When Russia shall have more completely filled up the measure of her civilization, and general intelligence shall have secured the liberty of the subject, and laid forever the ghost of political absolutism, it may become the mission of the younger nation to infuse new life into the political system of Europe. With such a nation on the East, and a great continental policy well advanced in the Western World, Middle and Western Europe could hardly maintain its present divided, discordant, and consequently feeble condition: there must be union then, if not before. With Europe thus united, having outgrown the diplomatic intrigues and exhausting wars of jealous and ambitious rulers, the dream of 'universal peace' may realize the inauguration of its fulfilment, and civilization come to have a meaning which, as yet, is folded up in the bosom of prophecy—the clearer prophecy, we believe, of science and history. We are confident that the prestige of the past and the earnest of the future are for us and our cause; that our nation will not be torn to pieces and sunk to the dead level of political imbecility, but will victoriously avouch the integrity of American unity, and gradually gain the advance in the grand march of civilization, and lead the nations for hundreds of years to come!
We may well be proud that we are Americans, and that our lot is cast in these times. Let us never abase our position by the least approach to ignoble compromise; let us shrink from no responsibility; but acquit ourselves as becomes an intelligent people conscious of a noble destiny!
The Rose had bloomed in Eden. Odors newEntranced the groves; and iridescent birds,At this new birth of beauty, sudden roseIn richest chorus, bearing up the balmUpon their beating wings. The bee had learnedThe place of golden sweets, the butterflyLoved well to dream within those crimson folds,And Eve had made a garland delicate,Of feathery sprays and leaves and drooping bells,And placed the Rose, the queen of bloom, aboveThe centre of her brow. Thus she bound upThe golden ripples that fell down and brokeO'er her white breast, hiding the bosom buds,That never yet had yielded up their sweetsTo the warm pressure of an infant's lip.And Eve had bent above the glassy lake,Smiling upon her picture, pressing closeThe soft cheek of the Rose upon her own,And praising God for beauty and for life.But now a morn had come more strangely dearThan Eden yet had known. The sleeping windWoke not to stir the fringes of the lake,Nor shook the odors from the scented plant.A silver, misty wreath closed fondly downAbove the waveless tide. The insect worldLay waiting in the leaves, as though a spellHad hushed Creation; yet expectant thrillsRan through the silence, for the loaded airGrew lighter, purer, and the recent RoseDrooped her proud head in meekness, and the faceOf heaven flushed with burning brilliancy,Above some coming wonder.One by oneThe beasts and birds of Paradise came down,With noiseless movement, to the water's edge,And waited on the margin. Creatures huge,With honest, liquid eyes, and those that steppedWith cushioned feet and feathered footfall, stoleAbout the brink, with all the tribe that gaveThe forest life. The serpent reared its crest,Not yet polluted with the valley's dust,And stood like one with royal gems encrowned;While beast, and bird, and serpent turned to gazeUpon each other with inquiring eyes,And half-bewildered glance.Then last of allCame Eve with Adam to the circling rim,Her fingers grasping roses, and her lipAll beautiful with Love's own witchery.She stood and noted with admiring lookThe strength of Adam's form, the expansive chest,The sloping muscle, and the sinew knit,The firm athletic limb, and every graceCombined and joined in that first, perfect man.Then Eve, grown humble in her wondrous loveOf Adam's beauty, knelt upon the turf,While her long hair fell down in shining waves,And pressed her lip upon his dew-washed feet:Then with her agitated fingers brokeThe foxglove pitcher from the stem, and stoopedTo fill it up for him; but quickly drewHer pearl-white hand away from the still lake,And held it o'er her heart, with such a lookOf awe and mystery, as if a spellWas on the water, that she dared not break.So all was hushed and waiting; when, behold!A flash of gold shot from the silver East,A gush of new perfume spread through the grove,The Rose drooped lower, and the impatient birds,Loosed from restraint, sang in a strain refinedOf dulcet clearness, such as those young bowersHad never heard before. The beast crouched downUpon the velvet turf, the serpent's crownFlashed richer splendor, and the angel-guardWhose fearful sword gleamed by the Tree of Life,His very plumes were tremulous with joy.Then Eve looked o'er the swelling wave, and, lo!The lake was overspread with blooming stars,Or snowy golden-centred cups, that rockedAnd spilled the choicest incense. Adam cried,'The Lily;' but the sweet voice at his side,Grown tremulous and faint with overjoy,Could only whisper, 'Purity.' Then quick,With restless hands, she culled the floral star—Queen of the wave—emblem of innocence,And hung it in the lion's matted mane,And twined it round the serpent's glittering neck;Thus humoring her fancy in the playTill half the morning hours had slipped and gone.Then, startled by the voice she loved so well,She left the sport, the creatures, and the flowers,And hastened back with Adam to the treesWhere God was walking in the solemn shade.O mother frail, thou hast not known a tear!Thy spirit, clothed in simple innocence,Wears the true garb of bliss. Not yet thy hourOf sorrow and departure; nor the pangsAnd mystery of motherhood are thine!And yet, weak one! some day, because of thee,God's love shall give a Saviour to the world!
'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Every onelivesit—to not many is itknown; and seize it where you will, it is interesting.'—Goethe.
'Do but grasp into the thick of human life! Every onelivesit—to not many is itknown; and seize it where you will, it is interesting.'—Goethe.
'Successful.—Terminating in accomplishing what is wished or intended.'—Webster'sDictionary.
'Successful.—Terminating in accomplishing what is wished or intended.'—Webster'sDictionary.
'I have been young and now I am old, and I bear my testimony that I have never found thorough, pervading, enduring morality with any but such as feared God—not in the modern sense, but in the old child-like way. And only with such, too, have I found a rejoicing in life—a hearty, victorious cheerfulness, of so distinguished a kind that no other is to be compared with it.'—Jacobi.
'I have been young and now I am old, and I bear my testimony that I have never found thorough, pervading, enduring morality with any but such as feared God—not in the modern sense, but in the old child-like way. And only with such, too, have I found a rejoicing in life—a hearty, victorious cheerfulness, of so distinguished a kind that no other is to be compared with it.'—Jacobi.
The first part of this narrative naturally closes with the termination of our hero's career at Burnsville, and his establishing himself as a resident of New York.
Up to this period, he has had no great difficulty in making his conduct consistent with his religious professions. He certainly has striven with a species of conscientiousness to do so, and we repeat, he has achieved his object.
Now, however, he is embarking on a very different sea from the quiet, placid waters of his village life. Here, Hiram Meeker, you will encounter many and frequent temptations todowrong. For you are soon to commence on your "own account," and then you must prepare for that mortal struggle, in which none, without the grace of God to aid them, can come off victors.
Hiram understands this: that is, he has been educated to believe it. Surely he enjoys saving grace. Who more constant at church and evening meetings; who prays longer and more vigorously than he?
