Sir, that part of the proposed Constitution which gives the general government the power of laying and collecting taxes, is indispensable and essential to the existence of any efficient, or well organized system of government: if we consult reason, and be ruled by its dictates, we shall find its justification there: if we review the experience we have had, or contemplate the history of nations, there too we shall find ample reasons to prove its expediency. It would be preposterous to depend for necessary supplies on a body which is fully possessed of the power of withholding them. If a government depends on other governments for its revenues; if it must depend on the voluntary contributions of its members, its existence must be precarious. A government that relies on thirteen independent sovereignties for the means of its existence, is a solecism in theory, and a mere nullity in practice. Is it consistent with reason, that such a government can promote the happiness of any people? It is subversive of every principle of sound policy, to trust the safety of a community with a government totally destitute of the means of protecting itself or its members. Can Congress, after the repeated unequivocal proofs it has experienced of the utter inutility and inefficacy of requisitions, reasonably expect that they would be hereafter effectual or productive?

Will not the same local interests, and other causes, militate against a compliance? Whoever hopes the contrary must for ever be disappointed. The effect, sir, cannot be changed without a removal of the cause. Let each county in this commonwealth be supposed free and independent: let your revenues depend on requisitions of proportionate quotas from them: let application be made to them repeatedly, and then ask yourself, is it to be presumed that they would comply, or that an adequate collection could be made from partial compliances? It is now difficult to collect the taxes from them: how much would that difficulty be enhanced, were you to depend solely on their generosity? I appeal to the reason of every gentleman here, and to his candor, to say whether he is not persuaded that the present confederation is as feeble as the government of Virginia would be in that case; to the same reason I appeal, whether it be compatible with prudence to continue a government of such manifest and palpable weakness and inefficiency.



II. — CONSTITUTIONAL GOVERNMENT.

Constitutional government in the United States began, in its national phase, with the inauguration of Washington, but the experiment was for a long time a doubtful one. Of the two parties, the federal and the anti-federal parties, which had faced one another on the question of the adoption of the Constitution, the latter had disappeared. Its conspicuous failure to achieve the fundamental object of its existence, and the evident hopelessnesss of reversing its failure in future, blotted it out of existence. There was left but one party, the federal party; and it, strong as it appeared, was really in almost as precarious a position as its former opponent, because of the very completeness of its success in achieving its fundamental object. Hamilton and Jefferson, two of its representative members, were opposed in almost all the political instincts of their natures; the former chose the restraints of strong government as instinctively as the latter clung to individualism. They had been accidentally united for the time in desiring the adoption of the Constitution, though Hamilton considered it only a temporary shift for something stronger, while Jefferson wished for a bill of rights to weaken the force of some of its implications. Now that the Constitution was ratified, what tie was there to hold these two to any united action for the future? Nothing but a shadow—the name of a party not yet two years old. As soon, therefore, as the federal party fairly entered upon a secure tenure of power, the divergent instincts of the two classes represented by Hamilton and Jefferson began to show themselves more distinctly until there was no longer any pretence of party unity, and the democratic (or republican) party assumed its place, in 1792-3, as the recognized opponent of the party in power. It would be beside the purpose to attempt to enumerate the points in which the natural antagonism of the federalists and the republicans came to the surface during the decade of contest which ended in the downfall of the federal party in 1800-1. In all of them, in the struggles over the establishment of the Bank of the United States and the assumption of the State debts, in the respective sympathy for France and Great Britain, in the strong federalist legislation forced through during the war feeling against France in 1798, the controlling sympathy of the republicans for individualism and of the federalists for a strong national government is constantly visible, if looked for. The difficulty is that these permanent features are often so obscured by the temporary media in which they appear that the republicans are likely to be taken as a merely State-rights party, and the federalists as a merely commercial party.

To adopt either of these notions would be to take a very erroneous idea of American political history. The whole policy of the republicans was to forward the freedom of the individual; their leader seems to have made all other points subordinate to this. There is hardly any point in which the action of the individual American has been freed from governmental restraints, from ecclesiastical government, from sumptuary laws, from restrictions on suffrage, from restrictions on commerce, production, and exchange, for which he is not indebted in some measure to the work and teaching of Jefferson between the years of 1790 and 1800. He and his party found the States in existence, understood well that they were convenient shields for the individual against the possible powers of the new federal government for evil, and made use of them. The State sovereignty of Jefferson was the product of individualism; that of Calhoun was the product of sectionalism.

On the other hand, if Jeffersonian democracy was the representative of all the individualistic tendencies of the later science of political economy, Hamiltonian federalism represented the necessary corrective force of law. It was in many respects a strong survival of colonialism. Together with some of the evil features of colonialism, its imperative demands for submission to class government, its respect for the interests and desires of the few, and its contempt for those of the many, it had brought into American constitutional life a very high ratio of that respect for law which alone can render the happiness and usefulness of the individual a permanent and secure possession. It was impossible for federalism to resist the individualistic tendency of the country for any length of time; it is the monument of the party that it secured, before it fell, abiding guaranties for the security of the individual under freedom.

The genius of the federalists was largely practical. It was shown in their masterly organization of the federal government when it was first entrusted to their hands, an organization which has since been rather developed than disturbed in any of its parts. But the details of the work absorbed the attention of the leaders so completely that it would be impossible to fix on any public address as entirely representative of the party. Fisher Ames' speech on the Jay treaty, which was considered by the federalists the most effective piece of oratory in their party history, has been taken as a substitute. The question was to the federalists partly of commercial and partly of national importance. John Jay had secured the first commercial treaty with Great Britain in 1795. It not only provided for the security of American commerce during the European wars to which Great Britain was a party, and obtained the surrender of the military posts in the present States of Ohio and Michigan; it also gave the United States a standing in the family of nations which it was difficult to claim elsewhere while Great Britain continued to refuse to treat on terms of equality. The Senate therefore ratified the treaty, and it was constitutionally complete. The democratic majority in the House of Representatives, objecting to the treaty as a surrender of previous engagements with France, and as a failure to secure the rights of individuals against Great Britain, particularly in the matter of impressment, raised the point that the House was not bound to vote money for carrying into effect a treaty with which it was seriously dissatisfied. The speech of Gallatin has been selected to represent the republican view. It is a strong reflection of the opposition to the Treaty. The reply of Ames is a forcible presentation of both the national and the commercial aspects of his party; it had a very great influence in securing, though by a very narrow majority, the vote of the House in favor of the appropriation.

There is some difficulty in fixing on any completely representative oration to represent the republican point of view covering this period. Gallatin's speech on the Jay Treaty together with Nicholas' argument for the repeal of the sedition law may serve this purpose. The speech of Nicholas shows the instinctive sympathy of the party for the individual rather than for the government. It shows the force with which this sympathy drove the party into a strict construction of the Constitution. It seems also to bear the strongest internal indications that it was inspired, if not entirely written, by the great leader of the party, Jefferson. The federalists had used the popular war feeling against France in 1798, not only to press the formation of an army and a navy and the abrogation of the old and trouble-some treaties with France, but to pass the alien and sedition laws as well. The former empowered the President to expel from the country or imprison any alien whom he should consider dangerous to the peace and safety of the United States. The latter forbade, under penalty of fine and imprisonment, the printing or publishing of any "false, scandalous, or malicious writings" calculated to bring the Government, Congress, or the President into disrepute, or to excite against them the hatred of the good people of the United States, or to stir up sedition. It was inevitable that the republicans should oppose such laws, and that the people should support them in their opposition. At the election of 1800, the federal party was overthrown, and the lost ground was never regained. With Jefferson's election to the presidency, began the democratic period of the United States; but it has always been colored strongly and naturally by the federal bias toward law and order.



ALBERT GALLATIN,

OF PENNSYLVANIA. (BORN 1761, DIED 1849.)



ON THE BRITISH TREATY

—HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, APRIL 26, 1796.

