LETTER FROM CHIEF JUSTICE MARSHALL TO MURPHY.
Richmond, October 6, 1827.
Dear Sir:—Your oration, delivered in Person Hall, Chapel Hill, reached this place during a visit I had made to our mountain country. It was taken out of the post-office and placed on a general table, among a number of papers and pamphlets received during my absence, and was not perceived till to-day. I mention this circumstance as an apology for having permitted so much time to elapse without making any acknowledgments for the gratification derived from its perusal.
I take a great deal of interest in your portraits of the eminent men of North Carolina, who have now passed away from the theatre of action. It was my happiness to be acquainted with those of whom you speak as being known to yourself, and I feel the justness of the eulogies you have bestowed upon them. I never heard Mr. Davie nor Mr. Moore at the bar, but the impressions they both made upon me in private circles were extremely favorable, and I think you have given to the character of each its true coloring. Neither have I ever heard Mr. Stanly, but I have known him also in private, and it was not possible to be in his company without noticing and being struck with his general talent, and most especially his vivacity, his wit, and his promptness. He appeared to be eminently endowed with a ready elocution, and almost intuitive perception of the subjects of discussion. With Mr. Haywood and Mr. Henderson I was well acquainted, and have heard them often at the bar. They were unquestionably among the ablest lawyers of their day. I saw not much of Mr. Duffy as a professional man, but thought him a pleasing, agreeable gentleman. You omitted one name which ranks, I think, among the considerable men of your State. It is that of the late Judge Iredell. I was well acquainted with him too, and always thought him a man of real talent.
In the rapid sketch you have taken of the colonial government, some circumstances excite a good deal of surprise. The persecuting spirit of the High-church party was still more vindictive than I had supposed, and the principle of limiting your laws to two years was, I believe, peculiar to Carolina. The scarcity of books, too, which seems to have prevailed ever since the Revolution, is a very remarkable fact. Although I concur perfectly in the opinion you express that much more advantage is to be derived from the frequent and attentive perusal of a few valuable books, than from indiscriminate and multifarious reading—that cramming injures digestion—yet, some books are necessary, not only for ornament, but for use.
Allow me to thank you for the pleasure I have received from the perusal of your oration, for I must suppose that I am indebted to yourself for this mark of polite attention, and to express my particular acknowledgments for the flattering notice you have taken of the Life of George Washington. That work was hurried into the world with too much precipitation, but I have lately given it a careful examination and correction. Should another edition appear it will be less fatiguing and more worthy of the character which the biographer of Washington ought to sustain.
With very great respect and esteem, I am, sir,
Your obedient servant,
J. MARSHALL.
The Hon. Archibald D. Murphy,
Haw River, North Carolina.
WILLIAM GASTON.
[WILLIAM GASTON.]
BY WM. H. BATTLE.
William Gaston, late one of the Judges of the Supreme Court of North Carolina, was born in the town of New Bern on the 19th day of September, A. D. 1778. His paternal ancestors were distinguished French Huguenots, who were driven from their country by the revocation of the famous edict of Nantes, and retired to Ballymore, in Ireland, where they settled, and where Alexander Gaston, the father of the Judge, was born. Alexander, having chosen the profession of medicine and obtained his diploma at the medical college of Edinburgh, entered the British navy as a surgeon. After remaining a few years in this service, he resigned his commission and came to New Bern in this State, where he settled and commenced the regular practice of his profession. In the year 1775 he married Margaret Sharpe, an English lady of the Roman Catholic faith, by whom he had two sons and a daughter, of whom the Judge was the second son. The elder brother died young; and before the subject of this sketch was three years of age he lost his father in a manner deeply tragical. He was shot by a band of Tories, who, in the year 1781, surprised the town of New Bern, and singled out the doctor, who was an ardent and active Whig, as an especial object of their vengeance. It is said that the fatal instrument of death was fired over the head of the agonized wife, while she was imploring, as only a woman can implore, the life of her husband. The Judge was then doubtless too young to appreciate all the horrors of the scene, but that it made a deep impression upon him in subsequent life we are well assured. Many years afterwards, while he was a member of Congress, upon being charged, in an exciting party debate, with a want of proper American feeling, he indignantly repelled the imputation by the eloquent exclamation, "I was baptized an American in the blood of a murdered father." That same incident was alluded to with thrilling effect in the convention called to amend the Constitution in 1835 by the distinguished and venerable president of that body. The death of his father threw upon his mother the entire care and responsibility of rearing and educating her infant children. Her situation was peculiarly beset with difficulties. The death of two brothers, with whom she had come to this country, followed by the loss of her husband, left her without any other relatives in America than her two children. But happily for them, she was a woman of great energy of character, of singular prudence, and of devoted piety. It immediately became a leading object of her life to train up her son to usefulness and honor. We may be well assured from its results, that her course of discipline was eminently judicious. Indeed, the Judge has been heard to declare that whatever success and distinction he had attained in life he owed to her counsels and her admirable management, and that but for her he might have been a vagabond. He was first sent to school in his native town, and while there he was represented as having been "very quick, and apt to learn; of an affectionate temper, and yet volatile and irritable. His mother used every means to correct his infirmities of disposition, and to give an aim to his pursuits—sometimes employing kindness, or mild but solemn admonition, and occasionally still stricter discipline." She kept him under her own immediate supervision and control until the fall of the year 1791, when she sent him to the Roman Catholic college at Georgetown. After remaining at this institution about eighteen months, his failing health compelled him to return home. Soon afterwards his health was reestablished, and he resumed his studies under the tuition of the Rev. Thomas P. Irving, who then had charge of the academy at New Bern. Here he was prepared for admission into the junior class of Princeton College, which he entered in the fall of 1794; and in 1796 was graduated, at the early age of eighteen, with the first honors of the institution.
