this were permitted, he did not expect to resume his old activities, but thought that in some quiet retreat, away from paved streets, surrounded by books, he might perhaps have strength to continue some of his labors, to bind up some of his sheaves, and occasionally to speak with his pen. But it was ordered otherwise. Not even this moderate anticipation was gratified. The fatal disease had fastened too surely upon him, and was slowly mastering all resistance. The devotion of friends, travel, change of scene, the charms of Switzerland, the classic breath of Italy, all were in vain. It was his wish that he should be buried where he fell, and this child of New England, the well-ripened product of her peculiar life, now sleeps in Tuscan earth, on the banks of the Arno, near the sepulchres of Michel Angelo and Galileo. But I know not if even this exalted association can make us content to renounce the pious privilege of laying him in one of our own tombs, among the people that he loved so well.

Pardon me for thus renewing your grief. But I felt that I could not address you on any other subject until I had mingled my feelings with yours, and our hearts had met in sympathy for our great bereavement.

THREAT OF DISUNION BY THE SLAVE STATES, AND ITS ABSURDITY.

FELLOW-CITIZENS,—The German Siebold begins his great treatise on the “Anatomy of the Invertebrates” with this general remark:—

In this remark of the illustrious naturalist I find an explanation of the number of parties now arrayed against us. On one side is the Republican party, openly declaring its principles, and looking with confidence to the Future. Threats of disunion, and menaces of violence, in constant cry, do not disturb it. Such a party may properly be called the Backbone party, or, adopting the phraseology of the German naturalist, the party of the Vertebrates.

But against the Republican party here in Massachusetts are three parties, or factions rather, which cannot be precisely named except from their candidates. Differing from each other superficially, they all concur in practical support of Slavery. At this moment, when the propagandists of Slavery insist upon its extension into the Territories, all these three factions lend themselves actively or passively to this work, and thus become practically Proslavery. Unwilling here in Massachusetts openly to advocate a wrong so unmistakable as Slavery, they find excuse in alleged danger to the Union, and bend before the threats and menaces of Slave-Masters. Not in the name of Freedom, which is really in danger, but in the name of the Union, which is only threatened, do they all three rally against the Republican party. In their flexibility to threats and menaces, they show a want of that backbone which characterizes the Republican party. In short, though differing from each other, they all take their place among Invertebrates, which, according to the naturalist, are of more various types than Vertebrates.

There is the Bell faction, the Breckinridge faction, and the Douglas faction, all three Invertebrates, declaring that the Union is in danger, and asking your votes in order to save it. That is, they ask you to abandon cherished convictions, and to allow Slavery, with all its Barbarism, to enter the outlying Territories of the Republic, simply because certain Slave-Masters threaten disunion. Instead of opposing the treason which is threatened, Freedom-loving voters of the North are summoned to surrender. Instead of scorning the violence which is menaced, we are asked to cringe before it. I ask you if this is not the special point of every appeal by any speaker representing either of these factions? No man so audacious here in Massachusetts as to argue for Slavery openly. He knows that his argument would be scouted. It is therefore by appeal for the Union that people are deluded. In this way the weak are cajoled, the timeserving are seduced, and the timid are frightened; and people professing opposition to Slavery gravely come forward as supporters of these Proslavery factions.

The unknown is apt to be exaggerated; so that, if these threats of disunion were now heard for the first time, we might, perhaps, pardon men who yield to their influence. But since this is not the first time such cries are heard,—since, indeed, they have been long sounding in our ears, so that their exact value is perfectly understood from the very beginning,—there seems no longer excuse or apology for hearkening to them. They are to be treated as threats, and nothing more. Look at them from the outset, and you will see their constant recurrence as weapons of political warfare.

Even while the Constitution was under discussion in the National Convention, the threats began. Georgia and South Carolina announced that they would not come into the Union, unless the African Slave-Trade, so dear in their sight, was allowed for twenty years under the Constitution; and the North ignominiously yielded this barbarous privilege, thus consenting to piracy. The cry from these States was then, “We will not come in.” Ever since it has been, “We will not stay in.”