MR. CHAIRMAN:

I will not follow some of the gentlemen who have preceded me, by dwelling upon the discretion of the legislature; a question which has already been the subject of our deliberations, and been decided by a solemn vote. Gentle-men who were in the minority on that question may give any construction they please to the declaratory resolution of the House; they may again repeat that to refuse to carry the treaty into effect is a breach of the public faith which they conceive as being pledged by the President and Senate. This has been the ground on which a difference of opinion has existed since the beginning of the discussion. It is because the House thinks that the faith of the nation cannot, on those subjects submitted to the power of Congress, be pledged by any constituted authority other than the legislature, that they resolved that in all such cases it is their right and duty to consider the expediency of carrying a treaty into effect. If the House think the faith of the nation already pledged they can not claim any discretion; there is no room left to deliberate upon the expediency of the thing. The resolution now under consideration is merely "that it is expedient to carry the British treaty into effect," and not whether we are bound by national faith to do it. I will therefore consider the question of expediency alone; and thinking as I do that the House has full discretion on this subject, I conceive that there is as much responsibility in deciding in the affirmative as in rejecting the resolution, and that we shall be equally answerable for the consequences that may follow from either.

It is true, however, that there was a great difference between the situation of this country in the year 1794, when a negotiator was appointed, and that in which we are at present; and that consequences will follow the refusal to carry into effect the treaty in its present stage, which would not have attended a refusal to negotiate and to enter into such a treaty. The question of expediency, therefore, assumes before us a different and more complex shape than when before the negotiator, the Senate, or the President. The treaty, in itself and abstractedly considered, may be injurious; it may be such an instrument as in the opinion of the House ought not to have been adopted by the Executive; and yet such as it is we may think it expedient under the present circumstances to carry it into effect. I will therefore first take a view of the provisions of the treaty itself, and in the next place, supposing it is injurious, consider, in case it is not carried into effect, what will be the natural consequences of such refusal.

The provisions of the treaty relate either to the adjustment of past differences, or to the future intercourse of the two nations. The differences now existing between Great Britain and this country arose either from non-execution of some articles of the treaty of peace or from the effects of the present European war. The complaints of Great Britain in relation to the treaty of 1783 were confined to the legal impediments thrown by the several States in the way of the recovery of British debts. The late treaty provides adequate remedy on that subject; the United States are bound to make full and complete compensation for any losses arising from that source, and every ground of complaint on the part of Great Britain is removed.

Having thus done full justice to the other nation, America has a right to expect that equal attention shall be paid to her claims arising from infractions of the treaty of peace, viz., compensation for the negroes carried away by the British; restoration of the western posts, and indemnification for their detention.

On the subject of the first claim, which has been objected to as groundless, I will observe that I am not satisfied that the construction given by the British government to that article of the treaty is justified even by the letter of the article. That construction rests on the supposition that slaves come under the general denomination of booty, and are alienated the moment they fall into possession of an enemy, so that all those who were in the hands of the British when the treaty of peace was signed, must be considered as British and not as American property, and are not included in the article. It will, however, appear by recurring to Vattel when speaking of the right of "Postliminium," that slaves cannot be considered as a part of the booty which is alienated by the act of capture, and that they are to be ranked rather with real property, to the profits of which only the captors are entitled. Be that as it may, there is no doubt that the construction given by America is that which was understood by the parties at the time of making the treaty. The journals of Mr. Adams, quoted by a gentleman from Connecticut, Mr. Coit, prove this fully; for when he says that the insertion of this article was alone worth the journey of Mr. Laurens from London, can it be supposed that he would have laid so much stress on a clause, which, according to the new construction now attempted to be given, means only that the British would commit no new act of hostility—would not carry away slaves at that time in possession of Americans? Congress recognized that construction by adopting the resolution which has been already quoted, and which was introduced upon the motion of Mr. Alexander Hamilton; and it has not been denied that the British ministry during Mr. Adams' embassy also agreed to it.

But when our negotiator had, for the sake of peace, waived that claim; when he had also abandoned the right which America had to demand an indemnification for the detention of the posts, although he had conceded the right of a similar nature, which Great Britain had for the detention of debts; when he had thus given up everything which might be supposed to be of a doubtful nature, it might have been hoped that our last claim—a claim on which there was not and there never had been any dispute—the western posts should have been restored according to the terms of the treaty of peace. Upon what ground the British insisted, and our negotiator conceded, that this late restitution should be saddled with new conditions, which made no part of the original contract, I am at a loss to know. British traders are allowed by the new treaty to remain within the posts without becoming citizens of the United States; and to carry on trade and commerce with the Indians living within our boundaries without being subject to any control from our government. In vain is it said that if that clause had not been inserted we would have found it to our interest to effect it by our own laws. Of this we are alone competent judges; if that condition is harmless at present it is not possible to foresee whether, under future circumstances, it will not prove highly injurious; and whether harmless or not, it is not less a permanent and new condition imposed upon us. But the fact is, that by the introduction of that clause, by obliging us to keep within our jurisdiction, as British subjects, the very men who have been the instruments used by Great Britain to promote Indian wars on our frontiers; by obliging us to suffer those men to continue their commerce with the Indians living in our territory, uncontrolled by those regulations which we have thought necessary in order to restrain our own citizens in their intercourse with these tribes, Great Britain has preserved her full influence with the Indian nations. By a restoration of the posts under that condition we have lost the greatest advantage that was expected from their possession, viz.: future security against the Indians. In the same manner have the British preserved the commercial advantages which result from the occupancy of those posts, by stipulating as a permanent condition, a free passage for their goods across our portages without paying any duty.

Another article of the new treaty which is connected with the provisions of the treaty of 1783 deserves consideration; I mean what relates to the Mississippi. At the time when the navigation of that river to its mouth was by the treaty of peace declared to be common to both nations, Great Britain communicated to America a right which she held by virtue of the treaty of 1763, and as owner of the Floridas; but since that cession to the United States, England has ceded to Spain her claim on the Floridas, and does not own at the present time an inch of ground, either on the mouth or on any part of that river. Spain now stands in the place of Great Britain, and by virtue of the treaty of 1783 it is to Spain and America, and not to England and America, that the navigation of the Mississippi is at present to be common. Yet, notwithstanding this change of circumstances, we have repeated that article of the former treaty in the late one, and have granted to Great Britain the additional privilege of using our ports on the eastern side of the river, without which, as they own no land thereon, they could not have navigated it. Nor is this all. Upon a supposition that the Mississippi does not extend so far northward as to be intersected by a line drawn due west from the Lake of the Woods, or, in other words, upon a supposition that Great Britain has not a claim even to touch the Mississippi, we have agreed, not upon what will be the boundary line, but that we will hereafter negotiate to settle that line. Thus leaving to future negotiation what should have been finally settled by the treaty itself, in the same manner as all other differences were, is calculated for the sole purpose, either of laying the foundation of future disputes, or of recognizing a claim in Great Britain on the waters of the Mississippi, even if their boundary line leaves to the southward the sources of that river. Had not that been the intention of Great Britain the line would have been settled at once by the treaty, according to either of the two only rational ways of doing it in conformity to the treaty of 1783, that is to say, by agreeing that the line should run from the northernmost sources of the Mississippi, either directly to the western extremity of the Lake of the Woods, or northwardly till it intersected the line to be drawn due west from that lake. But by repeating the article of the treaty of 1783; by conceding the free use of our ports on the river, and by the insertion of the fourth article, we have admitted that Great Britain, in all possible events, has still a right to navigate that river from its source to its mouth. What may be the future effects of these provisions, especially as they regard our intercourse with Spain, it is impossible at present to say; but although they can bring us no advantage, they may embroil us with that nation: and we have already felt the effect of it in our late treaty with Spain, since we were obliged, on account of that clause of the British treaty, to accept as a gift and a favor the navigation of that river which we had till then claimed as a right.

