“O fortunati nimium sua si bona norint.”
“O fortunati nimium sua si bona norint.”
“O fortunati nimium sua si bona norint.”
This enlightened policy has been adopted in conjunction with the luminous constellation of distinguished worthies, by whom he is surrounded; whose exalted character and talents add to the usefulness, the dignity, and splendor of his measures, and increase to an extent almost incalculable the general sum of the happiness of this great and independent nation.
Turning our eyes to those who have exercised the high and responsible functions of legislation, we find their acts equally deserving commendation. Their proceedings are calculated to excite at once the envy and the admiration of their opposers and the world. They breathe not the fell spirit of resentment and persecution. To their honor be it spoken, that, instead of enlarging the circle of offence, they have reduced the scale of criminality. They have abolished an odious, and, I believe, an unconstitutional sedition law, which had been executed with a rigor and severity perfectly congenial with the passionate policy which gave it birth. The decrees under it, if not written in the blood of the sufferers, were written in their tears. A more dreadful engine of persecution and oppression cannot well be conceived. With this instrument in their hands, they could have smote their enemies and shielded themselves. It would have been a sword and a buckler, but they disdained the idea.
Actuated by the best motives, with the honest view of purifying the fountain of justice, and restoring the characters of the American bench, they are now engaged in the unpleasant, but indispensable task of bringing to exemplary punishment a judge who has offended against the letter and the spirit of the constitution, and the well-known statutes of Congress; who has violated the bounden duties of his office, and that high legislative act, which, to the sanction of a law, added the solemnity and obligation of an oath.
In this important undertaking they are contending not for themselves, but for posterity; not for those in power, but those whom power has forsaken. Against all the wild theories of new-fangled opinions and the monstrous iniquity of exploded doctrines, they wish to teach a lesson of instruction to future judges that, when intoxicated by the spirit of party, they may recollect the scale of power may one day turn, and preserve the scales of justice equal.
It appears that Fries had been tried in the year 1799, before Judges Iredell and Peters, and convicted of the crime of high treason. His counsel afterwards moved for a new trial, on the ground that one of the jury had been prejudiced against him—that he had not in fact been an impartial juror in the case. The Court, consisting of the same judges, upon argument, ordered a new trial to be had. A new trial, according to the best authorities, is “a rehearing of the cause before another jury, but with as little prejudice to either party as if it had never been heard before.” In this light Judge Chase should have considered it. He ought to have gone to Pennsylvania with a mind totally unprejudiced, and viewed every circumstance of the case with the utmost impartiality. The very circumstance which produced the second trial ought to have put him sufficiently on his guard. When a new trial has been directed, to use the language of the respondent in his answer, “solely on the ground that one of the jury” (a single man out of twelve) “after he was summoned, but before he was sworn on the trial, had made some declarations unfavorable to the prisoner,” how ought an impartial judge to have felt and to have acted? Mr. Chase, let it be recollected, presided in a court composed of but two members. With this lesson before his eyes, we find the respondent forming an opinion in his closet on the law of treason, applicable to the case of poor Fries, and not satisfied with making up his own mind on this subject, he took care to bind the judgment of his associate, by obtaining his approbation of that opinion, which he reduced to writing for the purpose. This irregular and reprehensible measure was adopted before the hour of trial arrived, when the man whose life was at stake was to be heard on a subject that involved his existence. This bold step in the path to conviction, has been defended on plausible grounds, and by subtle refinements.
The respondent in his answer and the learned counsel in their defence, have endeavored to prove that this conduct was not only right, but perfectly proper and correct. Among the various pretexts eagerly laid hold of to justify this novel procedure, they urge as a reason for prejudging and despatching a capital case, the multiplicity of civil business pending in the same court! I will forbear to inquire into the facts on this point, though I believe there is not a spark of testimony to prove the allegation to its full extent, because, if the docket had been loaded with civil suits, it would form no excuse for hurrying through a criminal trial, on the issue of which the life of a fellow-citizen depended. That cause must be bad indeed that requires to be propped by such miserable expedients. When I first read this passage in the answer, it struck me with astonishment, and excited a burst of indignation which it is my duty to repress. “A multitude of civil business is depending, and therefore I must make up my mind conclusively on the law in a capital case, before the proper season arrives, without hearing a single word from the prisoner or his counsel in defence!” The learned judge certainly did not reflect on the effect of such an excuse, which instead of palliating his conduct, aggravates it. That he was in a great hurry, every part of his conduct proves. From the opinion, a copy of which is annexed to his answer, it would appear that he did not intend to make it public, at least until after the jury had been sworn and Fries was on his trial. In that we find these expressions: “The Court heard the indictment read on the arraignment of the prisoner some days past,and just now on his trial, and they attended to the overt acts stated in the indictment.”
This honorable Court will recollect that the whole current of the testimony proves, and the defendant in his answer admits, that he delivered the papers containing thisex parteopinion before Fries’s trial commenced. Such was his eagerness to despatch the case, with a view, he says, of reaching expeditiously the civil list. As if gifted with the spirit of intuition and with an infallible judgment, he seems not to have proceeded on the principle ofcastigatque auditque, but to have improved even upon that model, considering it not necessary for him to hear arguments at any stage of a cause, for the purpose of forming a correct opinion. His counsel ask us whether it be a fault in a judge to have a profound knowledge of the law, which will enable him to decide promptly any question that may occur; and the respondent said, on Fries’s trial, that “he had an opinion in point of law as to every case which could be brought before the Court, or else he was not fit to sit there.” Yet, when Callender’s trial was progressing, we find this same judge, upon a common point of practice relative to a challenge to the jury, calling out for Coke on Littleton to be brought into court before he could make up his mind on the subject.
The aid of precedent has been called in to justify this wide departure from principle, and it is contended that the opinion was correct in point of law. My honorable friend (Mr. Randolph) has detected and exposed the fallacy of this species of justification. I will remark that a great and respectable character (Lord Mansfield) has observed, that he is a most unrighteous and wicked judge who decides without hearing both sides—even when he decides correctly—because his judgment is the effect of chance or accident, and not the result of a fair, full, and impartial investigation. Precedents, let me observe, do not make the law, they are merely evidence of it; nor is the law to be absolutely decided by precedents,judicandum est legibus, non exemplis. “If a judge conceives that a judgment given by a former court is erroneous, he ought not in conscience to give the like judgment, he being sworn to judge according to law,” says Lord Chief Justice Vaughan. But Judge Chase declares that, had he differed in opinion from former precedents, even in a capital case, he should have held himself bound by them. But here let me ask, what are those precedents to which he subscribes? It is not my intention to go at full length into the discussion of them, or comment at large on the law of treason. My object is, on this interesting occasion, to enter a solemn protest against doctrines which would entail on us all the constructive treasons of another country, and to assign in a few words the reasons of my opinion. I am not to be deterred from my duty by the assertion that no counsel of eminence would controvert the principles laid down by the respondent in hisex parteopinion, more especially when characters of such high standing at the bar as Mr. Lewis and Mr. Dallas, have honorably and conscientiously opposed such monstrous doctrines. The Western insurrection in Pennsylvania was materially different from the momentary disturbances in the counties of Bucks and Northampton. The precedents which arose from one could not be applicable to the other, and the cases of Mitchell and Vigol, which have been cited, are readily distinguished from that of Fries.