One of the earliest and most characteristic outcries was on the ratification of Jay’s Treaty in 1795. This famous treaty, negotiated by John Jay, at that time Chief Justice of the United States, under the instructions of Washington, provided for the surrender of the Western posts by Great Britain, and indemnity to our merchants for spoliations on their commerce, and also the adjustment of claims of British merchants upon our citizens. In the opposition which it encountered we meet the following threat of disunion in Virginia, published in Davis’s Gazette, at Richmond.

Thus early was this menace tried. But the treaty was ratified.

The menace was employed with more effect to secure the adoption of the Missouri Compromise. This was in 1820. Missouri applied for admission into the Union as a Slaveholding State. Her admission was opposed by the North on the declared ground that it was not right to give any such sanction to Slavery. Thus the whole Slave Question was opened; and it was discussed with much thoroughness and ability, under the lead of Rufus King, once an eminent representative of Massachusetts, but at that time a venerable Senator from New York. Overthrown in argument, the Slave-Masters resorted to threats of disunion. The Union was pronounced in danger, and under this cry a compromise, first suggested in the House by Louis McLane, a Representative from Delaware, and in the Senate by William Pinkney, a Senator from Maryland, was adopted, by virtue of which Missouri was admitted as a Slave State, while Slavery was prohibited in the remaining territory north of 36° 30´, at that time trodden only by Indians. The special operative gain to the Slave-Masters was the admission of Missouri as a Slave State, with two new slaveholding Senators to confirm their predominance in the Senate; and this was notoriously secured under threats of disunion, by which weak men at the North were intimidated.

A record at the time by the late Mr. Justice Story, who was then at Washington, shows the temper especially of Virginia. Writing to a friend at home, he says:—

Such is the testimony of a tranquil observer, friend and associate of that illustrious Virginian, John Marshall, who witnessed this manifestation of the bullying spirit, and judged it.

Ten years passed, from 1820 to 1830, and the cry was raised again. It was now on the allegation of injustice in our Tariff. Here South Carolina took the lead, and openly threatened Nullification,—in the face of the arguments of Daniel Webster and the proclamations of Andrew Jackson. A modification of the tariff became necessary before this cry of “wolf” ceased. General Jackson, in a private letter written at the time, and now in the possession of our candidate, Mr. Andrew, predicts that “the Negro Question” will be the next occasion for it;[20] and he was right.

The subject of Slavery came up in Congress on petitions as early as 1835, and then commenced the great career of John Quincy Adams, as champion of Freedom, eclipsing even all his glories as diplomatist and President. At the presentation of petitions by this illustrious statesman, the old threats were revived; and falling before them, the Right of Petition itself was sacrificed. You all remember the depth of this humiliation.

This was followed by still another, on the introduction of the Wilmot Proviso, which was simply a proposition to prohibit Slavery in the Territories. The same threats broke forth with increased violence. Citizens at the North, while avowing hostility to Slavery, professed to be alarmed for the Union. Again they bowed, and in 1850 assisted in those Acts of Compromise, by which the Territories of Utah and New Mexico were left open to Slavery, and a Fugitive Slave Bill was passed, outraging alike every principle of Constitutional Liberty and every sentiment of Humanity. Here was surrender to this cry.

The menace of disunion at the South became chronic. Not a day passed that it was not uttered. At length, in 1856, John C. Fremont was nominated as candidate for the Presidency by the Republican party. As his election seemed at hand, we were again encountered by the same old threats. We were told, that, even if elected according to the forms of the Constitution, the Slave-Masters would not allow him to be inaugurated, and people at the North were summoned ignominiously to vote against him for the safety of the Union; and they surrendered to the call. Without this, John C. Fremont would have been chosen President. Thus again did the old menace prevail; and the chronic cry still continued, showing itself on the election of a Speaker, and then on the approval of Mr. Helper’s book by sixty-seven Members of Congress.[21]

And now Abraham Lincoln is the candidate, instead of John C. Fremont. Again the threats are renewed with increased animosity, and you are asked to vote against a statesman of marked abilities and blameless character, representing the early sentiments of the Fathers, simply because Slave-Masters menace disunion in the event of his election. Bending with invertebrate backs before these threats, you are called to surrender your principles, your votes, and your souls.

Thus seven times, at seven different stages in our history, since the adoption of the Constitution, has this menace of disunion been made to play its part. Whatever it might have been at first, it is now nothing more than “second childishness and mere oblivion, sans everything.” There is nothing in it which should not be treated with indignant contempt, certainly when employed here in Massachusetts to make us sacrifice our principles.