Let me repeat that Hiram has a strong desire to enter the kingdom of Heaven, and thinks that all the chances are in favor of his doing so. But this desire is of the same nature as his wish to become rich. It is founded on the determination to promote the fortunes of the individualme, here and hereafter. It leads him to treat as aprinciplethe statement offact, that "honesty is the best policy;" and his policy is—Self. He can practically master the theory of cause and effect as to what is going onhere. And since he believes he will secure a good position in the world to come by strict observance of the "ordinances," he considers himself all rightthere.
It is with entire complacency, then, that Hiram Meeker sets sail in New York. He is young, and, as the word goes, handsome; with good health, strong nerves, an enduring frame, and excellent constitution. He is well educated, and has a remarkable capacity for affairs, with sufficient experience in business to qualify him for any mercantile career he chooses to enter on. Moreover, in all the relations of life, he professes to be governed by the highest possible principle—Christian principle; and claims to be, indeed really is, at least theoretically, a believer in the truths of our holy religion. Why is it, then, reader, you have already taken such a prejudice against Hiram? For I know, as it were instinctively, that you are prejudiced against him. Indeed, I confess that in preparing his history for the press, I have unconsciously permitted certain comments to creep in, indicating my own feelings toward the young man. But, in fact, I could not help it, especially when I came to narrate Hiram's course toward Sarah Burns.
But here in New York, I begin to feel a painful interest for young Meeker. He is at the "parting of the ways." Up to now, there has been no great strain on his moral sense, while he has not been altogether insensible to humanizing influences. He has been thus far in the service of others, and had wisdom enough to understand it was best for him to serve with fidelity. Thus, his sense of duty did not conflict with his interests, and he won golden opinions from all.
Probably, when he left Burnsville, but one person thoroughly knew him—that person was Sarah Burns. For it is given to those whose hearts are honestlydevoted, in time to learn and fully comprehend the nature of the hearts brought in contact with theirs.
The young ladies universally recalled their delightful flirtations with Hiram with a sort of pleasurable regret, in which no angry feelings toward him were mingled. Even Mary Jessup looked back with a sentimental sigh, but not with any feeling of bitterness, to the period when she was so happy with "young Meeker, boarding at their house." The Hawkins girls still severally had their secret hopes in the future. [As to the widow Hawkins, I cannot say.] But nobody understood the young man except Sarah Burns.Heknew that, and when he drove away from her door, he felt he wasfound out.
I am getting from my subject, which is Hiram's dangerous situation, now that he has reached New York. One thing much to be regretted is that he has resolved, at least for the present, to adjure society, in his entire devotion to his main purpose. This is an alarming feature. For notwithstanding, in his intercourse with the sex, he had sought entirely his own pleasure, still it was not without its qualifying influences. His mind was diverted from a perpetual thought of how he should get rich, and nature (I mean the nature common to us all) was permitted to have a certain sway.
When Hiram stepped foot in the metropolis, he cut off these diverting elements. He decided, and he had long and carefully considered it, that in the strife in which he was soon to enter, he should require all his time, all his faculties. For this reason, he determined to accept Mr. Eastman's offer of board and lodging at his house, albeit his wife was shrewish and generally disagreeable. He no longer permitted the gay throng in Broadway to move his nerves or excite his senses. And thus all these secondary impulses and emotions and sentiments yielded to the one main controlling purpose.
Yes, Hiram Meeker, I feel a painful interest in your situation. I see that, once entered on your career, there will be no departure or deviation or pause in it. As in metal poured into the mould, which, while it remains in a fluid state, is capable of being converted into other forms, but which, after a time, fixes and becomes unchangeable,—so, in the life of every human being, there is a period when the aims and purposes are fixed and the character is settled forever. With some, this comes earlier, with others later; but it comes inevitably to all of us.
It seems to me Hiram is fast approaching this epoch, and this is why my interest in him becomes painful. For after this—but I will not anticipate.
The first thing which Hiram undertook after getting settled at his boarding place, was to decide what church to attend. This was a matter which required a great deal of deliberation, and week after week he visited different churches of his own faith.
Mr. Bennett, with his family, went to an Episcopal church. He took the liberty, one day, of flatly advising his cousin to cut Presbyterianism, and go with him.
'The fact is, Hiram, I can't stand the blue lights; they make a hypocrite of you, or a sniveller. Now, I don't profess to be a good person, but I think, after all, my neighbors know about where to find me. As to the Episcopalians, they give us good music, good prayers, and short sermons. They don't come snooping about to find out whether you go sometimes to the theatre, or if any of your family practise the damnable sin of dancing at parties. They mind their own business, and leave you to mind yours.'
'Whatistheir business?' asked Hiram.
Mr. Bennett, taken a little aback, hesitated a moment; then he replied, 'Why, to preach and read the service, and perform church duties generally.'
'Well,' said Hiram, 'I always thought it was a part of a minister's duty to look after the spiritual welfare of every one of his church, and to visit the families, and converse with all the members.'
'You forget you're not in the country, where everything is got up on an entirely different basis,' replied Mr. Bennett. 'You won't find much 'pastoral' work here, even among the blue lights. They confine themselves to preaching brimstone sermons from the pulpit and at evening lectures, and giving orders about the management of your family and mine, taking care that nobody shall enjoy anything if they can help it. If you go to see a play, it is a plunge into Tophet; if you permit your child to tread a quickstep to a lively tune, both you and your child are fit subjects for the wrath to come.'
'I rather think you are mistaken when you say the Episcopalians approve of the theatre and late parties, and so forth,' retorted Hiram. 'I have been told by two or three of that persuasion, that the clergy object decidedly to all these things.'
'Gammon, Hiram—gammon for the country market. I tell you, I know that we can do just what we please in the way of 'rational amusement,' as our clergyman calls it, and your people can't, and I advise you to come over to the liberal side.'
Hiram shook his head.
'Well, if you won't, I recommend Dr. Pratt. He, I understand, permits a little fun occasionally; then he makes use of our prayers, commits them to memory, you know; and latterly has put on a gown, and has a little boy to open the door of his pulpit. I advise you to go there.'
'Thank you,' said Hiram; 'but I don't think I should relish that kind of a man. I prefer something decided one way or the other.'
'Then take Dr. Chellis, he's your chap. Boanerges! a regular son of thunder. Egad, I believe hedoesvisit every soul of his flock—keeps them straight. The other evening he was invited to a little gathering at the house of a new comer in his congregation—he always accepts invitations, and they say he is very fond of oysters and chicken salad, though he drinks nothing but cold water;—well, it happened the young folks wanted to get up a quadrille,began to arrange it innocently enough before his face and eyes. Thereupon he jumped up in a huff, and flung himself out of the house, and the next Sunday delivered an extra blast on the 'immoral tendencies of the dance.'
'That's the man for me,' said Hiram, firmly.
Mr. Bennett regarded his protegé with a keen, inquisitive glance, with a view to fathom him, if possible. It would seem that the result was unsatisfactory, for after a moment he exclaimed, 'Well, I confess I don't exactly see through you. It may be one sort of thing; it may be another; but I can't say which.'