In the first, the combination was formed and organized to seizeallrecords and papers, and to destroyalloffices, to expelallofficers in the whole survey. The insurgents traversed the country armed, seized papers, attacked offices, and drove officers out of the country.
They seized and imprisoned the marshal, who escaped and returned to Philadelphia by a circuitous route.
They assembled at Cooche’s fort, consulted on the attack upon Colonel Neville’s house, marched thither in military array, summoned him to surrender by a flag, set fire to his house, and destroyed his records. They assembled at Braddock’s field; deliberated on taking the garrison at Pittsburg; marched thither with that avowed object; but finding the garrison prepared for defence they filed off.
They assembled after the proclamation, andafter the militia were ordered to march. They avowed an intention to resist. They compelled the Government to negotiate. The leaders, Bradford and Marshal, fled on the approach of the army, and the insurgents generally accepted the terms of amnesty, as in a case of treason. The army was, however, maintained for some time in the country.
In the last, the people were illiterate, ignorant of the laws and language. They did not conspire to act themselves, but to preventparticularinferior officers from acting, by making the assessments inparticulartownships.
They acted like a mob, in obstructing the progress of the officers by threats, hooting, &c., and once they took an officer’s tax list or papers, but immediately returned them.
They assembled expressly to release or rescue aparticularset of prisoners whom they called their neighbors.
They rescued the prisoners, and withdrew without injuring or attempting to injure the marshal, or the tax officers who were at Bethlehem.
They never suggested the idea of resisting the army. They dispersed as soon as the proclamation was issued, and they never met afterwards.
The distinctions are striking and obvious.
In the insurrection of 1794, the object was general; in the riot of 1799, it was particular.
In 1794, the insurgentsactedas assailants; the rioters of 1799 stood on the defensive, and only obstructed the officers in attempting to act.
In 1794, the design of attacking a fort and resisting the army was deliberately formed, and overt acts committed to carry it into effect; in 1799, the idea of attacking or resisting the military power of the Government never was suggested.
In 1794, the sedition act had not provided for combinations to impede the execution of a particular law. In 1799 that act was in existence.
In 1794, the outrage extended to the seizure of the marshal to prevent his executing any process. In 1799, it was confined to the release of a particular set of friends and neighbors.
The precedents, therefore, of Mitchell and Vigol, which have been so much relied upon, did not, I humbly submit, apply to the case of poor Fries. But the defendant has dwelt much on the opinion expressed by Judge Iredell, in his charge to the petit jury on the former trial of Fries, notwithstanding the verdict was set aside, which was given on that occasion, and Judge Chase should have proceeded on the second trial, as little prejudiced by any opinions on the former, as if such trial had never taken place. It appears from the testimony of Mr. Dallas, that so confident was he of the broad difference between the cases of 1794 and 1799, that in the first trial he did not advert to the former, little suspecting that they would be considered as precedents for the latter. When he found, by the charge of Judge Iredell, that he did unexpectedly rely upon them, his intention was, in the second trial, to direct his arguments to the manifest distinctions between them. In this, however, he was disappointed by the arbitrary conduct of the defendant. Under these circumstances, can this case be considered binding and obligatory; or, is a single precedent to make the law, and absolutely prevent counsel from controverting it?
The case of Fries was succeeded by that of Callender. There is seldom one act of crying injustice without being followed by another. It is the misfortune, if not the fault, of the respondent, that his conduct compels us to unfold more than one solitary case, in which he grossly violated his duty and the laws of the land.
Callender had written a book, which I never saw until since the commencement of this trial—a wretched performance, which ought never to have excited in the breasts of the honest supporters of the late Administration any passion but contempt. They should have applied to it the memorable declaration of one who once figured in political life, “a wise and virtuous Administration is not to be battered down by mere paper shot.” The respondent, it appears, was furnished by one of his present counsel, (Mr. Martin,) when in the act of setting off for the district of Virginia, with a copy of this formidable work, which threatened destruction, in his opinion, to the Federal fabric. The book was ready scored to his hands, so that, with a single glance, he might discover the fatal passages. With this volume for a “vade mecum, or travelling companion,” he proceeded to Richmond to hold a circuit court. Soon after his arrival a presentment was made and an indictment found against Callender. The miserable object of persecution was hunted up and down the country. At length he was discovered by the marshal and brought into court. To the indictment he pleaded not guilty, and able and eminent counsel appeared to defend him.
Callender not being prepared with the testimony necessary to substantiate his defence, an affidavit was filed in due form, which stated ample grounds to postpone the trial of the cause, and upon which the Court ought certainly to have granted a continuance.
What are the objections raised against the motion to postpone, founded on this affidavit, and the reasons urged in support of the respondent’s refusal to put off the trial? They are truly singular. One is a refined technical objection to the form of the affidavit, because it does not state in strict legal language that Callender expected to be able to procure at a future time the attendance of the witnesses. But he states facts which prove on the face of them, that by postponing the trial he could obtain the benefit of their testimony, for he mentions the places of their residence, all of them within the United States. I say the case is stronger than if,secundum formam, he had sworn that he could procure their attendance. When he tells where they lived, the Court must have beensatisfied on this point. However, the respondent assigns a curious reason to be sure, for his conduct. If the witnesses who were absent were actually before the Court, and were to prove all that Callender had stated or expected, it would riot have justified all the libellous passages that had been selected from the book and thrown into the indictment. How was Judge Chase to know but that Callender had testimony as to those points on which his absent witnesses would not have deposed?
The respondent, it seems, was willing to postpone it for a particular period, provided he would be present at the trial. Nay, he would go all the way to Delaware, and return again to accomplish an object he seems to have had so much at heart. In my humble opinion this part of the Judge’s conduct proves stronger than almost any other of his acts, the motives which influenced him. If I were to select any one circumstance to prove that his intentions were improper, I would lay my hand on this. “I will not postpone this important trial until the next term, because, according to the arrangement, I shall not then be on this bench, but I will agree to delay it for a shorter period, and travel three or four hundred miles in order to accommodate Mr. Callender with my presence on the trial.” Did any lawyer ever hear of such conduct? Did they ever hear of a court adjourning to a particular time, to try a single solitary case of a common misdemeanor?
I do respectfully submit, for the reasons assigned, that the conduct of the learned judge, in refusing to postpone the trial of Callender, was a most manifest violation of the principles of law, and was attended with such circumstances as render it highly improbable that it proceeded from a mere error in judgment.