After completing his collegiate course he selected the law as his profession, and immediately commenced his studies in the office of François Xavier Martin, then a practicing lawyer in this State, but now a Judge of the Supreme Court of the State of Louisiana. The same diligent attention to the studies of his profession, which had distinguished his career in college, enabled him to obtain admittance to the bar in the year 1798. In that same year the late Chief Justice Taylor, who had married his sister, was elevated to the bench and gave all his business to his young friend and relative, which put him at once into full practice. This sudden accumulation of business, which would have operated to the disadvantage of a mind less active and cultivated, served only to call forth all his energies, by the necessity it occasioned of a thorough preparation to meet the great responsibility thrown upon him. He very soon acquired distinction in his profession, which steadily increased until he attained, by universal acknowledgment, the proud eminence of being at the head of the bar of this State—a pre-eminence which he never lost until he was raised by his admiring countrymen to a still more exalted station. But while he was thus pursuing, with rare success, the profits and honors of his profession, he never for a moment lost sight of the interests of his country. The very next year after he reached the age of manhood he was elected a member of the State Senate from his native county of Craven; and in 1808 he was elected a member of the House of Commons, and was chosen to preside over its deliberations. The same year he was nominated by the Federal party, to which he was attached, as Presidential Elector for the district in which he resided. The reputation which he had acquired at the bar and in the legislative halls of the State for integrity, patriotism and distinguished ability procured his election in 1813, and again in 1815, to the House of Representatives in the Congress of the United States. Of the elevated stand which he took in that body it is needless for me here to speak. It is a part of the history of the country, that amidst the brilliant constellation of statesmen then seen in the councils of the American nation—a constellation illustrated by the genius and eloquence of a Lowndes, a Randolph, a Calhoun, a Webster, and a Clay, the star of Gaston was far from being the least brilliant. The admirer of parliamentary oratory will find in his speeches upon the Loan Bill and the previous question some of the finest displays of reasoning and eloquence which our country has produced.
In 1817, Judge Gaston voluntarily retired from Congress, and never returned to the national councils. The residue of his days he devoted to the duties of domestic and professional life, and to the service of his native State. He was frequently chosen, sometimes by the freemen of the county of Craven, and sometimes by those of the town of New Bern, to represent them in the General Assembly. Of the value of his services in this more limited, but still very important sphere of usefulness, it is difficult to speak in adequate terms without the appearance of exaggeration. I have not the materials, if I had the time and opportunity, for stating in detail all the measures which he accomplished, or assisted in accomplishing, for the good of the State. I can point only to a few monuments in the course of our legislative history, to show that the hand of a master-workman has been there. In the year 1808 he drew up the "Act regulating the descent of inheritances," which, with scarcely any alteration or addition, remains the law on that subject to this day. In 1818 he was mainly instrumental in the establishment of our present Supreme Court system; and in 1828 all his varied powers of eloquence and argumentation were exerted to their utmost to prevent the success of a measure in relation to the banks, which would have spread ruin and dismay throughout the length and breadth of our State. His last appearance in the Legislature was as a member of the House of Commons in 1831 when he made a splendid effort, but all in vain, in favor of rebuilding the capitol, which had been destroyed by fire the preceding summer.
In the summer of 1833 a vacancy upon the bench of the Supreme Court occurred by the death of Chief Justice Henderson. From various causes, of which I know too little to attempt an explanation, the Supreme Court had at that time by no means so strong a hold upon the confidence of the people as it has since obtained. It was very desirable, therefore, on the part of the friends of the system to fill the vacancy by a man of commanding talents and great influence, in order to give it strength. All eyes were at once turned towards Judge Gaston. But there were supposed to be two very serious obstacles to his acceptance of the office. It was known that his practice at the bar was extensive and very lucrative, and it was also known that a prudent regard to his private affairs would dictate that his professional income should not be exchanged for a judge's salary. It was also believed by many that the thirty-second article of our State Constitution forbade his accepting the office, in that clause which declared that "no person who shall deny the truth of the Protestant religion shall be capable of holding any office or place of trust or profit, in the civil department, within this State." The friends of the Judge nevertheless urged him to become a candidate for the office. After a full and fair explanation of the latter and most important objection, he became satisfied that it was not tenable; and as to the former, that his duty to his country required him to make the sacrifice. His name was accordingly brought before the Legislature in the winter of 1833, and he was elected by a large majority on the first ballot. At the ensuing term of the Court he took his seat upon the bench, and from that time until the very day of his death he continued to discharge the duties of his office with an ability and devotion seldom equaled and never surpassed. When a Convention of the people of the State was called in 1835, to amend the Constitution, he took a seat in it as one of the members from the county of Craven. Of the manner in which he performed the peculiarly delicate and important duties of assisting to revise and amend our fundamental law, I know it is needless for me to speak in this presence. The distinguished President of this Institution, who was then Governor of the State and a member of the Convention, can tell the extent of his labors and the value of his services in that body. Suffice it for me to say that he was placed on almost every important committee; that he took a leading part in every important debate; that he, in a great measure, guided and directed the whole business of the Convention. And when its labors were at last brought to a successful conclusion, it was from his hand that the amendments to the Constitution received the form and dress in which they now appear. Excepting his judicial duties, this was the last public service in which he was engaged. It is true that when our Senators in Congress resigned in 1840, the Whig party, which had then the ascendency in the Legislature, tendered him the nomination for one of the vacancies; but he declined it, preferring to remain on the bench, where he thought he could do the State better service. Nor need we regret his determination; for though none could have represented the State in the Senate with more dignity, fidelity, and ability, yet his profound legal attainments, his extensive and varied information, his severe and patient habits of thought, and a style of composition at once dignified and elegant, so admirably fitted him for the high tribunal on which he was placed that we could not have wished to see him transferred to any other station, however exalted. But it is needless for me to enlarge upon his judicial fitness and ability. The Chief Justice of the Court, the associate of his labors and his duties, himself one of the ablest judges and most profound lawyers of his day, has emphatically pronounced from the judgment-seat that he was a "great judge." In confirmation of this sentence, if it needed confirmation, I would refer to all his reported judicial opinions; and particularly to the opinion of the Court as delivered by him in the case of the State vs. Will, 1 Dev. and Bat. Rep., 121; and his dissenting opinion in the State vs. Miller, ibid., 500; the latter of which has been pronounced by a very competent judge one of the finest judicial arguments to be found in this country.