Absurd on the face, its absurdity is fully appreciated only when we consider its impotence as a remedy for the alleged grievances of the Slave States. They complain that fugitive slaves are not faithfully surrendered,—or, in other words, that some score or two of human beings, following the North Star, with the assistance of Northern men, succeed in securing their freedom. But disunion surely would be a poor remedy for this intolerable grievance; for it would leave them without even their present protection in this respect, without a Fugitive Slave Bill, or any constitutional safeguard, so that all fugitives, just so soon as they crossed the frontiers of the Slave States, would become free,—precisely as if Canada, with its British welcome to slaves, were carried down to the borders of Virginia and Maryland. If slaves escape now, what would they do then? If such things are done in the green tree, what would be done in the dry? Surely, in this case, it were better to

The other grievance is of the same character. The Slave-Masters complain, that, by the prohibition of Slavery in the Territories, they are deprived of the opportunity of new Slave States through which their predominance in the Senate may be continued. But, pray, what remedy for this loss can be found in disunion? Surely they cannot add to their present political strength by renouncing securities and dignities which they now enjoy in the national copartnership. It is true, that, while in the Union, they may be voted down on matters within the national jurisdiction and outside of the States; but they may nevertheless exert an influence, which on their withdrawal must be entirely renounced.

Such are the two grievances which are to justify disunion; and pardon me, if I venture to illustrate the irrational character of this remedy by an incident of scientific interest. The monkey in the Jardin des Plantes at Paris was found biting the rope by which he was suspended from the roof. “See,” said the learned professor, “that monkey shows the difference between brutes and men. He sees what he is doing, but does not see the consequence,—that down he will fall.” And the Slave States also bite the rope by which they are suspended, and, like the unreasoning brute, see not the consequence.

Yet more apparent is the absurdity of this threat, when we consider how it is to be accomplished. If the Slave States were solemnly unanimous at home, the cry might have a certain force. But it is well known that they are not unanimous. Whatever the threats of disorganizing extremists, the large mass of people even in the Slave States do not desire disunion. They keep aloof now from such threats, and openly declare their purpose to put down the traitors without assistance from the North; and this I cannot doubt would be done. Such men as Cassius M. Clay and the Blairs would find a field for their energies, and they would see at their side people who have not hitherto acted with them gladly forgetting past differences for the sake of a common cause. Here are emphatic words, just uttered by a speaker at the South, in reply to Mr. Yancey, which show that any such attempt would fare badly, even at home:—

But the absurdity of this threat glares upon us still more, when we reflect on the unhappy condition in which disunion would leave the seceding Slave States. Antiquity, by numerous instances, declares the danger from slaves, and history is continually verifying this truth. Even now, while I speak, we hear of insurrection at Norfolk, in Virginia, carrying with it wide-spread alarm, and the necessity for most especial vigilance. But in the event of disunion this condition would become permanent, so that life, if not a tragedy, would be a penance long drawn out. The whole region cursed with Slavery would be dotted over with fortifications and military posts; communities would be changed into camps carefully guarded against surprise; life would be as in Turkey or Tartary; and every Slave-Master would sleep with all the precautions of a highwayman fearing arrest, or of the mad prince, Don Carlos of Spain, who had two naked swords and two loaded pistols under his bed, and two arquebuses with powder and balls in his closet. The mother, as she heard the fire-bell at midnight, would clasp her infant to her breast, fearful that at last the long hoarded resentments of the slave would be vindictively indulged. Even the soil, now so productive, would refuse its increase; for Nature herself would cease to smile amidst the alarms of servile war. Thus cruelly harassed and impoverished at home, the Slave States could find little comfort abroad. For a brief moment they might brave the scorn and contempt poured upon them; but they must fail to have the sensibilities of men, or they would at last shrink before the finger-point of the civilized world. The house of Lycaon, the cruel king of early Greece, was destroyed by the thunder of Jove, and the miserable monarch changed to a wolf. Such would be the doom of a State which set at defiance the laws of Humanity. It would have a wolf’s head, and all would be against it.