From Virginia, flushed with success and elated with his triumph over Callender, the respondent hastened to Delaware. The night preceding the day on which the respondent was to hold the court, he lodged at the village of Christiana, about five miles distant from the court-house. From this place he rode into Newcastle the next morning with Dr. William McMechin, who was summoned as a grand juror to the court, and it is in evidence, was actually sworn on the panel. This is the very man, who, it is represented, gave the respondent the information relative to the seditious printer. As a grand juror it was his duty to communicate to his fellows any offences against the laws of the land which had come to his knowledge, and it was the duty of the grand jury to present every criminal act punishable by the laws of the United States. We are bound to pronounce that Mr. McMechin put the rest of the grand jury, for he was sworn so to do, in complete possession of all the information which he communicated to the respondent. With these circumstances, the respondent was perfectly well acquainted. He saw with his own eyes the very man impanelled on the inquest who had opened the budget to him, and knew it was his duty to unfold the intelligence to his brethren. The respondent proceeds to deliver an appropriate charge to the jury—a charge free from all those blemishes which stain a subsequent performance of the same kind. He presented to their view in chaste and eloquent language the proper subjects for their inquiry. In my humble opinion it may have been equalled but never excelled. I considered it, according to my poor judgment at the time, a perfect model; the most finished piece in style and substance that I ever heard addressed to a grand jury. Had he stopped here he would have been an object of praise rather than complaint. Had he been contented with discharging his official duty, he would have been entitled to our thanks, rather than merited an accusation.
The grand jury retire to their chamber, and after some time return to the box. To the credit of the then marshal of the Delaware district, I must observe, that he had manifested on that occasion, (as I know him uniformly to have done, even when the storm of party raged with the greatest violence,) in the selection of his jurors, an independence becoming the responsible station which he filled. They were not men of pliant tempers, nor were they carefully culled from the ruling sect, but chosen without respect to party, from the most respectable of both sides. It gives me great pleasure to speak of such conduct, because I wish to hold it up as an example. The grand jury were asked by the clerk in the usual form, “Have you any bills or presentments to make?” Their foreman respectfully answered they “had not.” On this, the judge could no longer bridle his temper. He had anticipated perhaps a treat from the prosecution of an obnoxious printer, and expected to regale his palate with a favorite dish. Provoked by disappointment, his passion burst into a flame, and he condescended to stoop from his bench, for the purpose of seizing on his prey. It was at this period he betrayed emotions so highly reprehensible, and so very unsuitable to the dignity of his situation. In a tone, well adapted to the exceptionable language, he observed to the grand inquest, “What! no bills or presentments?” This was matter of astonishment to him, and he proceeded to make the observations so correctly described by Mr. Read, the District Attorney of Delaware, a gentleman of irreproachable life and manners, whose character is not only unimpeached but unimpeachable, and Mr. Lea, one of the grand jury themselves, to whom part of the observations were addressed, a merchant of established reputation, and as a man respected by all who are acquainted with him. Sir, after the observations I have made on positive and negative testimony, I will not stop to demonstrate that every thing stated by Mr. Read and Mr. Lea was said, though not recollected by some other witnesses. I will barely mention that all the extra-judicial remarks of the respondent were addressed to the grand jury or to the district attorney. They must, therefore, naturally be presumed to havepaid the strictest and closest attention to all that fell from the learned judge, and we have produced one of the grand inquest themselves, and the district attorney, to prove the language he used. I feel confident, under these circumstances, that implicit credit will be given to them. I am also convinced that the statement made by the respondent is scarcely more favorable to his cause. The grand jury repeat, to the interrogatory put to them by the respondent, the answer which they gave to the previous question of the clerk, and request additionally that they may be discharged, as many of them were farmers, and it was hay harvest, a very busy season with them. But no matter for that, the business of the persecution, for I will not say prosecution, must go on if possible. The judge would not discharge the grand jury on the first day, agreeably to general practice, as proved by Judge Bedford, though pressed so to do. He proceeds to give them information of the seditious temper which had manifested itself in the State, and particularly in Newcastle County: a county, which, suffer me to say, is well known from its old and unshaken patriotism from the Revolution to the present day. But he did not stop here; he proceeds to mention a seditious printer, point out the place where he lived, and the borough of Wilmington, justly celebrated for its uniform attachment to the cause of republicanism, and, according to his own answer, to specify the title of his paper, and just as his name was escaping from his lips, a returning sense of propriety checked his speech. Sensible how deeply he had committed himself already, he paused for reflection. But he had gone too far to effect a safe and honorable retreat. He calls on the district attorney to know if a file of the papers cannot be had. Some officious person offers to procure them, and the respondent directs the district attorney to examine them and lay them before the grand jury, who are ordered to attend the next morning. They do accordingly attend, the file of the papers is laid before them and examined. Behold, after all his exertions, the respondent had his labor for his pains; after all this noise and bustlemontes parturiunt, and not evenridiculus mus nascitur. The grand jury return once more to the box without any bills or presentments, and the learned judge with admirable address covers his defeat.
The conduct of the learned judge at the circuit court in Maryland, furnishes, I consider, one of the strongest articles of impeachment. I had intended to have dilated very much at length on this charge, but the fatigue of yesterday has really indisposed me, and I have already trespassed too much on your time.
Every member of this Court must have been sensible of the impropriety of the respondent’s conduct on that occasion. Every reflecting man must be decidedly opposed to the idea of blending political discussion with the legal observations which ought to proceed from the bench. A party harangue little comports with the temperate and learned charges to be delivered by the president of a court. The character of an electioneering partisan, whose rostrum is a stump, or whose stage is the head of a hogshead, is utterly inconsistent and incompatible with that of a grave and upright judge. The duty of a judge is to expound the laws, and not to exercise the office of a censor over them, and much less to disgrace himself by reprobating them in a manner calculated to excite groundless alarm and apprehensions in the minds of the people, and to alienate their affections from the Government. Every man in his individual capacity possesses the undoubted right to advocate the political principles which he believes most beneficial to his country. The respondent as an individual is entitled to this privilege in common with his fellow-citizens, and to the free exercise of his splendid talents in such a case. But does this justify him as a judge in his judicial character, and from the judgment seat, to preach political sermons, and impose his private dogmas on the people, under the garb of administering the laws? Sophistry may for a moment confound two things perfectly distinct in their nature and effect, but the mist vanishes before the light of argument.
It will be conceded that there yet exist State jealousies against the General Government, the acts of which are closely watched and scrutinized. When the Constitution of the United States was framed, it was the legitimate offspring of a liberal spirit of accommodation, which reconciled jarring interests,discordia semina rerum. It requires the patriotic exertion of every good man to preserve and to promote a reciprocal cordiality between the General and State Governments. The officers particularly of each should manifest a respect and reverence which would inspire at once confidence and attachment. What language can express the criminality of the respondent, when from the bench of the United States he undertook to thunder anathemas against the act of the Legislature of an individual State? Was this a part of his duty, or was it not? Can there be a doubt, sir, but that it was a gross violation of his duty, and that the respondent well knew it at the time? Yet such were his unbridled passions and his uncontrolled prejudices, that, regardless of the station which he held, and the dignified post which he occupied, he did not hesitate to commit the character of the United States by conduct which must have irritated the audience against the government of Maryland and its officers. If ever amobocracytake place in this country, it will be brought about by such instruments and such conduct. Let those clothed with the laws become the violators of them, let the judges of the United States issue fulminations against the measures of individual States, and the judges of the different States retaliate, by declaiming against the acts of the General Government, and the consequences are easily foreseen.
