CHAPTER XXV.

The history of this mission, or attempted mission (for it never took effect, though eventually sanctioned by both Houses of Congress), deserves a place in this inside view of the working of our government. Though long since sunk into oblivion, and its name almost forgotten, it was a master subject on the political theatre during its day; and gave rise to questions of national, and of constitutional law, and of national policy, the importance of which survive the occasion from which they sprung; and the solution of which (as then solved), may be some guide to future action, if similar questions again occur. Besides the grave questions to which the subject gave rise, the subject itself became one of unusual and painful excitement. It agitated the people, made a violent debate in the two Houses of Congress, inflamed the passions of parties and individuals, raised a tempest before which Congress bent, made bad feeling between the President and the Senate; and led to the duel between Mr. Randolph and Mr. Clay. It was an administration measure, and pressed by all the means known to an administration. It was evidently relied upon as a means of acting upon the people—as a popular movement, which might have the effect of turning the tide which was then running high against Mr. Adams and Mr. Clay on account of the election in the House of Representatives, and the broad doctrines of the inaugural address, and of the first annual message; and it was doubtless well imagined for that purpose. It was an American movement, and republican. It was the assembly of the American states of Spanish origin, counselling for their mutual safety and independence; and presenting the natural wish for the United States to place herself at their head, as the eldest sister of the new republics, and the one whose example and institutions the others had followed. The monarchies of Europe had formed a "Holy Alliance," to check the progress of liberty: it seemed just that the republics of the New World should confederate against the dangers of despotism. The subject had a charm in it; and the name and place of meeting recalled classic and cherished recollections. It was on an isthmus—the Isthmus of Panama—which connected the two Americas, the Grecian republics had their isthmus—that of Corinth—where their deputies assembled. All the advantages in the presentation of the question were on the side of the administration. It addressed itself to the imagination—to the passions—to the prejudices;—and could only be met by the cold and sober suggestions of reason and judgment. It had the prestige of name and subject, and was half victor before the contest began; and it required bold men to make head against it.

The debate began in the Senate, upon the nomination of ministers; and as the Senate sat with closed doors, their objections were not heard, while numerous presses, and popular speakers, excited the public mind in favor of the measure, and inflamed it against the Senate for delaying its sanction. It was a plan conceived by the new Spanish American republics, and prepared as a sort of amphictyonic council for the settlement of questions among themselves; and, to which, in a manner which had much the appearance of our own procuring, we had received an invitation to send deputies. The invitation was most seductively exhibited in all the administration presses; and captivated all young and ardent imaginations. The people were roused: the majority in both Houses of Congress gave way (many against their convictions, as they frankly told me), while the project itself—our participation in it—was utterly condemned by the principles of our constitution, and by the policy which forbade "entangling alliances," and the proposed congress itself was not even a diplomatic body to which ministers could be sent under the law of nations. To counteract the effect of this outside current, the Senate, on the motion of Mr. Van Buren, adopted a resolve to debate the question with open doors, "unless, in the opinion of the President, the publication of documents necessary to be referred to in debate should be prejudicial to existing negotiations:" and a copy of the resolve was sent to Mr. Adams for his opinion on that point. He declined to give it, and left it to the Senate to decide for itself, "the question of an unexampled departure from its own usages, and upon the motives of which not being himself informed, he did not feel himself competent to decide." This reference to the motives of themembers, and the usages of the Senate, with its clear implication of the badness of one, and the violation of the other, gave great offence in the Senate, and even led to a proposition (made by Mr. Rowan of Kentucky), not to act on the nominations until the information requested should be given. In the end the Senate relinquished the idea of a public debate, and contented itself with its publication after it was over. Mr. John Sergeant of Pennsylvania, and Mr. Richard Clark Anderson of Kentucky, were the ministers nominated; and, the question turning wholly upon the mission itself, and not upon the persons nominated (to whose fitness there was no objection), they were confirmed by a close vote—24 to 20. The negatives were:Messrs.Benton, Berrien, Branch, Chandler, Cobb (Thomas W. of Georgia), Dickerson, Eaton, Findlay, Hayne, Holmes of Maine, Kane, King of Alabama, Macon, Randolph, Tazewell, Rowan, Van Buren, White of Tennessee, Williams of Mississippi, Woodbury. The Vice-President, Mr. Calhoun, presiding in the Senate, had no vote, the constitutional contingency to authorize it not having occurred: but he was full and free in the expression of his opinion against the mission.

It was very nearly a party vote, the democracy as a party, being against it: but of those of the party who voted for it, the design of this history (which is to show the working of the government) requires it to be told that there was afterwards, either to themselves or relatives, some large dispensations of executive patronage. Their votes may have been conscientious; but in that case, it would have been better to have vindicated the disinterestedness of the act, by the total refusal of executive favor. Mr. Adams commenced right, by asking the advice of the Senate, before he instituted the mission; but the manner in which the object was pursued, made it a matter of opposition to the administration to refuse it, and greatly impaired the harmony which ought to exist between the President and the Senate. After all, the whole conception of the Panama congress was an abortion. It died out of itself, without ever having been once held—not even by the states which had conceived it. It was incongruous and impracticable, even for them,—more apt to engender disputes among themselves than to harmonize action against Spain,—and utterly foreign to us, and dangerous to our peace and institutions. The basis of the agreement for the congress, was the existing state of war between all the new states and the mother country—Spanish pride and policy being slow to acknowledge the independence of revolted colonies, no matter how independent in fact;—and the wish to establish concert among themselves, in the mode of treating her commerce, and that of such of her American possessions (Cuba, Porto Rico), as had not thrown off their subjection. We were at peace with Spain, and could not go into any such council without compromising our neutrality, and impairing the integrity of our national character. Besides the difficulties it would involve with Spain, there was one subject specified in the treaties for discussion and settlement in that congress, namely, the considerations of future relations with the government of Haiti, which would have been a firebrand in the southern half of our Union,—not to be handled or touched by our government any where. The publication of the secret debates in the Senate on the nomination of the ministers, and the public discussion in the House of Representatives on the appropriation clauses, to carry the mission into effect, succeeded, after some time, in dissipating all the illusions which had fascinated the public mind—turned the current against the administration—made the project a new head of objection to its authors; and in a short time it would have been impossible to obtain any consideration for it, either in Congress or before the people. It is now entirely forgotten, but deserves to be remembered in this View of the working of the government, to show the questions of policy, of national and constitutional law which were discussed—the excitement which can be got up without foundation, and against reason—how public men can bend before a storm—how all the departments of the government can go wrong:—and how the true conservative power in our country is in the people, in their judgment and reason, and in steady appeals to their intelligence and patriotism.