I have said that Judge Gaston continued in the faithful discharge of his official duties until the very day of his death. This is literally true. On Tuesday, the 23d of January past, not quite a fortnight ago, he took his seat in the Court as usual, though he had felt for several days a sensation of chilliness and a difficulty of breathing. He remained on the bench until about two o'clock P. M., giving strict attention to a case then under discussion, when he was attacked with faintness and other symptoms of violent sickness. He was taken to his room and a physician called in, who very soon relieved him. He revived, became cheerful and engaged in an interesting conversation with some of his friends who had called to see him. In the course of the evening he told several anecdotes, at which they laughed heartily. "He then related" (says a published account) "the particulars of a convivial party at Washington City, many years ago, and spoke of one who, on that occasion, avowed himself a freethinker in religion. 'From that day,' said Judge Gaston, 'I always looked on that man with distrust. I do not say that a freethinker may not be an honorable man; that he may not, from high motives, scorn to do a mean act; but I dare not trust him. A belief in an All-ruling Divinity, who shapes our ends, whose eye is upon us, and who will reward us according to our deeds, is necessary. We must believe and feel that there is a God—All wise and Almighty." As he was pronouncing the last word, he rose to give it greater emphasis. The moment after there was a sudden rush of blood to the brain, when he immediately fell back and expired.
In reviewing the life of this eminent man, which has been thus hastily and imperfectly sketched, we see that though left an orphan in earliest infancy in a country where he had no kindred, save a widowed mother and an infant sister, though professing a religious faith almost proscribed, and attached to a political party always in the minority, he yet rose to the highest summit of professional distinction, acquired, during a brief career in the Legislature of his State, a preponderating influence in its councils, was among the foremost of the great in the national assembly, was selected by almost general acclamation to preside in the highest judicial tribunal known to our law, and, more than all, won and maintained to the day of his death, the confidence, the admiration, and the affection of his countrymen. It is interesting, and it must be profitable to all, particularly to you, young gentlemen, who are just entering upon the career of life, to inquire what were the qualities and what the talents which enabled their possessor, under such circumstances, to achieve such great results. In the very outset of his life, we discover one trait to which much, if not all, of his success was owing—his love and veneration for his mother.
An early attention to all his duties, and a desire to excel in everything useful, was another distinctive trait in the character of Judge Gaston. We discover this in the rapid progress made in his studies and the distinction which he acquired at college. I am aware that college honors are often decried, at least by those who never obtained them, and that it has been frequently said that they afford no presage of excellence in after-life. I beg leave to dissent from that opinion. Judge Gaston himself thought far otherwise. Long after he had left the walls of his alma mater, when his mind was enlarged by observation and corrected by experience, he expressed himself in an address to the young men who then occupied the seats now filled by you in the following glowing words: "True it is that it sometimes, though very rarely, happens that those who have been idle during their academical course have by extraordinary exertions retrieved their early neglect and in the end outstripped others who started in the race far ahead. These are exceptions—they furnish cause to humble arrogance, check presumption, banish despair and encourage reformation. But as surely as a virtuous life usually precedes a happy death so surely will it be found that within the college precincts is laid the groundwork of that pre-eminence afterwards acquired in the strife of men; and that college distinctions are not only good testimony of the fidelity with which college duties have been performed, but the best presages and pledges of excellence on a more extended and elevated field of action."
A faithful and fearless discharge of whatever he found to do in the path of duty was another prominent trait in the character of the Judge. He never asked what interest or policy might dictate, but what truth and justice required; and the latter he resolutely performed, "uncaring consequences." I might mention many instances of his braving popular prejudices, and incurring for a time popular odium, in doing what an enlightened conscience told him he ought to do. A memorable instance is presented in his appearing as counsel for Lord Granville in the famous suits which he instituted in this State after the Revolutionary war. A course, which all would now acknowledge to be right, then very sensibly affected his popularity for many years. He was at that time a young man, and it required no little of the force of conscious rectitude to enable him to stem the torrent of prejudice which ran so strong against him.
Another eminent quality which illustrated the whole life of Judge Gaston was the constant love of order and a devoted and almost sacred regard for the Constitution and laws of his country. In all his precepts, wheresoever and to whomsoever uttered, in all his conduct, whether in public or in private, he inculcated and enforced obedience to the law, observance of order, and the support and maintenance of our fundamental institutions in all their integrity. His views and opinions upon this subject are expressed in an address which he delivered at Princeton in September, 1835, before the "American Whig" and "Cliosophic" Societies of the College of New Jersey. It is difficult to find anywhere, within the same compass, the duties of an American citizen, in relation to the laws and institutions of his country, so clearly expressed and so powerfully enforced. The address was much admired at the time, and received on two occasions a compliment of which any man might be justly proud. In a charge to the grand jury of his Court, Chief Justice Cranch, of the District of Columbia, read several pages from the address, accompanied by remarks of the highest commendation. And shortly afterwards, Governor Vance, of Ohio, on an occasion so solemn as his inauguration, quoted largely from it, after speaking in the most flattering terms of the author, as one of the most eminent statesmen and profound jurists of our country.
If the qualities which we have considered excite our admiration and command our respect, that to which I would now call your attention is well calculated to inspire love and win affection. I mean his kind regard for the young. To them he was ever accessible, kind and communicative; always ready to give advice, or to impart instruction. Among them it was his delight to unbend, after the severity of his official labors, and to engage in their innocent amusements. Often have I seen him in such moments of relaxation; and as I saw, I could but admire and love a wisdom which, while it could instruct senates, disdained not the sports of the young, nor even the frolics of infancy; which, while it could one moment expound the gravest of laws, could the moment after explain an apothegm for the instruction of youth, or solve a riddle for the amusement of childhood. His regard for the young extended from the earliest to the latest period of that time of life. For those just approaching the verge of manhood he has often given signal proofs of his solicitude. In 1832 he was invited to deliver an address before the two Literary Societies of this institution, and in 1835 he received an invitation to perform a similar duty before the Societies of Princeton College in New Jersey. In both instances, though at much personal inconvenience, he complied with the request, and delivered the addresses to which I have had occasion to allude. On the merit of these productions the public has already decided. It remains only for me to say that no young man can read them, as they ought to be read, with care and attention, without profit and advantage; and the best return I can make for your kindness to me on this occasion is to advise each of you to procure copies of them, and to "attend to their admonitions, treasure up their counsels and obey their injunctions."