When a poor miserable object like Callender,without character and without influence, censures the measures of our Administration, or reprobates an unconstitutional law, the respondent considered him guilty of a crime and deserving of punishment. But a man elevated to the bench may declaim in the strongest language against any measure or law of the United States, or of an individual State with perfect impunity! Recollect, sir, that if the defendant be justified in reprobating a single law of the United States, he has the right to reprobate them all indiscriminately. It is without question the duty of a judge to inculcate a respect and a reverence for the laws of the land. But, sir, the respondent, so far as he was able, has endeavored to excite the indignation of the people against them, and to terrify them into an opposition to measures which he has chosen from the bench to denounce, by the dread of amobocracyand other alarming stories unworthy the columns of a common newspaper, and scarcely equalled since the days of the Rye House, and of Titus Oates.
Mr.Randolph.—Mr. President: The course which has been pursued by my learned colleagues and right excellent friends leaves but a barren field in which to glean after them. I shall, therefore, present you with the most condensed view that I can take of the subject, endeavoring, as far as possible, to avoid the ground which has been already trodden; and should I fail in this attempt, I hope to be pardoned, as having been absent during a great part of this discussion. Very far indeed is it from my intention, by tiresome repetitions, yet more to weary the patience of the Court, and prolong that decision which is anxiously awaited by all. I was not present when the defence was opened, in a style so honorable to himself, by the junior counsel of the respondent, (Mr. Hopkinson.) I was then ill abed. I regret the loss of the very able argument which he is said to have urged against the first article. God forbid that the time shall ever come with me when merit shall be disparaged because found in an adversary. Report speaks fairly of the gentleman’s performance, and I am willing to credit her to the utmost extent.
Suffer me to say a few words on the general doctrine of impeachment, on which the wildest opinions have been advanced—unsupported by the constitution, inconsistent with reason, and at war with each other. It has been contended that an offence, to be impeachable, must be indictable. For what then I pray you was it that this provision of impeachment found its way into the constitution? Could it not have said, at once, that any civil officer of the United States, convicted on an indictment, should (ipso facto) be removed from office? This would be coming at the thing by a short and obvious way. If the constitution did not contemplate a distinction between an impeachable and an indictable offence, whence this cumbrous and expensive process, which has cost us so much labor, and so much anxiety to the nation? Whence this idle parade, this wanton waste of time and treasure, when the ready intervention of a court and jury alone was wanting to rectify the evil? In addition to the instances adduced by my right worthy friend, (Mr. Nicholson,) who first addressed the Court yesterday, permit me to cite a few others by way of illustration. The President of the United States has a qualified negative on all bills passed by the two Houses of Congress, that he may arrest the passage of a law framed in a moment of legislative delirium. Let us suppose it exercised, indiscriminately, on every act presented for his acceptance. This surely would be an abuse of his constitutional power, richly deserving impeachment; and yet no man will pretend to say it is an indictable offence. The President is authorized by the constitution to return any bill presented for his approbation, not exceeding ten days, Sundays excepted, within which period he may return it to the House wherein it originated, stating his reasons for disapproving it. Now let us suppose that, at a session like the present, which must necessarily terminate on the third of March, (and that day falls this year on a Sunday,) the President should keep back until the last hour of an expiring Congress, every bill offered to him for signature during the ten preceding days, (and these are always the greater part of the laws passed at any session of the Legislature,) and should then return them, stating his objections, whether good or bad is altogether immaterial. It is true that a vote of two-thirds of each branch may enact a law in despite of Executive opposition; but, in the case I have stated, it would be physically impossible for Congress to exercise its constitutional power. Indeed, over the bills presented to the President within nine days preceding its dissolution, the Legislature might be deprived of even the shadow of control, since the Executive is not bound to make any return of them whatever. Now, I ask whether such misconduct in the President be an indictable offence? And yet is there a man who hears me who will deny that it would be a flagrant abuse, under pretence of exercise of his constitutional authority, for which he ought to be impeached, removed, and disqualified? Sir, this doctrine, that impeachable and indictable are convertible terms, is almost too absurd for argument. Nothing but the high authority by which it is urged, and the dignified theatre where it is advanced, could induce me to treat it seriously. Strip it of technical jargon, and what is it but a monstrous pretension that the officers of Government, so long as they steer clear of your penal statutes—so long as they keep without the letter of the law—may, to the whole length of the tether of the constitution, abuse that power, which they are bound to exercise with a sound discretion, and under a high responsibility for the general good?
Mr. President, through every stage of this transaction you perceive every symptom of guilt—trepidation, remorse, and self-abasement. Look at the consultation at Rawle’s, who was followed home by the judges as soon as the Court rose. Recollect the conversation which ensued, and the conduct of the Court on the following day, when the respondent is said to have atoned for his misbehavior; although, in the same breath, you are told there was no offence to expiate. Do you recognize in that procedure an honorable and manly acknowledgment of unintentional error, which, from a sense of justice, the respondent was anxious to rectify? Or do you behold the sullen perverseness of guilt, half ashamed to confess its offences, yet trembling at their consequences?—now soothing, now threatening its adversary—every characteristic of conscious crime? Sir, I blush for the picture which the gentleman has drawn of his client; and I ask you, Mr. President, if such a character is fit to preside in a court of justice?—a man whose violent temper and arbitrary disposition perpetually drives him into acts of tyranny and usurpation, from which, when vigorously opposed, he must disgracefully recede; equally ready to take an untenable position, or meanly to abandon it. To-day, haughty, violent, imperious; to-morrow, humble, penitent, and submissive; prostrating the dignity of his awful function at the feet of an advocate, over whom, but the day before, he had attempted to domineer. Is this a character to dispense law and justice to this nation? No, sir! It demands men of far different stamp—firm, indeed, but temperate; mild, though unyielding; neither a blustering bravo, nor a timid poltroon. I speak not of private character; with it I have nothing to do. It is the official conduct only that concerns me. I have no hesitation in saying that such men are not fit to preside in your judiciary; and that the greatest abilities, when joined to such tempers, serve but still more to disqualify their possessors.