But if, leaving commercial regulations, we shall seek in the treaty for some provisions securing to us the free navigation of the ocean against any future aggressions on our trade, where are they to be found? I can add nothing to what has been said on the subject of contraband articles: it is, indeed, self-evident, that, connecting our treaty with England on that subject with those we have made with other nations, it amounts to a positive compact to supply that nation exclusively with naval stores whenever they may be at war. Had the list of contraband articles been reduced—had naval stores and provisions, our two great staple commodities, been declared not to be contra-band, security would have been given to the free exportation of our produce; but instead of any provision being made on that head, an article of a most doubtful nature, and on which I will remark hereafter, has been introduced. But I mean, for the present, to confine my observations to the important question of free bottoms making free goods. It was with the utmost astonishment that I heard the doctrine advanced on this floor, that such a provision, if admitted, would prove injurious to America, inasmuch as in case of war between this country and any other nation, the goods of that nation might be protected by the English flag. It is not to a state of war that the benefits of this provision would extend; but it is the only security which neutral nations can have against the legal plundering on the high seas, so often committed by belligerent powers. It is not for the sake of protecting an enemy's property; it is not for the sake of securing an advantageous carrying trade; but it is in order effectually to secure ourselves against sea aggressions, that this provision is necessary. Spoliations may arise from unjust orders, given by the government of a belligerent nation to their officers and cruisers, and these may be redressed by application to and negotiation with that order. But no complaints, no negotiations, no orders of government itself, can give redress when those spoliations are grounded on a supposition, that the vessels of the neutral nation have an enemy's property on board, as long as such property is not protected by the flag of the neutral nation; as long as it is liable to be captured, it is not sufficient, in order to avoid detention and capture, to have no such property on board. Every privateer, under pretence that he suspects an enemy's goods to be part of a cargo, may search, vex, and capture a vessel; and if in any corner of the dominions of the belligerent power, a single judge can be found inclined, if not determined, to condemn, at all events, before his tribunal, all vessels so captured will be brought there, and the same pretence which caused the capture will justify a condemnation. The only nation who persists in the support of this doctrine, as making part of the law of nations, is the first maritime power of Europe, whom their interest, as they are the strongest, and as there is hardly a maritime war in which they are not involved, leads to wish for a continuation of a custom which gives additional strength to their overbearing dominion over the seas. All the other nations have different sentiments and a different interest. During the American war, in the year 1780, so fully convinced were the neutral nations of the necessity of introducing that doctrine of free bottoms making free goods, that all of them, excepting Portugal, who was in a state of vassalage to, and a mere appendage of, Great Britain, united in order to establish the principle, and formed for that purpose the alliance known by the name of the armed neutrality. All the belligerent powers, except England, recognized and agreed to the doctrine. England itself was obliged, in some measure, to give, for a while, a tacit acquiescence. America, at the time, fully admitted the principle, although then at war.

Since the year 1780, every nation, so far as my knowledge goes, has refused to enter into a treaty of commerce with England, unless that provision was inserted. Russia, for that reason, would not renew their treaty, which had expired in 1786; although I believe that, during the present war, and in order to answer the ends of the war, they formed a temporary convention, which I have not seen, but which, perhaps, does not include that provision. England consented to it in her treaty with France, in 1788, and we are the first neutral nation who has abandoned the common cause, given up the claim, and by a positive declaration inserted in our treaty, recognized the contrary doctrine. It has been said that, under the present circumstances, it could not be expected that Great Britain would give up the point; perhaps so; but the objection is not, that our negotiator has not been able to obtain that principle, but that he has consented to enter into a treaty of commerce which we do not want, and which has no connection with an adjustment of our differences with Great Britain, without the principle contended for making part of that treaty. Unless we can obtain security for our navigation, we want no treaty; and the only provision which can give us that security, should have been the sine qua non of a treaty. On the contrary, we have disgusted all the other neutral nations of Europe, without whose concert and assistance there is but little hope that we shall ever obtain that point; and we have taught Great Britain that we are disposed to form the most intimate connections with her, even at the expense of recognizing a principle the most fatal to the liberty of commerce and to the security of our navigation.

But, if we could not obtain anything which might secure us against future aggressions, should we have parted, without receiving any equivalent, with those weapons of self-defence, which, although they could not repel, might, in some degree, prevent any gross attacks upon our trade—any gross violation of our rights as a neutral nation? We have no fleet to oppose or to punish the insults of Great Britain; but, from our commercial relative situation, we have it in our power to restrain her aggressions, by restrictions on her trade, by a total prohibition of her manufactures, or by a sequestration of the debts due to her. By the treaty, not satisfied with receiving nothing, not satisfied with obtaining no security for the future, we have, of our own accord, surrendered those defensive arms, for fear they might be abused by ourselves. We have given up the two first, for the whole time during which we might want them most, the period of the present war; and the last, the power of sequestration, we have abandoned for ever: every other article of the treaty of commerce is temporary; this perpetual.

I shall not enter into a discussion of the immorality of sequestering private property. What can be more immoral than war; or plundering on the high seas, legalized under the name of privateering? Yet self-defence justifies the first, and the necessity of the case may, at least in some instances, and where it is the only practicable mode of warfare left to a nation, apologize even for the last. In the same manner, the power of sequestration may be resorted to, as the last weapon of self-defence, rather than to seek redress by an appeal to arms. It is the last peace measure that can be taken by a nation; but the treaty, by declaring, that in case of national differences it shall not be resorted to, has deprived us of the power of judging of its propriety, has rendered it an act of hostility, and has effectually taken off that restraint, which a fear of its exercise laid upon Great Britain.

Thus it appears that by the treaty we have promised full compensation to England for every possible claim they may have against us, that we have abandoned every claim of a doubtful nature, and that we have consented to receive the posts, our claim to which was not disputed, under new conditions and restrictions never before contemplated; that after having obtained by those concessions an adjustment of past differences, we have entered into a new agreement, unconnected with those objects, which have heretofore been subjects of discussion between the two nations; and that by this treaty of commerce and navigation, we have obtained no commercial advantage which we did not enjoy before, we have obtained no security against future aggressions, no security in favor of the freedom of our navigation, and we have parted with every pledge we had in our hands, with every power of restriction, with every weapon of self-defence which is calculated to give us any security.

From the review I have taken of the treaty, and the opinions I have expressed, it is hardly necessary for me to add, that I look upon the instrument as highly injurious to the interests of the United States, and that I earnestly wish it never had been made; but whether in its present stage the House ought to refuse to carry it into effect, and what will be the probable consequences of a refusal, is a question which requires the most serious attention, and which I will now attempt to investigate.

Should the treaty be finally defeated, either new negotiations will be more successful or Great Britain will refuse to make a new arrangement, and leave things in the situation in which they now are, or war will be the consequence. I will, in the course of my observations, make some remarks on the last supposition. I do not think that the first will be very probable at present, and I am of opinion that, under the present circumstances, and until some change takes place in our own or in the relative political situation of the European nations, it is to be apprehended that, in such a case, new negotiations will either be rejected or prove unsuccessful. Such an event might have perhaps followed a rejection of the treaty even by the Senate or by the President. After the negotiator employed by the United States had once affixed his signature it must have become very problematical, unless he had exceeded his powers, whether a refusal to sanction the contract he had made would not eventually defeat, at least for a time, the prospect of a new treaty. I conceive that the hopes of obtaining better conditions by a new negotiation are much less in the present stage of the business than they were when the treaty was in its inchoate form before the Executive; and in order to form a just idea of the consequences of a rejection at present, I will contemplate them upon this supposition, which appears to me most probable, to wit, that no new treaty will take place for a certain period of time.

In mentioning my objections to the treaty itself, I have already stated the advantages which in my opinion would result to the United States from the non-existence of that instrument; I will not repeat, but proceed at once to examine what losses may accrue that can be set off against those advantages.