The States which especially threaten secession are on the Mexican Gulf, and they have become known already as “The Gulf Squadron.” Not yet wolves, they are now ships. Let them sail, with the black flag at the mast-head. I know not how the tale would end, but I know well that Slavery could not gain. Their dismal fate is, perhaps, prefigured in that of the slaver loaded down with its human cargo, where the crew were all struck with ophthalmia, and in this condition of blindness, while vainly striving to navigate the vessel, and weltering on the sea, were at last picked up by a charitable cruiser and carried into port. Or perhaps it is prefigured in that of the famous craft known in story as “The Flying Dutchman,” which, darkened by piracy and murder, was doomed to perpetual cruise, unable to enter a port:—

Such is Disunion, in the history of its threats,—also in the reasons now alleged for it, the difficulties in its way, and its dismal consequences. But in all these aspects, from the beginning, we find but one supreme absurdity. It is the same, whether we ask Why? How? or What?

And yet you and I here in Massachusetts are summoned, under threats of disunion, to withdraw opposition to the extension of Slavery, and in token thereof to vote for Bell, or Breckinridge, or Douglas. I can do no such thing; nor do I see how any Northern man, with a head on his shoulders, or a heart in his bosom, or a backbone in his body, can do any such thing. Nor must fealty to the Union be measured by loud-mouthed profession. Not Cordelia, loving her father, in all simplicity, “according to her bond,” but the sisters Goneril and Regan, so fervent in professions, sacrificed him. And I do not hesitate to declare that the Republican party is the only true Union party. In the first place, it is the only party which is not connected in some way, by association, affiliation, communion, or sympathy, with disunionists; and, in the second place, it is the only party which seeks the establishment of those national principles of Freedom on which the Union was originally founded, and without which it cannot exist in security or honor.

As it is the only Union party, so the Republican party is the only Constitutional party. It is the only party which takes the Constitution unreservedly as guide, according to the spirit in which it was made, and the light of its Preamble,—rejecting the Proslavery interpretations adopted by the Bell faction, the Breckinridge faction, and the Douglas faction, all of which, in whatever form, are abhorrent to the spirit of the Constitution and the very words of its Preamble. In that Preamble it is declared that the Constitution is made to “establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our posterity.” Mark these important words. It is to establish justice: but Slavery is injustice. It is to insure domestic tranquillity: but Slavery insures domestic discord and insurrection. It is to provide for the common defence: but Slavery causes common weakness. It is to promote the general welfare: but Slavery perils the general welfare. Finally, it is to secure the blessings of Liberty to ourselves and our posterity: but Slavery sacrifices these blessings. Such is the Preamble, which is the key to the Constitution. The Republican party alone adopts its principles, as it alone adopts most honestly and sincerely the often declared opinions of its founders. Therefore it is the only Constitutional party.

For the Union and the Constitution, the Republican party is also the only party which maintains the great principles of Human Freedom. Thus in every respect is it commended to your support. The man who asks you here in Massachusetts to vote against it is either very weak, and believes in his own bad reasoning, or very artful, and laughs in his sleeve at your credulity, or very spiteful, and allows all things, even his principles and his country, to be lost in the gratification of a vindictive temper. Look at your opponents here, and you will find that weakness, duplicity, and spite are the three main springs to their conduct. This is a severe analysis, but I think the facts support the assertion.

Frankness is not a virtue of our opponents, else we should have this issue between us more fairly stated. But you will not be deceived. You will see, that, amidst all disguises and subterfuges, the great question perpetually recurs: Are you for Freedom, or are you for Slavery? On this single question you are to vote; and no cry of “Disunion” can change the issue. Are you for Freedom in the Territories? Are you for a National Government administered in the spirit of the Fathers? Are you for the prostration of the Slave Oligarchy which now rules the country? Vain is the attempt to interpose other questions, even that of the Union itself; and vain is the attempt to separate the combatants. The ancient armies of Rome and Carthage fought on, unconscious of an earthquake which upheaved mountains, toppled down cities, and turned the course of rivers. But the animosity between Freedom and Slavery is not less implacable and self-forgetful. It can end only with the triumph of Freedom.

Freedom, which is the breath of God, is a great leveller; but it raises where it levels. Slavery, which is the breath of Satan, is also a great leveller; but it degrades everything, carrying with it master as well as slave. Choose ye between them; and remember that your first duty is to stand up straight, and not bend before absurd threats, whether uttered at the South or repeated here in Massachusetts. Let people cry, “Disunion.” We know what the cry means, and we answer back: The Union shall be preserved, and made more precious by its consecration to Freedom.