'It is a very simple matter, Mr. Bennett. I was brought up strictly, and believe in my bringing up.'
'All right, if you mean it.'
'I do mean it. Besides, now that I have come to New York to reside, where I shall be subjected to the numerous temptations of a city life, I shall need more than ever to be under the preaching of just such a man as you describe Dr. Chellis to be.'
'Oh, don't; that is coming it too strong; now I think Idounderstand you. But, Hiram, drop all that sort of thing. If you want to join Chellis's church, join it; but talk your cant to the marines.'
Hiram was angry, but he said nothing.
'You must not be vexed, Hiram. You know I want to do you all the good I can. Recollect, if you are smart, you have much to learn yet. Let me have your confidence, and I will advise you according to my experience. If you really like severe preaching, you can't do better than go in for the Doctor. He has the richest congregation in New York. Allwise, Tenant & Co., Starbuck & Briggs, Daniel Story. Those are names for you; South-street men, too, in your line. They are the pillars of Chellis's church; good men and true, if they are blue lights. Besides, there are lots of pretty girls—tight little Presbyterian saints, with plenty of cash. Their fathers can buy and sell Dr. Pratt's congregation and mine together. Yes, you are right; I wonder I did not think of it. Go in for Chellis.'
Hiram was still silent. His heightened color and severe expression showed how little he relished Mr. Bennett's conversation.
Nothing is so disagreeable to a person whose nature is not thoroughly genuine, but who claims to act from proper motives, as to have another take it for granted he is not doing so.
He did not forget a word that Mr. Bennett had said, though. Indeed, he recovered his equanimity so far as to thank him for his suggestions, and, wishing him good-day, he started for his place in South street.
Mr. Bennett watched the young man as he walked up the street (the conversation occurred in the doorway of H. Bennett & Co.'s establishment), and until he had turned the corner. 'Deep, very deep,' he muttered as he stepped inside. 'He'll be 'round one of these days, or I am mistaken.'
Meanwhile Hiram continued on his way to the store, his cheeks burning under the influence of Mr. Bennett's plain talk, but sensibly alive to the description of Dr. Chellis's church.
'Allwise, Tenant & Co., eh? and Starbuck & Briggs (Hiram had been but a few weeks in New York, and already had learned to pay that almost idolatrous deference to great commercial names which is a leading characteristic of the town); that will do. Plenty of rich girls,'—his heart began to beat quick,—'plenty of rich girls. That's the place for me.'
Strange, in this soliloquy he said nothing about the spiritual advantages to be derived under the preaching of so noted a divine as Dr. Chellis. Yet Hiram really liked strong preaching and severe discipline. For he never appropriated any of the denunciations. Feeling perfectly safe himself, it gratifiedhim to hear the awful truths severely enforced on the outsiders.
We see, however, from this little conversation with himself, what was uppermost in Hiram's mind. Subsequent inquiries, carefully made of various persons, fully confirmed the statement of Mr. Bennett as to these little particulars in relation to Dr. Chellis's church and congregation.
Dr. Chellis himself was a person of extraordinary ability, great purity of character, and great zeal. At this period he was about sixty years of age, but he possessed the earnestness and energy of a young man. His congregation were very much attached to him, and it is true he exercised over them a remarkable influence. Many people sneered, accusing them of 'being led by the nose by their minister.' They were led, it is true, but not in that way: rather by their understanding and their affections. For, strict and stern and severe as the 'old Doctor' appeared to be, it was thesinhe thundered against, not the individual. And those who were brought in more intimate contact with him, declared that he was, after all, a kind, tender-hearted man.
His church were devoted to him. The majority were a severe, toilsome, self-denying company—too much so, perchance; but of that I dare hazard no opinion: God knows. Like their minister, sincere, indulging in no cant; without hypocrisy, practising in the world during the week the principles they professed on Sunday to be governed by; a church deserving to be honored for its various charities (it gave twice as much as any other in the city), for the personal liberality of its members when called on to join in public or private subscriptions, and for the exalted influence they exerted in affairs generally.
Into such a church, and among such a people, Hiram Meeker proposes to introduce himself.
His first move was to call on Dr. Chellis without any introduction, and present his credentials from the church in Burnsville, as well as an excellent letter from his minister, certifying particularly as to his religious character and deportment. He thought by going as an unsophisticated youth from the country he would make a better impression and more strongly commend himself to the Doctor's sympathy than in any other way.
I think, however, that Hiram's call was rather of a failure. He had no ordinary man to deal with. Dr. Chellis had not only a profound knowledge of human nature, but a quick insight into its various peculiarities. He could classify individuals rapidly; and he read Hiram after fifteen minutes' conversation.
The latter, not accustomed to men of the Doctor's calibre, found himself wanting in his usual equanimity. His familiar rôle did not serve, he could see that, and for once his resources failed him.
For the Doctor did not appear to be specially interested when Hiram, apropos of nothing, except as a last card, undertook, in a meek, saint-like manner, to give him an account of his early conviction of sin and subsequent triumphant conversion. Indeed, if the truth must be told, the worthy divine gave evident symptoms—to speak plainly—of being bored before Hiram's story was half finished! The latter was not slow to see this, and he found it difficult to rally.
At length he gave the Doctor an opportunity to speak, by bringing his personal narrative to a close.
'You have no acquaintances in the city?'
'I think I may say none, except in business; and my object in selecting such a church as yours is to keep up the same degree of piety which I humbly trust I maintained in my village home.'
[Pretty well, Hiram, pretty well—butyou have an old head to deal with, and an honest heart: be careful.]
'To do that,' replied the Doctor, gravely, 'you must not look back to what you were, or thought you were. Be sure you are in danger when you feel complacent about yourself.'
These were awful words to Hiram, and from such a severe, grave, dignified old man.
'In danger!' That was something new. 'Of what?' Why, no thought of a possibility of danger had crossed young Meeker's mind since the day he joined the church in Hampton.
He sat quite still, uncertain what reply to make.
He was interrupted by the tones of the Doctor's voice—tones which were modified from their previous severity.
'I will take your letter,' he said, 'and at the next communion, which will take place in about six weeks, you will be admitted to membership.'
'I should like to have a class in the Sunday school,' said Hiram, breathing more freely.
'If you will speak next Sunday to Mr. Harris, the superintendent,' replied the Doctor, 'he will furnish you with one. There is a demand for teachers just at present, I heard him say.'
Dr. Chellis rose, as if Hiram had taken up enough of his time. Our hero could but do the same. He bowed and left the room.
'A pretty sort of minister that,' exclaimed he between his teeth, as he quitted the house. 'Pious! no more pious than my boot. Never listened to a word I said. I know he didn't. Is it possible I must sit under this man's preaching? I see now what cousin Bennett meant by things being got up on an entirely different basis here from what they are in the country. I should think they were. But there is Allwise, Tenant & Co., Daniel Story. I may trust myself with such names [he did not say with suchmen]. Ah! h'm—h'm—lots of pretty girls, with plenty of cash. I'll try it. Anyhow, it stands number one. No mistake about that!