From what I have already said, you have doubtless anticipated my account of the character of Judge Gaston in private and domestic life. A kind master, a fond father, a true friend, a most amusing and instructive companion, he made the social intercourse of life a source at once of pleasure and profit. None could make the grave remark, none could tell the laughable anecdote, better than he. An evening spent among his friends always left them in doubt whether to admire most the extent of his information, the depth of his erudition, the variety of his powers, or the easy, cheerful, instructive flow of his conversation.
It can hardly be necessary for me to say that Judge Gaston was always a zealous and enlightened friend to the cause of education. His great services to the University as a guardian and benefactor for more than forty years have been very justly and appropriately acknowledged in the resolutions recently adopted. He was appointed a trustee of the University in the year 1802, and was at the time of his death, with the exception of Judge Potter, the oldest member of the board.
The crowning glory of Judge Gaston's character remains yet to be spoken of. He was a firm believer in the superintending Providence of an All-wise and an Almighty Being, and in the truths of Revelation. The principles of the Christian religion were deeply impressed upon his infant mind by the devoted piety of his excellent mother; and they were never forgotten and never departed from. An abiding faith in them was a staff to his hand and a lamp to his feet. It sustained, guided, and animated him through life, and in the hour of death it did not desert him. The last sentence he uttered recognized its truth and its consolations. Yes, this elegant scholar, this accomplished orator, this eminent statesman, this profound jurist, was an humble follower of the meek and lowly Jesus. He thought it no scorn to bow at the footstool—he felt it no degradation to take upon him the yoke of a Saviour. And when his last hour came, we cannot doubt that the parting soul counted all—fame, reputation, worldly pleasures, worldly honors—as but dross, in comparison with that faith, upon whose wings it was upborne to the bright realms of glory.
Such, my young friends, was the great and good man whose life and character I have attempted to portray. I cannot take upon myself to say that he was faultless: since the memorable declaration of the incarnate Son of God, that "there is none good save one, that is God," it would be impious for me to do so; but whatever might have been his frailties, he had such great virtues, such noble qualities, there was such a harmony in his character, such a beauty in his life, that I can conscientiously propose him for your study, and recommend him for your imitation. Go then, and like him, perform fully, faithfully, fearlessly, your duty to yourselves, your families, your country and your God; and then, like him, you will be honored in your lives, and when you come to die, a nation's tears will hallow your graves.
[ADDRESS AT THE UNIVERSITY.]
BY WILLIAM GASTON.
Gentlemen of the Dialectic and Philanthropic Societies:
When I look around on this extraordinary concourse of visitors I cannot but feel that expectation has been too highly excited, and cannot but anticipate and regret the disappointment which it must necessarily meet with. Aware of the value which is here set upon the ceremony of the annual address; knowing that friends of the University throughout the State regard it as calculated not only to excite a spirit of emulation among the students, but to attract the public attention to the institution itself; and warmly attached to that noble cause, for the advancement of which these edifices have been erected and your associations formed, I felt myself bound to accept the invitation, in obedience to which I appear before you. Could I indeed have foreseen the unusual engagements which, added to the ordinary occupations of a busy life, have left me no leisure to prepare anything worthy of the general expectation, I should have deemed myself at liberty to decline the call. But the discovery was not made until after my word was pledged and it was too late to hope that the duty could be devolved on another. Compelled then to choose between an entire disappointment of your hopes and the presenting myself to you without the advantage of full preparation, I have resolved to execute the undertaking imperfectly rather than forego it altogether. To whatever petty mortifications the adoption of this alternative may expose me elsewhere, from you, my young friends, I am sure of a favorable reception. You will see in it an expression of the sense which I entertain of the honor conferred on me, by your choice, of my readiness to gratify your wishes, and of my solicitude to cheer you on in the noble career upon which you have entered. The few homely truths which I wish to impress upon your minds will not indeed come mended from my tongue, but I do not despair that, presented in their naked plainness, but urged with the earnestness and sincerity of friendship, they may win their way to your generous and affectionate approbation.
The authority of Shakespeare is often invoked for the position that "there is a tide in the affairs of men, which taken at the flood, leads on to fortune." Without venturing to deny altogether the fitness of this metaphor, and fully admitting it to have enough of truth to render it appropriate to the occasion for which it was used, and the character to whom the great poet assigned it, I yet regard it as too favorable to that indolence of disposition which is always ready to imagine success in life as depending on some fortunate tide. I hold that, generally, every man is the architect of his own fortune, the author of his own greatness or insignificance, happiness or misery. True, it is, that casualties, neither to be foreseen nor prevented, may defeat schemes which have been wisely concerted and vigorously prosecuted; and that success, undeserved, and perhaps unsought, may sometimes befall the weak and slothful. These, however, are but occasional deviations from the ordinary course of nature, according to which, man's energies, wisely or foolishly directed, and diligently or carelessly exerted, are made to determine his character and condition in society. The stoutest ship that was ever manned with prudent heads, brave hearts, and strong hands has foundered in a hurricane, while the feeble bark that "owns no mastery in floating" is sometimes safely wafted into port; yet, who can deny that, ordinarily, the fate of the voyage must depend on the skill, care, and courage with which it is conducted. Much, too, very much, either for permanent good or ill in the fate of every individual, has been found to follow almost necessarily from the habits formed, the propensities cherished or restrained, and the rules of conduct adopted at a very early period of life. We might, perhaps, be tempted to regret that such important and often awful consequences should follow on the doings of an age, when the unworn senses are alive to every impression and the keen appetite greedy for every enjoyment; when the imagination is wild, the judgment feeble, and "heedless, rambling impulse" has scarcely learned to think. Yet such is the constitution of nature, and such consequently the appointment of Him, whose ways are always wise, benevolent and just, and whose will it were not more madness to resist than it is impiety to question. Look through the world, and the least observant cannot fail to discover talents abused, opportunities squandered, and men ruined because of early folly, misbehavior or thoughtlessness; and let those who have passed through life's ordeal with safety and honor look back on their trials, and they will acknowledge how much they owe to very early impressions and to habits contracted almost without a sense of their use or a foresight of their consequences. He, therefore, who aspires to excellence cannot too soon propose to himself the objects which he should strive to obtain, nor fix his aim too early, or too steadily, on the end to which his efforts should be directed. The shortness of life, large fragments of which are necessarily occupied by animal wants or wasted on frivolous cares and amusements, leave, at best, but an inconsiderable portion to be devoted to intellectual cultivation and exertion. To waste this portion would be criminal improvidence, and it is of the highest moment to learn betimes how it may be most beneficially applied.
