Speech of Abraham Lincoln to the Members of the Agricultural Society and Citizens of Wisconsin, September 30, 1859

Members of the Agricultural Society and Citizens of Wisconsin:

Agricultural Fairs are becoming an institution of the country; they are useful in more ways than one; they bring us together, and thereby make us better acquainted, and better friends than we otherwise would be. From the first appearance of man upon the earth, down to very recent times, the words  “stranger” and  “enemy” were quite or almost, synonymous. Long after civilized nations had defined robbery and murder as high crimes, and had affixed severe punishments to them, when practiced among and upon their own people respectively, it was deemed no offence, but even meritorious, to rob, and murder, and enslave strangers, whether as nations or as individuals. Even yet, this has not totally disappeared. The man of the highest moral cultivation, in spite of all which abstract principle can do, likes him whom he does know, much better than him whom he does not know. To correct the evils, great and small, which spring from want of sympathy, and from positive enmity, among strangers, as nations, or as individuals, is one of the highest functions of civilization. To this end our Agricultural Fairs contribute in no small degree. They make more pleasant, and more strong, and more durable, the bond of social and political union among us. Again, if, as Pope declares, “happiness is our being's end and aim,” our Fairs contribute much to that end and aim, as occasions of recreation—as holidays. Constituted as man is, he has positive need of occasional recreation; and whatever can give him this, associated with virtue and advantage, and free from vice and disadvantage, is a positive good. Such recreation our Fairs afford. They are a present pleasure, to be followed by no pain, as a consequence; they are a present pleasure, making the future more pleasant.

But the chief use of agricultural fairs is to aid in improving the great calling of agriculture, in all it's departments, and minute divisions—to make mutual exchange of agricultural discovery, information, and knowledge; so that, at the end, all may know every thing, which may have been known to but one, or to but a few, at the beginning—to bring together especially all which is supposed to not be generally known, because of recent discovery, or invention.

And not only to bring together, and to impart all which has been accidentally discovered or invented upon ordinary motive; but, by exciting emulation, for premiums, and for the pride and honor of success—of triumph, in some sort—to stimulate that discovery and invention into extraordinary activity. In this, these Fairs are kindred to the patent clause in the Constitution of the United States; and to the department, and practical system, based upon that clause.

One feature, I believe, of every fair, is a regular address. The Agricultural Society of the young, prosperous, and soon to be, great State of Wisconsin, has done me the high honor of selecting me to make that address upon this occasion—an honor for which I make my profound, and grateful acknowledgement.

I presume I am not expected to employ the time assigned me, in the mere flattery of the farmers, as a class. My opinion of them is that, in proportion to numbers, they are neither better nor worse than other people. In the nature of things they are more numerous than any other class; and I believe there really are more attempts at flattering them than any other; the reason of which I cannot perceive, unless it be that they can cast more votes than any other. On reflection, I am not quite sure that there is not cause of suspicion against you, in selecting me, in some sort a politician, and in no sort a farmer, to address you.

But farmers, being the most numerous class, it follows that their interest is the largest interest. It also follows that that interest is most worthy of all to be cherished and cultivated—that if there be inevitable conflict between that interest and any other, that other should yield.

Again, I suppose it is not expected of me to impart to you much specific information on Agriculture. You have no reason to believe, and do not believe, that I possess it—if that were what you seek in this address, any one of your own number, or class, would be more able to furnish it.

You, perhaps, do expect me to give some general interest to the occasion; and to make some general suggestions, on practical matters. I shall attempt nothing more. And in such suggestions by me, quite likely very little will be new to you, and a large part of the rest possibly already known to be erroneous.

My first suggestion is an inquiry as to the effect of greater thoroughness in all the departments of Agriculture than now prevails in the North-West—perhaps I might say in America. To speak entirely within bounds, it is known that fifty bushels of wheat, or one hundred bushels of Indian corn can be produced from an acre. Less than a year ago I saw it stated that a man, by extraordinary care and labor, had produced of wheat, what was equal to two hundred bushels from an acre. But take fifty of wheat, and one hundred of corn, to be the possibility, and compare with it the actual crops of the country. Many years ago I saw it stated in a Patent Office Report that eighteen bushels was the average crop throughout the wheat growing region of the United States; and this year an intelligent farmer of Illinois, assured me that he did not believe the land harvested in that State this season, had yielded more than an average of eight bushels to the acre. The brag crop I heard of in our vicinity was two thousand bushels from ninety acres. Many crops were thrashed, producing no more than three bushels to the acre; much was cut, and then abandoned as not worth threshing; and much was abandoned as not worth cutting. As to Indian corn, and, indeed, most other crops, the case has not been much better. For the last four years I do not believe the ground planted with corn in Illinois, has produced an average of twenty bushels to the acre. It is true, that heretofore we have had better crops, with no better cultivators; but I believe it is also true that the soil has never been pushed up to one-half of its capacity.

What would be the effect upon the farming interest, to push the soil up to something near its full capacity? Unquestionably it will take more labor to produce fifty bushels from an acre, than it will to produce ten bushels from the same acre. But will it take more labor to produce fifty bushels from one acre, than from five? Unquestionably, thorough cultivation will require more labor to the acre; but will it require more to the bushel? If it should require just as much to the bushel, there are some probable, and several certain, advantages in favor of the thorough practice. It is probable it would develope those unknown causes, or develope unknown cures for those causes, which of late years have cut down our crops below their former average. It is almost certain, I think, that in the deeper plowing, analysis of soils, experiments with manures, and varieties of seeds, observance of seasons, and the like, these cases [causes?] would be found. It is certain that thorough cultivation would spare half or more than half, the cost of land, simply because the same product would be got from half, or from less than half the quantity of land. This proposition is self-evident, and can be made no plainer by repetitions or illustrations. The cost of land is a great item, even in new countries; and constantly grows greater and greater, in comparison with other items, as the country grows older.

It also would spare a large proportion of the making and maintaining of inclosures—the same, whether these inclosures should be hedges, ditches, or fences. This again, is a heavy item—heavy at first, and heavy in its continual demand for repairs. I remember once being greatly astonished by an apparently authentic exhibition of the proportion the cost of inclosures bears to all the other expenses of the farmer; though I can not remember exactly what that proportion was. Any farmer, if he will, can ascertain it in his own case, for himself.

Again, a great amount of “locomotion” is spared by thorough cultivation. Take fifty bushels of wheat, ready for the harvest, standing upon a single acre, and it can be harvested in any of the known ways, with less than half the labor which would be required if it were spread over five acres. This would be true, if cut by the old hand sickle; true, to a greater extent if by the scythe and cradle; and to a still greater extent, if by the machines now in use. These machines are chiefly valuable, as a means of substituting animal power for the power of men in this branch of farm work. In the highest degree of perfection yet reached in applying the horse power to harvesting, fully nine-tenths of the power is expended by the animal in carrying himself and dragging the machine over the field, leaving certainly not more than one-tenth to be applied directly to the only end of the whole operation—the gathering in the grain, and clipping of the straw. When grain is very thin on the ground, it is always more or less intermingled with weeds, chess and the like, and a large part of the power is expended in cutting these. It is plain that when the crop is very thick upon the ground, the larger proportion of the power is directly applied to gathering in and cutting it; and the smaller, to that which is totally useless as an end. And what I have said of harvesting is true, in a greater or less degree of mowing, plowing, gathering in of crops generally, and, indeed, of almost all farm work.

The effect of thorough cultivation upon the farmer's own mind, and, in reaction through his mind, back upon his business, is perhaps quite equal to any other of its effects. Every man is proud of what he does well; and no man is proud of what he does not do well. With the former, his heart is in his work; and he will do twice as much of it with less fatigue. The latter performs a little imperfectly, looks at it in disgust, turns from it, and imagines himself exceedingly tired. The little he has done, comes to nothing, for want of finishing.

The man who produces a good full crop will scarcely ever let any part of it go to waste. He will keep up the enclosure about it, and allow neither man nor beast to trespass upon it. He will gather it in due season and store it in perfect security. Thus he labors with satisfaction, and saves himself the whole fruit of his labor. The other, starting with no purpose for a full crop, labors less, and with less satisfaction; allows his fences to fall, and cattle to trespass; gathers not in due season, or not at all. Thus the labor he has performed, is wasted away, little by little, till in the end, he derives scarcely anything from it.