Hiram soon learned a lesson. He discovered there were people in New York just as quickwitted, as keen, and as shrewd as he was himself. This did not alarm him. Not a bit. He was only the more ready to appreciate the truth of Mr. Bennett's remark, that he had yet much to learn.
'I see it,' quoth Hiram. 'The city gets the best of everything, by the natural course of supply and demand. Yes, it gets the best beef and mutton and fowls, and fruits and vegetables, and on the same principle it commands the best men. Well, I like this all the better. It was dull business in Burnsville, after all, with nobody to compete with. Give me New York!'
In the store of Hendly, Layton & Gibb, Hiram saw and conversed with shipmasters who were familiar with every port in the world. The reader will recollect, at school he had devoted himself to mercantile geography. Thus he had located in his mind every principal seaport, and had learned what was the nature of the trade with each. The old sea captains were amazed at the pertinence of Hiram's questions, and with the information he possessed on topics connected with their business. They could scarcely understand it. It gave them a great respect for the 'fellow,' and Hiram speedily became a favorite with them all. He used to like to go on board their ships, and chat with them there, whenever he found time. Do not suppose these were mere pleasure excursions. Hiram Meeker was forming his opinion of each one of these captains. For in his mind's eye he saw some of them inhisemploy; but which? that was the question. So by mingling with them, he learned much of the mechanical part of commerce, and he discovered, besides their different characters, who were competent and honest, and who were not altogether so.
Hiram also spent a good deal of his time conversing with Eastman, with whom he boarded. He got the latter's ideas of business and about the men they daily encountered, and Eastman could furnish a fund of valuable information, based on long experience.
Hiram all this time was indefatigable. He watched the course of trade. He endeavored to discover the secret of the success of the great South street houses. He worked, he pondered, and yet all the time served Hendly, Layton & Gibb with fidelity. Eastman became attached to him. Mrs. Eastman said the man did not give her half the trouble she expected. So you see, in certain quarters, Hiram was as popular as ever.
Meantime he had secured a seat in and joined Dr. Chellis's church. He duly presented himself at the Sunday school and obtained a fine class. From that time he never missed a service on Sunday, nor a lecture, or prayer meeting, or other weekly gathering. He even attended a funeral occasionally, in his zeal to 'wait' on all the ordinances. He was, however, exceedingly modest and unobtrusive. He did not seek to make acquaintances, but no one could help noticing his punctilious regularity and decorum. I have remarked that Hiram determined to cut off what had been a great source of pleasure—society; but he still paid the same attention to his personal appearance as before. After a while questions began to be asked: 'Who is this new comer, so constant, so devout, and so exemplary?'
'What a fine-looking fellow! I wonder who he is?' whispered Miss Tenant to Miss Stanley, one morning, as our hero passed their seats (they both had classes) to take his place with his Sunday school pupils.
'I don't know, I am sure,' replied her friend.
'I can't find any one who does. Do you know,Ithink he is real handsome?'
'So do I, if he would only lift his head up and look people in the face; he is as bashful as a sheep.'
'My little brother is in his class, and he says they all like him so much. He takes such an interest in his pupils.'
'Then I should think you could find out something about him.'
'No: his name is Meeker; that's all any one seems to know.'
'Funny name; I don't like it.'
'Nor I. Still, we won't condemn him for his name. Besides, I like his face?'
'Hush!'
Here the conversation of the two young people was interrupted by the rapping of the superintendent, and the services of the school commenced.
If young ladies of the importance of Miss Tenant and Miss Stanley begin to talk about Hiram, you may be certain it will spread through the school and into the church.Heknew what was going on—of course he did; but only took still greater pains with his personal appearance, and became more shy and reserved and assiduously devout.
The elders of the church could not help noticing him.
The young ladies noticed him.
Heads of families observed his exemplary deportment.
Who could he be?
Dr. Chellis, meantime, did not lose sight of his new communicant. They frequently met, and Hiram was always greeted, if not with cordiality, yet kindly. Strange to say, contrary to his habit, the Doctor neglected or omitted to enter into conversation with Hiram on religious topics. He felt a repugance to doing so which he could not explain. Everything seemed so praiseworthy in Hiram's conduct, that one would suppose the worthy divine would like to engage him in conversation, as the Rev. Mr. Chase used to do at Burnsville. But a certain aversion prevented it.
When applied to for information about Hiram, the Doctor could saynothing, for he knew nothing; and so the mystery, for a mystery the young ladies determined to make of it, increased.
At last a rumor was circulated that Hiram had been disappointed in a love affair. A mischief-loving girl detailed it to Miss Tenant, whose interest in the young Sunday school teacher gradually grew stronger, and it soon became a well-authenticated piece of history.
During this time a species of intimacy was growing up between Hiram Meeker and Hill. An odd companionship, you will say; but they seemed to get along very well together. The latter, as you may remember, was a wild, reckless fellow. He had his good traits, though. There was nothing mean in his composition, but much that was impulsive and generous. He never laid up a penny, and was always in debt. It was this unfortunate habit which had kept him so long at Joslin's. He had got in advance of his salary, and he would not quit till it was made up. When he left there, he succeeded in getting a place in a large wine and liquor house; for Hill's acquaintance was extensive, and in those days of extraordinary 'drumming,' in which he was a great proficient, his services were valuable. It was through Hill, as I have said, that Hiram got his place at Hendly's, and after that he was in the habit of looking in nearly every day on him toward the close of business hours.
I cannot precisely explain by what species of fascination this poor fellow was attracted to Meeker. Doubtless it originated in the triumphant resistance which the latter opposed to Hill's attempt on him at their first acquaintance, and his complete victory over and discomfiture of Benjamin Joslin, for whom Hill entertained a supreme contempt. There was a mystery about the sources of Hiram's power which completed the charm, and made Hill his willing subject, and afterward slave.
But what did Hiram want of Hill? That would appear more difficult to answer. He certainly did want something of him. For he encouraged his coming often to see him, and talked with him a great deal. He even lent him occasionally small sums of money. I repeat, what a droll companionship! Hill, a swearing, drinking, godless scapegrace. Meeker, a quiet, exemplary, religious, laborious young man.
Perhaps it was the rule by which opposites are attracted to each other.
Perhaps it was something else.
On the whole, I am inclined to think it was something else, on Hiram's part at least. I believe he acted, with respect to Hill, as he did with respect to everybody—from carefully considered motives. We shall see, perhaps, by and by, how this was.
Eastman used to wonder that Hiram should tolerate Hill's society. To be sure, he himself had a sort of family regard for him. But his presence always annoyed him. He even expressed his surprise to Hiram, who replied by making use of the moral argument. He was sorry for the poor fellow. He hoped to do him some good. Possibly he might be able to bring him under better influences. Certainly Hill would not harmhim, while, on the contrary, he (Hill) might be benefited.
Hiram did not tell the truth.