The end which an ingenuous youth naturally proposes to himself is a faithful and honorable discharge of the duties of life. His objects are to realize the fond hopes of his parents and friends, to acquire the affection and esteem of those around him, to become the dispenser of good to his fellow-men and thus to fulfill the purposes for which it has pleased God to place him in this world of trial and discipline. He feels that these objects are indeed good. By a moral instinct he is propelled towards them as fit to fill his heart, kindle his aspirations, and animate his exertions. Reason, as she gradually unfolds her powers and assumes dominion over him, sanctions this choice with her approbation; and religion comes in aid of nature and reason, to teach him that talents are but lent to be improved, and that an account must be one day rendered in which their use or neglect will be amply rewarded or severely punished. How much is it not to be lamented that sloth should enervate, dissipation corrupt, or vice brutalize this child of hope and promise? You, who have him in charge, watch over him with never-sleeping vigilance and affectionate solicitude. Give him a happy start, sustain him when disposed to flag, reanimate him when discouraged, check kindly his wanderings, soothe his wounded feelings, guide him with your counsels, and save him from the foes by which he is waylaid and beset. Macte nova virtute puer sic itur ad astra.
Most faithfully, no doubt, are these duties performed by the able and excellent men who are here charged with the office of instruction. Little can be done in aid of their efforts but to exhort and entreat all placed under their care to attend to their admonitions, treasure up their counsels, and obey their injunctions. Yet, there are some errors which were prevalent when I was a boy which I have reason to believe still prevail in public schools, and which may perhaps be better handled by an old friend than an acknowledged instructor, and to these, therefore, I would for a few moments request the favorable attention of the younger portion of my hearers.
Vigorous, diligent, and persevering application is essential to the attainment of excellence in every pursuit of man. It is undoubtedly a mistake to suppose that there is no original inequality in the mental faculties of different individuals. Probably, there is as great a disparity in their intellectual as in their physical conformation. But however false this extravagant theory may be there is another error far more common, and, practically, far more mischievous—the error of exaggerating the difference between the original energies of intellect, and of attributing to splendid and resistless genius those victories which are not to be achieved but by well directed and continued industry. It is in the infancy of life that the inequalities of original talent are most striking, and it is not strange that vanity, on the one hand, and indolent admiration, on the other, should hyperbolically extol these obvious advantages. In what this disparity consists it may not be easy to state with precision. But from an observation of many years, I venture to suggest that the chief natural superiority manifested by the favored few over their competitors in the intellectual conflict is to be found in the facility with which their attention is directed and confined to its proper subjects. That youth may be regarded as fortunate indeed who in early life can restrain his wandering thoughts and tie down his mind at will to the contemplation of whatever he wishes to comprehend and to make his own. A few moments of this concentrated application is worth days and weeks of a vague, interrupted, scattered attention. The first resembles the well-known manœuvre in strategy, so simple in its conception and yet so astonishing in its results, by which all the arms of a military force are made to bear upon a given point at the same moment. Everything here tells, because there is no power wasted, and none misapplied. Now let no one despair because he finds this effort to confine his attention difficult, or for a considerable length of time, impracticable. Nothing is more certain than that this power over the mind may be acquired. Let the attempt be repeated again and again—first short, afterwards (as the ability is increased) for longer periods, and success will ultimately follow. The habit of fixed attention will thus be created, and it is one of the peculiarities of all active habits, that in proportion to the difficulty with which they were produced, is their inveteracy, when once thoroughly formed. Thus, it not unfrequently happens that the advantages with which the individual commenced his career, who was naturally alert and devoted in his attention to every subject as it was successively presented to his notice, have not enabled him to contend successfully with him who, by hard efforts, has chained down his wandering thoughts and dissipated faculties to the habit of attention.
Among the best results which attend a course of regular academical education is this exclusive and concentrated direction of the mental powers to their appropriate objects. In the years employed principally in the study of the learned languages the necessity of finding out the meaning of each word and discerning either the agreement between different words or the dependence of some of them upon others in certain grammatical relations necessarily sharpens and fixes the attention. After this preparatory discipline of the intellect the student is introduced to the study of mathematical science, where proposition leads on to proposition in regular order, and his attention is necessarily enchained to each truth, as it follows with logical certainty, from truths previously demonstrated. He is then initiated into the mysterious laws of natural philosophy, as they have been discovered, explained and illustrated, by a course of rigorous induction, and is ultimately familiarized with the yet nobler and more sublime investigations of moral science, the refinements of taste, the beauties of eloquence, and the charm of heavenly poesy. And this admirable training is conducted remote from the bustle and cares of the world, in the very hush of the passions, and beyond the reach of beguiling and distracting pleasures. Here surely, then, the understanding is disciplined, its discrimination rendered more acute, its general health and vigor confirmed, while a facility is created for directing its powers to the various manly and trying services which may await in life's busy theatre. But not unfrequently is the question asked by querulous students, why all this devoted attention to the dead languages, to mathematical theorems, philosophical experiments, metaphysical disquisitions and critical subtleties? In the world [he soliloquizes] no one talks Greek or Latin, and in the forum or legislative hall we shall not be called upon to demonstrate the propositions of Euclid, or explain the phenomena of hydrostatics and optics. The motives of human action are better learned in that great practical school, the world, than by poring over the theories of metaphysicians; and all the rules of Quintilian, Rollin, or Blair will never make a powerful reasoner or an eloquent orator. Why, then, shall we consume our nights and days in the acquisition of that which is to be of no practical utility hereafter, and which brings with it no immediate advantage, except the gratification of pride, a shortlived honor, a distinction at commencement? Beware, my young friends, beware of the tempter! These are the suggestions of sloth—the most insidious, persuasive and dangerous of deceivers. Vitanda est improba Siren Desidia.