I must here reiterate my regret at losing the argument of the gentleman who opened the defence. I understand him to have said, (speaking of Fries,) “Could that man be ‘innocent,’ who had been twice convicted of treason? Could he be ‘illiterate,’ who pretended to expound the constitution? Could he be ‘friendless,’ who had arrayed his numerous followers in opposition to the laws of his country?” Sir, this is a very pretty specimen of antithesis; but, unfortunately for itself, it proves too much, whilst, as to the question before the Court, it proves nothing. Does the gentleman believe the London mob, in 1780, to have been among the most influential men in England? or, because their discontents grew out of religion, that they were more deeply read in canon law than any other body of men in that kingdom? They far surpassed the Northampton rioters in depth and intricacy of research. They undertook to expound the Constitution of the Church of England. But, unfortunately for this gentleman, the guilt or innocence of his honorable client is in nowise affected by the guilt or innocence of this poor German and his comrades. The respondent stands charged with a departure from the principles of the constitution and the established forms of law, in conducting the trial which was to ascertain the guilt or innocence of John Fries. What has this to do with his character? How does that affect the question? Guilty or innocent, he was entitled to a fair and impartial trial, according to the known usage and forms of law; for, be it remembered in such cases,formissubstance. It is the denial of this sacred right, which the constitution equally secures to the most hardened offender as to persecuted virtue—this daring outrage on the free principles of our criminal jurisprudence, that constitutes the respondent’s crime. If Fries was innocent, what language can sufficiently reprobate the conduct of the judge? An innocent man, by his procurement, iniquitously consigned to an ignominious death. If guilty, he ought to have expiated his guilt upon a gibbet. But what was the fact? The President of the United States, in consequence of the arbitrary and unprecedented conduct of the Court, was, in a manner,compelledto pardon him. The public mind would never have brooked the execution of any man thus tried and condemned. By the misdemeanor of the respondent, then, to rescue the administration of justice from the foulest imputation, to make some atonement for the offended majesty of the constitution, the Executive was reduced to the necessity of turning loose upon the country, again to sow the seeds of disaffection and revolt, a man represented by the adverse counsel to be every way desperate and daring—a traitor and a rebel. Upon what other principle, sir, can you account for the President’s application to the prisoner’s counsel, and his subsequent pardon? I repeat, Mr. President, that it is wholly immaterial to the question before you, whether John Fries was or was not a traitor. Either alternative is fatal to the respondent. He is charged with oppression and injustice on the trial, and you have not only the clearest testimony of the fact, but it is in proof before you that such was the President’s motive in issuing the pardon. He must have believed that the sentence was in itself unjust, (which serves but to aggravate the respondent’s guilt,) or he must have acted (as I am unwilling to concede he appears to have done) on the ground that, however deserving of punishment, the prisoner had been unfairly tried, and his condemnation illegally obtained. Whichsoever of these positions betrue, the defence set up on behalf of the respondent isfalse. What have you seen? A man condemned to death, unheard, by a prejudiced jury and an unrighteous judge, thirsting for his blood; the Executive demanding to hear that defence, to which the Court would not listen, and extending the arm of its protection to snatch the victim from the oppressor’sgrasp. And will you now turn this man loose upon society, armed with the terrors of the law and secure in impunity, to perpetrate similar offences?
But our opponents have not only resorted to the practice in civil cases, which here is totally inapplicable, but they have brought forward English precedents before the Revolution, and decisions of the court ofStar Chamber! Precedents drawn from the worst periods of their history, from hard, unconstitutional times—decisions from the most flagitious tribunals, whose very name has passed into a proverb of corrupt, unfeeling tyranny. For an account of this Star Chamber I would refer you to John, Lord Somers, of whom it has been said, not with more elegance than justice, that, “like a chapel in a palace, he alone remained unpolluted, whilst all around was profanation and uproar.”
“We had a privy council in England (says this great constitutional lawyer) with great and mixed powers;we suffered under it long and much. All the rolls of Parliament are full of complaints and remedies; but none of them effectual till Charles the First’s time.The Star Chamber was but a spawn of our council, and was called so only because it sat in the usual council chamber. It was set up as a formal court in the third year of Henry VIII.,in very soft words, ‘to punish great riots, to restrain offenders too big for ordinary justice; or, in modern phrase, to preserve the peace.’ ‘But in a little time it made the nation tremble.The privy council came at lastto make laws by proclamation, and the Star Chamber ruined those that would not obey. At last they fell together.’” (Hatsell’s Precedents, vol. 4, page 65, Note.) Is this the court whose adjudications are to justify the decisions of an American tribunal in the nineteenth century? And in a case oftreason, too? Is this vile and detestable tribunal (whose decisions, even in England, are scarce suffered to be drawn into precedent) to furnish rules of conduct for the courts of this great confederate Republic? Yes, sir, you have not only been obliged to listen to Star Chamber doctrines, but you have been referred to one most arbitrary magistrate to justify the oppressions of another. I allude to Chief Justice Keelyng. Who he was may be seen in the same volume of Hatsell, page 113.
“On the 16th of October, 1667, the House being informed, ‘that there have been some innovations of late in trials of men for their lives and deaths;’ [the very offences charged upon the respondent;] ‘and in some particular cases restraints have been put upon juries, in the inquiries’—this matter is referred to a committee. On the 18th of November, this committee are empowered to receive information against the Lord Chief Justice Keelyng, for any other misdemeanors besides those concerning juries. And on the 11th of December, 1667, this committee report several resolutions against the Lord Chief Justice Keelyng, of illegal and arbitrary proceedings in his office.” The first of these resolutions is: “That the proceedings of the Lord Chief Justice, in the cases now reported are innovations in the trial of men for their lives and liberties: and that he hath used an arbitrary and illegal power, which is of dangerous consequence to the lives and liberties of the people of England, and tends to the introducing of an arbitrary government.” The respondent’s own case. The second resolution is, “that in the place of judicature”—[how does this bear upon the eighth article?] “the Lord Chief Justice hath undervalued, vilified, and contemned Magna Charta, the great preserver of our lives, freedom, and property.” And the authority of this infamous judge, the minion of Charles II.,—of judges in the most corrupt period of English history, from the restoration of that king to the revolution, is relied upon by his counsel to absolve the respondent from guilt. Permit me to do their client more justice. I do believe that the man who is held up here as a revolutionary patriot, of 1776, although in a moment of human infirmity he hath imitated their crimes, would blush to be justified by their example. For his sake I rejoice in that visitation of God which hath saved him this last degradation: from seeing his defence rested upon the authority of those infamous times, and yet more infamous men, with whom, with all his weakness and all his infirmities upon him, he would yet (I am persuaded) disdain a comparison. Yes, I do feel relieved that he hath been spared the disgraceful spectacle of beholding himself defended by his friends on principles more unjust and iniquitous, if possible, than have ever been imputed to him by his enemies: that he hath not been reduced to see those very decisions, prior to the revolution, cited in his defence, which he himself denied to a fellow-creature put in jeopardy of life! The benefit of these decisions (it seems) can be taken only by the powerful oppressor—they offer no shelter to his victim. I thank God, sir, that I have indeed studied at the feet of far different Gamaliels from the honorable Attorney-General of Maryland, or those by whom, it would appear, he has been brought up; that I have drawn my notions of justice and constitutional law from a far different source—not from the tribunals of Harry VIII., nor the tools and parasites of the house of Stuart, but from the principles, the history, and the lives of those illustrious patriots and their disciples, who brought the Star Chamber to ruin, and its abettors to the block.