Really, if he had dared to stop and inquire of himself, he would be forced to acknowledge that he didnotwant Hill to be different from what he was. Then he would not serve his purpose. To be sure, sometimes, when Hill permitted an extra strong oath to escape his lips, Hiram would fidget and look uneasy, and beg his visitor to break himself of such a wicked habit. But the secret of Hiram's power did not lie in hismoralinfluence certainly, for Hill's habit of swearing did not improve, indeed it grew worse.
In this way passed our hero's first year in New York.
We publish the principal part of the speech of Hon. R. J. Walker, against nullification and secession, made at the great Union meeting at Natchez, Mississippi, on the first Monday of January, 1833. We republish this speech from the NatchezMississippi Journalof that date. Upon that speech, Mr. Walker became the Union candidate for Senator of the United States from Mississippi against Mr. Poindexter, a Calhoun nullifier and secessionist. After a three years' contest of unexampled violence, Mr. Walker was elected on the 8th of January, 1836. So distinct was the issue, that the Legislature of Mississippi declared nullification and secession to be treason. The contest was conducted by Mr. Walker by speeches in every county, with the banner of the Union waving over him, and to the music of our national airs.
We republish this speech now because it preceded Mr. Webster's great reply to Calhoun, and because its arguments are applicable to the present contest. This speech drew out Gen. Jackson's celebrated letter, heretofore published, in favor of Mr. Walker; and the speech received the cordial approval of ex-President Madison. By reference to the Washington cityGlobeof the 12th August, 1836, it will be found that, in conversation with Mr. Ingersoll, 'Mr. Madison spoke very freely of nullification, which he altogether condemned, remarking that Mr. Walker, of the Senate, in a speech he had made on some occasion, was thefirst personwho had given to the public what he (Mr. Madison) considers the true view of Mr. Jefferson's language on that subject.' Mr. Webster gave the Whig arguments against nullification and secession, Mr. Walker the democratic; but they both arrived at the same conclusions:
Never, fellow citizens, did I rise to address you with such deep and abiding impressions of the awful character of that crisis which involves the existence of the American Union. No mortal eye can pierce the veil which covers the events of the next few months, but we do know that the scales are now balancing in fearful equipoise, liberty and union in the one hand, anarchy or despotism in the other. Which shall preponderate, is the startling question to which we must all now answer. Already one bright, one kindred star is sinking from the banner of the American Union, the very fabric of our government is rocking on its foundations, one of its proudest pillars is now moving from beneath the glorious arch, and soon may we all stand amid the broken columns and upon the scattered fragments of the Constitution of our once united and happy country. Whilst then we may yet recede from the brink of that precipice on which we now stand, whilst we are once more convened as citizens of the American Union, and have still a common country, whilst we are yet fondly gazing, perhaps for the last time, upon that banner which floated over the army of Washington, and living beneath that Constitution which bears his sacred name, let us at least endeavor to transmit to posterity, unimpaired, that Union, cemented by the blood of our forefathers. The honorable gentleman who has preceded me, in opposition to the resolutions submitted for your consideration, tells us that he was nursed in the principles of '76 and '98—that these are the principles of Carolina, and that they ought to be maintained. Let me briefly answer, that the humble individual who now addresses you is the son of a soldier of the Revolution, and that from the dawning of manhood, from his first vote to his last, at all times, and upon all occasions, he has supported and will support the principles of democracy, and the doctrines of '76 and '98. But it was under the banner of the Union that the whigs of '76 and '98 achieved their glorious triumphs; and is that the standard now unfurled by the advocates of nullification? It is true, we find nullification declared in the Kentucky resolutions to be a rightful remedy—but nullification by whom? by a single State? no—by those sovereignties the several States, in the mode prescribed by the Constitution, by a declaratory amendment annulling the power under which the law was passed. This would be a remedy in fact; for it would operate equally on all the States; but can the same act of Congress be constitutional in one State, and unconstitutional in another? South Carolina declares the Tariff unconstitutional—Kentucky declares it valid; is it nullified or not? is it void or valid? The South Carolina theory gives to each State, of itself, the unlimited power to pronounce ultimate judgment against the validity of any act of Congress. If so, the Tariff must be valid in Kentucky, and void in South Carolina. Yet if the Carolina ordinance, nullifying the Tariff, be valid in that State, it is valid in every other State, and Carolina may introduce foreign imports, once landed in her own State, into every other State, free of all duty; for, by the Constitution, 'no tax or duty shall be laid on articles exported from any State.' What then becomes of the ultimate judgment of Kentucky? Nullified by a single State; and that is the nullification of South Carolina, by which she can constitutionally, and as a member of the Union, repeal any act of Congress she may deem invalid, and prescribe her will for law throughout the limits of every other State. The Constitution of the Union would then be this:Be it enacted, that the American Congress shall possess such powers only as South Carolina believes they may lawfully exercise; and the whole American people be thus subjected to the government of the ordinances of a single State. Is this democracy? The truth is, every act of Congress is intrinsically void or valid, from its repugnance to or consonance with the provisions of the American Constitution; nor can the judgment of a State render void an act of Congress which is constitutional, or render valid an act of Congress which is unconstitutional. Would the judgment of a single State have rendered the alien and sedition law constitutional, or the last war unconstitutional, or would the Supreme Court of the Union have been compelled to render opposite judgment in a case brought before them, declaring the citizen of Massachusetts bound to oppose, and of Virginia to support either of these laws, as their respective States had pronounced contradictory judgments upon them? Suppose Massachusetts had not only declared the last war unconstitutional, but had passed an ordinance requiring her citizens to resist the war, to prostrate and oppose the armies of the Republic, and to aid a tyrant's myrmidons in driving the steel deeper into the bosoms of our bleeding countrymen; would the ordinance be constitutional, or would not the acts it required to be performed be treason against the Government of the Union?