If you cannot close your ears against her insinuations, strengthen your understandings to triumph over her sophisms, and nerve your courage to resist her wiles. Be sure, if you submit to her benumbing influence, and waste your days here in idleness, the time will come, when with bitter, but perhaps unavailing anguish, you shall bemoan your folly. Remember, that it is not designed by an academical education to teach you all that it behooves you to learn. Education is not completed within these walls. When you shall have quitted this peaceful retreat, and selected the profession or state in life in which you are to be engaged, then you should apply all your efforts to the acquisition of that species of knowledge which is more especially needed. Here are inculcated those elementary principles of science and literature which experience has shown to be best fitted to form the foundation of the character of the scholar and gentleman—those rudiments of instruction, which, omitted here, are rarely indeed acquired afterwards. Here are to be formed those habits of vigorous and continuous application—here, the capacities for improvement are to be cultivated and strengthened, so that every occasion and every employment without these walls may become subsidiary to further advancement in knowledge, ability, and usefulness. It is a miserable fallacy to mistake the exception for the rule. True it is, that those who have won the highest honors at college do not always realize the hopes which these glorious beginnings have excited. "The fair bloom of fairest fruit" may be blasted by pestilent dews. Folly, vanity and vice, low pursuits and vulgar associations, indolence, intemperance, and debauchery but too often debase and destroy the generous youth who entered on life's career rich in academical distinction, docile, ardent for fame, patient of labor, of manly purpose and noblest promise. Mourn over these moral wrecks. Lament the inadequacy of all earthly good, the frail character of all human excellence. Weep for those who have fallen from their high estate, but say not it was folly in them thus to have risen. True it is also, that it sometimes, though very rarely, happens that those who have been idle during their academical course have, by extraordinary exertions, retrieved their early neglect, and in the end outstripped others who started in the race far ahead. These are the exceptions—they furnish cause to humble arrogance, check presumption, banish despair, and encourage reformation. But so surely as a virtuous life usually precedes a happy death, so surely it will be found that within the college precincts is laid the groundwork of that preeminence afterwards acquired in the strife of men, and that college distinctions are not only good testimony of the fidelity with which college duties have been performed, but the best presages and pledges of excellence on a more elevated and extensive field of action. In defiance, therefore, of all the lures of pleasure and seductive suggestions of sloth, let active, persevering industry be the habit of your lives. Form this habit here, and cherish and preserve it ever afterwards.
But however earnestly you are thus exhorted to diligence, let it not be forgotten that diligence itself is but a subordinate quality, and derives its chief value from the end to which it is directed and the motives by which it is impelled. It is diligence in a good cause only that is commendable. The first great maxim of human conduct, that which it is all-important to impress on the understandings of young men, and recommend to their hearty adoption is, above all things, in all circumstances, and under every emergency, to preserve a clean heart and an honest purpose. Integrity, firm, determined integrity, is that quality which, of all others, raises man to the highest dignity of his nature, and fits him to adorn and bless the sphere in which he is appointed to move. Without it, neither genius nor learning, neither the gifts of God, nor human exertions, can avail aught for the accomplishment of the great objects of human existence. Integrity is the crowning virtue—integrity is the pervading principle which ought to regulate, guide, control, and vivify every impulse, desire, and action. Honesty is sometimes spoken of as a vulgar virtue; and perhaps that honesty, which barely refrains from outraging the positive rules ordained by society for the protection of property, and which ordinarily pays its debts and performs its engagements, however useful and commendable a quality, is not to be numbered among the highest efforts of human virtue. But that integrity which, however tempting the opportunity, or however secure against detection, no selfishness nor resentment, no lust of power, place, favor, profit or pleasure can cause to swerve from the strict rule of right, is the perfection of man's moral nature. In this sense the poet was right when he pronounced an honest man the noblest work of God. It is almost inconceivable what an erect and independent spirit this high endowment communicates to man, and what a moral intrepidity and vivifying energy it imparts to his character. There is a family alliance between all the virtues, and perfect integrity is always followed by a train of goodly qualities, frankness, benevolence, humanity, patriotism, promptness to act, and patience to endure. In moments of public need, these indicate the man who is worthy of universal confidence. Erected on such a basis, and built up of such materials, fame is enduring. Such is the fame of our Washington, of the man "inflexible to ill and obstinately just." While, therefore, other monuments, intended to perpetuate human greatness, are daily mouldering into dust, and belie the proud inscriptions which they bear, the solid granite pyramid of his glory lasts from age to age, imperishable, seen afar off, looming high over the vast desert, a mark, a sign, and a wonder for the wayfarers through this pilgrimage of life.
A nice sense of integrity cannot, therefore, be too early cherished, or too sedulously cultivated. In the very dawnings of life occasions are presented for its exercise. Within these walls temptations every day occur, when temporary advantage solicits a deviation from the rule of right. In the discharge of the various duties which you owe to your companions, let no petty selfishness be indulged, no artifices practiced, by which you are to escape from your fair share of labor, inconvenience or contribution, or any one deprived of the full measure of whatever he may rightfully claim. Cultivate singleness of purpose and frankness of demeanor, and hold in contempt whatever is sordid, disingenuous, cunning or mean. But it is when these peaceful shades shall have been left behind, and the fitful course of busy life begun, that seductions will be presented under every form by which inexperience, infirmity of purpose, and facility of disposition, can be waylaid. Then is the crisis of the young man's fate—then is the time to take his stand, to seize his vantage ground. If he can then defy the allurements of cupidity, sensuality and ambition, the laugh of fools, the arts of parasites, and the contagion of improbity, then indeed, may he hope,
"In sight of mortal and immortal powers,
As in a boundless theatre to run
The great career of justice—
And through the mists of passion and of sense,
And through the tossing tide of chance and pain
To hold his course unfaltering."
You, my young friends, who are standing at the threshold, and waiting with eager impatience the signal for entrance upon life, must not think that I mean to alarm you with idle fears because I thus warn you of the approaching conflict. The enraged bull may close his eyes before he rushes upon his foe, but rational courage calmly surveys danger, and then deliberately prepares and determines to encounter it. Apprised of your peril, and armed for the encounter, enter on your course with resolved hearts, and fear not for the issue.