NO POPULAR SOVEREIGNTY IN TERRITORIES CAN ESTABLISH SLAVERY.

Fellow-Citizens of Worcester:—

On my way to this place, my attention was attracted by a banner, flaunting over the highway, with these words: “Trust the People.” Nothing could be fairer or more seductive. In those simple words is embodied a principle, long unknown, and to this day often denied, which may be called the mainspring of Democratic institutions. Here is an implied assertion of the right of the people to govern themselves. And here also is an implied denial of all pretensions of Tyranny and Oligarchy. Such a principle, properly understood in its simplicity and just limitations, must find welcome in every Republican breast. Reading it on the banner, I responded with joy: “‘Trust the People,’ and Might will no longer make Right, Government everywhere will be founded upon the consent of the governed, and Slavery will become impossible!”

Studying the banner further, I found written above this fair device the names, “Douglas and Johnson.” And then I was saddened to see how here in Massachusetts a great principle of human rights is degraded to be a cover for the denial of all rights. Of course the principles of these two candidates are understood. Mr. Douglas, with vulgar insensibility to what is due to all who wear the human form, openly declares that “at the North he is for the white man against the nigger, but that further South he is for the nigger against the alligator,”—and in this spirit says, “Vote Slavery up or vote Slavery down”; and such is the Popular Sovereignty which he proclaims. Mr. Johnson, who is his associate, declares, in well-known words, that “Capital ought to own Labor,”—that is, that mechanics, workmen, and farmers, in fine, all who toil with hands, should be slaves; and this is the Popular Sovereignty which he proclaims. Surely this Douglas and Johnson Popular Sovereignty should rather be called Popular Tyranny. And here at the outset you will observe a wide distinction. Sovereignty is properly limited by right; Tyranny is without any limit except force. But when presented under the captivating device of “Trust the people,” its true character is concealed. It is the Devil radiant with the face of an angel. It is an apple of Sodom, fair to the eye, but dust and ashes to the touch.

There are few among us who avow themselves supporters of Douglas and Johnson; or if they do, they have ceased to look for success in the coming Presidential election, which seems to be practically decided already. I should not be justified, therefore, in occupying your time to-night in considering their cunning artifice, if it were represented only by Douglas and Johnson, against whom you all stand ready to vote. To argue against these candidates here in Massachusetts, and especially in Worcester County, is as superfluous as to argue against King George the Third, whose ideas of sovereignty were of the same tyrannical class, yet who was dead long ago.

But the same popular tyranny, misnamed Popular Sovereignty, upheld by these Presidential candidates, is also upheld by another candidate, now seeking your votes as Representative to Congress. Let me not do injustice to Mr. Thayer. I know well the points of difference between his theory and the theory of Douglas and Johnson; but I know also that in essential character they are identical,—so much so, that Mr. Douglas is reported to have hailed him, at the close of one of his speeches, as an authoritative expounder of the theory. The ancient Athenian, when praised in a certain quarter, exclaimed, “What bad thing have I done?” And Mr. Thayer, in earlier days, when doing so much for Freedom, would have been apt to turn from such praise with a similar exclamation.

It was natural that Mr. Douglas should praise him; for he gave the influence of character and ability to that pretension on which this reckless adventurer had staked his political fortunes. The fundamental principle of each is, that the question of Slavery in a distant Territory shall be taken from Congress and referred to the handful of squatters in the Territory, who, in the exercise of a sovereignty inherent in the people, and therefore called Popular Sovereignty, may “vote Slavery up or vote Slavery down.” Of course Mr. Thayer, thanks to his New England home, has too much good taste to put forth this pretension in the brutal form it often assumes, when advanced by Mr. Douglas. He does not say that he is “for the white man against the nigger and for the nigger against the alligator.” Perhaps the pretension becomes more dangerous because presented in more plausible form, and made part of a more comprehensive system. All that Mr. Douglas claims for the squatters, in the exercise of Popular Sovereignty, is power over Slavery, and other domestic institutions; while Mr. Thayer claims for them, besides this power, the power also to choose their own officers, instead of receiving them from Washington. But the essential distinctive pretension of each is, that the handful of squatters is exclusively entitled, in the exercise of Popular Sovereignty, to pass upon the question of Slavery in the Territories, and to vote it up or vote it down, without any intervention from Congress.