But I cannot consider the able Attorney-General of Maryland quite sincere in the doctrine which he has advanced. He shines indeed a luminary in this defence. Mr. President, there is an obliquity in human nature that too often disposes us rather to applaud the brilliant, though pernicious ingenuity that can “make the worse appear the better reason,” than the humble but useful efforts of a mind engaged in an honest search after truth. There is something fascinating in such a display of thepowers of the human mind. The vanity of the whole species soothes itself with the excellence of an individual. We yield to the illusions of self-love—“welay the flattering unction to our souls”—and are cheated and abused. It is under this perverse bias of our nature that I render to the honorable Attorney-General of Maryland the willing tribute of my admiration. But, he will pardon me, I cannot suppose him serious. I will not do him the injustice to believe that to a noble motive, to long habits of political and social intercourse, a friendship of thirty years’ standing, he has refused what he himself tells you is done, every day, nay in nine hundred and ninety-nine cases in a thousand, by persons of his profession, for a mercenary consideration. What has he said? “That, in defence of their clients, lawyers are in the daily habit of laying down as law what they know not to be law.” Mr. President, when I see a man of his unrivalled resources reduced to the miserable shift of Star Chamber doctrines and precedents before the revolution—and, conscious, no doubt, of the actual weakness of his defence, calling to his aid all the force of wit, ingenuity, repartee, pleasantry, and good humor, what inference must I draw? and what must be the conclusion of this honorable Court?
On the subject of Mr. Taylor’s testimony, its rejection is attempted to be defended by a solitary precedent,in a civil case, drawn from a reporter, who, I am informed by gentlemen of the first professional character, is far from being considered as very good authority. I mean McNally. In support of this article I might urge as well the admissions of the honorable Attorney-General of Maryland, as the universal practice of our courts. What said Mr. Robertson—and what said the Chief Justice of the United States, on whose evidence I specially rely? He never knew such a case occur before. He never heard a similar objection advanced by any court, until that instance. And this is the cautious and guarded language of a man placed in the delicate situation of being compelled to give testimony against a brother judge. What more could you expect from a person thus circumstanced? What does it prove but that the respondent was the first man to raise, to invent such an objection to a witness? Can any one doubt Mr. Marshall’s thorough acquaintance with our laws? Can it be pretended that any man is better versed in their theory or practice? And yet in all his extensive reading, in his long and extensive practice, in the many trials of which he has been spectator, and the yet greater number at which he has assisted, he had never witnessed such a case. It was reserved for the respondent to exhibit, for the first, and I trust, for the last time, this fatal novelty, this new and horrible doctrine that threatens at one blow all that is valuable in our criminal jurisprudence.
Against the fourth article the Attorney-General of Maryland hath adduced a similar and doubtful authority, in defence of his client. And here again I bottom myself upon the testimony of the same great man, yet more illustrious for his abilities than for the high station that he fills, eminent as it is. He declares that he has never known a similar requisition made by any court; that where the propriety of questions verbally propounded, has been denied, or for the sake of precision, (where they were intricate,) they have been reduced to writing, at the request or order of the Court; but in the first instance, and before they had been stated verbally,never, within the compass of his experience. And what inference can any candid, unprejudiced mind draw from these repeated, and, until then, unprecedented acts of interference by the judge, on behalf of the prosecution, but that, instead of an umpire, he was a partisan?
With regard to his deportment toward the counsel, I shall call the attention of the Court not to the statement made by themselves—because I question it in the slightest degree? God forbid—I know those able and honorable men too well—but because I would deprive our opponents of their almost sole argument—the personal irritation which they allege those witnesses must have felt. Waiving then any remarks on their testimony, powerful as it is, I again ask you, what said the Chief Justice? And, if I may say so,what did he look? He felt all the delicacy of his situation, and as he could not approve, he declined giving any opinion on the demeanor of his associate. What does Mr. Robertson say? In substance, every thing that has been deposed by other witnesses: “That the judge always spoke in the first person singular.” And here I will remark, that the short hand report which this gentleman made of the trial, and which he has given in evidence, was published, in the first instance, as a defence of Mr. Chase against alleged misrepresentations of his conduct on that occasion. It cannot be considered, therefore, as anunfavorable view of the transaction, at least so far as the respondent is concerned. What says Mr. Gooch? That the judge was very ‘yearnest’ with the counsel; that they were much abashed; that he set them down; that they appeared alternately red and pale; that he exhibited their confusion to the mirth of all the bystanders: and Colonel Taylor tells you, “that the conduct of the judge had the full effect it seemed intended to produce—to abash the counsel for the prisoner, and turn them into ridicule, for that every body laughed but themselves.”
But the ingenious Attorney-General of Maryland, whose fruitful invention is never without resource, has endeavored to persuade you, that this conduct was not merely justifiable, but even meritorious. That the design of the counsel was to irritate and inflame the people; and the respondent, dreading a riot, had no object but to keep the audience in a good humor; and that, by a seasonable exertion of his acknowledgedwit and pleasantry, he completely succeeded in turning their weapons upon themselves, and totally defeated their purpose. This apology reflects credit on the inventive faculty of him who makes it, and yet what is it but an admission of the charge? Look to the evidence. You will see nothing to support the twist which has been attempted to be given to it—no apprehension of disorder and confusion but what grew out of the insufferable tyranny and insolence of the judge. Where was the respondent at this time? In some obscure corner of the Union—some remote district notorious for disaffection, infamous for its spirit of insurrection, far removed from the protection of State or Federal authority? No, sir, he was in the enlightened capital of Virginia, a country never disgraced by rebellion—unless the epithet be applied by some squeamish politician to our glorious revolutionary struggle—a State whose soil has never been stained by insubordination to law. No, sir, he was sitting within a stone’s throw of the residence of the Governor of Virginia, a man of whom I shall say nothing. Let the exalted stations he has more than filled, the high public trusts on which he has seemed rather to confer honor than receive it, his unshaken constancy in the worst of times, the dismay and confusion of his enemies, whose vain aspersions have passed him like the idle wind—let the confidence of a united people speak his eulogium. The respondent was sitting within musket-shot of a cantonment of Federal troops. Why were these troops placed there at that time, and why were they kept there for some time afterwards, belongs not to my present purpose. It is enough to say that they were a part of our famous provisional army—“fruges consumere nati”—to ascertain their readiness to protect, in any outrage on the law or constitution, (then practised, or meditated,) the government that maintained them in dissolute idleness. Governor Monroe was more interested in the respondent’s safety than he himself appears to have been. He trembled lest the indignation of the people should get the better of their good sense, and hurry them into some act of violence, that would cast an odium on the State, and afford matter of triumph to her enemies. That the respondent’s object was to goad her citizens to some outrage, which might justify the humiliation that was preparing for her, there is too much reason to believe, and that he would have succeeded, but for the intervention and influence of that excellent man, and the persuasions of the counsel themselves, whom the Attorney-General of Maryland would represent as endeavoring to excite public commotion, that he may find some shelter for the enormities of his client.