The further detention of the posts, the national stain that will result from receiving no reparation for the spoliations on our trade, and the uncertainty of a final adjustment of our differences with Great Britain, are the three evils which strike me as resulting from a rejection of the treaty; and when to those considerations I add that of the present situation of this country, of the agitation of the public mind, and of the advantages that will arise from union of sentiments, however injurious and unequal I conceive the treaty to be, however repugnant it may be to my feelings, and perhaps to my prejudices, I feel induced to vote for it, and will not give my assent to any proposition which will imply its rejection. But the conduct of Great Britain since the treaty was signed, the impressment of our seamen, and their uninterrupted spoliations on our trade, especially by seizing our vessels laden with provisions, a proceeding which they may perhaps justify by one of the articles of the treaty, are such circumstances as may induce us to pause awhile, in order to examine whether it is proper, immediately and without having obtained any explanation thereon, to adopt the resolution on the table, and to pass, at present, all the laws necessary to carry the treaty into effect.

Whatever evils may follow a rejection of the treaty, they will not attend a postponement. To suspend our proceedings will not throw us into a situation which will require new negotiations, new arrangements on the points already settled and well understood by both parties. It will be merely a delay, until an explanation of the late conduct of the British towards us may be obtained, or until that conduct may be altered. If, on the contrary, we consent to carry the treaty into effect, under the present circumstances, what will be our situation in future? It is by committing the most wanton and the most unprovoked aggressions on our trade; it is by seizing a large amount of our property as a pledge for our good behavior, that Great Britain has forced the nation into the present treaty. If by threatening new hostilities, or rather by continuing her aggressions, even after the treaty is made, she can force us also to carry it into effect, our acquiescence will be tantamount to a declaration that we mean to submit in proportion to the insults that are offered to us; and this disposition being once known, what security have we against new insults, new aggressions, new spoliations, which probably will lay the foundation of some additional sacrifices on ours? It has been said, and said with truth, that to put up with the indignities we have received without obtaining any reparation, which will probably be the effect of defeating the treaty, is highly dishonorable to the nation.

In my opinion it is still more so not only tamely to submit to a continuation of these national insults, but while they thus continue uninterrupted, to carry into effect the instrument we have consented to accept as a reparation for former ones. When the general conduct of Great Britain towards us from the beginning of the present war is considered; when the means by which she has produced the treaty are reflected on, a final compliance on our part while she still persists in that conduct, whilst the chastening rod of that nation is still held over us, is in my opinion a dereliction of national interest, of national honor, of national independence.

But it is said, that war must be the consequence of our delaying to carry the treaty into effect. Do the gentlemen mean, that if we reject the treaty, if we do not accept the reparation there given to us, in order to obtain redress, we have no alternative left but war? If we must go to war in order to obtain reparation for insults and spoliations on our trade, we must do it, even if we carry the present treaty into effect; for this treaty gives us no reparation for the aggressions committed since it was ratified, has not produced a discontinuance of those acts of hostility, and gives us no security that they shall be discontinued. But the arguments of those gentlemen, who suppose that America must go to war, apply to a final rejection of the treaty, and not to a delay. I do not propose to refuse the reparation offered by the treaty, and to put up with the aggressions committed; I have agreed that that reparation, such as it is, is a valuable article of the treaty; I have agreed, that under the present circumstances, a greater evil will follow a total rejection of, than an acquiescence in, the treaty. The only measure which has been mentioned, in preference to the one now under discussion, is a suspension, a postponement, whilst the present spoliations continue, in hopes to obtain for them a similar reparation, and assurances that they shall cease.

But is it meant to insinuate that it is the final intention of those who pretend to wish only for a postponement, to involve this country in a war? There has been no period during the present European war, at which it would not have been equally weak and wicked to adopt such measures as must involve America in the contest, unless forced into it for the sake of self-defence; but, at this time, to think of it would fall but little short of madness. The whole American nation would rise in opposition to the idea; and it might at least have been recollected, that war can not be declared, except by Congress, and that two of the branches of government are sufficient to check the other in any supposed attempt of this kind.

If there is no necessity imposed upon America to go to war, if there is no apprehension she will, by her own conduct, involve herself in one, the danger must arise from Great Britain, and the threat is, that she will make war against us if we do not comply. Gentlemen first tell us that we have made the best possible bargain with that nation; that she has conceded everything, without receiving a single iota in return, and yet they would persuade us, that she will make war against us in order to force us to accept that contract so advantageous to us, and so injurious to herself. It will not be contended that a delay, until an amicable explanation is obtained, could afford even a pretence to Great Britain for going to war; and we all know that her own interest would prevent her. If another campaign takes place, it is acknowledged, that all her efforts are to be exerted against the West Indies. She has proclaimed her own scarcity of provisions at home, and she must depend on our supplies to support her armament. It depends upon us to defeat her whole scheme, and this is a sufficient pledge against open hostility, if the European war continues. If peace takes place, there will not be even the appearance of danger; the moment when a nation is happy enough to emerge from one of the most expensive, bloody, and dangerous wars in which she ever has been involved, will be the last she would choose to plunge afresh into a similar calamity.

But to the cry of war, the alarmists do not fail to add that of confusion; and they have declared, even on this floor, that if the resolution is not adopted government will be dissolved. Government dissolved in case a postponement takes place! The idea is too absurd to deserve a direct answer. But I will ask those gentlemen, by whom is government to be dissolved? Certainly not by those who may vote against the resolution; for although they are not perhaps fortunate enough to have obtained the confidence of the gentlemen who voted against them, still it must be agreed, that those who succeed in their wishes, who defeat a measure they dislike, will not wish to destroy that government, which they hold so far in their hands as to be able to carry their own measures. For them to dissolve government, would be to dissolve their own power. By whom, then, I again ask, is the government to be dissolved? The gentlemen must answer—by themselves—or they must declare that they mean nothing but to alarm. Is it really the language of those men, who profess to be, who distinguish themselves by the self-assumed appellation of friends to order, that if they do not succeed in all their measures they will overset government—and have all their professions been only a veil to hide their love of power, a pretence to cover their ambition? Do they mean, that the first event which shall put an end to their own authority shall be the last act of government? As to myself, I do not believe that they have such intentions; I have too good an opinion of their patriotism to allow myself to admit such an idea a single moment; but I think myself justifiable in entertaining a belief, that some amongst them, in order to carry a favorite, and what they think to be an advantageous measure, mean to spread an alarm which they do not feel; and I have no doubt, that many have contracted such a habit of carrying every measure of government as they please, that they really think that every thing must be thrown into confusion the moment they are thwarted in a matter of importance. I hope that experience will in future cure their fears. But, at all events, be the wishes and intentions of the members of this House what they may, it is not in their power to dissolve the government. The people of the United States, from one end of the continent to the other, are strongly attached to their Constitution; they would restrain and punish the excesses of any party, of any set of men in government, who would be guilty of the attempt; and on them I will rest as a full security against every endeavor to destroy our Union, our Constitution, or our government.

If the people of the United States wish this House to carry the treaty into effect immediately, and notwithstanding the continued aggressions of the British, if their will was fairly and fully expressed, I would immediately acquiesce; but since an appeal has been made to them, it is reasonable to suspend a decision until their sentiments are known. Till then I must follow my own judgment; and as I cannot see that any possible evils will follow a delay, I shall vote against the resolution before the committee, in order to make room, either for that proposed by my colleague, Mr. Maclay, or for any other, expressed in any manner whatever, provided it embraces the object I have in view, to wit, the suspension of the final vote—a postponement of the laws necessary to carry the treaty into effect, until satisfactory assurances are obtained that Great Britain means, in future, to show us that friendly disposition which it is my earnest wish may at all times be cultivated by America towards all other nations.



FISHER AMES,

OF MASSACHUSETTS. (BORN 1758, DIED 1808.)