If this principle were asserted only with regard to a single Territory, or even with regard to a single county or a single town, it ought to be opposed as fallacious and unjust; but when asserted as a general principle applicable to all the Territories of the Republic, it must be resisted, not only as fallacious and unjust, but as fraught with consequences difficult to measure. Glance for one moment at the vast spaces which it would open to this mad conflict, and you will be awed by the immensity of the question.

According to official documents, the whole territorial extent of the United States, including States and Territories, embraces about three million square miles. This in itself is no inconsiderable portion of the earth’s surface. It is nearly ten times as large as Great Britain and France combined,—three times as large as the whole of France, Great Britain, Austria, Prussia, Spain, Portugal, Belgium, Holland, and Denmark together,—only a little less than the whole sixty Empires, States, and Republics of all Europe,—and of equal extent with the ancient Roman Empire, or the empire of Alexander, neither of which is said to have exceeded three million square miles. Of this vast area, about one half is now organized into States, leaving one million five hundred thousand square miles in the condition of outlying territory, whose future fortunes are involved in the decision of the present question.

If the subject assumes colossal proportions when we regard the extent of territory, it swells to yet grander form when we look at the population involved. The whole white population of the United States at the present moment amounts to 27,000,000. Supposing it to increase at the rate of 34 per cent in ten years, which may be inferred from the rate at which it has already increased, it will number in 1870, 36,000,000; in 1880, 48,000,000; in 1890, 64,000,000; in 1900, 85,000,000; in 1910, 113,000,000; in 1920, 151,000,000; in 1930, 202,000,000; in 1940, 270,000,000; in 1950, 361,000,000; and in 1960, just one hundred years from now, it will reach 483,000,000 of white freemen. Here we may well stop to take breath. Add to this white population 50,000,000 of colored population, whether free or slave, according to the supposed increase, and we shall have a sum-total of 533,000,000; and in two hundred years, with the same continuing rate of increase, our population will be ten times larger than that of the whole globe at the present hour.

This extraordinary multitude will not be confined to the present States. It will diffuse itself in every direction, covering all our territory as the waters cover the sea. Precisely how it will be distributed it is impossible to foreknow. But the tendency of population is Westward. The Eastern States are becoming stationary. Assuming that in 1960 the area now unoccupied will be settled at the rate of Massachusetts in 1850, which was 127 to the square mile, we shall then have on that territory a white population of 190,000,000. And the simple question is, Whether this enormous territory, with this enormous population, shall be exposed to all the accumulating evils of Slavery, with their hateful legacy, at the mere will of the handful of first settlers? According to a French proverb, “It is only the first step which costs,” and there is profound truth in this saying. In similar spirit the ancient Romans said, Obsta principiis, “Oppose beginnings.”

Never were these time-honored maxims more applicable than in the present case, when such prodigious results are involved. All experience shows that it takes very little Slavery to constitute a Slave State, and that Slavery, when once introduced, is most tenacious of existence. Mr. Lincoln, in one of his speeches, has aptly likened it to the Canada thistle, which, when once planted, extends with most injurious pertinacity. Others liken it to a cancer or vicious disease, which, when once in the system, corrupts the blood forever. It may be likened to a superstitious usage, which, when once established in the customs of a people, yields reluctantly to every effort against it. And yet Mr. Thayer wrests from Congress, representing the whole country, all power to prevent the introduction of this transcendent evil, and transfers the whole question to a handful of squatters, who are to act for the weal or woe of half a continent with teeming millions of population; and this is done in the name of Popular Sovereignty, as announced in the Declaration of Independence.

Fellow-citizens, I deny this pretension in every respect and at every point. I assert the power of Congress, founded on reason and precedent; and I assert the overwhelming necessity at this moment of exercising this unquestionable power. Guardians of this mighty territory, the destined home of untold millions, we must see that it is securely consecrated to the uses of Freedom, so that it cannot be pressed by the footsteps of a slave. For the moment we are performing the duty of conditores imperiorum, or founders of States, which Lord Bacon, in sententious wisdom, places foremost in honor, and calls a “primitive and heroical work.”[23] In the discharge of this duty, every power, every effort, every influence for Freedom should be invoked. The angel at the gates of Paradise, with flaming sword turning to every side, might be fitly summoned to guard this grand inheritance.