But our doctrine, it is said, goes to prostrate the rights of the accused—where?—at the feet of juries. There may they for ever lie, but never at the foot of a judge. The gentleman from South Carolina (I beg his pardon) deprecates the placing of criminal law solely in the power of juries. He would not have the life of a man depend on their decision of a point of law. But it is the glorious attribute of jury trial, that the question of guilty or not guilty, involving both law and fact,thatlaw as well asthatfact the jury alone is competent to determine. It is the necessary consequence of the general verdict which they are required to find. The very able and learned Attorney-General of Maryland indeed says that this is an incidentalpower, rather than arightof the jury. But, sir, what is that power which no man may question, but a right? For, whether incidental or direct, the exercise of it is final and complete, if in favor of the accused; and the power of the Court to award him a new trial is further protection to the prisoner against abuse. There is no specific power given, in so many words, by the constitution, to Congress, to punish robberies of the mail; but it is incidental to the right of establishing post offices and post roads, and necessary to carry the specified power into effect. This curious distinction between “rightandpower,directandincidental,” is anignis fatuusof the learned gentleman’s composition to bewilder and mislead us from our object, that we may be lost and led astray over a wide moor of absurdities. The right of the jury is not the less, whether immediate, or derivative; as Congress possess the power to pass all laws necessary to carry any delegated power into effect, in like manner juries possess every power necessary to the general verdict which they have a right to give. The violation on the part of the judge of the incidental power, as much subjects him to punishment, as if he had invaded the original right over the fact, to which it is appendant. What would he say to a robber of the mail claiming impunity because the power to make the offence penal was incidental, and not specified in the constitution? But, say gentlemen, we admit thepowerin the jury, we only deny theright: and in this tissue of self-contradictions they declare, that whilst a jury is bound by the exposition of the law, as laid down by the Court, yet they have not the right to determine whether the facts come within the law. Can there be a greater absurdity?
“Whilst the jury have no right to decide the law, they must decide whether the facts come within the law!” If the jury is tied down by the Court’s construction of the law, is it not plain thattheydonotdecide whether the fact is, or is not, embraced by the law? but that whilst they find naked fact, it is theCourtthat decides whether that fact does, or does not, come within the law? Gracious God! is it come to this? Are the great principles for which our forefathers contended, and many of yourselves have bled, now to be frittered away by technical sophistry? Is the same doctrine to be established here in capital offences—in cases of treason—that Lord Mansfield attempted to impose on the people of England as the law of libel, and which they would not endure? Shall principlesof criminal law which they have scouted, even in cases not capital, be established here for the decision of capital offences? that whilst the jury finds the facts, their application to the law shall depend solely on the will of the Court? I deny the gentleman’s law; and assert that, as an American citizen, I would refuse to be bound by it. A man is charged with having committed certain treasonable acts. The constitution has defined treason to consist “in levying war against the United States, or in adhering to their enemies, giving them aid and comfort.” But the Court, assuming to themselves a more than Papal infallibility—the exclusive exposition and construction of the constitution—tell me, as a juror, to surrender into their hands my conscience and my understanding; that, as a levying of war is treason, so is the picking up of a pin a levying of war; that I, an unlearned layman, must not presume to expound the holy scripture of the constitution, but must leave that to the elect; and, if the fact of his having picked up the pin be proved to my satisfaction, I am bound to find the prisoner guilty of levying war against his country—to convict him of treason. Sir, the parallel runs on all-fours; for there is nothing to uphold this monstrous judicial assumption, but that which supported the pretensions of the Roman Pontiff—the willing obedience of ignorant superstition. If the jury is contumacious, if, whilst they confess their entire conviction of the truth of the fact charged in the indictment, they deny the legal doctrine and acquit the prisoner, the Court is without redress. They may bully and look big—there is no help. Put the case of murder. A killing with malice aforethought is charged upon the prisoner—there is no dispute about facts—it is admitted that the party arraigned did kill the deceased. Shall I, a juror, contenting myself with deciding a fact that nobody disputes, surrender to the Court the question of law, should they attempt to usurp it, (as that killing with a particular weapon is a killing with malice prepense,) and find a man guilty of murder whom I believe to have acted in self-defence?—in defence of life, or, what is dearer than life, of reputation? No, sir; I will not find him guilty, although all the courts in the universe should instruct me to do so. I will look to the great precept, “do as you would be done by,” and say, “I would have done so too, and, therefore, I will not say, that man ought not so to have done.” And what is there, sir, in the words, “levying of war” more unintelligible than in the words, “malice prepense?” The first, being altogether a matter of fact, would appear more exclusively the province of the jury than the last, which rather partakes of a question of opinion. If you leave the law in criminal cases to the jury, (as well as the fact,) you are safe; but if your decision should sanction the opposite doctrine, you set all our liberties, fixed by the decisions of ages, afloat on an ocean of uncertainty and contention. We have no beacon, no compass, no polar star to direct our course. If you suffer the rights of a jury to be thus invaded on a criminal trial—on a trial for life and death—you bind us in conclusions more fatal than those of the Church of Rome. You force us one moment to say whether such a fact amounts to such a crime, and, the next, you will not permit us to know what the crime is. I hope the marshal will never summon me on such a jury. I give him warning; I will never surrender the constitution, my understanding, and my oath to the “grim gribber” of a court of law. I should consider myself as much entitled to decide the law for the judge in a civil case, as bound by his decision of it in a criminal one. Vain and futile is the attempt of the constitution to settle and define treason, if that definition is to mean any thing or nothing at the option of a corrupt judge. If this doctrine, sir, be denied by any member of this honorable Court, let him, in his legislative capacity, move for a bill “to render juries more obedient to the judges, andespecially in criminal cases.” Until that is done, I shall refuse obedience to their dictates, and act as a juror upon the principles which I have avowed.