ON THE BRITISH TREATY, HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, APRIL 28, 1796.

It would be strange, that a subject, which has aroused in turn all the passions of the country, should be discussed without the interference of any of our own. We are men, and therefore not exempt from those passions; as citizens and representatives, we feel the interests that must excite them. The hazard of great interests cannot fail to agitate strong passions. We are not disinterested; it is impossible we should be dispassionate. The warmth of such feelings may becloud the judgment, and, for a time, pervert the understanding. But the public sensibility, and our own, has sharpened the spirit of inquiry, and given an animation to the debate. The public attention has been quickened to mark the progress of the discussion, and its judgment, often hasty and erroneous on first impressions, has become solid and enlightened at last. Our result will, I hope, on that account, be safer and more mature, as well as more accordant with that of the nation. The only constant agents in political affairs are the passions of men. Shall we complain of our nature—shall we say that man ought to have been made otherwise? It is right already, because He, from whom we derive our nature, ordained it so; and because thus made and thus acting, the cause of truth and the public good is more surely promoted.

The treaty is bad, fatally bad, is the cry. It sacrifices the interest, the honor, the independence of the United States, and the faith of our engagements to France. If we listen to the clamor of party intemperance, the evils are of a number not to be counted, and of a nature not to be borne, even in idea. The language of passion and exaggeration may silence that of sober reason in other places, it has not done it here. The question here is, whether the treaty be really so very fatal as to oblige the nation to break its faith. I admit that such a treaty ought not to be executed. I admit that self-preservation is the first law of society, as well as of individuals. It would, perhaps, be deemed an abuse of terms to call that a treaty, which violates such a principle. I waive also, for the present, any inquiry, what departments shall represent the nation, and annul the stipulations of a treaty. I content myself with pursuing the inquiry, whether the nature of this compact be such as to justify our refusal to carry it into effect. A treaty is the promise of a nation. Now, promises do not always bind him that makes them. But I lay down two rules, which ought to guide us in this case. The treaty must appear to be bad, not merely in the petty details, but in its character, principle, and mass. And in the next place, this ought to be ascertained by the decided and general concurrence of the enlightened public.

I confess there seems to be something very like ridicule thrown over the debate by the discussion of the articles in detail. The undecided point is, shall we break our faith? And while our country and enlightened Europe, await the issue with more than curiosity, we are employed to gather piecemeal, and article by article, from the instrument, a justification for the deed by trivial calculations of commercial profit and loss. This is little worthy of the subject, of this body, or of the nation. If the treaty is bad, it will appear to be so in its mass. Evil to a fatal extreme, if that be its tendency, requires no proof; it brings it. Extremes speak for themselves and make their own law. What if the direct voyage of American ships to Jamaica with horses or lumber, might net one or two per centum more than the present trade to Surinam; would the proof of the fact avail any thing in so grave a question as the violation of the public engagements?

Why do they complain, that the West Indies are not laid open? Why do they lament, that any restriction is stipulated on the commerce of the East Indies? Why do they pretend, that if they reject this, and insist upon more, more will be accomplished? Let us be explicit—more would not satisfy. If all was granted, would not a treaty of amity with Great Britain still be obnoxious? Have we not this instant heard it urged against our envoy, that he was not ardent enough in his hatred of Great Britain? A treaty of amity is condemned because it was not made by a foe, and in the spirit of one. The same gentleman, at the same instant, repeats a very prevailing objection, that no treaty should be made with the enemy of France. No treaty, exclaim others, should be made with a monarch or a despot; there will be no naval security while those sea-robbers domineer on the ocean; their den must be destroyed; that nation must be extirpated.

I like this, sir, because it is sincerity. With feelings such as these, we do not pant for treaties. Such passions seek nothing, and will be content with nothing, but the destruction of their object. If a treaty left King George his island, it would not answer; not if he stipulated to pay rent for it. It has been said, the world ought to rejoice if Britain was sunk in the sea; if where there are now men and wealth and laws and liberty, there was no more than a sand bank for sea monsters to fatten on; a space for the storms of the ocean to mingle in conflict.

What is patriotism? Is it a narrow affection for the spot where a man was born? Are the very clods where we tread entitled to this ardent preference because they are greener? No, sir, this is not the character of the virtue, and it soars higher for its object. It is an extended self-love, mingling with all the enjoyments of life, and twisting itself with the minutest filaments of the heart. It is thus we obey the laws of society, because they are the laws of virtue. In their authority we see, not the array of force and terror, but the venerable image of our country's honor. Every good citizen makes that honor his own, and cherishes it not only as precious, but as sacred. He is willing to risk his life in its defence, and is conscious that he gains protection while he gives it. For, what rights of a citizen will be deemed inviolable when a state renounces the principles that constitute their security? Or if his life should not be invaded, what would its enjoyments be in a country odious in the eyes of strangers and dishonored in his own? Could he look with affection and veneration to such a country as his parent? The sense of having one would die within him; he would blush for his patriotism, if he retained any, and justly, for it would be a vice. He would be a banished man in his native land. I see no exception to the respect that is paid among nations to the law of good faith. If there are cases in this enlightened period when it is violated, there are none when it is decried. It is the philosophy of politics, the religion of governments. It is observed by barbarians—a whiff of tobacco smoke, or a string of beads, gives not merely binding force but sanctity to treaties. Even in Algiers, a truce may be bought for money, but when ratified, even Algiers is too wise, or too just, to disown and annul its obligation. Thus we see, neither the ignorance of savages, nor the principles of an association for piracy and rapine, permit a nation to despise its engagements. If, sir, there could be a resurrection from the foot of the gallows, if the victims of justice could live again, collect together and form a society, they would, however loath, soon find themselves obliged to make justice, that justice under which they fell, the fundamental law of their state. They would perceive, it was their interest to make others respect, and they would therefore soon pay some respect themselves, to the obligations of good faith.

It is painful, I hope it is superfluous, to make even the supposition, that America should furnish the occasion of this opprobrium. No, let me not even imagine, that a republican government, sprung, as our own is, from a people enlightened and uncorrupted, a government whose origin is right, and whose daily discipline is duty, can, upon solemn debate, make its option to be faithless—can dare to act what despots dare not avow, what our own example evinces, the states of Barbary are unsuspected of. No, let me rather make the supposition, that Great Britain refuses to execute the treaty, after we have done every thing to carry it into effect. Is there any language of reproach pungent enough to express your commentary on the fact? What would you say, or rather what would you not say? Would you not tell them, wherever an Englishman might travel, shame would stick to him—he would disown his country. You would exclaim, England, proud of your wealth, and arrogant in the possession of power—blush for these distinctions, which become the vehicles of your dishonor. Such a nation might truly say to corruption, thou art my father, and to the worm, thou art my mother and my sister. We should say of such a race of men, their name is a heavier burden than their debt.

The refusal of the posts (inevitable if we reject the treaty) is a measure too decisive in its nature to be neutral in its consequences. From great causes we are to look for great effects. A plain and obvious one will be, the price of the Western lands will fall. Settlers will not choose to fix their habitation on a field of battle. Those who talk so much of the interest of the United States, should calculate how deeply it will be affected by rejecting the treaty; how vast a tract of wild land will almost cease to be property. This loss, let it be observed, will fall upon a fund expressly devoted to sink the national debt. What then are we called upon to do? However the form of the vote and the protestations of many may disguise the proceeding, our resolution is in substance, and it deserves to wear the title of a resolution to prevent the sale of the Western lands and the discharge of the public debt.

Will the tendency to Indian hostilities be contested by any one? Experience gives the answer. The frontiers were scourged with war till the negotiation with Great Britain was far advanced, and then the state of hostility ceased. Perhaps the public agents of both nations are innocent of fomenting the Indian war, and perhaps they are not. We ought not, however, to expect that neighboring nations, highly irritated against each other, will neglect the friendship of the savages; the traders will gain an influence and will abuse it; and who is ignorant that their passions are easily raised, and hardly restrained from violence? Their situation will oblige them to choose between this country and Great Britain, in case the treaty should be rejected. They will not be our friends, and at the same time the friends of our enemies.

