Xl.
But a single usurpation is not enough to employ the rapacious energies of our Oligarchy. At this moment, while the country is pained by the heartless conspiracy against Freedom in Kansas, we are startled by another effort, which contemplates, not merely the political subjugation of the National Government, but the actual introduction of Slavery into the Free States. The vaunt has been made, that slaves will yet be counted in the secret shadow of the monument on Bunker Hill, and more than one step has been taken towards this effrontery. A person of Virginia has asserted his right to hold slaves in New York on the way to Texas; and this claim is still pending before the highest judicial tribunal of the land. A similar claim has been asserted in Pennsylvania, and thus far been sustained by the court. A blameless citizen, who—in obedience to his generous impulses and in harmony with the received law—merely gave notice to a person held as a slave in a Free [215] State, that she was in reality free, has been thrust into jail, and now, after the lapse of months, still languishes there, the victim of this pretension; while,—that no excess might be wanting in the madness of this tyranny—the great writ of Habeas Corpus, proudly known as the writ of deliverance, has been made the instrument of his imprisonment. Outrage treads upon outrage, and great rights pass away to perish. Alas! the needful tool for such work is too easily found in places low and high—in the alleys and cellars of Boston—on the bench of the judge —in the chair of the President. But it is the power behind which I arraign. The Slave Oligarchy does it; the Slave Oligarchy does it all.To the prostration of this Oligarchy you are bound by a three-fold cord of duty; first, as you would secure Freedom for yourselves; secondly, as you would uphold Freedom in distant Kansas; and thirdly, as you would preserve the Union in its early strength and integrity. The people of Kansas are, many of them, from Massachusetts—bone of our bone, flesh of our flesh; but as fellow-citizens under the Constitution, they are bound to us by ties which we cannot disown. Nay, more; by the subtle cord which connects this embryo settlement with the Republic, they are made a part of us. The outrage which touches them touches us. What galls them galls us. The fetter which binds the slave in Kansas binds every citizen in Massachusetts. Thus are we prompted to their rescue, not only to save them, but also to save ourselves. The tyranny which now treads them down, has already trampled on us, and only awaits an opportunity to do it again. In its complete overthrow is the only way of safety. Indeed, this must be done before anything else can be done. In vain you seek economy in the Government—improvement of rivers and harbors—or dignity and peace in our foreign relations, while this power holds the national purse and the national sword. Prostrate the Slave Oligarchy, and the door will be wide open for all generous reforms. Oh! the imagination loses itself in the vain endeavor to picture the good that will be then accomplished. Prostrate the Slave Oligarchy, and Liberty will become the universal law of all the national territories; Slavery will cease at once in the national capital; the slave trade will no longer skulk along our coasts beneath the national flag; and the wickedness of the Fugitive Slave Bill will be driven from the statute-book. Prostrate the Slave Oligarchy, and the national Government will be at length divorced from Slavery, and the national policy will be changed from Slavery to Freedom. Prostrate the Slave Oligarchy, and the North will no longer be the vassal of the South. Prostrate the Slave Oligarchy, and the North [216] will be admitted to its just share in the trusts and honors of the Republic. Prostrate the Slave Oligarchy, and you will possess the master-key with which to unlock the whole house of bondage. Prostrate the Slave Oligarchy, and the gates of emancipation will be open at the South.
To this work, fellow-citizens, you are now summoned. By your votes you are to declare, not merely your predilection for men, but your devotion to principles. Men are erring and mortal. Principles are steadfast and immortal. Forgetting all other things—especially forgetting men—you are to cast your votes so as best to promote Freedom.
But in the choice of men we are driven to the organization of parties; and here occurs the practical question on which hinges our immediate duty, by what political party can our desire be accomplished? There are individuals in all the parties, even the Democratic, who hate Slavery, and say so; but a political party cannot be judged by the private opinions of some of its members. Something else, more solid and tangible, must appear. The party that we select to bear the burden and honor of our great controversy, must be adapted to the work. It must be a perfect machine. Wedded to Freedom, for better or for worse, and cleaving to it with a grasp never to be unloosed, it must be clear, open and unequivocal in its declarations, and must admit no other question to divert its energies. It must be all in Freedom, and, like Caesar's wife, it must be above suspicion. But besides this character which it must sustain in Massachusetts, it must be prepared to take its place in close phalanx with the united masses of the North, now organizing through all the Free States, junctaeque umbone phalanges, for the protection of Freedom, and the overthrow of the Slave Oligarchy.