The ambition for broad acres leads to poor farming, even with men of energy. I scarcely ever knew a mammoth farm to sustain itself; much less to return a profit upon the outlay. I have more than once known a man to spend a respectable fortune upon one; fail and leave it; and then some man of more modest aims, get a small fraction of the ground, and make a good living upon it. Mammoth farms are like tools or weapons, which are too heavy to be handled. Ere long they are thrown aside, at a great loss.

The successful application of steam power, to farm work is a desideratum—especially a Steam Plow. It is not enough, that a machine operated by steam, will really plow. To be successful, it must, all things considered, plow better than can be done with animal power. It must do all the work as well, and cheaper; or more rapidly, so as to get through more perfectly in season; or in some way afford an advantage over plowing with animals, else it is no success. I have never seen a machine intended for a Steam Plow. Much praise, and admiration, are bestowed upon some of them; and they may be, for aught I know, already successful; but I have not perceived the demonstration of it. I have thought a good deal, in an abstract way, about a Steam Plow. That one which shall be so contrived as to apply the larger proportion of its power to the cutting and turning the soil, and the smallest, to the moving itself over the field, will be the best one. A very small stationary engine would draw a large gang of plows through the ground from a short distance to itself; but when it is not stationary, but has to move along like a horse, dragging the plows after it, it must have additional power to carry itself; and the difficulty grows by what is intended to overcome it; for what adds power also adds size, and weight to the machine, thus increasing again, the demand for power. Suppose you should construct the machine so as to cut a succession of short furrows, say a rod in length, transversely to the course the machine is locomoting, something like the shuttle in weaving. In such case the whole machine would move North only the width of a furrow, while in length, the furrow would be a rod from East to West. In such case, a very large proportion of the power, would be applied to the actual plowing. But in this, too, there would be a difficulty, which would be the getting of the plow into, and out of, the ground, at the ends of all these short furrows.

I believe, however, ingenious men will, if they have not already, overcome the difficulty I have suggested. But there is still another, about which I am less sanguine. It is the supply of fuel, and especially of water, to make steam. Such supply is clearly practicable, but can the expense of it be borne? Steamboats live upon the water, and find their fuel at stated places. Steam mills, and other stationary steam machinery, have their stationary supplies of fuel and water. Railroad locomotives have their regular wood and water station. But the steam plow is less fortunate. It does not live upon the water; and if it be once at a water station, it will work away from it, and when it gets away can not return, without leaving its work, at a great expense of its time and strength. It will occur that a wagon and horse team might be employed to supply it with fuel and water; but this, too, is expensive; and the question recurs, “can the expense be borne?” When this is added to all other expenses, will not the plowing cost more than in the old way?

It is to be hoped that the steam plow will be finally successful, and if it shall be, “thorough cultivation”—putting the soil to the top of its capacity—producing the largest crop possible from a given quantity of ground—will be most favorable to it. Doing a large amount of work upon a small quantity of ground, it will be, as nearly as possible, stationary while working, and as free as possible from locomotion; thus expending its strength as much as possible upon its work, and as little as possible in travelling. Our thanks, and something more substantial than thanks, are due to every man engaged in the effort to produce a successful steam plow. Even the unsuccessful will bring something to light, which, in the hands of others, will contribute to the final success. I have not pointed out difficulties, in order to discourage, but in order that being seen, they may be the more readily overcome.

The world is agreed that labor is the source from which human wants are mainly supplied. There is no dispute upon this point. From this point, however, men immediately diverge. Much disputation is maintained as to the best way of applying and controlling the labor element. By some it is assumed that labor is available only in connection with capital—that nobody labors, unless somebody else, owning capital, somehow, by the use of that capital, induces him to do it. Having assumed this, they proceed to consider whether it is best that capital shall hire laborers, and thus induce them to work by their own consent; or buy them, and drive them to it without their consent. Having proceeded so far they naturally conclude that all laborers are necessarily either hired laborers, or slaves. They further assume that whoever is once a hired laborer, is fatally fixed in that condition for life; and thence again that his condition is as bad as, or worse than that of a slave. This is the “mud-sill” theory.

But another class of reasoners hold the opinion that there is no such relation between capital and labor, as assumed; and that there is no such thing as a freeman being fatally fixed for life, in the condition of a hired laborer, that both these assumptions are false, and all inferences from them groundless. They hold that labor is prior to, and independent of, capital; that, in fact, capital is the fruit of labor, and could never have existed if labor had not first existed—that labor can exist without capital, but that capital could never have existed without labor. Hence they hold that labor is the superior—greatly the superior—of capital.

They do not deny that there is, and probably always will be, a relation between labor and capital. The error, as they hold, is in assuming that the whole labor of the world exists within that relation. A few men own capital; and that few avoid labor themselves, and with their capital, hire, or buy, another few to labor for them. A large majority belong to neither class—neither work for others, nor have others working for them. Even in all our slave States, except South Carolina, a majority of the whole people of all colors, are neither slaves nor masters. In these Free States, a large majority are neither hirers nor hired. Men, with their families—wives, sons and daughters—work for themselves, on their farms, in their houses and in their shops, taking the whole product to themselves, and asking no favors of capital on the one hand, nor of hirelings or slaves on the other. It is not forgotten that a considerable number of persons mingle their own labor with capital; that is, labor with their own hands, and also buy slaves or hire freemen to labor for them; but this is only a mixed, and not a distinct class. No principle stated is disturbed by the existence of this mixed class. Again, as has already been said, the opponents of the “mud-sill” theory insist that there is not, of necessity, any such thing as the free hired laborer being fixed to that condition for life. There is demonstration for saying this. Many independent men, in this assembly, doubtless a few years ago were hired laborers. And their case is almost if not quite the general rule.

The prudent, penniless beginner in the world, labors for wages awhile, saves a surplus with which to buy tools or land, for himself; then labors on his own account another while, and at length hires another new beginner to help him. This, say its advocates, is free labor—the just and generous, and prosperous system, which opens the way for all—gives hope to all, and energy, and progress, and improvement of condition to all. If any continue through life in the condition of the hired laborer, it is not the fault of the system, but because of either a dependent nature which prefers it, or improvidence, folly, or singular misfortune. I have said this much about the elements of labor generally, as introductory to the consideration of a new phase which that element is in process of assuming. The old general rule was that educated people did not perform manual labor. They managed to eat their bread, leaving the toil of producing it to the uneducated. This was not an insupportable evil to the working bees, so long as the class of drones remained very small. But now, especially in these free States, nearly all are educated—quite too nearly all, to leave the labor of the uneducated, in any wise adequate to the support of the whole. It follows from this that henceforth educated people must labor. Otherwise, education itself would become a positive and intolerable evil. No country can sustain, in idleness, more than a small percentage of its numbers. The great majority must labor at something productive. From these premises the problem springs, “How can labor and education be the most satisfactorily combined?”

By the “mud-sill” theory it is assumed that labor and education are incompatible; and any practical combination of them impossible. According to that theory, a blind horse upon a tread-mill, is a perfect illustration of what a laborer should be—all the better for being blind, that he could not tread out of place, or kick understandingly. According to that theory, the education of laborers, is not only useless, but pernicious, and dangerous. In fact, it is, in some sort, deemed a misfortune that laborers should have heads at all. Those same heads are regarded as explosive materials, only to be safely kept in damp places, as far as possible from that peculiar sort of fire which ignites them. A Yankee who could invent a strong handed man without a head would receive the everlasting gratitude of the “mud-sill” advocates.

But Free Labor says “no!” Free Labor argues that, as the Author of man makes every individual with one head and one pair of hands, it was probably intended that heads and hands should co-operate as friends; and that that particular head, should direct and control that particular pair of hands. As each man has one mouth to be fed, and one pair of hands to furnish food, it was probably intended that that particular pair of hands should feed that particular mouth—that each head is the natural guardian, director, and protector of the hands and mouth inseparably connected with it; and that being so, every head should be cultivated, and improved, by whatever will add to its capacity for performing its charge. In one word Free Labor insists on universal education.

I have so far stated the opposite theories of “Mud-Sill” and  “Free Labor” without declaring any preference of my own between them. On an occasion like this I ought not to declare any. I suppose, however, I shall not be mistaken, in assuming as a fact, that the people of Wisconsin prefer free labor, with its natural companion, education.