Mr. Adams communicated the objects of the proposed congress, so far as the United States could engage in them, in a special message to the Senate; in which, disclaiming all part in any deliberations of a belligerent character, or design to contract alliances, or to engage in any project importing hostility to any other nation, he enumerated, as the measures in which we could well take part, 1. The establishment of liberal principlesof commercial intercourse, which he supposed could be best done in an assembly of all the American states together. 2. The consentaneous adoption of principles of maritime neutrality. 3. The doctrine that free ships make free goods. 4. An agreement that the "Monroe doctrine," as it is called, should be adopted by the congress, each state to guard, by its own means, its own territory from future European colonization. The enunciation of this doctrine, so different from what it has of late been supposed to be, as binding the United States to guard all the territory of the New World from European colonization, makes it proper to give this passage from Mr. Adams's message in his own words. They are these: "An agreement between all the parties represented at the meeting, that each will guard, by its own means, against the establishment of any future European colony within its borders, may be found advisable. This was, more than two years since, announced by my predecessor to the world, as a principle resulting from the emancipation of both the American continents. It may be so developed to the new southern nations, that they may feel it as an essential appendage to their independence." These were the words of Mr. Adams, who had been a member of Mr. Monroe's cabinet, and filling the department from which the doctrine would emanate; written at a time when the enunciation of it was still fresh, and when he himself, in a communication to the American Senate, was laying it down for the adoption of all the American nations in a general congress of their deputies. The circumstances of the communication render it incredible that Mr. Adams could be deceived in his understanding; and, according to him, this "Monroe doctrine" (according to which it has been of late believed that the United States were to stand guard over the two Americas, and repulse all intrusive colonists from their shores), was entirely confined to our own borders: that it was only proposed to get the other states of the New World to agree that, each for itself, and by its own means, should guard its own territories: and, consequently, that the United States, so far from extending gratuitous protection to the territories of other states, would neither give, nor receive, aid in any such enterprise, but that each should use its own means, within its own borders, for its own exemption from European colonial intrusion. 5. A fifth object proposed by Mr. Adams, in which he supposed our participation in the business of the Panama congress might be rightfully and beneficially admitted, related to the advancement of religious liberty: and as this was a point at which the message encountered much censure, I will give it in its own words. They are these "There is yet another subject upon which, with out entering into any treaty, the moral influence of the United States may, perhaps, be exerted with beneficial influence at such meeting—the advancement of religious liberty. Some of the southern nations are, even yet, so far under the dominion of prejudice, that they have incorporated, with their political constitutions, an exclusive Church, without toleration of any other than the dominant sect. The abandonment of this last badge of religious bigotry and oppression, may be pressed more effectually by the united exertions of those who concur in the principles of freedom of conscience, upon those who are yet to be convinced of their justice and wisdom, than by the solitary efforts of a minister to any one of their separate governments." 6. The sixth and last object named by Mr. Adams was, to give proofs of our good will to all the new southern republics, by accepting their invitation to join them in the congress which they proposed of American nations. The President enumerated no others of the objects to which the discussions of the congress might be directed; but in the papers which he communicated with the invitations he had received, many others were mentioned, one of which was, "the basis on which the relations with Haiti should be placed;" and the other, "to consider and settle the future relations with Cuba and Porto Rico."

The message was referred to the Senate's Committee on Foreign Affairs, consisting of Mr. Macon, Mr. Tazewell, and Mr. Gaillard of South Carolina, Mr. Mills of Massachusetts, and Mr. Hugh L. White of Tennessee. The committee reported adversely to the President's recommendation, and replied to the message, point by point. It is an elaborate document, of great ability and research, and well expressed the democratic doctrines of that day. It was presented by Mr. Macon, the chairman of the committee, and was drawn, by Mr. Tazewell, and was the report of which Mr. Macon, when complimented upon it, was accustomed to answer,"Yes: it is a good report. Tazewell wrote it." But it was his also; for no power could have made him present it, without declaring the fact, if he had not approved it. The general principle of the report was that of good will and friendship to all the young republics, and the cultivation of social, commercial and political relations with each one individually; but no entangling connection, and no internal interference with any one. On the suggestion of advancing religious freedom, the committee remark:

"In the opinion of this committee, there is no proposition, concerning which the people of the United States are now and ever have been more unanimous, than that which denies, not merely the expediency, but the right of intermeddling with the internal affairs of other states; and especially of seeking to alter any provision they may have thought proper to adopt as a fundamental law, or may have incorporated with their political constitutions. And if there be any such subject more sacred and delicate than another, as to which the United States ought never to intermeddle, even by obtrusive advice, it is that which concerns religious liberty. The most cruel and devastating wars have been produced by such interferences; the blood of man has been poured out in torrents; and, from the days of the crusades to the present hour, no benefit has resulted to the human family, from discussions carried on by nations upon such subjects. Among the variety even of Christian nations which now inhabit the earth, rare indeed are the examples to be found of states who have not established an exclusive church; and to far the greater number of these toleration is yet unknown. In none of the communications which have taken place, is the most distant allusion made to this delicate subject, by any of the ministers who have given this invitation; and the committee feel very confident in the opinion, that, if ever an intimation shall be made to the sovereignties they represent, that it was the purpose of the United States to discuss at the proposed congress, their plans of internal civil polity, or any thing touching the supposed interests of their religious establishments, the invitation given would soon be withdrawn."

On the subject of the "Monroe doctrine," the report shows that, one of the new republics (Colombia) proposed that this doctrine should be enforced "by the joint and united efforts of all the states to be represented in the congress, who should be bound by a solemn convention to secure this end. It was in answer to this proposition that the President in his message showed the extent of that doctrine to be limited to our own territories, and that all that we could do, would be to enter into agreement that each should guard, by its own means, against the establishment of any foreign colony within its borders. Even such an agreement the committee deemed unadvisable, and that there was no more reason for making it a treaty stipulation than there was for reducing to such stipulations any other of the "high, just, and universally admitted rights of all nations." The favorable commercial treaties which the President expected to obtain, the committee believed would be more readily obtained from each nation separately (in which opinion their foresight has been justified by the event); and that each treaty would be the more easily kept in proportion to the smaller number of parties to it. The ameliorations of the laws of nations which the President proposed, in the adoption of principles of maritime neutrality, and that free ships should make free goods, and the restriction of paper blockades, were deemed by the committee objects beyond the enforcement of the American states alone; and the enforcement of which, if agreed to, might bring the chief burthen of enforcement upon the United States; and the committee doubted the policy of undertaking, by negotiation with these nations, to settle abstract propositions, as parts of public law. On the subject of Cuba and Porto Rico, the report declared that the United States could never regard with indifference their actual condition, or future destiny;—but deprecated any joint action in relation to them, or any action to which they themselves were not parties; and it totally discountenanced any joint discussion or action in relation to the future of Haïti. To the whole of the new republics, the report expressed the belief that, the retention of our present unconnected and friendly position towards them, would be most for their own benefit, and enable the United States to act most effectually for them in the case of needing our good offices. It said:

"While the United States retain the position which they have hitherto occupied, and manifest a constant determination not to mingle their interests with those of the other states of America, they may continue to employ the influence which they possess, and have already happily exerted, with the nations of Europe, in favor of these new republics. But, if ever the United States permit themselves to be associated with these nations in any general congress, assembled for the discussion of common plans, in the way affecting European interests, they will, by such an act, notonly deprive themselves of the ability they now possess, of rendering useful assistance to the other American states, but also produce other effects, prejudicial to their own interests. Then, the powers of Europe, who have hitherto confided in the sagacity, vigilance, and impartiality of the United States, to watch, detect, announce, and restrain any disposition that the heat of the existing contest might excite in the new states of America, to extend their empires beyond their own limits, and who have, therefore, considered their possessions and commerce in America safe, while so guarded, would no longer feel this confidence."