So sweet are the notes of human praise, and so abhorrent the tones of reproach, that it is among the highest efforts of magnanimity to pursue the straightforward course of duty, without being turned aside by commendation or reproof, by flattery or calumny. Whatever be our journey through life, like the princess in the eastern tale, ascending the mountain in search of the wondrous bird, we are sure to hear around us the confused sounds of blandishment and solicitation, or menace and insult, until with many of us, the giddy head is turned, and we are converted into monuments of warning to those who are to follow life's adventure. Rare, indeed, is that moral courage which, like the prudent Parizade, closes its ears against the impression of these sounds, and casts not an eye behind until its destined course be accomplished. Rare, however, as may be this excellence, and in its perfection perhaps unattainable, there can be no true dignity and decision of character without a near approach to it. Let youth be ever modest, ever deferential to the counsels, the suggestions and the claims of others. But in matters of right and wrong, whatever be the lures, the taunts, or the usages of the world, or whatever the supposed inconveniences of singularity, let judgment and conscience always rule with absolute sway. Carry this maxim with you through life, whatever be the station you are to occupy, or the business you are to pursue; and carry with it another kindred maxim—rely for success in your undertakings, not on the patronage of others, but on your own capacity, resolution, diligence, and exertions. Rise by merit, or rise not at all. Suited as these injunctions are believed to be by all, they are peculiarly addressed to those who, panting for renown, are resolved to enter upon a public career, and long "to read their history in a nation's eyes."
"O how wretched," exclaimed the Poet of Nature, "is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors." Miserable is the condition of every being who hangs on the favors of creatures like himself. Deserve, and strive by desert, to win the esteem of your fellow-men. Thus acquired, it decorates him who obtains and blesses those who bestow it. To them it is returned in faithful service, and to him in aid of the approbation of conscience to animate diligence and reward exertion. Those too, who engage in public service, are bound to cherish a hearty sympathy with the wants, feelings, comforts, and wishes of the people—whose welfare is committed to their charge. It is essential for the preservation of that confidence which ought to subsist between the principal and the agent, the constituent and the representative, that all haughtiness and reserve should be banished from their intercourse. It sometimes happens that he who has lived too constantly among books manifests a disgust in an association with the uneducated and unrefined, which mortifies and repels them. This is absurd in him, and unjust to them. It is absurd, for he ought to know, and know well, those for whom, and upon whom, he expects to act—they constitute in fact, one of the first and most appropriate objects of his study; and it is unjust, for not unfrequently under this roughness which shocks the man of books is to be found a stock of practical information, in which he is miserably deficient. Banish, then, all superciliousness, for it is criminal and ridiculous. Honestly seek to serve your country, for it is glorious to advance the good of your fellow-men, and thus, as far as feeble mortals may, act up to the great example of Him in whose image and likeness you are made. Seek also, by all honest arts, to win their confidence, but beware how you prefer their favor to their service. The high road of service is indeed laborious, exposed to the rain and sun, the heat and dust; while the by-path of favor has, apparently, at first, much the same direction, and is bordered with flowers and sheltered by trees, "cooled with fountains and murmuring with waterfalls." No wonder, then, that like the son of Abensina, in Johnston's beautiful apologue the young adventurer is tempted to try the happy experiment of "uniting pleasure with business, and gaining the rewards of diligence without suffering its fatigues." But once entered upon, the path of favor, though found to decline more and more from its first direction, is pursued through all its deviations, till at length even the thought of return to the road of service is utterly abandoned. To court the fondness of the people is found or supposed to be easier than to merit their approbation. Meanly ambitious of public trust, without the virtues to deserve it; intent on personal distinction, and having forgotten the ends for which alone it is worth possessing, the miserable being, concentered all in self, learns to pander to every vulgar prejudice, to advocate every popular error, to chime in with every dominant party, to fawn, flatter and deceive, and become a demagogue! All manliness of principle has been lost in this long course of meanness: he dare not use his temporary popularity for any purposes of public good, in which there may be a hazard of forfeiting it; and the very eminence to which he is exalted renders but more conspicuous his servility and degradation. However clear the convictions of his judgment, however strong the admonitions of his, as yet, not thoroughly stifled conscience, not these, not the law of God, nor the rule of right, nor the public good, but the caprice of his constituents, must be his only guide. Having risen by artifice, and conscious of no worth to support him, he is in hourly dread of being supplanted in the favor of the deluded multitude by some more cunning deceiver. And such, sooner or later, is sure to be his fate. At some unlucky moment, when he bears his blushing honors thick upon him—and well may such honors blush—he is jerked from his elevation by some more dextrous demagogue, and falls, unpitied, never to rise again. Can this be the lot of him who has been here trained to admire and love high-minded excellence, and who has been taught by high classical authority to regard with the same fearless and immovable indifference the stern countenance of the tyrant and the wicked ardor of the multitude, and who has learned from a yet higher and holier authority to hold fast to "whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, to abhor that which is evil and cleave to that which is good?" Believe me, however, this is no fancy picture. The original may be found in the world every day. Nor will it surprise those who have had occasion to see how the vain heart is swollen, and the giddy head turned, how honesty of purpose and manliness of spirit are perverted by popular applause. It is but the first step that costs. Once yield to the suggestion that a little deceit or prevarication, a slight sacrifice of principle and independence, a compromise of conscience in matters not absolutely fundamental, may be excused, when the immediate gain is obvious and the end in view important, and the downward path becomes every day more and more smooth until, in its descent, it reaches the very abyss of vulgar, trading, intriguing, electioneering, office-hunting politicians. If in this lowest depth a lower deep can be found, none of us, I am sure, have the curiosity to explore it.