This leads to the further reflection, that no other human occupation opens so wide a field for the profitable and agreeable combination of labor with cultivated thought, as agriculture. I know of nothing so pleasant to the mind, as the discovery of anything which is at once new and valuable—nothing which so lightens and sweetens toil, as the hopeful pursuit of such discovery. And how vast, and how varied a field is agriculture, for such discovery. The mind, already trained to thought, in the country school, or higher school, cannot fail to find there an exhaustless source of profitable enjoyment. Every blade of grass is a study; and to produce two, where there was but one, is both a profit and a pleasure. And not grass alone; but soils, seeds, and seasons—hedges, ditches, and fences, draining, droughts, and irrigation—plowing, hoeing, and harrowing—reaping, mowing, and threshing—saving crops, pests of crops, diseases of crops, and what will prevent or cure them—implements, utensils, and machines, their relative merits, and [how] to improve them—hogs, horses, and cattle—sheep, goats, and poultry—trees, shrubs, fruits, plants, and flowers—the thousand things of which these are specimens—each a world of study within itself.

In all this, book-learning is available. A capacity, and taste, for reading, gives access to whatever has already been discovered by others. It is the key, or one of the keys, to the already solved problems.

And not only so. It gives a relish, and facility, for successfully pursuing the [yet] unsolved ones. The rudiments of science, are available, and highly valuable. Some knowledge of Botany assists in dealing with the vegetable world—with all growing crops. Chemistry assists in the analysis of soils, selection, and application of manures, and in numerous other ways. The mechanical branches of Natural Philosophy, are ready help in almost every-thing; but especially in reference to implements and machinery.

The thought recurs that education—cultivated thought—can best be combined with agricultural labor, or any labor, on the principle of thorough work—that careless, half performed, slovenly work, makes no place for such combination. And thorough work, again, renders sufficient, the smallest quantity of ground to each man. And this again, conforms to what must occur in a world less inclined to wars, and more devoted to the arts of peace, than heretofore. Population must increase rapidly—more rapidly than in former times—and ere long the most valuable of all arts, will be the art of deriving a comfortable subsistence from the smallest area of soil. No community whose every member possesses this art, can ever be the victim of oppression in any of its forms. Such community will be alike independent of crowned-kings, money-kings, and land-kings.

But, according to your programme, the awarding of premiums awaits the closing of this address. Considering the deep interest necessarily pertaining to that performance, it would be no wonder if I am already heard with some impatience. I will detain you but a moment longer. Some of you will be successful, and such will need but little philosophy to take them home in cheerful spirits; others will be disappointed, and will be in a less happy mood. To such, let it be said, “Lay it not too much to heart.” Let them adopt the maxim, “Better luck next time;” and then, by renewed exertion, make that better luck for themselves.

And by the successful, and the unsuccessful, let it be remembered, that while occasions like the present, bring their sober and durable benefits, the exultations and mortifications of them, are but temporary; that the victor shall soon be the vanquished, if he relax in his exertion; and that the vanquished this year, may be victor the next, in spite of all competition.

It is said an Eastern monarch once charged his wise men to invent him a sentence, to be ever in view, and which should be true and appropriate in all times and situations. They presented him the words: “And this, too, shall pass away.” How much it expresses! How chastening in the hour of pride!—how consoling in the depths of affliction! “And this, too, shall pass away.” And yet let us hope it is not quite true. Let us hope, rather, that by the best cultivation of the physical world, beneath and around us; and the intellectual and moral world within us, we shall secure an individual, social, and political prosperity and happiness, whose course shall be onward and upward, and which, while the earth endures, shall not pass away.

SOURCE: Roy P. Basler, Editor, Collected Works of Abraham Lincoln, Vol. 3, pp. 471-82

Congressman Horace Mann to Mr. and Mrs. George Combe, December 5, 1851

WASHINGTON, Dec. 5, 1851.

MY DEAR FRIENDS MR. AND MRS. COMBE, — Politics in this country do not, as they should, mean a science, but a controversy; and in this sense we are all involved in politics. When will the time come that politics can be taken from the domain of passion and propensity? I have no doubt that such a millennium is in the future. Nor will the whole world enter that millennium at the same time. Wise and sage individuals like Mr. George Combe must be the pioneers: then it must be colonized by a larger number, and then entered and dwelt in by all. But I fear the epochs and eras which will mark and measure these successive stages of consummations are to be geological in their distance and duration. Doubtless you have seen a book entitled the "Theory of Human Progression," which, from internal evidence, is Scotch in its origin, and whose object is not only to prophesy, but to prove, the future triumph of peace and justice upon earth. I have read but part of the book. I am reading it to my wife at odd hours, when our chances of leisure come together. I have long believed in the whole doctrine; but it is delightful to see it argued out, not only to take the Q. E. D. on authority, but to feel the truth of the solution. All sciences, even the natural ones, have been the subjects of controversy and of persecution in their beginning: why, then, should not the science of politics? One truth after another will be slowly developed; and by and by truth, and not individual aggrandizement or advantage, will be the only legitimate object of inquiry. Then will its millennium come! - Doubtless you have through the public papers the political movements of the country at large. The old struggle for supremacy between the political parties goes on; but worse means are brought in to insure success than ever before entered into our contests. The North (or free States) comprises almost two-thirds of all our population; the South (or slave States) but about a third. The North is really divided into two great parties, Whigs and Democrats. These are arrayed against each other in hostile attitude; and, being nearly equal, they cancel each other. The South is Whig or Democratic only nominally. It is for slavery exclusively and intensely. Hence we now present the astonishing and revolting spectacle of a free people in the nineteenth century, of almost twofold power, not merely surrendering to a proslavery people one-half the power, but entering into the most vehement competition to join with them in trampling upon all the great principles of freedom. We have five prominent candidates for the next Presidency. All of them are from the North. The South does not put forward as yet a single man; for Mr. Clay can hardly be considered a candidate. Each one of the five candidates begins with abandoning every great principle of constitutional liberty, so far as the black race is concerned; and to this each one has saddled more and more proslavery gratuities and aggrandizements, as the propositions he advanced were made at a later period of time. All Whigs professed to be shocked when Gen. Cass offered in substance to open all our new Territories to slavery. But Mr. Webster's accumulated proslavery bounties, as compared with those of Gen. Cass, were as "Pelion to a wart." Mr. Buchanan offers to run the line of 36° 30′ through to the Pacific Ocean, and to surrender all on the south side of it to slavery. Mr. Dallas, late Vice-President under Mr. Polk, tells the South that the antislavery spirit of the North will never be quiet under the compromise measures and the Fugitive-slave Law; and so proposes to embody this whole series into the Constitution by an amendment, thus putting them beyond the reach of legislative action. And Mr. Douglas, a young senator from Illinois, who aspires to the White House, offers Cuba to the South in addition to all the rest. In the mean time, the South sets forth no candidate for the Executive chair. Some of their leading politicians avow the policy of taking a Northern man, because "a Northern man with Southern principles" can do more for them than any one of their own. All of them are virtually saying to Northern aspirants, "Proceed, gentlemen; give us your best terms: and, when you have submitted your proposals, we will make our election between you." Is it not indescribably painful to contemplate such a picture, — no, such a reality? You must feel it as a man: I feel it as an American, you as a lover of mankind, I as a lover of republican institutions.

You will, of course, understand that such contests cannot be carried on without corresponding contests in the States. In Massachusetts, many collateral issues have mingled with the main question. Mr. Webster's apostasy on the 7th of March, 1850, had not at first a single open defender in our Commonwealth. Some pecuniary arrangements were made by which one or two papers soon devoted themselves to his cause. In a few days after the speech, he visited Boston; and, at a public meeting to receive him, he held out, in unmistakable language, the lure of a tariff, if they would abandon principle. This interested motive appealed to both parties. It was pressed upon them, both in public and in private, during the whole summer, and indeed until the approaching termination of the 31st Congress showed that it was only a delusion and a cheat.

During the summer, another pecuniary element was introduced. The merchants of New York sought a monopoly of Southern trade through a subserviency to Southern interests. The merchants of Philadelphia and Boston forthwith became competitors for the same profits through the same infamous means. In this way, within a twelvemonth, all the Atlantic cities were carried over to the side of Southern policy. I believe I told you of efforts made against myself, and their result, in the last year's election of a representative to Congress from my district. Since that time the process of defection has gone rapidly on, spreading outwards from the city, and contaminating the country. The great body of the Whig merchants and manufacturers in the Northern States now advocate Mr. Webster for the Presidency. This, of course, determines the character of the mercantile papers. A large meeting was held in Boston last week to nominate him for that office. He is expected soon to resign his secretaryship, and to travel South on an electioneering tour. His health is very much impaired; and that glorious physique, which should be in full vigor at the age of eighty, is now nearly broken down. He can do nothing but under the inspiration of brandy; and the tide of excitement also must be taken "at the flood;" for if a little too early, or a little too late, he is sure to fail.