The advantage of pursuing our old policy, and maintaining friendly relations with all powers, "entangling alliances with none," was forcibly presented in a brief and striking paragraph:

"And the United States, who have grown up in happiness, to their present prosperity, by a strict observance of their old well-known course of policy, and by manifesting entire good will and most profound respect for all other nations, must prepare to embark their future destinies upon an unknown and turbulent ocean, directed by little experience, and destined for no certain haven. In such a voyage the dissimilitude existing between themselves and their associates, in interest, character, language, religion, manners, customs, habits, laws, and almost every other particular: and the rivalship these discrepancies must surely produce amongst them, would generate discords, which, if they did not destroy all hope of its successful termination, would make even success itself the ultimate cause of new and direful conflicts between themselves. Such has been the issue of all such enterprises in past time; and we have therefore strong reasons to expect in the future, similar results from similar causes."

The committee dissented from the President on the point of his right to institute the mission without the previous advice and consent of the Senate. The President averred his right to do so: but deemed it advisable, under all the circumstances, to waive the right, and ask the advice. The committee averred the right of the Senate to decide directly upon the expedience of thisnew mission; grounding the right upon its originality, and holding that when anew missionis to be instituted it is the creation of an office, not the filling of a vacancy; and that the Senate have a right to decide upon the expediency of theoffice itself.

I spoke myself on this question, and to all the points which it presented, and on the subject of relations with Haiti (on which a uniform rule was to be determined on, or a rule with modifications, according to the proposition of Colombia) I held that our policy was fixed, and could be neither altered, nor discussed in any foreign assembly; and especially in the one proposed; all the other parties to which had already placed the two races (black and white) on the basis of political equality. I said:

"Our policy towards Haïti, the old San Domingo, has been fixed for three and thirty years. We trade with her, but no diplomatic relations have been established between us. We purchase coffee from her, and pay her for it; but we interchange no consuls or ministers. We receive no mulatto consuls, or black ambassadors from her. And why? Because the peace of eleven States in this Union will not permit the fruits of a successful negro insurrection to be exhibited among them. It will not permit black consuls and ambassadors to establish themselves in our cities, and to parade through our country, and give to their fellow blacks in the United States, proof in hand of the honors which await them, for a like successful effort on their part. It will not permit the fact to be seen, and told, that for the murder of their masters and mistresses, they are to findfriendsamong the white people of these United States. No, this is a question which has beendeterminedHEREfor three and thirty years; one which has never been open for discussion, at home or abroad, neither under the Presidency of Gen. Washington, of the first Mr. Adams, of Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Madison, or Mr. Monroe. It is one which cannot be discussed inthischamber onthisday; and shall we go to Panama to discuss it? I take it in the mildest supposed character of this Congress—shall we go there toadviseandconsultin council about it? Who are to advise and sit in judgment upon it? Five nations who have already put the black man upon an equality with the white, not only in their constitutions but in real life: five nations who have at this moment (at least some of them) black generals in their armies and mulatto senators in their congresses!"

No question, in its day, excited more heat and intemperate discussion, or more feeling between a President and Senate, than this proposed mission to the congress of American nations at Panama; and no heated question ever cooled off, and died out so suddenly and completely. And now the chief benefit to be derived from its retrospect—and that indeed is a real one—is a view of the firmness with which was then maintained by a minority, the old policy of the United States, to avoid entangling alliances and interference with the affairs of other nations;—and the exposition of the Monroe doctrine, from one so competent to give it as Mr. Adams.

It was Saturday, the first day of April, towards noon, the Senate not being that day in session, that Mr. Randolph came to my room at Brown's Hotel, and (without explaining the reason of the question) asked me if I was a blood-relation of Mrs. Clay? I answered that I was, and he immediately replied that that put an end to a request which he had wished to make of me; and then went on to tell me that he had just received a challenge from Mr. Clay, had accepted it, was ready to go out, and would apply to Col. Tatnall to be his second. Before leaving, he told me he would make my bosom the depository of a secret which he should commit to no other person: it was, that he did not intend to fire at Mr. Clay. He told it to me because he wanted a witness of his intention, and did not mean to tell it to his second or any body else; and enjoined inviolable secrecy until the duel was over. This was the first notice I had of the affair. The circumstances of the delivery of the challenge I had from Gen. Jesup, Mr. Clay's second, and they were so perfectly characteristic of Mr. Randolph that I give them in detail, and in the General's own words:

"I was unable to see Mr. Randolph until the morning of the 1st of April, when I called on him for the purpose of delivering the note. Previous to presenting it however, I thought it proper to ascertain from Mr. Randolph himself whether the information which Mr. Clay had received—that he considered himself personally accountable for the attack on him—was correct. I accordingly informed Mr. Randolph that I was the bearer of a message from Mr. Clay, in consequence of an attack which he had made upon his private as well as public character in the Senate; that I was aware no one had the right to question him out of the Senate for any thing said in debate, unless he chose voluntarily to waive his privileges as a member of that body. Mr. Randolph replied, that the constitution did protect him, but he would never shield himself under such a subterfuge as the pleading of his privilege as a senator from Virginia; that he did hold himself accountable to Mr. Clay; but he said that gentleman had first two pledges to redeem: one that he had bound himself to fight any member of the House of Representatives, who should acknowledge himself the author of a certain publication in a Philadelphia paper; and the other that he stood pledged to establish certain facts in regard to a great man, whom he would not name; but, he added he could receive no verbal message from Mr. Clay—that any message from him must be in writing. I replied that I was not authorized by Mr. Clay to enter into or receive any verbal explanations—that the inquiries I had made were for my own satisfaction and upon my own responsibility—that the only message of which I was the bearer was in writing. I then presented the note, and remarked that I knew nothing of Mr. Clay's pledges; but that if they existed as he (Mr. Randolph) understood them, and he was aware of them when he made the attack complained of, he could not avail himself of them—that by making the attack I thought he had waived them himself. He said he had not the remotest intention of taking advantage of the pledges referred to; that he had mentioned them merely to remind me that he was waiving his privilege, not only as a senator from Virginia, but as a private gentleman; that he was ready to respond to Mr. Clay, and would be obliged to me if I would bear his note in reply; and that he would in the course of the day look out for a friend. I declined being the bearer of his note, but informed him my only reason for declining was, that I thought he owed it to himself to consult his friends before taking so important a step. He seized my hand, saying, 'You are right, sir. I thank you for the suggestion: but as you do not take my note, you must not be impatient if you should not hear from me to-day. I now think of only two friends, and there are circumstances connected with one of them which may deprive me of his services, and the other is in bad health—he was sick yesterday, and may not be out to-day.' I assured him that any reasonable time which he might find necessary to take would be satisfactory. I took leave of him; and it is due to his memory to say that his bearing was, throughout the interview, that of a high-toned, chivalrous gentleman of the old school."