Not only do I assert this power, but I deny that sovereignty, when justly understood, has among its incidents the right to enslave our fellow-man. Mr. Thayer practically recognizes this incident; for he insists upon leaving the handful of squatters in the Territories to vote Slavery up or vote Slavery down without any intervention from Congress. And here is the vital question: Is there any such power incident to sovereignty?

And since the Declaration of Independence is invoked as authority for this new pretension, I shall bring it precisely to this touchstone. Bear with me, if I am tedious.

On the 4th of July, 1776, was put forth that great state paper, which constitutes an epoch of history. Its primary object was to dissolve the bonds which existed between the Colonies and the mother country. For this purpose a few positive words would have sufficed. But its authors were not content with this enunciation. Ascending far above the simple idea of National Independence, they made their Declaration an example to mankind, in two respects: first, as a Declaration of Human Rights; and, secondly, as an admission that the Sovereignty which they established was limited by Right.

In the first place, they declared “that all men are created equal; that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights; that among these are life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness”; and “that to secure these rights, governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.” Note well these words. Here was a Declaration of Natural Rights, the first ever put forth in history, unless we except the declaration only a few months earlier in Virginia. In England there have been Bills of Rights, beginning with Magna Charta, all declaring simply the rights of Englishmen, and all founded on concession and precedent. Now came a Declaration of the Rights of Man, not founded on concession or precedent, but founded on Nature. And this Declaration, though made the basis of the new government, was universal in application, so that people, wherever struggling for rights, have been cheered by its words.

There is another enunciation, by which the Declaration is equally memorable, although this feature has been less noticed. Certainly it has not been noticed by Mr. Thayer, or he would never venture to derive his pretension from a Declaration which positively excludes all such idea. Other governments, even those of the American Colonies, have been founded on force, and the sovereignty which they claimed was unlimited, so as to sanction Slavery. That I may not seem to make this statement hastily, pardon me, if I adduce two illustrative authorities. I refer first to Sir William Blackstone, the commentator on the Laws of England, who says: “There is and must be in all forms of government, however they began, or by what right soever they subsist, a supreme, irresistible, absolute, uncontrolled authority, in which the rights of sovereignty reside;”[24] and this power, which in England is attributed to Parliament, he calls in one place “that absolute despotic power which must in all governments reside somewhere.”[25] I refer also to the famous Dr. Johnson, who, in his tract entitled “Taxation no Tyranny,” openly says that “all government is ultimately and essentially absolute”; that “in sovereignty there are no gradations”; that “there must in every society be some power or other from which there is no appeal,” which “extends or contracts privileges, exempt itself from question or control, and bounded only by physical necessity.”[26]

In the face of these contemporary authorities, one an eminent jurist, and the other an eminent moralist, both well known to our fathers, and in the face of all traditions of government, the Declaration of Independence disclaimed all despotic, absolute, or unlimited power, and voluntarily brought the new sovereignty within the circumscription of Right. Not content with declaring that the rights to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness are inalienable, and therefore beyond the control of any sovereignty, the Declaration went further, and, by abnegation worthy of perpetual honor, solemnly restrained the new sovereignty,—simply claiming for it the “power to do all acts and things which independent states may OF RIGHT do.” Even had this express limitation been omitted, no such incident of sovereignty as that asserted by Mr. Thayer could be derived from an instrument containing those words with which the Declaration begins; but with these latter words of special limitation, the pretension becomes absurd.

Such, fellow-citizens, is the Popular Sovereignty of the Declaration of Independence, drawing its life, first, from the inalienable Rights of Man, and then, by positive words, restrained to what is Right. And this is the Popular Sovereignty which, lifting the down-trodden and trampling on tyrants,—now gentle as Charity, and then terrible as an army with banners,—is destined to make the tour of the world, rendering Slavery everywhere impossible.

Of this Popular Sovereignty I have spoken on another occasion,[27] and I refrain with difficulty from repeating now what I said then, partly because I believe so completely in its truth and rejoice in its utterance, but more because I learn that it has been wrested from its place to cover the Popular Tyranny, misnamed Popular Sovereignty, which Mr. Thayer so ardently vindicates.