In Massachusetts we have had a fierce contest for State offices. Mr. Winthrop was the Whig candidate for Governor; and his election would have been claimed as a Webster triumph, though not justly so. But he falls short of an election by about eight thousand votes. The Free-soilers and Democrats combined, and have obtained a majority in both the Senate and the House. This secures an anti-Whig Governor, and is a triumph of antislavery sentiment. We have never had a more fiercely contested election. I was "on the stump," as we say, about three weeks, speaking from two to two and a half hours almost every evening. Since the election, I have been delivering lyceum lectures; so that you may well suppose I am pretty much "used up." With this term in Congress, I hope to escape from political broils, and to live a life more in accordance with both natural and acquired tastes. . . .

H. M.

SOURCE: Mary Tyler Peabody Mann, Life of Horace Mann, p. 352-5

The Delegates.

There is a great army of earnest men in Chicago to-day, brought together from all parts of the country by a common impulse and for a common purpose. Every free state in the Union, and several of the slave states are largely represented and by men who belong to the very best, because the most intelligent and liberal, class of citizens in their respective states.

If any one has settled into the belief that the nominee of the Chicago convention cannot be elected, we think the presence of this earnest multitude, representing the hosts of freemen, and reflecting all sections, ought to dispel the illusion.

Never before has a national convention been attended by more of the representative men of the people, and never has such a firm, determined purpose been exhibited to wrest the government from hands that have proved unworthy of the trust of a great people.—Chicago Journal, 15th.

SOURCE: “The Delegates,” Janesville Weekly Gazette, Janesville, Wisconsin, Wednesday, May 16, 1860, p. 2, col. 5.

Speech of Congressman Albert G. Brown, November 2, 1850

DELIVERED AT ELLWOOD SPRINGS, NEAR PORT GIBSON, MISS., NOVEMBER 2, 1850.

FELLOW-CITIZENS: I shall speak to you to-day, not as Whigs, not as Democrats, but as citizens of a common country having a common interest and a common destiny.

The events of the last ten months have precipitated a crisis in our public affairs which many of the wisest and sagest among us have fondly hoped was yet distant many long years.

It is not my purpose to enter upon a critical review of the late most extraordinary conduct of the President and of Congress. I am not at liberty to suppose, that a people whose dearest rights have been the object of attack for ten months and more, have failed to keep themselves informed of the more prominent events as they have transpired. We ought, to-day, to inquire what is to be done in the future, rather than what has been done in the past.

I confess my inability to counsel a great people as to the best mode of proceeding in an emergency like the present. Instead of imparting advice to others, I feel myself greatly in need of instruction. But, I will not on this account refuse to contribute an expression of my own best reflections, when, as in this instance, I am called upon to do so.

To the end that you may clearly understand my conclusions, it will be necessary for me to present a brief summary of the events which have brought us to our present perilous condition. To go no further back than the last year, we shall find that in Mississippi, at least, the great body of the people were aroused to a sense of the impending danger. At a meeting assembled in the town of Jackson early in the last year, both Whigs and Democrats united in an address to the country, giving assurance that the time had come for action.

Gentlemen of high character, of great popularity, and merited influence, headed this meeting; a convention of the state was recommended, and every indication was given to the country that, in the judgment of these gentlemen, the time had actually come for bold and decisive action. This movement was seconded in almost every county in the state; and wherever the people assembled, delegates were appointed to a general state convention; and in every instance, so far as I am informed, these delegates were chosen from the two great political parties, one-half Whigs and the other half Democrats. The contemplated convention assembled at Jackson, in October, and recommended a convention of the Southern States, to assemble at Nashville, at some future day, to be agreed upon among the states. The Mississippi movement was responded to with great unanimity in several of our sister states—in Virginia, South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida. There seemed to be for a time, a very general and united sentiment in favor of the proposed convention at Nashville. The scheme was not without warm and influential friends in North Carolina, Tennessee, Arkansas, Louisiana and Texas. The other slaveholding states, to wit, Maryland, Kentucky, and Missouri, gave little or no indication of a disposition to favor it. Early in the autumn of 1849 some of the first friends of the southern movement began to falter; and, as time advanced, they continued to recede from their bold stand in defence of the South. The secret influences which were at work to produce these unhappy results, will be found, I apprehend, elsewhere than in the places now pointed out. We are now told by some, that they discovered a better state of feeling at the North toward the South. Others pretend to have been convinced that the movement was premature, and calculated to embarrass the action of Congress; whilst a much more numerous, and a much more dishonest class, pretend to have discovered that this convention was to be nothing less than an assemblage of conspirators, treasonably bent on the destruction of the Union.

Whilst all this was going on, the sagacious politician and the man of thought did not fail to see the true reasons for all this infidelity to a once cherished and favorite measure. The truth was, that ambitious and aspiring politicians had discovered that the southern movement was distasteful to General Taylor, General Cass, and other distinguished gentlemen, then high in the confidence of their respective party friends. The movements in California began to develope the true policy of General Taylor, and the "Nicholson Letter" had received a new reading from General Cass. It became apparent that the South must be sacrificed, or party leaders repudiated, and party ties obliterated, and politicians had begun to take sides accordingly, when Congress assembled in December. Up to this time, however, there remained enough of southern influence to keep a powerful phalanx of southern men closely allied for common defence. The effort to organize the House of Representatives, made it manifest, that the South meant something more than an idle bravado in the course she had taken. For almost an entire month, the first successful step in the election of a Speaker had not been taken; and at last, when Mr. Cobb was chosen, it was by a plurality, and not, as usual, by a majority of the votes given. At this time, there was manifested the most determined spirit in defence of the rights of the South. Still, the close observer could not fail to see that the insidious spirit of party was busy at work.

President Taylor transmitted his annual message to Congress, and General Cass treated us to another reading of the "Nicholson Letter."

The President's message did not lift the curtain high enough to exhibit all that had been done in California. He gave us a bird's eye view, and told us to go it blind for the balance. He intimated that he had very little to do with the proceedings in California; yet he presented a paper which he denominated the constitution of California; and in two several communications, he pressed the consideration of that paper upon Congress, and he earnestly recommended the admission of the state of California into the Union at an early day.

These proceedings, and these earnest recommendations, could not fail to elicit a searching investigation on the part of southern members. It became a matter of interesting inquiry, as to who made the pretended constitution; how the people came to be assembled for that purpose; who appointed the time for holding the elections; who decided on the qualification of voters; who decided that California had the requisite population to entitle her to one or more representatives in Congress, without which she could not be a state. It was known that Congress had never so much as taken legal possession of the country, and it became a subject of anxious inquiry to know who it was that had kindly performed all the functions usually devolved on Congress; who it was that, in aid of the legislative power of the country, had taken the census to ascertain the population; had passed upon the qualification of voters; had appointed the time, place, and manner of holding elections; who it was, in short, that had done all that had usually been required preparatory to the admission of a new state into the Union.

It was seen at once that no census had been taken; and although the Constitution required that the representatives should be apportioned among the states according to population, no steps had been taken to ascertain whether California had the requisite population to entitle her to one member, whereas she was claiming two. It was seen that the time, place, and manner of holding the elections, had all been arranged by a military commander, notwithstanding the Constitution required that this should be done by law. It was seen, and admitted on all hands, that California was asking admission on terms wholly and entirely different from those on which other states had made similar applications. Gentlemen favoring her admission, were wont to answer our objections with a shrug of the shoulders, and a lamb-like declaration that "there had been some irregularity." Irregularities, fellow-citizens! Shall conduct like this, pass with that simple and mild expression that it was "irregular?" Was it nothing more than irregular to dispense entirely with taking a census? Was it only a little irregular to permit everybody to vote-white, black, and red; citizens, strangers, and foreigners? Was it simply irregular for General Riley, by a military proclamation, to decide the time, place, and manner of holding the elections? Was it, I ask you, fellow-citizens, nothing more than an irregular proceeding, for a military commander to dispense entirely with the authority of Congress, the law-making power, and of his own will to set up a government hostile to the interests and rights of the Southern States of this Union? If the rights and interests of all the states had been respected, and all had concurred in the opinion that the proceeding had only been a little irregular, it might have been passed over with a mental protest against a recurrence of its like in future.