These were the circumstances of the delivery of the challenge, and the only thing necessary to give them their character is to recollect that, with this prompt acceptance and positive refusal to explain, and this extra cut about the two pledges, there was a perfect determination not to fire at Mr. Clay. That determination rested on two grounds; first, an entire unwillingness to hurt Mr. Clay; and, next, a conviction that to return the fire would be to answer, and would be an implied acknowledgment of Mr. Clay's right to make him answer. This he would not do, neither by implication nor in words. He denied the right of any person to question him out of the Senate for words spoken within it. He took a distinctionbetween man and senator. As senator he had a constitutional immunity, given for a wise purpose, and which he would neither surrender nor compromise; as individual he was ready to give satisfaction for what was deemed an injury. He would receive, but not return a fire. It was as much as to say: Mr. Clay may fire at me for what has offended him; I will not, by returning the fire, admit his right to do so. This was a subtle distinction, and that in case of life and death, and not very clear to the common intellect; but to Mr. Randolph both clear and convincing. His allusion to the "two pledges unredeemed," which he might have plead in bar to Mr. Clay's challenge, and would not, was another sarcastic cut at Mr. Adams and Mr. Clay, while rendering satisfaction for cuts already given. The "member of the House" was Mr. George Kremer, of Pennsylvania, who, at the time of the presidential election in the House of Representatives, had avowed himself to be the author of an anonymous publication, the writer of which Mr. Clay had threatened to call to account if he would avow himself—and did not. The "great man" was President Adams, with whom Mr. Clay had had a newspaper controversy, involving a question of fact,—which had been postponed. The cause of this sarcastic cut, and of all the keen personality in the Panama speech, was the belief that the President and Secretary, the latter especially, encouraged the newspapers in their interest to attack him, which they did incessantly; and he chose to overlook the editors and retaliate upon the instigators, as he believed them to be. This he did to his heart's content in that speech—and to their great annoyance, as the coming of the challenge proved. The "two friends" alluded to were Col. Tatnall and myself, and the circumstances which might disqualify one of the two were those of my relationship to Mrs. Clay, of which he did not know the degree, and whether of affinity or consanguinity—considering the first no obstacle, the other a complete bar to my appearing as his second—holding, as he did, with the tenacity of an Indian, to the obligations of blood, and laying but little stress on marriage connections. His affable reception and courteous demeanor to Gen. Jesup were according to his own high breeding, and the decorum which belonged to such occasions. A duel in the circle to which he belonged was "an affair of honor;" and high honor, according to its code, must pervade every part of it. General Jesup had come upon an unpleasant business. Mr. Randolph determined to put him at his ease; and did it so effectually as to charm him into admiration. The whole plan of his conduct, down to contingent details, was cast in his mind instantly, as if by intuition, and never departed from. The acceptance, the refusal to explain, the determination not to fire, the first and second choice of a friend, and the circumstances which might disqualify one and delay the other, the additional cut, and the resolve to fall, if he fell, on the soil of Virginia—was all, to his mind, a single emanation, the flash of an instant. He needed no consultations, no deliberations to arrive at all these important conclusions. I dwell upon these small circumstances because they are characteristic, and show the man—a man who belongs to history, and had his own history, and should be known as he was. That character can only be shown in his own conduct, his own words and acts: and this duel with Mr. Clay illustrates it at many points. It is in that point of view that I dwell upon circumstances which might seem trivial, but which are not so, being illustrative of character and significant to their smallest particulars.

The acceptance of the challenge was in keeping with the whole proceeding—prompt in the agreement to meet, exact in protesting against therightto call him out, clear in the waiver of his constitutional privilege, brief and cogent in presenting the case as one of some reprehension—the case of a member of an administration challenging a senator for words spoken in debate of that administration; and all in brief, terse, and superlatively decorous language. It ran thus:

"Mr. Randolph accepts the challenge of Mr. Clay. At the same time he protests against therightof any minister of the Executive Government of the United States to hold him responsible for words spoken in debate, as a senator from Virginia, in crimination of such minister, or the administration under which he shall have taken office. Colonel Tatnall, of Georgia, the bearer of this letter, is authorized to arrange with General Jesup (the bearer of Mr. Clay's challenge) the terms of the meeting to which Mr. Randolph is invited by that note."

Thisprotestwhich Mr. Randolph entered against the right of Mr. Clay to challenge him, led to an explanation between their mutual friends on that delicate point—a point which concerned the independence of debate, the privilegesof the Senate, the immunity of a member, and the sanctity of the constitution. It was a point which Mr. Clay felt; and the explanation which was had between the mutual friends presented an excuse, if not a justification, for his proceeding. He had been informed that Mr. Randolph, in his speech, had avowed his responsibility to Mr. Clay, and waived his privilege—a thing which, if it had been done, would have been a defiance, and stood for an invitation to Mr. Clay to send a challenge. Mr. Randolph, through Col. Tatnall, disavowed that imputed avowal, and confined his waiver of privilege to the time of the delivery of the challenge, and in answer to an inquiry before it was delivered.

The following are the communications between the respective seconds on this point:

"In regard to theprotestwith which Mr. Randolph's note concludes, it is due to Mr. Clay to say that he had been informed Mr. Randolph did, and would, hold himself responsible to him for any observations he might make in relation to him; and that I (Gen. Jesup) distinctly understood from Mr. Randolph, before I delivered the note of Mr. Clay, that he waived his privilege as a senator."

To this Col. Tatnall replied:

"As this expression (did and would hold himself responsible, &c.) may be construed to mean that Mr. Randolph had given this intimation not only before called upon, but in such a manner as to throw out to Mr. Clay something like an invitation to make such a call, I have, on the part of Mr. Randolph, to disavow any disposition, when expressing his readiness to waive his privilege as a senator from Virginia, to invite, in any case, a call upon him for personal satisfaction. The concluding paragraph of your note, I presume, is intended to show merely that you did not present a note, such as that of Mr. Clay to Mr. Randolph, until you had ascertained his willingness to waive his privilege as a senator. This I infer, as it was in your recollection that the expression of such a readiness on the part of Mr. Randolph was in reply to an inquiry on that point made by yourself."

Thus an irritating circumstance in the affair was virtually negatived, and its offensive import wholly disavowed. For my part, I do not believe that Mr. Randolph used such language in his speech. I have no recollection of having heard it. The published report of the speech, as taken down by the reporters and not revised by the speaker, contains nothing of it. Such gasconade was foreign to Mr. Randolph's character. The occasion was not one in which these sort of defiances are thrown out, which are either to purchase a cheap reputation when it is known they will be despised, or to get an advantage in extracting a challenge when there is a design to kill. Mr. Randolph had none of these views with respect to Mr. Clay. He had no desire to fight him, or to hurt him, or gain cheap character by appearing to bully him. He was above all that, and had settled accounts with him in his speech, and wanted no more. I do not believe it was said; but there was a part of the speech which might have received a wrong application, and led to the erroneous report: a part which applied to a quoted passage in Mr. Adams's Panama message, which he condemned and denounced, and dared the President and his friends to defend. His words were, as reported unrevised: "Here I plant my foot; here I fling defiance right into his (the President's) teeth; here I throw the gauntlet to him and the bravest of his compeers to come forward and defend these lines," &c. A very palpable defiance this, but very different from a summons to personal combat, and from what was related to Mr. Clay. It was an unfortunate report, doubtless the effect of indistinct apprehension, and the more to be regretted as, after having been a main cause inducing the challenge, the disavowal could not stop it.