How strange that words which hail the Angel of Human Liberation, with Liberty and Equality in her glorious train, should be invoked in support of a wicked tyranny, which, in the name of Popular Sovereignty, makes merchandise of our fellow-man! Face to face against this wretched pretension I put the true Popular Sovereignty, with Liberty and Equality for all, guarded and surrounded by the impassable limitation of Right, which is the god Terminus, never to be overthrown. Within these great precincts there can be no Slavery, nor can there be any denial of Equal Rights. How, then, can any man, in the name of Popular Sovereignty, vote another to be a slave? How, then, can any man, in this name, assert property in his fellow-man? By what excuse, with what reason, on what argument can any such thing be done, without first denying all that is true and sacred? Liberty, which is the active principle of Popular Sovereignty,—Equality, which is twin sister of Liberty,—and Justice, which sets bounds to all that men do on earth,—these are the irresistible enemies of Slavery, each and all of which must be trampled out by any rule under which man can be made a slave. But these, each and all, constitute that Popular Sovereignty which is the glory of our institutions. Anything else calling itself by this great name is a mockery and a sham, fit only for hissing and scorn.

The Declaration of Independence gave dignity to our Revolutionary contest, and made it a landmark of human progress. Here, at last, the rights of man were proclaimed, and a government was organized in subjection to the sovereign rule of Right. The people, while lifting themselves to the duties of sovereignty, bowed before that overruling sovereignty whose seat is the bosom of God. Such an example became at once a guide to mankind. It was copied in France, under the lead of Lafayette; and there is no people struggling for Right in either hemisphere who have not felt its inspiration. And yet this Declaration, standing highest among the historic landmarks of our country, is now assailed and dishonored.

It is assailed and dishonored, first, by denial of these natural rights which it so gloriously declares. This is done often with a jeer. Forgetful that these rights were divinely established at the very Creation, when God said, “Let us make man in our image,” and then again in the Gospel, when it was said, “God hath made of one blood all nations of men,”—forgetful that these rights are stamped by Nature on all who wear the human form,—forgetful also that they belong to those self-evident truths, sometimes called axioms, which are universal in their application, as the axiom in arithmetic that two and two make four, and the axiom in geometry that a straight line is the shortest distance between two points,—forgetful of the true glory of our country, these primal truths are sometimes scouted as “absurd,” sometimes as “splendid generalities,” and sometimes as a “self-evident lie.” This assault, though proceeding from various voices, originated with Mr. Calhoun. He is its first author.

And now, secondly, the Declaration is assailed and dishonored by the claim, that men, in the exercise of sovereignty derived from the Declaration, may set up on an auction-block their fellow-men, if to them it seems fit, and that this power is an incident of Popular Sovereignty. This pretension, first put forth by General Cass, in 1847, when a Presidential candidate,[28] and now revived by Mr. Douglas, who peddles it throughout the country, is also practically adopted by Mr. Thayer, as part of his peculiar Territorial policy. Such a pretension is hardly less degrading to the Declaration than the open mockery of its primal truths by Mr. Calhoun. The latter, as is well known, denied the sovereignty of the people in the Territories, but he agreed, heart and soul, in the pretension that the right to enslave a fellow-man is an incident of sovereignty, wherever it exists.

Thus do these two assaults upon the Declaration practically proceed from one source. In their essential ideas they are Calhounism.

On the other side is arrayed a name illustrious for various public service, and for unsurpassed championship of Freedom: I mean John Quincy Adams. Entering the House of Representatives after a long life, at home and abroad, as Senator, as Minister, as Secretary of State, and finally as President, he added to all these titles by the ability and constancy with which he upheld the Rights of Man. Mr. Calhoun was at this time in the Senate; but Mr. Adams incessantly met all his assumptions for Slavery,—exposing its hateful character, insisting upon its prohibition in the Territories, and especially vindicating the Declaration of Independence. Never has the recent pretension, in the name of Popular Sovereignty, been more completely anticipated and exposed. And now, that this argument may not stand entirely upon my words, I quote from him. Says John Quincy Adams, in his oration on the Fourth of July, 1831, at Quincy:—