But am I reduced to the necesity of proving this point? Certainly the very men who charged the Indian war on the detention of the posts, will call for no other proof than the recital of their own speeches. It is remembered with what emphasis, with what acrimony, they expatiated on the burden of taxes, and the drain of blood and treasure into the Western country, in consequence of Britain's holding the posts. Until the posts are restored, they exclaimed, the treasury and the frontiers must bleed.

If any, against all these proofs, should maintain that the peace with the Indians will be stable without the posts, to them I urge another reply. From arguments calculated to produce conviction, I will appeal directly to the hearts of those who hear me, and ask, whether it is not already planted there? I resort especially to the convictions of the Western gentlemen, whether supposing no posts and no treaty, the settlers will remain in security? Can they take it upon them to say, that an Indian peace, under these circumstances, will prove firm? No, sir, it will not be peace, but a sword; it will be no better than a lure to draw victims within the reach of the tomahawk.

On this theme my emotions are unutterable. If I could find words for them, if my powers bore any proportion to my zeal, I would swell my voice to such a note of remonstrance, it should reach every log-house beyond the mountains. I would say to the inhabitants, wake from your false security; your cruel dangers, your more cruel apprehensions are soon to be renewed; the wounds, yet unhealed, are to be torn open again; in the daytime, your path through the woods will be ambushed; the darkness of midnight will glitter with the blaze of your dwellings. You are a father—the blood of your sons shall fatten your cornfield; you are a mother—the war-whoop shall wake the sleep of the cradle.

On this subject you need not suspect any deception on your feelings. It is a spectacle of horror, which cannot be overdrawn. If you have nature in your hearts, it will speak a language, compared with which all I have said or can say will be poor and frigid.

Will it be whispered that the treaty has made me a new champion for the protection of the frontiers? It is known that my voice as well as vote have been uniformly given in conformity with the ideas I have expressed. Protection is the right of the frontiers; it is our duty to give it.

Who will accuse me of wandering out of the subject? Who will say that I exaggerate the tendencies of our measures? Will any one answer by a sneer, that all this is idle preaching? Will any one deny, that we are bound, and I would hope to good purpose, by the most solemn sanctions of duty for the vote we give? Are despots alone to be reproached for unfeeling indifference to the tears and blood of their subjects? Have the principles on which you ground the reproach upon cabinets and kings no practical influence, no binding force? Are they merely themes of idle declamation introduced to decorate the morality of a newspaper essay, or to furnish petty topics of harangue from the windows of that state-house? I trust it is neither too presumptuous nor too late to ask. Can you put the dearest interest of society at risk without guilt and without remorse.

It is vain to offer as an excuse, that public men are not to be reproached for the evils that may happen to ensue from their measures. This is very true where they are unforeseen or inevitable. Those I have depicted are not unforeseen; they are so far from inevitable, we are going to bring them into being by our vote. We choose the consequences, and become as justly answerable for them as for the measures that we know will produce them.

By rejecting the posts we light the savage fires—we bind the victims. This day we undertake to render account to the widows and orphans whom our decision will make, to the wretches that will be roasted at the stake, to our country, and I do not deem it too serious to say, to conscience and to God. We are answerable, and if duty be any thing more than a word of imposture, if conscience be not a bug-bear, we are preparing to make ourselves as wretched as our country.

There is no mistake in this case—there can be none. Experience has already been the prophet of events, and the cries of future victims have already reached us. The Western inhabitants are not a silent and uncomplaining sacrifice. The voice of humanity issues from the shade of their wilderness. It exclaims that, while one hand is held up to reject this treaty, the other grasps a tomahawk. It summons our imagination to the scenes that will open. It is no great effort of the imagination to conceive that events so near are already begun. I can fancy that I listen to the yells of savage vengeance, and the shrieks of torture. Already they seem to sigh in the west wind-already they mingle with every echo from the mountains.

It is not the part of prudence to be inattentive to the tendencies of measures. Where there is any ground to fear that these will prove pernicious, wisdom and duty forbid that we should underrate them. If we reject the treaty, will our peace be as safe as if we executed it with good faith? I do honor to the intrepid spirits of those who say it will. It was formerly understood to constitute the excellence of a man's faith to believe without evidence and against it.

But, as opinions on this article are changed, and we are called to act for our country, it becomes us to explore the dangers that will attend its peace, and to avoid them if we can.

Is there any thing in the prospect of the interior state of the country to encourage us to aggravate the dangers of a war? Would not the shock of that evil produce another, and shake down the feeble and then unbraced structure of our government? Is this a chimera? Is it going off the ground of matter of fact to say, the rejection of the appropriation proceeds upon the doctrine of a civil war of the departments? Two branches have ratified a treaty, and we are going to set it aside. How is this disorder in the machine to be rectified? While it exists its movements must stop, and when we talk of a remedy, is that any other than the formidable one of a revolutionary one of the people? And is this, in the judgment even of my opposers, to execute, to preserve the constitution and the public order? Is this the state of hazard, if not of convulsion, which they can have the courage to contemplate and to brave, or beyond which their penetration can reach and see the issue? They seem to believe, and they act as if they believed, that our union, our peace, our liberty, are invulnerable and immortal—as if our happy state was not to be disturbed by our dissentions, and that we are not capable of falling from it by our unworthiness. Some of them have, no doubt, better nerves and better discernment than mine. They can see the bright aspects and the happy consequences of all this array of horrors. They can see intestine discords, our government disorganized, our wrongs aggravated, multiplied, and unredressed, peace with dishonor, or war without justice, union, or resources, in "the calm lights of mild philosophy."

But whatever they may anticipate as the next measure of prudence and safety, they have explained nothing to the house. After rejecting the treaty, what is to be the next step? They must have foreseen what ought to be done; they have doubtless resolved what to propose. Why then are they silent? Dare they not avow their plan of conduct, or do they wait till our progress toward confusion shall guide them in forming it?

Let me cheer the mind, weary, no doubt, and ready to despond on this prospect, by presenting another, which it is yet in our power to realize. Is it possible for a real American to look at the prosperity of this country without some desire for its continuance—without some respect for the measures which, many will say, produced, and all will confess, have preserved, it? Will he not feel some dread that a change of system will reverse the scene? The well-grounded fears of our citizens in 1794 were removed by the treaty, but are not forgotten. Then they deemed war nearly inevitable, and would not this adjustment have been considered, at that day, as a happy escape from the calamity? The great interest and the general desire of our people, was to enjoy the advantages of neutrality. This instrument, however misrepresented, affords America that inestimable security. The causes of our disputes are either cut up by the roots, or referred to a new negotiation after the end of the European war. This was gaining everything, because it confirmed our neutrality, by which our citizens are gaining everything. This alone would justify the engagements of the government. For, when the fiery vapors of the war lowered in the skirts of our horizon, all our wishes were concentred in this one, that we might escape the desolation of the storm. This treaty, like a rainbow on the edge of the cloud, marked to our eyes the space where it was raging, and afforded, at the same time, the sure prognostic of fair weather. If we reject it, the vivid colors will grow pale,—it will be a baleful meteor portending tempest and war.

Let us not hesitate, then, to agree to the appropriation to carry it into faithful execution.

Thus we shall save the faith of our nation, secure its peace, and diffuse the spirit of confidence and enterprise that will augment its prosperity. The progress of wealth and improvement is wonderful, and, some will think, too rapid. The field for exertion is fruitful and vast, and if peace and good government should be preserved, the acquisitions of our citizens are not so pleasing as the proofs of their industry—as the instruments of their future success. The rewards of exertion go to augment its power. Profit is every hour becoming capital. The vast crop of our neutrality is all seed-wheat, and is sown again to swell, almost beyond calculation, the future harvest of prosperity. And in this progress, what seems to be fiction is found to fall short of experience.