Thus the agreement for the meeting was absolute; and, according to the expectation of the principals, the meeting itself would be immediately; but their seconds, from the most laudable feelings, determined to delay it, with the hope to prevent it, and did keep it off a week, admitting me to a participation in the good work, as being already privy to the affair and friendly to both parties. The challenge stated no specific ground of offence, specified no exceptionable words. It was peremptory and general, for an "unprovoked attack on his (Mr. Clay's) character," and it dispensed with explanations by alleging that the notoriety and indisputable existence of the injury superseded the necessity for them. Of course this demand was bottomed on a report of the words spoken—a verbal report, the full daily publication of the debates having not then begun—and that verbal report was of a character greatly to exasperate Mr. Clay. It stated that in the course of the debate Mr. Randolph said:

"That a letter from General Salazar, the Mexican Minister at Washington, submitted by the Executive to the Senate, bore the ear-mark of having been manufactured or forged by the Secretary of State, and denounced the administration as a corrupt coalition between the puritan and blackleg; and added, at the same time, that he (Mr. Randolph) held himself personally responsible for all that he had said."

This was the report to Mr. Clay, and upon which he gave the absolute challenge, and received the absolute acceptance, which shut out all inquiry between the principals into the causes of the quarrel. The seconds determined to open it, and to attempt an accommodation, or a peaceable determination of the difficulty. In consequence, General Jesup stated the complaint in a note to Col. Tatnall, thus:

"The injury of which Mr. Clay complains consists in this, that Mr. Randolph has charged him with having forged or manufactured a paper connected with the Panama mission; also, that he has applied to him in debate the epithet of blackleg. The explanation which I consider necessary is, that Mr. Randolph declare that he had no intention of charging Mr. Clay, either in his public or private capacity, with forging or falsifying any paper, or misrepresenting any fact; and also that the term blackleg was not intended to apply to him."

To this exposition of the grounds of the complaint, Col. Tatnall answered:

"Mr. Randolph informs me that the words used by him in debate were as follows: 'That I thought it would be in my power to show evidence sufficiently presumptive to satisfy a Charlotte (county) jury that this invitation was manufactured here—that Salazar's letter struck me as bearing a strong likeness in point of style to the other papers. I did not undertake to prove this, but expressed my suspicion that the fact was so. I applied to the administration the epithet, puritanic-diplomatic-black-legged administration.' Mr. Randolph, in giving these words as those uttered by him in debate, is unwilling to afford any explanation as to their meaning and application."

In this answer Mr. Randolph remained upon his original ground of refusing to answer out of the Senate for words spoken within it. In other respects the statement of the words actually spoken greatly ameliorated the offensive report, the coarse and insulting words, "forging and falsifying," being disavowed, as in fact they were not used, and are not to be found in the published report. The speech was a bitter philippic, and intended to be so, taking for its point the alleged coalition between Mr. Clay and Mr. Adams with respect to the election, and their efforts to get up a popular question contrary to our policy of non-entanglement with foreign nations, in sending ministers to the congress of the American states of Spanish origin at the Isthmus of Panama. I heard it all, and, though sharp and cutting, I think it might have been heard, had he been present, without any manifestation of resentment by Mr. Clay. The part which he took so seriously to heart, that of having the Panama invitations manufactured in his office, was to my mind nothing more than attributing to him a diplomatic superiority which enabled him to obtain from the South American ministers the invitations that he wanted; and not at all that they were spurious fabrications. As to the expression, "blackleg and puritan," it was merely a sarcasm to strike by antithesis, and which, being without foundation, might have been disregarded. I presented these views to the parties, and if they had come from Mr. Randolph they might have been sufficient; but he was inexorable, and would not authorize a word to be said beyond what he had written.

All hope of accommodation having vanished, the seconds proceeded to arrange for the duel. The afternoon of Saturday, the 8th of April, was fixed upon for the time; the right bank of the Potomac, within the State of Virginia, above the Little Falls bridge, was the place,—pistols the weapons,—distance ten paces; each party to be attended by two seconds and a surgeon, and myself at liberty to attend as a mutual friend. There was to be no practising with pistols, and there was none; and the words "one," "two," "three," "stop," after the word "fire," were, by agreement between the seconds, and for the humane purpose of reducing the result as near as possible to chance, to be given out in quick succession. The Virginia side of the Potomac was taken at the instance of Mr. Randolph. He went out as a Virginia senator, refusing to compromise that character, and, if he fell in defence of its rights, Virginia soil was to him the chosen ground to receive his blood. There was a statute of the State against duelling within her limits; but, as he merely went out to receive a fire without returning it, he deemed that no fighting, and consequently no breach of her statute. This reason for choosing Virginia could only be explainedto me, as I alone was the depository of his secret.

The week's delay which the seconds had contrived was about expiring. It was Friday evening, or rather night, when I went to see Mr. Clay for the last time before the duel. There had been some alienation between us since the time of the presidential election in the House of Representatives, and I wished to give evidence that there was nothing personal in it. The family were in the parlor—company present—and some of it staid late. The youngest child, I believe James, went to sleep on the sofa—a circumstance which availed me for a purpose the next day. Mrs. Clay was, as always since the death of her daughters, the picture of desolation, but calm, conversable, and without the slightest apparent consciousness of the impending event. When all were gone, and she also had left the parlor, I did what I came for, and said to Mr. Clay, that, notwithstanding our late political differences, my personal feelings towards him were the same as formerly, and that, in whatever concerned his life or honor my best wishes were with him. He expressed his gratification at the visit and the declaration, and said it was what he would have expected of me. We parted at midnight.

Saturday, the 8th of April—the day for the duel—had come, and almost the hour. It was noon, and the meeting was to take place at 41⁄2o'clock. I had gone to see Mr. Randolph before the hour, and for a purpose; and, besides, it was so far on the way, as he lived half way to Georgetown, and we had to pass through that place to cross the Potomac into Virginia at the Little Falls bridge. I had heard nothing from him on the point of not returning the fire since the first communication to that effect, eight days before. I had no reason to doubt the steadiness of his determination, but felt a desire to have fresh assurance of it after so many days' delay, and so near approach of the trying moment. I knew it would not do to ask him the question—any question which would imply a doubt of his word. His sensitive feelings would be hurt and annoyed at it. So I fell upon a scheme to get at the inquiry without seeming to make it. I told him of my visit to Mr. Clay the night before—of the late sitting—the child asleep—the unconscious tranquillity of Mrs. Clay; and added, I could not help reflecting how different all that might be the next night. He understood me perfectly, and immediately said, with a quietude of look and expression which seemed to rebuke an unworthy doubt, "I shall do nothing to disturb the sleep of the child or the repose of the mother," and went on with his employment—(his seconds being engaged in their preparations in a different room)—which was, making codicils to his will, all in the way of remembrance to friends; the bequests slight in value, but invaluable in tenderness of feeling and beauty of expression, and always appropriate to the receiver. To Mr. Macon he gave some English shillings, to keep the game when he played whist. His namesake, John Randolph Bryan, then at school in Baltimore, and since married to his niece, had been sent for to see him, but sent off before the hour for going out, to save the boy from a possible shock at seeing him brought back. He wanted some gold—that coin not being then in circulation, and only to be obtained by favor or purchase—and sent his faithful man, Johnny, to the United States Branch Bank to get a few pieces, American being the kind asked for. Johnny returned without the gold, and delivered the excuse that the bank had none. Instantly Mr. Randolph's clear silver-toned voice was heard above its natural pitch, exclaiming, "Their name is legion! and they are liars from the beginning. Johnny, bring me my horse." His own saddle-horse was brought him—for he never rode Johnny's, nor Johnny his, though both, and all his hundred horses, were of the finest English blood—and rode off to the bank down Pennsylvania avenue, now Corcoran & Riggs's—Johnny following, as always, forty paces behind. Arrived at the bank, this scene, according to my informant, took place:

"Mr. Randolph asked for the state of his account, was shown it, and found to be some four thousand dollars in his favor. He asked for it. The teller took up packages of bills, and civilly asked in what sized notes he would have it. 'I want money,' said Mr. Randolph, putting emphasis on the word; and at that time it required a bold man to intimate that United States Bank notes were not money. The teller, beginning to understand him, and willing to make sure, said, inquiringly, 'You want silver?' 'I want my money!' was the reply. Then the teller, lifting boxes to the counter, said politely: 'Have you a cart, Mr. Randolph, to put it in?' 'That is my business, sir,' said he. By that time the attention of the cashier (Mr. Richard Smith) was attracted to what was going on, who came up, and understanding the question, and its cause, toldMr. Randolph there was a mistake in the answer given to his servant; that they had gold, and he should have what he wanted."

In fact, he had only applied for a few pieces, which he wanted for a special purpose. This brought about a compromise. The pieces of gold were received, the cart and the silver dispensed with; but the account in bank was closed, and a check taken for the amount on New-York. He returned and delivered me a sealed paper, which I was to open if he was killed—give back to him if he was not; also an open slip, which I was to read before I got to the ground. This slip was a request to feel in his left breeches pocket, if he was killed, and find so many pieces of gold—I believe nine—take three for myself, and give the same number to Tatnall and Hamilton each, to make seals to wear in remembrance of him. We were all three at Mr. Randolph's lodgings then, and soon set out, Mr. Randolph and his seconds in a carriage, I following him on horseback.

I have already said that the count was to be quick after giving the word "fire," and for a reason which could not be told to the principals. To Mr. Randolph, who did not mean to fire, and who, though agreeing to be shot at, had no desire to be hit, this rapidity of counting out the time and quick arrival at the command "stop" presented no objection. With Mr. Clay it was different. With him it was all a real transaction, and gave rise to some proposal for more deliberateness in counting off the time; which being communicated to Col. Tatnall, and by him to Mr. Randolph, had an ill effect upon his feelings, and, aided by an untoward accident on the ground, unsettled for a moment the noble determination which he had formed not to fire at Mr. Clay. I now give the words of Gen. Jesup:

"When I repeated to Mr. Clay the 'word' in the manner in which it would be given, he expressed some apprehension that, as he was not accustomed to the use of the pistol, he might not be able to fire within the time, and for that reason alone desired that it might be prolonged. I mentioned to Col. Tatnall the desire of Mr. Clay. He replied, 'If you insist upon it, the time must be prolonged, but I should very much regret it.' I informed him I did not insist upon prolonging the time, and I was sure Mr. Clay would acquiesce. The original agreement was carried out."

I knew nothing of this until it was too late to speak with the seconds or principals. I had crossed the Little Falls bridge just after them, and come to the place where the servants and carriages had stopped. I saw none of the gentlemen, and supposed they had all gone to the spot where the ground was being marked off; but on speaking to Johnny, Mr. Randolph, who was still in his carriage and heard my voice, looked out from the window, and said to me: "Colonel, since I saw you, and since I have been in this carriage, I have heard something whichmaymake me change my determination. Col. Hamilton will give you a note which will explain it." Col. Hamilton was then in the carriage, and gave me the note, in the course of the evening, of which Mr. Randolph spoke. I readily comprehended that this possible change of determination related to his firing; but the emphasis with which he pronounced the word "may" clearly showed that his mind was undecided, and left it doubtful whether he would fire or not. No further conversation took place between us; the preparations for the duel were finished; the parties went to their places; and I went forward to a piece of rising ground, from which I could see what passed and hear what was said. The faithful Johnny followed me close, speaking not a word, but evincing the deepest anxiety for his beloved master. The place was a thick forest, and the immediate spot a little depression, or basin, in which the parties stood. The principals saluted each other courteously as they took their stands. Col. Tatnall had won the choice of position, which gave to Gen. Jesup the delivery of the word. They stood on a line east and west—a small stump just behind Mr. Clay; a low gravelly bank rose just behind Mr. Randolph. This latter asked Gen. Jesup to repeat the word as he would give it; and while in the act of doing so, and Mr. Randolph adjusting the butt of his pistol to his hand, the muzzle pointing downwards, and almost to the ground, it fired. Instantly Mr. Randolph turned to Col. Tatnall and said: "I protested against that hair trigger." Col. Tatnall took blame to himself for having sprung the hair. Mr. Clay had not then received his pistol. Senator Johnson, of Louisiana (Josiah), one of his seconds, was carrying it to him, and still several steps from him. This untimely fire, though clearly an accident, necessarily gave rise to some remarks, and a species of inquiry, which was conducted with the utmost delicacy, but which, in itself, was of a nature to be inexpressiblypainful to a gentleman's feelings. Mr. Clay stopped it with the generous remark that the fire was clearly an accident: and it was so unanimously declared. Another pistol was immediately furnished; and exchange of shots took place, and, happily, without effect upon the persons. Mr. Randolph's bullet struck the stump behind Mr. Clay, and Mr. Clay's knocked up the earth and gravel behind Mr. Randolph, and in a line with the level of his hips, both bullets having gone so true and close that it was a marvel how they missed. The moment had come for me to interpose. I went in among the parties and offered my mediation; but nothing could be done. Mr. Clay said, with that wave of the hand with which he was accustomed to put away a trifle, "This is child's play!" and required another fire. Mr. Randolph also demanded another fire. The seconds were directed to reload. While this was doing I prevailed on Mr. Randolph to walk away from his post, and renewed to him, more pressingly than ever, my importunities to yield to some accommodation; but I found him more determined than I had ever seen him, and for the first time impatient, and seemingly annoyed and dissatisfied at what I was doing. He was indeed annoyed and dissatisfied. The accidental fire of his pistol preyed upon his feelings. He was doubly chagrined at it, both as a circumstance susceptible in itself of an unfair interpretation, and as having been the immediate and controlling cause of his firing at Mr. Clay. He regretted this fire the instant it was over. He felt that it had subjected him to imputations from which he knew himself to be free—a desire to kill Mr. Clay, and a contempt for the laws of his beloved State; and the annoyances which he felt at these vexatious circumstances revived his original determination, and decided him irrevocably to carry it out.