But when it is seen that these "irregularities" amount to a positive outrage upon fourteen states of the Union, an outrage against which these states earnestly protested, it becomes us to inquire more seriously into the causes which led to their perpetration, and to take such decisive measures as shall protect us against like "irregularities" in future. Does any man doubt that slavery prohibition lay at the bottom of all the "irregularities" in California?

Does not every one know, that but for the question of slavery, these unprecedented outrages would never have been perpetrated? Is there a gentleman outside of a lunatic asylum who does not know that if California had framed a pro-slavery instead of an anti-slavery constitution, her application for admission into the Union would have been instantaneously rejected? And yet, in view of all these and a thousand other pregnant facts, we are expected to content ourselves with a simple declaration that "the proceeding was a little irregular, but it was the best that could be done." What, fellow-citizens, does this whole matter amount to, as it now presents itself? The southern people joined heart and hand in the acquisition of territory-shed their blood-laid down their lives-expended their treasure in making the acquisition, and forthwith the federal authority was employed to exclude them from all participation in the common gain. The threat was uttered, and kept constantly hanging over them, that if they dared enter those territories with their slave property, it would be taken from them. Thus were they intimidated and kept out of the country; no slave-owner would start to California with his slave property, when Congress was day by day threatening to emancipate his negroes, if he dared to introduce them into that country. Not content with thus intimidating southern property, the federal power was employed in instigating an unauthorized people to do that which the Congress of the United States had not the power to do, to wit, to pass the "Wilmot proviso."

It is well known that the California constitution contains the "Wilmot proviso" in terms. It is equally well know that this proviso has been sanctioned by Congress, and that the sanction of Congress imparts to it its only vitality. Without that sanction, it is a nullity, a dead letter, an absolute nought. Who, then, is responsible for it but Congress-the Congress which gave to it its sanction, and thereby imparted to it vitality, and moved it into action? Congress, we are told, could not, and dared not pass the proviso; but the people of California could propose it, and Congress could sanction it, and thereby give it existence. The people of Ohio, Pennsylvania, New York, and other states, might ask Congress to pass the "Wilmot proviso," but Congress dare not do it, because there was no power under the Constitution to authorize it; but if the people of California asked it, then it was a very different question-then Congress had all the constitutional power which the case required. Let the truth be told. The Wilmot proviso was an old question; it had been discussed-its enormity had been exposed, and the mind of the South was firmly and fixedly made up not to submit to its passage. It was necessary, therefore, to take this new track, and before the South could recover from her surprise, pass the odious proviso, and then present the naked issue of a humiliating submission on the one side, or disunion on the other.

Who, fellow-citizens, were these people of California, whose voice has been so potential in the work of your exclusion, your humiliation, and your disgrace? — were they American citizens? No, sir, no! they were adventurers from all parts of the world. In this blood-bought country may have been found the Sandwich Islander, the Chinese, the European of every kingdom and country. That there were many American citizens in the country, is most true; but the whole were mixed up together, and all voted in the work of your exclusion. How humiliating to a Southron, to see his own government thus taking sides against him, and standing guard, while foreign adventurers vote to take from him his rights, and then to see that government seizing hold of such a vote and holding it up as a justification of the final act of his ignominious exclusion. Can any true son of the once proud and noble South witness these things without a blush? Does patriotism require us to hug these outrages to our bosom? Must we forget our natural interests, and kiss the hand that inflicts these cruel blows? Have we sunk so low that we dare not complain of wrongs like these, lest the cry of disunion shall be rung in our ears?

It would have been some consolation to know that the framers of this California constitution meant to live under it themselves. Even this little boon is denied us. We all know that the men who have gone to California are mere sojourners there; they mean to stay a little while, and then return to their homes in other parts of the world. Hundreds and thousands have already left the country, and others will follow their example. Not one-half of the persons who aided in the formation of the so-called constitution of California are there now; and in a year or two more the population will have undergone an entire revolution.

We have heard that there were many hundred thousand people in California. The number in the country at the time the constitution was framed has been estimated at two hundred thousand or more, and this has been constantly urged in excuse for their assumption of the right to make a constitution and set up an independent state government.

When asked by what authority a few interlopers from abroad undertook to snatch from the rightful owners the rich gold mines on the Pacific, and to appropriate to free soil all that vast territory lying between the thirty-second and forty-second degrees of north latitude-embracing an area larger than the states of Louisiana, Mississippi, Tennessee, and Alabama-we have been told they were a great and growing people; that there were a quarter of a million of inhabitants in the country, and hundreds of thousands on their way there. Let us examine the truth of these bold assertions. If there is any country on earth where there are no women and children, where the whole population consists of full-grown men, that country is California. We all know that the emigration has been confined to the adult male population, who have gone on a visit of observation, leaving their families and friends behind, and intending to return. We all know that in the matter of voting there was no restriction; every male inhabitant over the age of twenty-one years was allowed to vote, and on the important question of adopting a state constitution, the poll-books showed less than thirteen thousand voters. If there was a quarter of a million of people in the country, how shall we account for this meagre vote? The fact is, this is but another link in the great chain of deception and fraud by which we have been denied our rights n the country-by which we and our posterity have been cheated out of the most valuable property on earth-by which we have been reduced to the sad alternative of submitting to the most humiliating deprivation of our rights, or driven to a severance of the bonds which unite us to the North.

If the gross injustice, the deep injury and wrong which we are called upon to suffer, had ceased with the consummation of this California fraud, we might have bent our heads in humiliation and in sorrow, and, without daring to complain of the tyranny of our oppressors, have borne it in silence. But it did not stop here. The cup of our degradation was not quite full to overflowing; and it was determined to wrest from the slaveholding state of Texas, one-third of her rightful territory. In the perpetration of this fraud the North had two powerful allies, and both, I am pained to say, furnished by the South. One was the ten millions of dollars taken from a common treasury, and the other the vote of one-half the southern delegation in Congress.

I hold in my hand a map of Texas. It speaks more eloquently in defence of Texas than the ablest orator has ever yet spoken. Here on this map is the boundary of Texas, as marked first by her sword, and then made legible by the act of her Legislature in December, 1836. See, it extends from the mouth of the Rio Grande to the source of that river, and it reaches to the forty-second degree of north latitude. Here, too, is marked on this map the "Clay compromise line," and the" line of adjustment," as laid down in the final act of dismemberment, commonly known as Pearce's bill. Keep these lines in your memory, fellow citizens, while we recur for one moment to the history of the reannexation of Texas to the United States.

What is that history? I need not relate the whole of it. I need not say how like an ardent lover we wooed and won this fair daughter of the Saxon blood. Texas was young, blooming, and independent; we wooed her as the lover wooes his mistress. She fell into our arms, and with rapturous hearts we took her for better or for worse. Fathers Clay and Van Buren forbade the bans; but the people cried, with a loud voice, "Let the marriage go on." It did go on; Texas merged her separate independence into that of the United States, and here in my hands is the marriage contract. Here is the treaty, here the resolution of annexation. It will be seen that we took her just as she was just as she presented herself. We took that Texas which lay east of the Rio Grande, and all along that river from its mouth to its source, and south of the 42d parallel of latitude north. We took the Texas which was defined by the act of December, 1836; we took the Texas marked on this map. I hold it up before you. It is a portrait of the fair damsel as she was, before her limbs were amputated by the northern doctors, aided by surgeons Clay, Pearce, Foote, and others from the South.

Turn to the resolutions of annexation. I hold them here; without pausing to read them, I will state what no man can deny. They expressly stipulate, that all that part of Texas lying south of the parallel of 36 degrees and 30 minutes north latitude, shall remain slave territory; and all north shall be free territory after its admission into the Union as states. With this written agreement between the high contracting parties, how can any man come forward and say that Texas never extended to the parallel of 361 degrees? How dare any man pretend that Texas did not extend north of that line and up to 42 degrees? I will not insult your understanding by debating so palpable a proposition before you. It is as clear as the sun in yonder heavens, that at the period of annexation, the whole country supposed we were acquiring all the territory east of the Rio Grande, and up to 42 degrees. The only party on earth who expressed a doubt on this point was Mexico, and for acting on her expressed doubts, we went to war with her, all parties in this country at least uniting in the war; and when we had whipped her, and obtained not only her recognition of the Texas boundary, but a cession of New Mexico and California, into the bargain, what do we hear? Why, that Texas never owned one foot of territory north of 36 degrees. Though we agreed that all of Texas south of 364 should be slave territory, and all north of that line free territory, we are told that, in truth and in fact, Texas only extended to some undetermined point between 32 and 34 degrees of latitude north. Why do men thus stultify themselves? Why do men speak and attempt to reason for the purpose of throwing a cloud over the title of Texas to this territory? Need I tell you, fellow-citizens, that slavery! slavery!! slavery!!! and nothing but slavery, is at the bottom of all this business.