I rose to speak under impressions that I would have resisted if I could. Those who see me will believe that the reduced state of my health has unfitted me, almost equally for much exertion of body or mind. Unprepared for debate, by careful reflection in my retirement, or by long attention here, I thought the resolution I had taken to sit silent, was imposed by necesity, and would cost me no effort to maintain. With a mind thus vacant of ideas, and sinking, as I really am, under a sense of weakness, I imagined the very desire of speaking was extinguished by the persuasion that I had nothing to say. Yet, when I come to the moment of deciding the vote, I start back with dread from the edge of the pit into which we are plunging. In my view, even the minutes I have spent in expostulation have their value, because they protract the crisis, and the short period in which alone we may resolve to escape it.

I have thus been led, by my feelings, to speak more at length than I intended. Yet I have, perhaps, as little personal interest in the event as any one here. There is, I believe, no member who will not think his chance to be a witness of the consequences greater than mine. If, however, the vote shall pass to reject, and a spirit should rise, as it will, with the public disorders, to make confusion worse confounded, even I, slender and almost broken as my hold upon life is, may outlive the government and constitution of my country.



JOHN NICHOLAS

ON THE PROPOSED REPEAL OF THE SEDITION LAW

—HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, FEB. 25, 1799

MR. CHAIRMAN:

The Select Committee had very truly stated that only the second and third sections of the act are complained of; that the part of the law which punishes seditious acts is acquiesced in, and that the part which goes to restrain what are called seditious writings is alone the object of the petitions. This part of the law is complained of as being unwarranted by the Constitution, and destructive of the first principles of republican government. It is always justifiable, in examining the principle of a law, to inquire what other laws can be passed with equal reason, and to impute to it all the mischiefs for which it may be used as a precedent.

In this case, little inquiry is left for us to make, the arguments in favor of the law carrying us immediately and by inevitable consequence to absolute power over the press.

It is not pretended that the Constitution has given any express authority, which they claim, for passing this law, and it is claimed only as implied in that clause of the Constitution which says: "Congress shall have power to make all laws which shall be necessary and proper for carrying into execution the foregoing powers, and all other powers vested by this Constitution in the Government of the United States, or in any department or officer thereof." It is clear that this clause was intended to be merely an auxiliary to the powers specially enumerated in the Constitution; and it must, therefore, be so construed as to aid them, and at the same time to leave the boundaries between the General Government and the State governments untouched. The argument by which the Select Committee have endeavored to establish the authority of Congress over the press is the following: "Congress has power to punish seditious combinations to resist the laws, and therefore Congress must have the power to punish false, scandalous, and malicious writings; because such writings render the Administration odious and contemptible among the people, and by doing so have a tendency to produce opposition to the laws." To make it support the construction of the committee, it should say that "Congress shall have power over all acts which are likely to produce acts which hinder the execution of," etc. Our construction confines the power of Congress to such acts as immediately interfere with the execution of the enumerated powers of Congress, because the power can only be necessary as well as proper when the acts would really hinder the execution. The construction of the committee extends the power of Congress to all acts which have a relation, ever so many degrees removed, to the enumerated powers, or rather to the acts which would hinder their execution. By our construction, the Constitution remains defined and limited, according to the plain intent and meaning of its framers; by the construction of the committee, all limitation is lost, and it may be extended over the different actions of life as speculative politicians may think fit. What has a greater tendency to fit men for insurrection and resistance to government than dissolute, immoral habits, at once destroying love of order, and dissipating the fortune which gives an interest in society? The doctrine that Congress can punish any act which has a tendency to hinder the execution of the laws, as well as acts which do hinder it, will, therefore, clearly entitle them to assume a general guardianship over the morals of the people of the United States. Again, nothing can have a greater tendency to ensure obedience to law, and nothing can be more likely to check every propensity to resistance to government, than virtuous and wise education; therefore Congress must have power to subject all the youth of the United States to a certain system of education. It would be very easy to connect every sort of authority used by any government with the well-being of the General Government, and with as much reason as the committee had for their opinion, to assign the power to Congress, although the consequence must be the prostration of the State governments.

But enough has been said to show the necessity of adhering to the common meaning of the word "necessary" in the clause under consideration, which is, that the power to be assumed must be one without which some one of the enumerated powers cannot exist or be maintained. It cannot escape notice, however, that the doctrine contended for, that the Administration must be protected against writings which are likely to bring it into contempt, as tending to opposition, will apply with more force to truth than falsehood. It cannot be denied that the discovery of maladministration will bring more lasting discredit on the government of a country than the same charges would if untrue. This is not an alarm founded merely on construction, for the governments which have exercised control over the press have carried it the whole length. This is notoriously the law of England, whence this system has been drawn; for there truth and falsehood are alike subject to punishment, if the publication brings contempt on the officers of government.

The law has been current by the fair pretence of punishing nothing but falsehood, and by holding out to the accused the liberty of proving the truth of the writing; but it was from the first apprehended, and it seems now to be adjudged (the doctrine has certainly been asserted on this floor), that matters of opinion, arising on notorious facts, come under the law. If this is the case, where is the advantage of the law requiring that the writing should be false before a man shall be liable to punishment, or of his having the liberty of proving the truth of his writing? Of the truth of facts there is an almost certain test; the belief of honest men is certain enough to entitle it to great confidence; but their opinions have no certainty at all. The trial of the truth of opinions, in the best state of society, would be altogether precarious; and perhaps a jury of twelve men could never be found to agree in any one opinion. At the present moment, when, unfortunately, opinion is almost entirely governed by prejudice and passion, it may be more decided, but nobody will say it is more respectable. Chance must determine whether political opinions are true or false, and it will not unfrequently happen that a man will be punished for publishing opinions which are sincerely his, and which are of a nature to be extremely interesting to the public, merely because accident or design has collected a jury of different sentiments.

Is the power claimed proper for Congress to possess? It is believed not, and this will readily be admitted if it can be proved, as I think it can, that the persons who administer the government have an interest in the power to be confided opposed to that of the community. It must be agreed that the nature of our government makes a diffusion of knowledge of public affairs necessary and proper, and that the people have no mode of obtaining it but through the press. The necessity for their having this information results from its being their duty to elect all the parts of the Government, and, in this way, to sit in judgment over the conduct of those who have been heretofore employed. The most important and necessary information for the people to receive is that of the misconduct of the Government, because their good deeds, although they will produce affection and gratitude to public officers, will only confirm the existing confidence, and will, therefore, make no change in the conduct of the people. The question, then, whether the Government ought to have control over the persons who alone can give information throughout a country is nothing more than this, whether men, interested in suppressing information necessary for the people to have, ought to be entrusted with the power, or whether they ought to have a power which their personal interest leads to the abuse of. I am sure no candid man will hesitate about the answer; and it may also safely be left with ingenuous men to say whether the misconduct which we sometimes see in the press had not better be borne with, than to run the risk of confiding the power of correction to men who will be constantly urged by their own feelings to destroy its usefulness. How long can it be desirable to have periodical elections for the purpose of judging of the conduct of our rulers, when the channels of information may be choked at their will?

But, sir, I have ever believed this question as settled by an amendment to the Constitution, proposed with others for declaring and restricting its powers, as the preamble declares, at the request of several of the States, made at the adoption of the Constitution, in order to prevent their misconstruction and abuse. This amendment is in the following words: "Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof, or abridging the freedom of speech or of the press, or the right of the people peaceably to assemble and petition the Government for a redress of grievances." There can be no doubt about the effect of this amendment, unless the "freedom of the press" means something very different from what it seems; or unless there was some actual restraint upon it, under the Constitution of the United States, at the time of the adoption of this amendment, commensurate with that imposed by this law. Both are asserted, viz., that the "freedom of the press" has a defined, limited meaning, and that the restraints of the common law were in force under the United States, and are greater than those of the act of Congress, and that, therefore, either way the "freedom of the press" is not abridged.