It was in this interval that he told me what he had heard since we parted, and to which he alluded when he spoke to me from the window of the carriage. It was to this effect: That he had been informed by Col. Tatnall that it was proposed to give out the words with more deliberateness, so as to prolong the time for taking aim. This information grated harshly upon his feelings. It unsettled his purpose, and brought his mind to the inquiry (as he now told me, and as I found it expressed in the note which he had immediately written in pencil to apprise me of his possible change), whether, under these circumstances, he might not "disable" his adversary? This note is so characteristic, and such an essential part of this affair, that I here give its very words, so far as relates to this point. It ran thus:

"Information received from Col. Tatnall since I got into the carriagemayinduce me to change my mind, of not returning Mr. Clay's fire. I seek not his death. I would not have his blood upon my hands—it will not be upon my soul if shed in self-defence—for the world. He has determined, by the use of a long, preparatory caution by words, to get time to kill me. May I not, then, disable him? Yes, if I please."

It has been seen, by the statement of Gen. Jesup, already given, that this "information" was a misapprehension; that Mr. Clay had not applied for a prolongation of time for the purpose of getting sure aim, but only to enable his unused hand, long unfamiliar with the pistol, to fire within the limited time; that there was no prolongation, in fact, either granted or insisted upon; but he was in doubt, and General Jesup having won the word, he was having him repeat it in the way he was to give it out, when his finger touched the hair-trigger. How unfortunate that I did not know of this in time to speak to General Jesup, when one word from him would have set all right, and saved the imminent risks incurred! This inquiry, "May I not disable him?" was still on Mr. Randolph's mind, and dependent for its solution on the rising incidents of the moment, when the accidental fire of his pistol gave the turn to his feelings which solved the doubt. But he declared to me that he had not aimed at the life of Mr. Clay; that he did not level as high as the knees—not higher than the knee-band; "for it was no mercy to shoot a man in the knee;" that his only object was to disable him and spoil his aim. And then added, with a beauty of expression and a depth of feeling which no studied oratory can ever attain, and which I shall never forget, these impressive words: "I would not have seen him fall mortally, or even doubtfully wounded, for all the land that is watered by the King of Floods and all his tributary streams." He left me to resume his post, utterly refusing to explain out of the Senate any thing that he had said in it, and with the positive declaration that he would not return the next fire. I withdrew a little way into the woods, and kept my eyes fixed on Mr. Randolph, who I then knewto be the only one in danger. I saw him receive the fire of Mr. Clay, saw the gravel knocked up in the same place, saw Mr. Randolph raise his pistol—discharge it in the air; heard him say, 'I do not fire at you, Mr. Clay;' and immediately advancing and offering his hand. He was met in the same spirit. They met half way, shook hands, Mr. Randolph saying, jocosely, 'You owe me a coat, Mr. Clay'—(the bullet had passed through the skirt of the coat, very near the hip)—to which Mr. Clay promptly and happily replied, 'I am glad the debt is no greater.' I had come up, and was prompt to proclaim what I had been obliged to keep secret for eight days. The joy of all was extreme at this happy termination of a most critical affair; and we immediately left, with lighter hearts than we brought. I stopped to sup with Mr. Randolph and his friends—none of us wanted dinner that day—and had a characteristic time of it. A runner came in from the bank to say that they had overpaid him, by mistake, $130 that day. He answered, 'I believeit is your rule not to correct mistakes, except at the time, and at your counter.' And with that answer the runner had to return. When gone, Mr. Randolph said, 'I will pay it on Monday: people must be honest, if banks are not.' He asked for the sealed paper he had given me, opened it, took out a check for $1,000, drawn in my favor, and with which I was requested to have him carried, if killed, to Virginia, and buried under his patrimonial oaks—not let him be buried at Washington, with an hundred hacks after him. He took the gold from his left breeches pocket, and said to us (Hamilton, Tatnall, and I), 'Gentlemen, Clay's bad shooting shan't rob you of your seals. I am going to London, and will have them made for you;' which he did, and most characteristically, so far as mine was concerned. He went to the herald's office in London and inquired for the Benton family, of which I had often told him there was none, as we only dated on that side from my grandfather in North Carolina. But the name was found, and with it a coat of arms—among the quarterings a lion rampant. That is the family, said he; and had the arms engraved on the seal, the same which I have since habitually worn; and added the motto,Factis non verbis: of which he was afterwards accustomed to say the non should be changed into et. But, enough. I run into these details, not merely to relate an event, but to show character; and if I have not done it, it is not for want of material, but of ability to use it.

On Monday the parties exchanged cards, and social relations were formally and courteously restored. It was about the last high-toned duel that I have witnessed, and among the highest-toned that I have ever witnessed, and so happily conducted to a fortunate issue—a result due to the noble character of the seconds as well as to the generous and heroic spirit of the principals. Certainly duelling is bad, and has been put down, but not quite so bad as its substitute—revolvers, bowie-knives, blackguarding, and street-assassinations under the pretext of self-defence.

He was a senator from South Carolina, and had been continuously, from the year 1804. He was five times elected to the Senate—the first time for an unexpired term—and died in the course of a term; so that the years for which he had been elected were nearly thirty. He was nine times elected president of the Senatepro tempore, and presided fourteen years over the deliberations of that body,—the deaths of two Vice-Presidents during his time (Messrs. Clinton and Gerry), and the much absence of another (Gov. Tompkins), making long continued vacancies in the President's chair,—which he was called to fill. So many elections, and such long continued service, terminated at last only by death, bespeaks an eminent fitness both for the place of Senator, and that of presiding officer over the Senate. In the language of Mr. Macon, he seemed born for that station. Urbane in his manners, amiable in temper, scrupulously impartial, attentive to his duties, exemplary patience, perfect knowledge of the rules, quick and clear discernment, uniting absolute firmness of purpose, with the greatest gentleness of manners, setting young Senators right with a delicacy and amenity, which spared the confusion of a mistake—preserving order, not by authority of rules, but by the graces of deportment: such were the qualifications which commended him to the presidency of the Senate,and which facilitated the transaction of business while preserving the decorum of the body. There was probably not an instance of disorder, or a disagreeable scene in the chamber, during his long continued presidency. He classed democratically in politics, but was as much the favorite of one side of the house as of the other, and that in the high party times of the war with Great Britain, which so much exasperated party spirit.

Mr. Gaillard was, as his name would indicate, of French descent, having issued from one of those Huguenot families, of which the bigotry of Louis XIV., dominated by an old woman, deprived France, for the benefit of other countries.

