END AND RESULTS OF THE EXTRA SESSION.

This extraordinary session, called by President Harrison, held under Mr. Tyler, dominated by Mr. Clay, was commenced on the 31st of May and ended the 13th of September: seventy-five days' session—and replete with disappointed calculations, and nearly barren of permanent results. The whigs expected from it an easy and victorious course of legislation, and the consolidation of their power by the inauguration of their cherished measures for acting on the people—national bank—paper money national currency—union of bank and state—distribution of public money—bankrupt act—monopoly of office. The democracy saw no means of preventing these measures; but relied upon the goodness of their cause, the badness of the measures to be adopted by the whigs, and the blunders they would commit, to give them eventual victory, and soon to restore parties to their usual relative positions. The defection of Mr. Tyler was not foreseen: his veto of a national bank was not counted upon: the establishment of that institution was considered certain: and the only remedy thought of was in the repeal of the law establishing it. As a public political corporation, that repealability came within the decision of the Supreme Court of the United States in the Dartmouth College case; and being established for the good of the state, it became amenable to the judgment of the State upon the question of good, or evil—to be decided by the political power. Repealability was then the reliance against a national bank; and that ground was immediately taken, and systematically urged—both for the purpose of familiarizing the people with the idea of repeal, and of deterring capitalists from taking its stock. The true service that Mr. Tyler did the democratic party was in rejecting the bank charters (for such they both were, though disguised with ridiculous names). Numerically he weakened the whig ranks but little: potentially not at all—as those who joined him, took office: and became both useless to him, and a reproach. That beau ideal, of a whig unity—"whig President, whig Congress, and whig people"—which Mr. Webster and Mr. Cushing were to realize, vanished: and they with it—leaving Mr. Tyler without whig, and without democratic adherents; but with a small party of his own as long as he was in a condition to dispense office. The legislation of the session was a wreck. The measures passed, had no duration. The bankrupt act, and the distribution act, were repealed by the same Congress that passed them—under the demand of the people. The new tariff act, called revenue—was changed within a year. The sub-treasury system, believed to have been put to death, came to life again. Gold and silver, intended to have been ignored as a national currency, had become that currency—both for the national coffers, and the people's pockets. Of all the measures of that extraordinary session, opening with so much hope, nothing now remains to recall the idea of its existence, but, first—The Home Squadron! keeping idle watch on our safe coasts, at the cost of a million per annum. Next, The Ocean Line Steamers! plundering the country of two millions annually, oppressing fair competition and damaging the character of Congress. And last, not least, That One Hour Rule! which has silenced the representatives of the people in the House of Representatives, reduced the national legislation to blind dictation, suppressed opposition to evil measures, and deprived the people of the means of knowing the evil that Congress is doing.

To the democracy it was a triumphant session—triumphant in every thing that constitutes moral and durable triumph. They had broken down the whig party before the session was over—crushed it upon its own measures; and were ready for the elections which were to reverse the party positions. The Senate had done it. The House, oppressed by the hour rule, and the tyrannical abuse of the previous question, had been able to make but little show. The two-and-twenty in the Senate did the work; and never did I see a body of men more effective or brilliant—show a higher spirit or a more determined persistence. To name the speakers, would be to enumerate all—except Mr. Mouton, who not having the English language perfect was limited to his vote—always in place, and always faithful. The Globe newspaper was a powerful assistant, both as an ally working in its own columns, and as a vehicle of communication for our daily debates. Before the session was over we felt ourselves victorious, and only waiting for the day when the elections were to show it. Of all our successes, that of keeping the hour rule, and the previous question out of the American Senate, was the most brilliant, and durably beneficent—rising above party—entering the high region of free government—preserving the liberty of speech—preserving to republican government its distinctive and vital feature, that of free debate; and saving national legislation from unresisted party dictation.


[CHAPTER LXXXIX.]