Mr. President, much as I regret the trespass that I have already committed on your patience, I must (painful as it may be to you, and it is not less so to myself) attempt something like a review of the conduct of this judge. In May, 1800, you find him in Philadelphia, engaged in propagating and establishing the detestable doctrine of constructive and implied treason, which, in England, has proved the dreadful engine of persecution and murder. From thence you trace him to Annapolis; (not by the blood of John Fries—no thanks, however, to him for that;) you hear his declaration in presence of Mr. Mason. But this, his counsel tell you, was all a joke, nothing but humor, sir; like his conduct at Richmond. If you listen to them, you must become a Pythagorean, and believe that the soul of Yorick himself has transmigrated into the body of this judge. It is true he could not be the king’s jester, because,unfortunately, we have no king, we have not yet reached that stage of civilization; but, sir, he is the jester of the sovereign people, a jester at your laws and constitution, and it is for you to say whether he shall continue to exercise his function. This jocular conversation is likely to prove a bitter and biting jest to the respondent. So serious did that most intelligent and respectable witness deem it to be, that he locked it up in his own bosom, without venturing to mention it to any human being. He did not consider himself authorized to play with the fame of the respondent, however disposedhemight be to sport with the feelings and rights of others. This merry fit lasted a long time. He indulges the same humor in the stage with Mr. Triplett, an entire stranger; and here let me observe, in justice to this gentleman, that never did any man deliver a more clear and unimpeachable testimony in a court of justice than this witness. It is conclusive.When the judge made personal declarations against Callender, could he be said to administer justice without respect to persons? But, sir, one of our adversaries (Mr. Harper) protests against this sort of evidence, and deems it highly inadmissible. Why? Because, forsooth, it violates the sanctity of private conversation, and wounds the feelings of gentlemen who may be called on as witnesses. Thank God! sir, we live in a country where the law is open to all, and knows no distinction betweengentlemenandsimple-men. No man, I trust, has a greater respect for the real gentleman than myself. When Francis I., the accomplished monarch of the most gallant people of Europe, deemed it his first distinction to be ranked as the first gentleman of his kingdom, he did not hold that sacred character in higher reverence than I do. But the respondent himself has told you that a court of justice is a coarse sort of thing, blind to these nice discriminations; that the polished address of a Chesterfield, and the rugged scowl of a Thurlow, in the eye of the law are equal. Suppose a person killed, will not the Court hear evidence of a previous declaration by the prisoner, of ill-will to the deceased, as “that he would be the death of him,” &c.? or, will they stop to ask whether it was uttered in a tippling-house, or a drawing-room; by a ruffian in rags, or in ermine? and yet we are accused of lying in wait for the respondent, of watching his unguarded and convivial hours, of wounding the nerve of social intercourse to the quick. We are ministers of justice, and as such, we know nothing of these delicate distresses, equally unknown to our forefathers, to the framers of our free and manly institutions. Their composition was of sterner stuff than this modern, flimsy, fashionable ware. To their robust constitutions and strong common-sense, these qualmish megrims, these sickly sensibilities of modern refinement were happily unknown.
Follow the respondent, then, with the steady and untired step of justice, from Philadelphia to Annapolis, from Annapolis to Richmond, and back again to Newcastle. You see a succession of crimes each treading on the heel, galling the kibe of the other—so connected in time, and place, and circumstance, and so illustrated by his own confessions, as to leave no shadow of doubt as to his guilt. You are to take the facts, not, as his counsel would have you, isolated and dismembered, but embodied; a series of acts indissolubly linked together, each supporting, each animated by the vital principle of guilt that pervades and gives life to the whole. God hath joined them; no man shall or can put them asunder. Carry your mind back to the state of things in 1800; then advert to the testimony in the case of Fries. Lewis, Dallas, Tilghman, andeven Rawle, declaring that they had never witnessed such a proceeding before; pronouncing the conduct of the judge, on that occasion, to be altogether novel in the annals of our criminal jurisprudence. The same spirit pervades his whole career. But you are warned by the counsel (Mr. Harper) not to tarnish the laurels of your political victory by an unmanly triumph over a fallen adversary. He implores the tribute of a sigh for the mournful yew and funeral cypress that bedecks the hearse of his political reputation. Dreading the decision of your judgment, your sympathies are enlisted for his client. An aged patriot, whose head is whitened with the hoar of threescore and ten years, is presented to your afflicted imaginations: broken with disease, compelled to employ his few and short intervals from pain and sickness, to spend the last moments of a life devoted to a thankless country’s service, in defending himself against a criminal prosecution. Do we thirst for his blood? yet, even there, English authorities would bear us out. Do we seek to lead him to Tower Hill? If his heart will fly in his face, is it we who cast it there? Do we even ask his disfranchisement? No, sir, we only demand the removal of a man, whom the very suspicion of such crimes unfits for the high station which he fills. A man bent with age and infirmity, struggling with misfortune, is a venerable object, entitled to your sympathy, even although he were not a patriot. Mine shall never be denied to such a character. But, sir, mark the difference between Samuel Chase, powerful and protected, and John Fries, feeble and oppressed. Look at the one lodged in a sumptuous hotel, partaking of the best cheer, surrounded and supported by every comfort of life, by a large and respectable circle of friends, indulged with ample time for his defence, assisted by counsel second to none in the land, unrestricted in the conduct of their cause. When I give a man so situated my sympathy, it is not of so jejune a cast as to refuse itself to the victim of his injustice—a hardy yeoman wrestling with indigence and persecution—selling his last bit of property to support a long imprisonment and meet the expenses of this very prosecution; a soldier of the Revolution, with whom the words “stamp act” and “window tax” were synonymous with slavery; who, in a moment of political delirium, perhaps of intoxication, had instinctively raised his hand against what he deemed an oppressive tax—immured in a dungeon, listening only to the clanking of fetters; snatched from the bosom of his family, to whom no doubt he was a kind parent and an affectionate husband—for be it remembered he was popular and beloved among his neighbors—this man, caught in the trap of judicial and constructive treason, at which common sense revolts, laid by the heels, trembling at the charge, ignorant of the extent of the law, without a friend to comfort and console him, no counsel in his defence; such a man, so situated, is as much entitled to my sympathy as any king that ever wore a crown, and he shall have it; he shall have more, he shall have justice from this honorable Court. Yes, sir, to my shame I confess, that my sympathyis not of this exclusive sort. It is not scared by the homely garb of poverty and wretchedness. It can feel for misfortune, even if it be not sumptuously arrayed.
We are asked to assign any rational motive for the conduct imputed to the respondent. His object might have been to court the Administration which he upheld and supported, to recommend himself to the President of the United States, to obtain the Chief Justiceship. Those who are anxious to attract the notice and favor of the powers that be, are not apt to put their light under a bushel. The fulsomeness of sycophants, who always overact their part, is proverbial. Sir, he might be aspiring to the Presidency itself, and anxious to engage the favor of the leaders of his party. Let it be remembered, the triumph of that day was complete, and the reckoning of this day too remote from probability to be taken into the account. Here, sir, you have a key to his whole conduct. It becomes you, then, Mr. President and gentlemen of the Senate, to determine whether a man whose whole judicial life hath been marked by habitual outrage upon decorum and duty, too inveterate to give the least hope of reformation, interwoven and incorporated with his very nature, shall be arrested in his career, or again let loose upon society, to prey upon the property, liberty, and life of those who will not rally around his political standard. We have performed our duty; we have bound the criminal and dragged him to your altar. The nation expects from you that award which the evidence and the law requires. It remains for you to say whether he shall again become the scourge of an exasperated people, or whether he shall stand as a landmark and a beacon to the present generation, and a warning to the future, that no talents, however great, no age, however venerable, no character, however sacred, no connections, however influential, shall save that man from the justice of his country, who prostitutes the best gifts of nature and of God, and the power with which he is invested for the general good, to the low purposes of an electioneering partisan. We adjure you, on behalf of the House of Representatives and of all the people of the United States, to exorcise from our courts the baleful spirit of party, to give an awful memento to our judges. In the name of the nation, I demand at your hands the award of justice and of law.