The attempt was renewed at the session of 1825-'26 to procure an amendment to the constitution, in relation to the election of the two first magistrates of the republic, so as to do away with all intermediate agencies, and give the election to the direct vote of the people. Several specific propositions were offered in the Senate to that effect, and all substituted by a general proposition submitted by Mr. Macon—"that a select committee be appointed to report upon the best and most practicable mode of electing the President and Vice-President:" and, on the motion of Mr. Van Buren, the number of the committee was raised to nine—instead of five—the usual number. The members of it were appointed by Mr. Calhoun, the Vice-President, and were carefully selected, both geographically as coming from different sections of the Union, and personally and politically as being friendly to the object and known to the country. They were: Mr. Benton, chairman, Mr. Macon, Mr. Van Buren, Mr. Hugh L. White of Tennessee, Mr. Findlay of Pennsylvania, Mr. Dickerson of New Jersey, Mr. Holmes of Maine, Mr. Hayne of South Carolina, and Col. Richard M. Johnson of Kentucky. The committee agreed upon a proposition of amendment, dispensing with electors, providing for districts in which the direct vote of the people was to be taken; and obviating all excuse for caucuses and conventions to concentrate public opinion by proposing a second election between the two highest in the event of no one receiving a majority of the whole number of district votes in the first election. The plan reported was in these words:

"That, hereafter the President and Vice-President of the United States shall be chosen by the People of the respective States, in the manner following: Each State shall be divided by the legislature thereof, into districts, equal in number to the whole number of senators and representatives, to which such State may be entitled in the Congress of the United States; the said districts to be composed of contiguous territory, and to contain, as nearly as may be, an equal number of persons, entitled to be represented, under the constitution, and to be laid off, for the first time, immediately after the ratification of this amendment, and afterwards at the session of the legislature next ensuing the appointment of representatives, by the Congress of the United States; or oftener, if deemed necessary by the State; but no alteration, after the first, or after each decennial formation of districts, shall take effect, at the next ensuing election, after such alteration is made. That, on the first Thursday, and succeeding Friday, in the month of August, of the year one thousand eight hundred and twenty-eight, and on the same days in every fourth year thereafter, the citizens of each State, who possess the qualifications requisite for electors of the most numerous branch of the State Legislature, shall meet within their respective districts, and vote for a President and Vice-President of the United States, one of whom, at least, shall not be an inhabitant of the same State with himself: and the person receiving the greatest number of votes for President, and the one receiving the greatest number of votes for Vice-President in each district shall be holden to have received one vote: which fact shall be immediately certified to the Governor of the State, to each of the senators in Congress from such State, and to the President of the Senate. The right of affixing the places in the districts at which the elections shall be held, the manner of holding the same, and of canvassing the votes, and certifying the returns, is reserved, exclusively, to the legislatures of the States. The Congress of the United States shall be in session on the second Monday of October, in the year one thousand eight hundred and twenty-eight, and on the same day in every fourth year thereafter: and the President of the Senate, in the presence of the Senate and House of Representatives, shall open all the certificates, and the votes shall then be counted. The person having the greatest number of votes for President, shall be President, if such number be equal to a majority of the whole number of votes given; but if no personhave such majority, then a second election shall be held, on the first Thursday and succeeding Friday, in the month of December, then next ensuing, between the persons having the two highest numbers, for the office of President: which second election shall be conducted, the result certified, and the votes counted, in the same manner as in the first; and the person having the greatest number of votes for President, shall be the President. But, if two or more persons shall have received the greatest and equal number of votes, at the second election, the House of Representatives shall choose one of them for President, as is now prescribed by the constitution. The person having the greatest number of votes for Vice-President, at the first election, shall be the Vice-President, if such number be equal to a majority of the whole number of votes given, and, if no person have such majority, then a second election shall take place, between the persons having the two highest numbers, on the same day that the second election is held for President, and the person having the highest number of votes for Vice-President, shall be the Vice-President. But if two or more persons shall have received the greatest number of votes in the second election, then the Senate shall choose one of them for Vice-President, as is now provided in the constitution. But, when a second election shall be necessary, in the case of Vice-President, and not necessary in the case of President, then the Senate shall choose a Vice-President, from the persons having the two highest numbers in the first election, as is now prescribed in the constitution."

The prominent features of this plan of election are: 1. The abolition of electors, and the direct vote of the people; 2. A second election between the two highest on each list, when no one has a majority of the whole; 3. Uniformity in the mode of election.—The advantages of this plan would be to get rid of all the machinery by which theselectionof their two first magistrates is now taken out of the hands of the people, and usurped by self-constituted, illegal, and irresponsible bodies,—and place it in the only safe, proper, and disinterested hands—those of the people themselves. If adopted, there would be no pretext for caucuses or conventions, and no resort to the House of Representatives,—where the largest State is balanced by the smallest. If any one received a majority of the whole number of districts in the first election, then the democratic principle—thedemos krateo—the majority to govern—is satisfied. If no one receives such majority, then the first election stands for a popular nomination of the two highest—a nomination by the people themselves—out of which two the election is sure to be made on the second trial. But to provide for a possible contingency—too improbable almost ever to occur—and to save in that case the trouble of a third popular election, a resort to the House of Representatives is allowed; it beingnationallyunimportant which is elected where the candidates were exactly equal in the public estimation.—Such was the plan the committee reported; and it is the perfect plan of a popular election, and has the advantage of being applicable to all elections, federal and State, from the highest to the lowest. The machinery of its operation is easy and simple, and it is recommended by every consideration of public good, which requires the abandonment of a defective system, which has failed—the overthrow of usurping bodies, which have seized upon the elections—and the preservation to the people of the business of selecting, as well as electing, their own high officers. The plan was unanimously recommended by the whole committee, composed as it was of experienced men taken from every section of the Union. But it did not receive the requisite support of two-thirds of the Senate to carry it through that body; and a similar plan proposed in the House of Representatives received the same fate there—reported by a committee, and unsustained by two-thirds of the House: and such, there is too much reason to apprehend, may be the fate of future similar propositions, originating in Congress, without the powerful impulsion of the people to urge them through. Select bodies are not the places for popular reforms. These reforms are for the benefit of the people, and should begin with the people; and the constitution itself, sensible of that necessity in this very case, has very wisely made provision for the popular initiative of constitutional amendments. The fifth article of that instrument gives the power of beginning the reform of itself to the States, in their legislatures, as well as to the federal government in its Congress: and there is the place to begin, and before the people themselves in their elections to the general assembly. And there should be no despair on account of the failures already suffered. No great reform is carried suddenly. It requires years of persevering exertion to produce the unanimity of opinion which is necessary to a great popular reformation: but because it is difficult, it is not impossible. The greatest reform ever effected by peaceful meansin the history of any government was that of the parliamentary reform of Great Britain, by which the rotten boroughs were disfranchised, populous towns admitted to representation, the elective franchise extended, the House of Commons purified, and made the predominant branch—the master branch of the British government. And how was that great reform effected? By a few desultory exertions in the parliament itself? No, but by forty years of continued exertion, and by incessant appeals to the people themselves. The society for parliamentary reform, founded in 1792, by Earl Grey and Major Cartwright, succeeded in its efforts in 1832; and in their success there is matter for encouragement, as in their conduct there is an example for imitation. They carried the question to the people, and kept it there forty years, and saw it triumph—the two patriotic founders of the society living to see the consummation of their labors, and the country in the enjoyment of the inestimable advantage of a "Reformed Parliament."

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