It is asserted by the select committee, and by everybody who has gone before them in this discussion, that the "freedom of the press," according to the universally received acceptation of the expression, means only an exemption from all previous restraints on publication, but not an exemption from any punishment Government pleases to inflict for what is published. This definition does not at all distinguish between publications of different sorts, but leaves all to the regulation of the law, only forbidding Government to interfere until the publication is really made. The definition, if true, so reduces the effect of the amendment that the power of Congress is left unlimited over the productions of the press, and they are merely deprived of one mode of restraint.

The amendment was certainly intended to produce some limitation to legislative discretion, and it must be construed so as to produce such an effect, if it is possible. To give it such a construction as will bring it to a mere nullity would violate the strongest injunctions of common-sense and decorum, and yet that appears to me to be the effect of the construction adopted by the committee. The effect of the amendment, say the committee, is to prevent Government taking the press from its owner; but how is their power lessened by this, when they may take the printer from his press and imprison him for any length of time, for publishing what they choose to prohibit, although it maybe ever so proper for public information? The result is that Government may forbid any species of writing, true as well as false, to be published; may inflict the heaviest punishments they can devise for disobedience, and yet we are very gravely assured that this is the "freedom of the press."

A distinction is very frequently relied on between the freedom and the licentiousness of the press, which it is proper to examine. This seems to me to refute every other argument which is used on this subject; it amounts to an admission that there are some acts of the press which Congress ought not to have power to restrain, and that by the amendment they are prohibited to restrain these acts. Nov, to justify any act of Congress, they ought to show the boundary between what is prohibited and what is permitted, and that the act is not within the prohibited class. The Constitution has fixed no such boundary, therefore they can pretend to no power over the press, without claiming the right of defining what is freedom and what is licentiousness, and that would be to claim a right which would defeat the Constitution; for every Congress would have the same right, and the freedom of the press would fluctuate according to the will of the legislature. This is, therefore, only a new mode of claiming absolute power over the press.

It is said there is a common law which makes part of the law of the United States, which restrained the press more than the act of Congress has done, and that therefore there is no abridgment of its freedom. What this common law is I cannot conceive, nor have I seen anybody who could explain himself when he was talking of it. It certainly is not a common law of the United States, acquired, as that of England was, by immemorial usage. The standing of the Government makes this impossible. It cannot be a code of laws adopted because they were universally in use in the States, for the States had no uniform code; and, if they had, it could hardly become, by implication, part of the code of a Government of limited powers, from which every thing is expressly retained which is not given. Is it the law of England, at any particular period, which is adopted? But the nature of the law of England makes it impossible that it should have been adopted in the lump into such a Government as this is, because it was a complete system for the management of all the affairs of a country. It regulated estates, punished all crimes, and, in short, went to all things for which laws were necessary. But how was this law adopted? Was it by the Constitution? If so, it is immutable and incapable of amendment. In what part of the Constitution is it declared to be adopted? Was it adopted by the courts? From whom do they derive their authority? The Constitution, in the clause first cited, relies on Congress to pass all laws necessary to enable the courts to carry their powers into execution; it cannot, therefore, have been intended to give them a power not necessary to their declared powers. There does not seem to me the smallest pretext for so monstrous an assumption; on the contrary, while the Constitution is silent about it, every fair inference is against it.

Upon the whole, therefore, I am fully satisfied that no power is given by the Constitution to control the press, and that such laws are expressly prohibited by the amendment. I think it inconsistent with the nature of our Government that its administration should have power to restrain animadversions on public measures, and for protection from private injury from defamation the States are fully competent. It is to them that our officers must look for protection of persons, estates, and every other personal right; and, therefore, I see no reason why it is not proper to rely upon it for defence against private libels.



THE RISE OF DEMOCRACY.

The inaugural address of President Jefferson has been given the first place under this period, notwithstanding the fact that it was not at all an oration. The inaugural addresses of presidents Washington and Adams were really orations, although written, depending for much of their effect on the personal presence of him who delivered the address; that of Jefferson was altogether a business document, sent to be read by the two houses of Congress for their information, and without any of the adjuncts of the orator.

It is impossible, nevertheless, to spare the inaugural address of the first Democratic President, for it is pervaded by a personality which, if quieter in its operation, was more potent in results than the most burning eloquence could have been. The spirit of modern democracy, which has become, for good or evil, the common characteristic of all American parties and leaders, was here first put into living words. Triumphant in national politics, this spirit now had but one field of struggle, the politics of the States, and here its efforts were for years bent to the abolition of every remnant of limitation on individual liberty. Outside of New England, the change was accomplished as rapidly as the forms of law could be put into the necessary direction; remnants of ecclesiastical government, ecclesiastical taxes of even the mildest description, restrictions on manhood suffrage, State electoral systems, were the immediate victims of the new spirit, and the first term of Mr. Jefferson saw most of the States under democratic governments. Inside of New England, the change was stubbornly resisted, and, for a time, with success. For about twenty years, the general rule was that New England and Delaware were federalist, and the rest of the country was democratic. But even in New England, a strong democratic minority was growing up, and about 1820 the last barriers of federalism gave way; Connecticut, the federalist "land of steady habits," accepted a new and democratic constitution; Massachusetts modified hers; and the new and reliably democratic State of Maine was brought into existence. The "era of good feeling" signalized the extinction of the federal party and the universal reign of democracy. The length of this period of contest is the strongest testimony to the stubbornness of the New England fibre. Estimated by States, the success of democracy was about as complete in 1803 as in 1817; but it required fifteen years of persistent struggle to convince the smallest section of the Union that it was hopelessly defeated.

The whole period was a succession of great events. The acquisition of Louisiana, stretching from the Mississippi to the Rocky Mountains, laid, in 1803, the foundations of that imperial domain which the steamboat and railroad were to convert to use in after-years. The continental empire of Napoleon and the island empire of Great Britain drifted into a struggle for life or death which hardly knew a breathing space until the last charge at Waterloo, and from the beginning it was conducted by both combatants with a reckless disregard of international public opinion and neutral rights which is hardly credible but for the official records. Every injury inflicted on neutral commerce by one belligerent was promptly imitated or exceeded by the other, and the two were perfectly in accord in insisting on the convenient doctrine of international law, that, unless neutral rights were enforced by the neutral against one belligerent, the injury became open to the imitation of the other. In the process of imitation, each belligerent took care to pass at least a little beyond the precedent; and thus, beginning with a paper blockade of the northern coast of the continent by the British Government, the process advanced, by alternate "retaliations," to a British proclamation specifying the ports of the world to which American vessels were to be allowed to trade, stopping in England or its dependencies to pay taxes en route. These two almost contemporary events, the acquisition of Louisiana and the insolent pretensions of the European belligerents, were the central points of two distinct influences which bore strongly on the development of the United States.

The dominant party, the republicans, had a horror of a national debt which almost amounted to a mania. The associations of the term, derived from their reading of English history, all pointed to a condition of affairs in which the rise of a strong aristocracy was inevitable; and, to avoid the latter, they were determined to pay off the former. The payment for Louisiana precluded, in their opinion, the support of a respectable navy; and the remnants of colonialism in their party predisposed them to adopt an ostrich policy instead. The Embargo act was passed in 1807, forbidding all foreign commerce. The evident failure of this act to influence the belligerents brought about its repeal in 1809, and the substitution of the Non-intercourse act. This prohibited commercial intercourse with England and France until either should revoke its injurious edicts. Napoleon, by an empty and spurious revocation in 1810, induced Congress to withdraw the act in respect to France, keeping it alive in respect to England. England refused to admit the sincerity of the French revocation, to withdraw her Orders in Council, or to cease impressing American seamen. The choice left to the United States was between war and submission.