It is said a State cannot commit treason; no, but its citizens may; nor would they be rightfully acquitted because sustained by the judgment of a single State. If each State possesses an equal right to pass ultimate judgment upon any act of Congress, and two States enact ordinances directly contradictory to the same law, do they not, like the meeting of equal forces in mechanics, nullify each other? or must the same law be enforced in one State and disregarded in the other? Not without violating the Constitution; for if New York pronounces the Tariff valid, and South Carolina declares itvoid, and suits are instituted in each State on bonds given for the payment of duties on imports introduced into each, must the duties be collected in one State, but not in the other? This would be to set at open defiance those clauses of the Constitution which declare that all imposts 'shall be uniform throughout the United States,' and that 'no preference shall exist in the collection of revenue in the ports of one State over those of another.' Upon an appeal from the decisions by the Federal district courts of New York and Carolina, in the suits on the bonds for these duties, how would the Supreme Court of the Union decide the question? by enforcing the payment of the bonds given in Carolina? No; for that State had exercised the right of ultimate judgment, and pronounced the law invalid; would the court decide against the validity of the bond given in New York? No; for that State, in exercising its equal right of pronouncing ultimate judgment, had declared that the law was valid. Or would they enforce the payments of the duties in New York and not in South Carolina? This, we have seen, would violate both the clauses of the Constitution last quoted. The only remaining judgment would be, to disregard the edict of a single State, and to enforce the payment of the duties in both States, or in neither, as the act of Congress might or might not be repugnant to the provisions of the Constitution. If Kentucky and Virginia thought they possessed the power in regard to the alien and sedition laws now claimed by Carolina in regard to the Tariff, where is the ordinance nullifying those laws? Or would they be nullified by resolutions expressing only the judgment and opinion of the Legislature in regard to the constitutionality of the law, as if the Legislature, one department only of the Government of a single State, could annul all the laws of the Union? Even South Carolina does not urge a doctrine so monstrous, for she declares this can be done solely by the 'delegates' of the State in 'solemn convention.' South Carolina finds, then, in the practice of Virginia and Kentucky, no warrant for the doctrine of nullification. She finds neither ordinance, nor test oaths, nor standing armies, nor packed juries, nor secession, or threats of secession, from the Union. They find Mr. Jefferson in that great emergency protesting against 'a scission of the Union,' in any event; and the ordinance of South Carolina would have received his unqualified abhorrence. But, if we are asked to surrender the principles which alone can preserve the Union, on the assumed authority of Mr. Jefferson and Mr. Madison, of Kentucky and of Virginia—why do not the advocates of nullification tell us that Mr. Jefferson, in 1821, as appears by his printed memoirs, emphatically denied the right of a State tovetoan act of Congress; and Mr. Madison, a surviving founder of the Constitution, and framer of the Virginia resolutions, unequivocally denounces the doctrine of nullification? And are they not safer guides than Messrs. McDuffie, Calhoun, and Hamilton, the former of whom wrote and published in 1821, and the latter deliberately sanctioned, in a laudatory preface, a series of essays, denouncing this very doctrine of nullification as the 'climaxof political heresies'? Why do not those who would look to Kentucky and Virginia as the only safe expositors of the Constitution inform us also, that the great and patriotic commonwealth of Kentucky is indignantly repelling the charge that nullification ever was sustained by her authority? Why do they not point to the unanimous resolution of the Virginia Legislature in 1810, declaring in the very case of a nullification, by a law of Pennsylvania, of a power of the General Government, that the Supreme Court of the Union is the tribunal, 'already provided by the Constitution of the United States, to decide disputes between the State and Federal' authorities?' (See 'Sup.Rev. Code of Virginia,' page 150.) These resolutions, directly affirming the supremacy of the judgment of the Supreme Court of the Union over the laws and judgment of a State, were adopted by Virginia within a few months after the promulgation by that tribunal of its decree enforcing the authority of the Union against the nullifying edict of a sovereign State. Virginia did more: she not only affirmed the power of this tribunal, and sanctioned its decree, but spoke of it in terms of the highest eulogy, and scouted indignantly the proposition of Pennsylvania to vest the right of deciding questions of disputed power and sovereignty in some other tribunal than the Supreme Court of the Union. The same proposition was treated with the open or silent contempt of every State in the Union, South Carolina among the number; and Pennsylvania receded, though she had passed a law commanding the Governor of the State to prevent by an armed force the execution of the process emanating under the authority of the Constitution of the Union—though she placed her act upon the same ground as Carolina, that the power exercised in that case had never been granted by the Constitution to any department of the General Government. Thus ended nullification in the keystone of the arch of the Union. That State, which has ever sustained the Democracy of the South, in the election of Jefferson, of Madison, and Monroe, and the cheering voice of whose public meetings first called out as a candidate for the presidency the patriot Chief Magistrate who now upholds the banner of the Union, submitted to the law of the Union. And is nullification constitutional in Carolina, but unconstitutional in Pennsylvania? Is the one asovereignand the other asubjectState? Shall the one submit to the laws of the Union, and not the other? Why, sir, if the people of Pennsylvania could sustain a distinction so odious, the very shades of their ancestors would rise from the battlefields of the Revolution, from Paoli and Germantown, and call their children bondmen of Carolina, vassals and recreant slaves! I speak not now of the whiskey insurrection, when, at the order of Washington, the militia of Virginia and of other States moved against the people of Western Pennsylvania, under the command of the Governor of Virginia and Carolina, and the nation approved the deed; but I speak of the period, during the presidency of Mr. Jefferson, when the State of Pennsylvania passed a law nullifying the powers of the General Government, under her reserved right to construe the Constitution at her pleasure, when she was compelled to yield to the laws of the Union, and her armed force, assembled by her Governor under an edict of the State, was ineffectual. Nullification was condemned by Jefferson and Madison, by Virginia and Carolina, and the people of the Union; and must one State nullify and not another? No, sir; all or none of the States must submit to the supremacy of the Government of the Union; and if Carolina can successfully resist that Government, will any other State submit to a power which is thus insulted, disgraced, defied, and overthrown by the edict of a single State, and which acts and exists only by its permission? No, sir; one successful example of practical nullification by a State destroys the Union; for it demonstrates that the Government of the Union has no power to execute its laws, or preserve its existence—that it is not a government, or that its powers are written in sand, to be swept away by the first angry surge of passion that beats over them. Such was the prediction of the despots of Europe, too soon to be fulfilled if the fatal ordinance of Carolina is sustained, and the flag of the Union struck down by the imperious mandate of a single State. Let us, then, now teach those despots, who, pointing with exultation to our dissensions, and anticipating our downfall,proclaim that man is incapable of self-government, that the Union can and shall be preserved, that we know that 'Union and Liberty are inseparable,' that the name and privileges of American citizens are entwined with the very ligaments of our hearts, that they are our birthright, the glorious inheritance purchased by the blood of our forefathers, and never to be surrendered by their sons; that we will all rally round the banner of our country and sustain it, upon the ocean, on the land, in war and in peace, against foreign or domestic enemies; or, if it must fall, it will be upon the graves of Americans preferring death in its defence to life without it, when the iron chains of despotism would bind them as slaves to that soil which they would tread only as freemen.