Take the question of domestic slavery out of the way, and this whole dispute about the true boundary of Texas could and would have been settled in nine hours, and in a manner most satisfactory to all parties. It was precisely because Texas was a slaveholding state, and her soil slave soil, beyond all cavil or dispute, that it was found important by the North to cut these ninety-three thousand sections off and attach them to New Mexico. As a part of Texas it was secure to the South; as a part of New Mexico, the North had the power and the will to make it free soil. If Texas and New Mexico had both been free, or both slave states, there would have been little or no dispute about the true boundary between them. Texas is, and must ever remain, a slaveholding state; New Mexico, if not already free soil, is under the dominion of northern power, and will be made so in due season. In these facts will be found the only reason for the nine months' struggle in Congress on the question of boundary. The northern mind is fully made up that no more slave states shall be added to the Union. This is more distinctly announced than any other article in their political creed. We all know this. And let me ask you, fellow-citizens, if there is one man among you all, who supposes that northern politicians, resolved as they all are to limit the slave states to their present number, would be so ridiculously silly as to cut off ninety-three thousand square miles of slaveholding Texas for the purpose of making of it one or two additional slave states? The North has the power to do as she pleases, and no man in this country doubts that she will please to make free territory of these ninety-three thousand square miles which she has wrested from Texas, with the aid of ten millions of dollars and a large number of southern votes.

I shall never forget the hour when this measure of gross iniquity to the South passed the House of Representatives. On Wednesday we defeated it by forty-four majority; on Thursday we defeated it again by eight majority; on Friday they carried it over us by ten votes; and when the result was announced, there went up from the lobbies, from the galleries, and from the floor of the Hall of Representatives, one long, loud, wild, maniac yell of unbridled rejoicing-the South was prostrate, and Free Soil rejoiced. The South was degraded, fallen, and her enemies rioted. Ten millions of dollars had been flung to the hungry pack who hang like wolves around the treasury, and there was frantic joy in all their hearts and upon all their tongues. They assembled on the banks of the Potomac, and in utter defiance of every decent regard for the father of his country-they assembled under the very shade of the Washington monument and there fired a hundred guns. Thus did they, in manifestation of their wild rejoicing over the prostrate South, and their own clutching of the ten millions of dollars. Nor did they pause here, but with drums beating, fifes blowing, and banners streaming, they paraded the streets of Washington. They called out Mr. Clay, and he spoke to them; they called out Mr. Cobb, Mr. Douglas, Mr. Foote, and I know not who else, and they all spoke to them. It was a night of riot and revelry. The foul deed had been done, and when there should have been sorrow and mourning, there was ecstasy and the wild notes of untamed rejoicing.

I left the street, filled as it was with this motley crew of free negroes and half-clad boys, bankers, brokers, barbers and beggars, northern Free Soilers and southern patriots-ay, southern patriots-patriots whose affections had out-grown their country, and who had taken "all the world and the rest of mankind" into their tender keeping-I left it and them, and retired to my private chamber, there to brood over the sorrows of my stricken and fallen country. But I was not long left to myself and the sorrows of my country. We were summoned to yet another sacrifice. The South no longer had the power of resistance, and a generous foe would not have stricken her again. But the northern wolf had tasted blood. The southern shepherd was unfaithful to his flock, and another lamb was taken.

The slave trade in the District of Columbia was abolished. It was by this name they called the deed. It was more than this. It was an act to punish the intentions of masters and to emancipate their slaves. The bill declares that if slaves are brought to the District of Columbia for the purpose of being sold in said district, or anywhere else, they shall be free. The law does not punish the act of selling or offering to sell, but it punishes the intention to sell; and how, pray? Not by fining the master, or by sending him to prison, but by emancipating his slave. How this law is to operate in practice, I need not say. It is to all intents and purposes an act of abolition. Under it, men's intentions will be judged of by swift juries, by abolition juries, and their slaves set at liberty. Does any man doubt that abolition juries will be found in the District of Columbia, and in the city of Washington? There are in the district sixteen thousand free negroes, and twenty-three hundred slaves. Slavery is wearing out there, and to-day, fellow-citizens, I would as soon risk a New York or Philadelphia jury on a question involving slavery, as a Washington City jury. The people there are growing more and more hostile to this species of property every day, and I pity the master who has his intentions tried before a jury taken from among them.

These, fellow-citizens, are the healing measures-the measures of peace. This the vaunted adjustment of which so much has been said, and for the passage of which the cannon has been fired, the drums beat, fifes blown, banners displayed, and all the evidences of national rejoicing exhibited.

I cannot believe in the sincerity of these singular demonstrations. I cannot think that our ignominious exclusion from California affords

cause for joy. I cannot believe that the bill to punish a master's intention, by emancipating his slave, has sent joy to southern hearts. I do not believe that the dismemberment of Texas has filled the South with rejoicing. Men make up their minds to submit to wrong, and pride induces them to put the best possible face upon it. Men whose hearts are wrung with agony, will smile, because they are too proud to weep. Men, like boys, may whistle to keep their courage up. But when causes like these exist for mourning, it is useless to tell me that men with southern hearts rejoice-the thing is impossible.

I am told that Texas has not been dismembered. That in the kindest spirit, the United States has proposed to pay her ten millions of dollars, to relinquish her claim to the territory which has been annexed to New Mexico. Let us examine the sincerity of this statement. The United States, speaking through the Executive, and through Congress, says to Texas: We want this country, and we mean to have it; you are weak, and we are strong. Give up the country quietly, and we will pay you ten millions of dollars; refuse, and here is the army, the navy, and the militia." Look at the power of the United States; look at the threat of the President to reduce Texas to submission. Look at the conduct of southern senators and representatives. Look at all this, and then turn your eyes towards Texas; see her feeble and weak, without money, without arms; in debt, and without credit; and tell me if it is left to her free choice to determine whether she will accept or reject this proposition? The overgrown bully approaches a weak and feeble man, without friends and without the means of defence, and says, "I want your land; give it up quietly, and I will pay you for it, and if you refuse, bear in mind, I am stronger than you, and here are my guns, here my daggers, and there my armed servants to do my bidding. Choose what you will do." Will not every man's sense of justice revolt at conduct like this? Is the man thus treated, a free agent? In thus taking his property, has not an outrageous wrong, a positive robbery, been perpetrated? I leave it to the good sense of this audience to give the answer.

But we are told that Texas is to be liberally paid, and therefore, if she accepts the proposition and gives up the land, we have no just cause of complaint. I do not know what sum of money would be liberal compensation to a sovereign state for being despoiled of one-third of her territory. For myself, I would not consent to sell the poorest county in Mississippi to the Free-Soil party for all the gold on this side of the Atlantic. But when I hear of the liberality of this proposition, it leads me to inquire who pays the money. We can all afford to be liberal at the expense of other people. Do the Free-Soilers pay this ten millions of dollars? Not at all; they get the land, that's clear, and that we pay the greater part of the money is equally clear. The money is to be paid from the national treasury. I am not about to launch into any discussion of the finances, but I want to show who it is that must pay this ten millions of dollars to Texas. We derive our national revenue chiefly from a duty levied on goods imported into the country. Now, it will not be denied that these imports are nothing else than the proceeds of the exports. It is perfectly clear that if we cut off the exports, we suspend the imports. If we have nothing to sell, we shall have nothing to buy with, and consequently imports must cease; and if imports cease, revenue will cease. We shall export this year, in cotton alone, near one hundred millions of dollars in value; this will form the basis of one hundred millions of dollars in goods imported.