Bearing these conditions in mind, there are three parties which we may dismiss, one by one, as they pass in review. Men do not gather grapes from thorns, nor figs from thistles; nor do they expect patriotism from Benedict Arnold. A party which sustains the tyrannies and perfidies of the Slave Oligarchy, and is represented by the President, through whom has come so much of all our woe, need not occupy our time; and such is the Democratic party. If there be within the sound of my voice a single person, who, professing sympathy with Freedom, still votes with this party, to him I would say: The name of Democrat is a tower of strength; let it not be a bulwark of Slavery; for the sake of a name do not sacrifice a thing; for the sake of party do not surrender Freedom.
According to a familiar rule, handed down from distant antiquity, we [217] are to say nothing but good of the dead. How, then, shall I speak of the late powerful Whig party—by whose giant contests the whole country was once upheaved—but which has now ceased to exist, except as the shadow of a name? Here, in Massachusetts, a few who do not yet know that it is dead, have met together and proffered their old allegiance. They are the Rip Van Winkles of our politics. This respectable charter, falling asleep in the mountains, drowsed undisturbed throughout the whole war of the Revolution, and, then returning to his native village, ignorant of all that had passed, proposed to drink the health of King George. But our Whigs are less tolerant and urbane than this awakened Dutchman. In petulant and irrational assumptions they are like the unfortunate judge, who, being aroused from his slumbers on the bench by a sudden crash of thunder, exclaimed, ‘Mr. Crier, stop the noise in Court.’ The thunder would not be hushed; nor will the voice of Freedom, now reverberating throughout the land. Some there are among these who openly espouse the part of Slavery, while others, by their indifference, place themselves in the same unhappy company. If their position at this moment were of sufficient importance to justify grave remark, they should be exhibited as kindred in spirit and isolation to the Tories of our Revolution, or, at least, as the Bourbons of Massachusetts—always claiming everything, learning nothing, forgetting nothing, and at last condemned by an aroused people for their disloyalty to Freedom. Let no person who truly loves Freedom join this company, tempted by its name, its music, and its banners.
There is still another party, which claims your votes, but permit me to say, at this crisis, with small pretence. I am at a loss to determine the name by which it may be properly called. It is sometimes known as the Know-Nothing party; sometimes as the American party; but it cannot be entitled to these designations—if they be of any value—for it does not claim to belong to the organization, which first assumed and still retains them. It is an isolated combination, peculiar to Massachusetts, which, while professing certain political sentiments, is bound together by the support of one of the candidates for Governor. At this moment this is its controlling idea. It is, therefore, a personal party, and I trust that I shall not be considered as departing from that courtesy which is with me a law, if I say that, in the absence of any appropriate name, expressive of principles, it may properly take its designation from the candidate it supports.
Of course, such a party wants the first essential condition of the organization which we seek. It is a personal party, whose controlling idea [218] is a predilection for a man and not a principle. Whatever may be the private sentiments of some of its members, clearly it is not a party wedded to Freedom, for better and for worse, and cleaving to it with a grasp never to be unloosed. While professing opposition to Slavery it also arraigns Catholics and foreigners, and allows the question of their privileges to disturb its energies. It is not all in Freedom; nor is it, like Caesar's wife, above suspicion. Besides, even as a party of Freedom, it is powerless from its isolation; for it stands by itself, and is in no way associated with that great phalanx now rallying throughout the North. In this condition should it continue to exist, it will, in the coning Presidential contest, from natural affinity lapse back into the American party of the country which is ranged on the side of Slavery. Of course, as a separate party, it is necessarily short-lived. Cut off from the main body, it may still show a brief vitality, as the head of a turtle still bites for some days after it is severed from the neck: but it can have no permanent existence. Surely this is not the party of Freedom which we seek.
But the incompetency of this party, as the organ of our cause, is enhanced by the uncongenial secrecy in which it had its origin and yet shrouds itself. For myself, let me say that, on the floor of the Senate I have striven, by vote and speech, in conjunction with my distinguished friend Mr. Chase, for the limitation of the secret sessions of that body, under shelter of which so much of the business of the nation is transacted, and I have there presented the example of that ancient Roman, —who bade his architect so to construct his house that his guests and all that they did might be seen by the world,—as a fit model for American institutions. What I have urged there I now urge here. But the special aims which this party proposes, seems to be in harmony with the darkness in which it begins. Even if justifiable, on any grounds of public policy, they should not be associated with our cause; but I am unwilling to allude to them without expressing my frank dissent.