It is said that the Government of the Union is but a league formed by sovereign States. Did the States form it as governments? if so, which or all of the departments of any State subscribed or ratified the compact? or could the government of any State change the organic law, unless by a power given them by the Constitution, or surrender the sovereign attributes of power, and unite the people in a new government with other confederates? No; the government cannot abolish or change its form or transfer its powers to another government: this highest act of sovereignty can only be performed by the people of a State; and it was by the people of every State, acting in convention as separate and distinct communities, that the Constitution was ratified and rendered binding upon the people of all the States; and, in the language of Mr. Jefferson, the Government thus formed was 'authorized to act immediately on the people and by its own officers.' Was it then a league only? No, it was what its framers, the people, as we have seen, and not the governments of all the States, called it, a 'Constitution'—a 'Government;' and it is an overthrow of fundamental principles to say that a 'constitution,' a 'government,' which is made 'the supreme law' in all the States, could be created by any power less than the people of the several States, but as the people of the States, and not in their aggregate capacity. Whatever may be the theories of the advocates of consolidation on the one hand, or nullification on the other, this is certainly a true history of the manner in which the Government of the Union was formed. The Constitution itself expressly declares that it could be created only by 'the ratifications of the conventions of the States;' and this Constitution was expressly rendered 'the supreme law of the land,' 'anything in the constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding,'—as if the government of a State could render their own constitution subordinate to another constitution. A return then having taken place, in forming the Constitution, to the people of all the States, as the primary fountain of power, they might have vested all their sovereignty, or but a part of it, in one government; and they might have given, in either event, the same power which exists in ordinary governments of enforcing its laws when sustained as constitutional by all its departments, subject only to the natural rights of the people to revolutionize the government in case of intolerable oppression. Certain important powers and attributes of sovereignty the people of the States gave to this new government. They made this government 'supreme' in the exercise of its powers in all the States. They gave this government the sole power 'to declare war.' Did the State then remain an absolute sovereign in that respect, and with absolute power to judge if the object of the war was constitutional, and annul the declaration? This new government had the sole power to lay andcollect'duties on imports;' did each State remain an absolute sovereignty in this respect, and with absolute powers to judge if the object of the duties wasconstitutional, and annul the law? The General Government was the only sovereign as regards these powers; but a single State, having none of these powers, is made the absolute judge whether they can or cannot be exercised: then no powers have yet been granted to the General Government by any State, if each possesses the right to interdict the exercise of any of these powers. But, could this General Government exist without the authority to give one uniform effect to the execution of its powers in all the States? Created with all the organs of a government, legislative, judicial, and executive, may it enact, but not expound, or enact and expound, but not execute? Must it stop at the boundary of each State, and ask what power it possesses, and act upon the contradictory responses of each State? Must it possess one set of powers in one State, and another and wholly opposite set of powers in another State? May it lay a tariff in one State, and not in another, and yet this tariff required to be uniform in every State? Is it one constitution, and susceptible of one only true construction, or twenty-four constitutions, with twenty-four various and contradictory constructions, and all right, because all pronounced by absolute sovereigns exercising the uncontrolled power of ultimate judgment? Has it any powers, and what are they? Will Mississippi submit this question to Massachusetts or Carolina, or is a government created whose powers cannot be ascertained? Must anarchy govern? Can there be no decision, or is that of a single State, or of a small minority of the States, to sweep away the legislation of a majority, or two thirds of the States? According to the new theory, each State has the constitutional power in the first instance, and one fourth in the last resort, to judge what powers each State may exercise, and the other States must submit. Now, this is impossible, where the legislation of the two States is contradictory; and, if possible, is not a mere negative, but a positive power. It is a government without limitation of power, in a single State, aided by one fourth of the States—a government by which the minority may control the majority in all cases whatsoever. Thus, Carolina frames any law or ordinance she thinks she may lawfully do in the exercise of her reserved rights. She gives clearances for vessels, for instance, to introduce all imports free of all duties. When once introduced into Carolina, she has, or claims and exercises the right under the Constitution of introducing these imports free of all duties into every other State in the Union. Two thirds of the States have passed an act of Congress imposing certain duties on foreign imports: as separate States they can pass no such laws, having surrendered that power in the Constitution of the Union. Can Carolina compel them to receive all foreign imports free of all duties? Yet she says this is one of her reserved rights, and she may forever constitutionally exercise it, in defiance of an act of Congress passed by two thirds of the States. Such a government would be an oligarchy of the most odious and detestable character. The right of the people of any State, or of any portion of them, to meet intolerable oppression by revolution is certain; but, in Mr. Jefferson's rough draught of the Kentucky resolutions (now attempted to be substituted for his deliberate conclusions as contained in the resolutions themselves), does he advocate nullification by a single State as aconstitutionalremedy, by a State remaining in the Union and submitting only to such laws as it deemed valid. No; it was not as aconstitutional, but as a 'NATURALright,' that Mr. Jefferson spoke of nullification by the people of a State. I say the people, for Mr. Jefferson well knew that the 'naturalright' of a State to nullify, as an artificial body politic, would be a contradiction in terms. This 'naturalright' is apersonal, as contradistinguished from aStateright; it is inalienable—it is neither given nor reserved by constitutional compacts—it exists in citizens of every State, the minority as well as the majority, and not in the government of any one State. But the exercise of this right isrevolution—it is a declaration of independence—it iswar, and appeals to the sword as its umpire. Let no State, then, claim to stand on the basis of the Constitution of the Union, while stripping it of its vital powers, or setting up its will for law. No, the ordinance of Carolina is not a peaceful, constitutional remedy: it is a nullification of the Government itself, sweeping away its revenues, its courts, and its officers; it is a repeal of the Union; it is despotic; it is revolutionary; it is belligerent; it is a declaration of war or separate independence. It looks beyond a repeal of the Tariff; for, whether the Tariff be repealed or not, it asks to engraft the doctrine of nullification as a permanent feature of the Constitution, applicable in every case in which any State may deem any act of Congress unconstitutional. Then each one of the States may take up the volumes containing all the acts of Congress, and repeal them all by one sweeping edict of nullification; for there is no limitation to the exercise of the power but her own will. It is said no State will abuse the power; but if a majority of the States, by their representatives in Congress, may abuse delegated powers, is there no danger that one of these same States, by their representatives at home, may mistake the nature of their powers, and endanger the Union by a usurpation of power? Or do the same people, and voting at the same period in any State, elect men to Congress who will violate, and to the councils of the State, who will uniformly preserve the Constitution? A State declared the last war unconstitutional: must the war be nullified, or, by the new theory, suspended, till, by a slow and tedious process, its constitutionality be affirmed by three fourths of the States? But, in the mean time, all hostile operations must cease, our army be disbanded, our navy recalled, and no further supplies decreed of money, ammunition, or men. And when one State thus nullifies any act of Congress, she is not required to be sustained by the vote of any other State: the one fourth are only required to refuse to act—to remain neutral—if they consider the act of Congress inexpedient, although they believe it constitutional. Suppose the New-England States, after the war was pronounced unconstitutional by a single State, had refused to call a convention to amend the Constitution, or, if called, to grant the disputed power; then the war must have been abandoned, the minority must govern, and our country be disgraced, our seamen permitted to be pressed from the very decks of our vessels into foreign service, and the maritime despotism of Britain established without even a struggle in defence of our liberties. Shall opposition to the Tariff betray us into the support of doctrines so utterly subversive of the Constitution, and inconsistent with the existence of any government of the Union?