If the government levies a duty of thirty-five per cent. on these, her revenue from this source alone will be thirty-five millions of dollars. Now, suppose we abstract this cotton from the exports, do we not see that we cut off the imports to a like extent, and in cutting off the imports that we likewise cut off the revenue? But seeing all this, says one, I do not yet perceive that you have shown how it is that the cotton grower pays the revenue. Go with me, if you please, a little further. Suppose my friend who sits before me, and who raises five hundred bales of cotton, shall ship that cotton, and himself dispose of it in Liverpool for twenty-five thousand dollars. Suppose he invests the money in merchandise and lands it in New Orleans. The government charges him a duty of thirty-five per cent. for the privilege of landing his goods. Now answer me this question, would it have been any worse for my friend to have been charged thirty-five per cent. on the value of his cotton as he went out, with the privilege of bringing back his goods free of duty, than it would be to let him take his cotton free of charge and tax him thirty-five per cent. duty on the return cargo? For myself, I cannot see that it would make the least difference whether he paid as he went out, or as he came in. But I am told the planter does not bring back the proceeds of his cotton. He sells it, and the importing merchant brings back the proceeds and pays the duty. Let it be borne in mind that every man who handles the cotton, from the moment it leaves the planter until it comes back in the form of merchandise, handles it on speculation; and I should like to know which one of these speculators it is that loses the thirty-five per cent. which the government collects. The treasury receives the money; somebody pays it; and in my judgment, that somebody is the planter. The slaveholding states furnish two-thirds of our entire exports, and if I am right in this theory, they pay two-thirds of the revenue, and consequently will pay two-thirds, or nearly seven millions of the ten millions of dollars given to Texas for the territory of which she has been so unjustly despoiled.

I beg pardon for this digression, and shall return at once to the subject before us.

What compensation has been offered the South for her interest in all the vast territories derived from Mexico, for this spoliation of Texas, and the emancipation act in the District of Columbia? We are told that the North gave us the fugitive slave law. This, fellow-citizens, was our right under the Constitution. It could not be refused. No man who had sworn to support the Constitution could refuse to vote for an efficient law for the surrender of fugitive slaves, unless he was willing to commit wilful and deliberate perjury. I do not thank the North for passing the fugitive slave law. I will not thank any man or any power for doling out to me my constitutional rights. If the North will execute the law in good faith, I shall think better of them as brethren and friends than I now do. Time will determine whether they will do this.

These acts have passed. They are now on the statute books, and the question arises--shall we tamely submit to their operation, and if we resist, in what manner, and to what extent shall we carry that resistance? I am not appalled by the cry of disunion, so often and so foolishly raised, whenever resistance is spoken of. There are things more terrible to me than the phantom of disunion, and one of these is tame submission to outrageous wrong. If it has really come to this, that the Southern States dare not assert and maintain their equal position in the Union, for fear of dissolving the Union, than I am free to say that the Union ought to be dissolved. If the noble edifice, erected by our fathers, has become so rickety, worm-eaten, and decayed, that it is in danger of falling every time the Southern States assemble to ask for justice, then the sooner it is pulled down the better. I am not so wedded to the name of Union as to remain in it until it shall fall and crush me.

I have great confidence that the government may be brought back to its original purity. I have great confidence that the government will again be administered in subordination to the Constitution; that we shall be restored to our equal position in the confederacy, and that our rights will again be respected as they were from 1783 to 1819. This being done, I shall be satisfied-nothing short of this will satisfy me. I can never consent to take a subordinate position. By no act or word of mine shall the South ever be reduced to a state of dependence on the North. I will cling to the Union, and utter its praises with my last breath, but it must be a Union of equals; it must be a Union in which my state and my section is equal in rights to any other section or state. I will not consent that the South shall become the Ireland of this country. Better, far, that we dissolve our political connection with the North than live connected with her as her slaves or vassals. The fathers of the republic counselled us to live together in peace and concord, but these venerable sages and patriots never counselled us to surrender our equal position in the Union. By their lives, they gave us lessons in the hornbook of freedom. If Washington could speak to us to-day from the tomb, he would counsel us against submission. He resisted less flagrant acts of usurpation and tyranny, and took up arms against his king. The flatterers of royalty called this treason. If we resist the greater outrages, can we hope to escape the name of traitor?

Let me say to you, in all sincerity, fellow-citizens, that I am no disunionist. If I know my own heart, I am more concerned about the means of preserving the Union than I am about the means of destroying it. The danger is not that we shall dissolve the Union, by a bold and manly vindication of our rights; but rather that we shall, in abandoning our rights, abandon the Union also. So help me God, I believe the submissionists are the very worst enemies of the Union. There is certainly some point beyond which the most abject will refuse to submit. If we yield now, how long do you suppose it will be before we shall be called upon to submit again? And does not every human experience admonish us that the more we yield, the greater will become the exaction of the aggressors? To the man who thinks and says that we have been wronged, and yet submits in sullen silence, I can only say, you reason badly for the Union. But to the man who rejoices in the late action of Congress, who fires cannon, beats drums, and unfurls banners with mottoes of joy written on them to such a man I can say, with a heart filled with sorrow, however well meant these acts may be, they invite aggression on our rights, and will lead to certain and in inevitable disunion.

The best friend of the Union is he who stands boldly up and demands equal justice for every state and for all sections. If I have demanded more than this, convince me, and I will withdraw the demand. But I shall stand unawed by fear and unmoved by flattery in demanding for Mississippi the same justice that is meted out to the greatest and proudest state in the Confederacy.

If the Union cannot yield to this demand, I am against the Union. If the Constitution does not secure it, I am against the Constitution. I am for equal and exact justice, and against anything and everything which denies it.

This justice was denied us in the "adjustment bills" which passed Congress. But we are not to infer that the fault was either in the Union or in the Constitution. The Union is strength, and if not wickedly diverted from its purposes, will secure us that justice and that domestic tranquillity which is our birthright. The Constitution is our shield and our buckler, and needs only to be fairly administered to dispense equal and exact justice to all parts of this great Confederacy.

Has the South justice in California? Have her rights been respected in any part of the territories? Has she been fairly dealt with in the matter of the Texas boundary? Was good faith observed in the passage of the anti-slavery bill for the District of Columbia? Does the North exhibit a spirit of love, charity, good neighborhood, and brotherly kindness in the perpetual warfare which she wages on our property? Is the Union now what it was in 1783? Did our fathers frame a constitution and enter into a union which gave the right of aggression to one-half the states, and obliged the other half to submit without a murmur? Would Washington, and Jefferson, and Madison, have entered into such a union with Adams, and Hancock, and Jay? To all these questions there can be but one answer, we all know. Every thinking, reasoning man knows, that in the war upon slavery, the Constitution and the Union have been diverted from their original purposes. Instead of being shields against lawless tyranny, they have been made engines of oppression to the South. And am I, a southern citizen, to be deterred from saying so by this senseless cry of disunion? Am I to see my dearest rights taken from me, and my countrymen denied all participation in, or enjoyment of the common property, and be afraid to speak ? Must I witness the dismemberment of a southern state and a whole catalogue of wrongs, and fail to speak, lest the Union shall crumble and fall about my ears? I hope the Union is made of sterner stuff, but I am free to say, if the Union cannot withstand a demand for justice, I shall rejoice to see it fall.

I will demand my rights and the rights of my section, be the consequences what they may. It is the imperative duty of every good citizen to maintain and defend the Constitution and the Union, and this can only be done by demanding and enforcing justice. Let us make this demand and let us enforce it, and let the consequences rest on the heads of those who violate the Constitution and subvert the Union in this war upon justice, equality, and right.