Once this power was threatened to be assumed by Massachusetts, now by South Carolina, and how and by what State it will next be exercised, or what vital power it may next strike from the Constitution, it is impossible to predict; but, if permitted in one State, it will be exercised by all, till not a vestige remains of the Constitution of the Union. Suppose the Tariff repealed by Congress, nullification may annul the repealing law. Louisiana may, in the exercise of her right of ultimate judgment, declare that the repealing law is unconstitutional, upon the pretext that it destroys rights vested by the first law and violates the plighted faith of the Government, insist on the collection of duties under the first law, pass her ordinance, array her State officers against those of the Union, and thus destroy the commerce of Mississippi, and of all the Western States, or compel the collection of the present duties. Or she may say that, if Congress possesses no power to lay duties which will operate an incidental protection, Louisiana possesses the reserved right of imposing duties for that purpose; that each State possessed it before it became a member of the Union; that duties for revenue only can be collected by the General Government, and that the residuary power to lay duties for protection is one of the powers of a sovereign State; that she will exercise it, and impose protecting duties on imports, and thus we shall have various and conflicting State tariffs from Maine to Louisiana (the very object which the Constitution was designed to prevent); but if Louisiana alone adopt the measure, the commerce of the West is prostrate at her feet.
It is in the name of liberty and to protect minorities, that nullification professes to act; while in its first ordinance it sweeps away the dearest rights of a large minority of the people of Carolina, and binds the freedom of conscience in adamantine chains. It deprives American citizens of that last and hitherto sacred refuge from oppression, a trial by an impartial jury, and requires the very judges upon the bench and jurors within the box to be sworn to condemn the unhappy man whose only crime was this: that he claimed the Government of the Union as his birthright, and acknowledged the duty of obedience to its laws. Such are the opening scenes of nullification; and, if not arrested, where or how will the drama close? In all the horrors of civil war. Turn your eyes upon the scenes of the French Revolution, and behold them about to be reacted within the limits of a sister State. Already nullification calls upon its twelve thousand bayonets; friend is rising against friend, and brother against brother, under the banner of Carolina on the one side, of the Union on the other; the inflammable materials are ready, the spark approaches, the explosion may soon take place, and the genius of liberty, rising in anguish from the bloodstained fields of Carolina, spread her pinions, and wing her way forever from a world, on one side of whose waters despotism reigns triumphant, and, upon the other, anarchy, with one foot upon the scroll of the Declaration of American Independence, and with the other upon the broken tablet of the Constitution of the Union, shall wave that sceptre, whereon shall be inscribed the motto, never to be effaced: 'Man is incapable of self-government.' Yes, this is the best, the brightest, the last experiment of self-government: universalfreedomor universalbondageis staked on the result of the success or failure of the American Union; and as it shall be maintained and perpetuated, or broken and dissolved, the light of liberty shall beam upon the hopes of mankind, or be forever extinguished, amid the scoffs of exulting tyrants and the groans of a world in bondage. Rising, then, above all minor considerations, and lifting our souls to the contemplation of that lofty eminence on which Heaven itself has vouchsafed to place the American people, as the only guardians of the hopes and liberties of mankind, let us act as becomes the depositaries of that sacred fire which burns on the altars of the American Union, and resolve that this Union shall be preserved, all whole and inviolate, as we received it from the hands of our forefathers.
But, if nullification is not a constitutional remedy, we are told thatsecessionis; and a few, who deny the one, admit the other; and our venerable chief magistrate (Jackson) has been proclaimed as a Federalist, because he denies the right of secession; and many of his supporters, although some may not concur in every argument by which he arrives at his conclusions, but concur in the conclusions themselves, are visited with a similar denunciation. Sir, the President is one of the fathers and founders of the Democratic party—one of its earliest and most steadfast supporters,in defeat and triumph, in war and in peace, in sunshine and in storm. In the Senate of the United States he voted against the alien law, and was a zealous advocate of the principles which resulted in the election of Mr. Jefferson, and the great political revolution of 1800; and if any one man has done more to support all the just rights of the States than General Jackson, that man is not known to me. It is now nearly ten years since I had the honor to propose the name of this illustrious patriot to the first meeting of a portion of the Democracy of Pennsylvania as a candidate for the presidency, and I will not hear him denounced as a Federalist without, at least, an effort in his defence. Who made the right of secession as a constitutional right of every State an article in the creed of the Democratic party, and by what authority? By what reasoning is nullification denounced, and secession supported, as a constitutional remedy? If there be any real difference, the former is check, and the latter a check-mate, to the movements of the Government of the Union. The same reasoning demonstrates the fallacy of nullification or secession, with equal clearness and certainty. A State cannot nullify a law of the Union, because theConstitutionandlawsof the State are madesubordinateto the Constitution and laws of the Union, by a compact to which the people of each State were one party, and bound themselves to the people of all the other States, as the other party. One State cannot change the compact, or any of its terms or provisions, yet it may rescind the compact at pleasure! It would be abuse of language to call such an instrument acompact, because it would be obligatory upon none. Without the constitutional right to nullify a law of Congress by the ultimate judgment of the State against it, how could the constitutional power of secession arise? It is said, from a violation of the Constitution of the Union by the General Government; but if a State has not, as the opponents of nullification admit, any right to pass ultimate judgment on the constitutionality of an act of Congress, how can it make the supposed violation of the Constitution by the General Government the basis of the act of secession? The preamble of the ordinance on which the State would rest its act of secession, by asserting the unconstitutionality of an act of Congress, would be swept away by the non-existence of a power in a single State to pronounce ultimate judgment upon the acts of the Government of the Union; and the preamble and ordinance of secession would fall together. Thus, when Carolina, in her ordinance, first declares certain acts of Congress unconstitutional, and proceeds, with the same ordinance, to nullification first, and then to secession, we deny her constitutional right to nullify or secede for the same reason; because the right declared by her ordinance to render an act of Congress unconstitutional by the judgment of a single State is a usurpation of power. Governor Hayne, of Carolina, in his late proclamation, inquires if that State was linked to the Union 'in the iron bonds of a perpetual Union.' These bonds were not of iron, or Carolina would have never worn them, but they are the enduring chain of peace and Union. One link could not be severed from this chain, united in all its parts, without an entire dissolution of all the bonds of union; and one State cannot dissolve the union among all the States. Yet Carolina admits this to be the inevitable consequence of the separation of that State; for, in the address of her convention, she declares that 'the separation of South Carolina would inevitably produce ageneral dissolution of the Union.' Has the Government of the Union no power topreserve itself from destruction, or must we submit to a 'general dissolution of the Union' whenever any one State thinks proper to issue the despotic mandate? It was the declared object of our ancestors, the hope of their children, thatthey had formed 'aPERPETUALUnion.' The original compact of Carolina with her sister States, by which the confederacy was erected, is called 'Articles of Confederation andperpetualUnion.' In the thirteenth article of this confederacy, it is expressly declared that 'the Union shall beperpetual;' and in the ratification of this compact, South Carolina united with her sister States in declaring: 'And we do further solemnly plight and engage the faith of our respective constituents' that 'the Unionshall be perpetual;' and may she now withdraw this pledge without a violation of the compact? By the old confederacy, then, the Union wasperpetual; and the declared object of the Constitution was to form 'a more perfect Union' than that existing under the former confederacy. Now, would this Union be more perfect under the new than the old confederacy, if by the latter the Union was perpetual, but, under the former, limited in its duration at the will of a single State?