We are told that our difficulties are at an end; that, unjust as we all know the late action of Congress to have been, it is better to submit, and especially is it better, since this is to be the end of the slavery agitation. If this were the end, fellow-citizens, I might debate the question as to whether submission would not be the better policy. Such is my love of peace, such my almost superstitious reverence for the Union, that I might be willing to submit if this was to be the end of our troubles. But I know it is not to be the end. I know it has not been the end thus far. What have we seen? On the passage of all these bills through Congress, the North stood shocked and overawed at the enormity of the wrong done the South; but Washington city rejoiced, Baltimore rejoiced, Richmond rejoiced. Instead of the thunder notes of resistance coming back upon the capitol, we were greeted with songs and shouts, and the merry peals of hearts filled with joy. Seward, the abolition senator from New York, encouraged by these indications, introduced a bill to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia. It got only five votes. The North had not yet recovered from the shock which a glance at her own bold work had inflicted on her. After a few more days, the news of rejoicing at Louisville, at Augusta, and Nashville, came rolling back upon the wings of the lightning, and Seward asked another vote, and the result was nine in the affirmative. The cautious Dayton, and the still more cunning Winthrop, and men of that class, all the while protesting that it was yet too soon to urge that measure. They saw and knew full well that the firing of cannon and beating of drums were empty signs. They judged rightly, that no people rejoice in heart at their own degradation. But this rejoicing still went on; they fired the cannon, and beat the drums, and flung out their banners all over the South-at Natchez and New Orleans, at Mobile and at Jackson, at Memphis and Montgomery. Not only were the Giddingses and the Sewards, the Chases, Hales, and Kings, and all the enemies of the South, thus assured that there would be no resistance, but, in the echo of the booming cannon and in the shrill notes of the merry fife, they were assured that the South was filled with rejoicings and merry songs. What was the effect of all this? Why, fellow-citizens, the vote was taken in the House on the bill to abolish slavery out-and-out in the District of Columbia, and it got fifty-two votes, and there were twenty-nine of its friends absent the largest vote ever given in Congress on the direct proposition. Look at these things. Look to the fugitive slave law in New York, Massachusetts, Ohio, and elsewhere. Look to the late extraordinary triumph of Seward in New York. Look to the success of the Free Soilers in the late elections. Listen to the notes of preparation everywhere in the Northern States, and tell me if men do not wilfully deceive you when they say that the slavery agitation is over. I tell you, fellow-citizens, it is not over. It never will be over so long as you continue to recede before the pressure of northern power. You cannot secure your rights; you cannot save the Union or the Constitution, by following the timid counsels of the submissionists. Pursue these counsels, and they will lead to a sacrifice of all that we hold dear-of life, liberty, property, and the Union itself. By a submission you may secure, not a union, but a connection with the North. It will be such a connection as exists between Ireland and England, Poland and Russia, Hungary and Austria. It will not, it cannot be the Union of our fathers-it cannot be a union of equals.

You can save the Union, fellow-citizens, and you can do it by a stern resistance to wrong.

I have seen the Free Soil elephant of the North. He is governed by the instincts of his species. He never crosses a bridge without first pressing it with his foot to see if it will sustain his ponderous frame. Make the bridge strong, and he will cross; but let it be weak, and he will stay on his own side. If you want this Free-Soil elephant among you, make the bridge strong, give him assurance of submission, convince him that he may pass the gulf that divides you in safety, and he will come among you and destroy you. If you would keep him out, show him the yawning chasm, and convince him that if he attempts to cross he will be precipitated to the bottom, and, my life upon it, he will be content to remain at home.

The North will inflict all that the South will bear, even to a final emancipation of the negro race. She will inflict nothing that you will not bear.

I am detaining you, fellow-citizens, beyond the time which I allotted to myself; allow me to bring these remarks to a close.

I am for resistance. I am for that sort of resistance which shall be effective and final. Speaking to you as a private citizen, I shall not hesitate to express my individual opinions freely and fearlessly as to the best mode of resistance. I do not ask-I do not expect any one to adopt my opinions. They are the result of my own best reflections, and they will not be abandoned, except to embrace others more likely to prove effective in practice.

I approve of the governor's convocation of the legislature. The measure was called for by the emergencies of the hour, and was, in my judgment, eminently wise and proper.

I trust the legislature will order a convention of the state. Give the people a chance to speak. Let the voice of the sovereign state be heard speaking through a regularly-organized convention, and it will command respect. Our bane has been our divisions. We never can unite as one man-our people are too much imbued with the early prejudices of their native homes. Congregated from all the states of the Union, and from many foreign countries, they never can unite on one common platform. But the majority can speak, and if that majority speaks through a convention legally elected, its voice will silence dissension. It will be the voice of a sovereignty-it will command respect.

What if three-fourths of the people of Mississippi are for resistance, the other fourth makes as loud a noise, and their voice sounds as large in New York or Massachusetts. What if five-sixths of your delegation in Congress have spoken the sentiment of the state, the other sixth has protested that he speaks the voice of the state. Let the people speak! Let them speak through the ballot-box. Let a convention be called, and through that convention, let us speak the sentiments of the sovereign state.

I should hope that such a movement in Mississippi would be responded to in most, if not all the Southern States. I should have great confidence that South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Florida, would meet us on a common platform, and resolve with us to stand or fall together.

I speak with great deference, but with the utmost freedom as to what course Mississippi and the other states should pursue. I speak for myself alone, and no man or party is in any way responsible for what I say.

We should demand a restoration of the laws of Texas in hæc verba over the country which has been taken from her and added to New Mexico. In other words, we should demand the clear and undisputed right to carry our slave property to that country, and have it protected and secured to us after we get it there; and we should demand a continuation of this right and of this security and protection.

We should demand the same right to go into all the territories with our slave property, that citizens of the free states have to go with any species of property, and we should demand for our property the same protection that is given to the property of our northern brethren. No more, nor less.

We should demand that Congress abstain from all interference with slavery in the territories, in the District of Columbia, in the states, on the high seas, or anywhere else, except to give it protection, and this protection should be the same that is given to other property.

We should demand a continuation of the present fugitive slave law, or some other law which should be effective in carrying out the mandate of the Constitution for the delivery of fugitive slaves.

We should demand that no state be denied admission into the Union, because her constitution tolerated slavery.

In all this we should ask nothing but meagre justice; and a refusal to grant such reasonable demands would show a fixed and settled purpose in the North to oppress and finally destroy the Southern States. If the demands here set forth, and such others as would most effectually secure the South against further disturbance, should be denied, and that denial should be manifested by any act of the Federal Government, we ought forthwith to dissolve all political connection with the Northern States.

If the Southern States, in convention, will lay down this or some other platform equally broad and substantial, and plant themselves upon it, I know there are hundreds and thousands of good men and true at the North, who will take positions with them, and stand by them to the last. In the present condition of our counsels, we can never expect support from the North. Distracted and divided at home and in Congress, those at the North who are disposed to aid us, are left in doubt as to which is the true southern side of the question. Suppose Mr. Dallas, Mr. Paulding, or some other friend of the South, should undertake our defence, would he not be met with language like this: "Look at Clay, look at Benton, look at Houston, look at hundreds in the South-listen to the roar of their cannon and the music of their drums, and do you, sir, pretend to know more of southern rights than the South knows of her own rights." What could our northern friends say to a speech like this? No, fellow-citizens, no! Do not place your friends at the North in this condition. Erect a platform on which they may stand and fight your battles for you. When the Free-Soiler points to the Clays, the Bentons, the Houstons, and others, enable your friends to point to Mississippi and Georgia, and Alabama, and South Carolina, assembled in conventions. And when the Free-Soiler appeals to the cannon roaring and the drums beating, let your friends appeal to the voice of sovereign states demanding justice, equality, and liberty on the one side, or disunion on the other.

If I hesitate to embrace the doctrine of disunion, it is because the North has, to some extent, been inveigled into her present hostile position towards the South by our own unfaithful representatives, and encouraged to persevere in the mad policy by the ill-advised conduct of some of our own people. A portion of the southern senators and representatives voted for the admission of California, and large numbers sustained the Texas spoliation bill. The whole advantages of these measures inured to the benefit of the North, and we could not reasonably expect northern men to do more for us than our own representatives. We have great reason to complain of the North, but we have much greater reason to complain of our own unfaithful servants. The North is deceived as to the true condition of southern sentiment, but they have been deceived by our own people. Let us undeceive them. Let us prepare to strike for justice, equality, liberty. But let us first give fair warning, and let that warning be given in an authentic and authoritative form. Let us do this, and if then we are forced to strike, we shall be sustained by all good men, we shall be sustained by God, and our own clear consciences.

These are my opinions, fellow-citizens, freely expressed. I do not ask you to sanction them or to adopt them as your own, unless you approve them. I have but one motive, and that is to serve my afflicted country. Wholly and entirely southern in my sentiments and feelings, I have never debated with myself what course it were best for me to pursue. Ambition might have led me to the North, but as I loved the land of my birth more than the honors and emoluments of power and of place, I have taken sides with the South. Her destiny shall be my destiny. If she stands, I will stand by her, and if she falls, I will fall with her.

SOURCE: M. W. Cluskey, Editor, Speeches, Messages, and Other Writings of the Hon. Albert G. Brown, A Senator in Congress from the State of Mississippi, p. 246-61