But is integrity sure to meet here its merited reward? Unquestionably not. If it were, and the fact generally known, there would scarcely be room for choice, and men would be honest from the want of a plausible temptation to be otherwise. But it is not too much to say, that in general, integrity has a tendency to promote the interests of him who pursues it, and it is therefore recommended to our adoption by prudence, not less than by principle. Success in the acquisition of any intrinsic object is necessarily uncertain, since it depends on contingencies which cannot be foreseen, and which, if foreseen, are frequently beyond our power. It is not in mortals to command success. No talent, no courage, no industry, and no address can be certain to effect it. But when it is attempted by cunning, disingenuous means, it is usually rendered more difficult of attainment because of the complexity of the scheme and the risk of detection and counteraction. Honesty, in the long run, is therefore the surer policy. It is impossible to thrive without the reputation of it, and it is far easier to be honest, indeed, than to cheat the world into the belief of integrity where it is not. The crooked stratagems, the arts, toils, concealments and self-denials, which are necessary to carry on a successful imposition, are far more onerous and painful than all the duties which a life of probity enjoins; while the consciousness of an upright deportment diffuses through the whole man that security and serenity which infinitely outweighs all the advantages of successful cunning. Nor, in recommending a spirit of independence, is it intended to proscribe the acceptance of friendly aid, freely tendered, and won by no mean solicitation. Children of the same common family, we are bound to help each other in the trials and difficulties of our common pilgrimage; nor should we ever be too proud to receive from others that assistance which it is our duty to render to them. Now such aid is not only more likely to be bestowed, but comes with far greater effect, when there has been a manly and sustained effort to do without it. The spindling plant which has always been supported by a prop is not only unable to stand alone, but can scarcely be sustained by props when the season of fruit arrives; whereas, the slight assistance then bestowed on the hardy tree that, self-sustained, has always braved the breeze, will enable it to bear up under the heaviest and richest burthen. He who trusts to others must necessarily be often disappointed, and the habit of dependence creates a helplessness which is almost incapable of exertion. Fancy dwells on expected aid, until it mistakes its own creations for realities, and the child of illusion wastes life in miserable daydreams, unable to act for himself, and confidently relying on assistance which he is destined never to receive.
Deeply-rooted principles of probity, confirmed habits of industry, and a determination to rely on one's own exertions constitute, then, the great preparation for the discharge of the duties of man, and the best security for performing them with honor to one's self and benefit to others. But it may be asked what is there in such a life of never-ending toil, effort and privation, to recommend it to the acceptance of the young and the gay? Those who aspire to heroic renown, may indeed make up their minds to embrace these "hard doctrines;" but it may be well questioned whether happiness is not preferable to greatness, and enjoyment more desirable than distinction. Let others, if they will, toil "up the steep where Fame's proud temple shines afar"; we choose rather to sport in luxurious ease and careless glee in the valley below. It is, indeed, on those who aspire to eminence that these injunctions are intended to be pressed with the greatest emphasis, not only because a failure in them would be more disastrous than in others, but because they are exposed to greater and more numerous dangers of error. But it is a sad mistake to suppose that they are not suited to all, and are not earnestly urged upon all, however humble their pretensions or moderate their views. Happiness, as well as greatness, enjoyment as well as renown, have no friends so sure as Integrity, Diligence, and Independence. We are not placed here to waste our days in wanton riot or inglorious ease, with appetites perpetually gratified and never palled, exempted from all care and solicitude, with life ever fresh, and joys ever new. He who has fitted us for our condition, and assigned to us its appropriate duties, has not left his work unfinished, and omitted to provide a penalty for the neglect of our obligations. Labor is not more the duty than the blessing of man. Without it there is neither mental nor physical vigor, health, cheerfulness, nor animation; neither the eagerness of hope, nor the capacity to enjoy. Every human being must have some object to engage his attention, excite his wishes, and rouse him to action, or he sinks, a prey to listlessness. For want of proper occupation, see strenuous idleness resorting to a thousand expedients—the race-course, the bottle, or the gaming-table, the frivolities of fashion, the debasements of sensuality, the petty contentions of envy, the grovelling pursuits of avarice, and all the various distracting agitations of vice. Call you these enjoyments? Is such the happiness which it is so dreadful to forego?
"Vast happiness enjoy the gay allies!
A youth of follies, an old age of cares,
Young yet enervate, old yet never wise;
Vice wastes their vigor and their mind impairs.
Vain, idle, dissolute, in thoughtless ease,
Reserving woes for age, their prime they spend;
All wretched, hopeless to the evil days,
With sorrow to the verge of life they tend;
Grieved with the present, of the past ashamed;
They live and are despised, they die, no more are named."
If to every bounty of Providence there be annexed, as assuredly there is, some obligations as a condition for its enjoyment, on us, blest as we have been, and as we now are, with the choicest gifts of heaven here below—with freedom, peace, order, civilization and social virtue—there are unquestionably imposed weighty obligations. You whom I now address will, in a few years, be among the men of the succeeding age. In a country like ours, where the public will is wholly unfettered, and every man is a component part of that country, there is no individual so humble who has not duties of a public kind to discharge. His views and actions have an influence on those of others, and his opinions, with theirs, serve to make up that public will. More especially is this the case with those who, whatever may be their pursuits in life, have been raised by education to a comparative superiority in intellectual vigor and attainments. On you, and such as you, depends the fate of the most precious heritage ever won by the valor, preserved by the prudence, or consecrated by the virtue of an illustrious ancestry—illustrious, not because of factitious titles, but nature's nobles, wise, good, generous, and brave! To you, and such as you, will be confided in deposit the institutions of our renowned and beloved country. Receive them with awe, cherish them with loyalty, and transmit them whole, and, if possible, improved, to your children. Yours will, indeed, be no sinecure office. As the public will is the operative spring of all public action, it will be your duty to make and to keep the public will enlightened. There will always be some error to dispel, some prejudice to correct, some illusion to guard against, some imposition to detect and expose. In aid of these individual efforts, you must provide, by public institutions, for diffusing among the people that general information, without which, they cannot be protected from the machinations of deceivers. As your country grows in years, you must also cause it to grow in science, literature, arts, and refinement. It will be for you to develop and multiply its resources, to check the faults of manners as they rise, and to advance the cause of industry, temperance, moderation, justice, morals, and religion all around you. On you too, will devolve the duty which has been long neglected, but which cannot with impunity be neglected much longer, of providing for the mitigation, and (is it too much to hope for in North Carolina?) for the ultimate extirpation of the worst evil that afflicts the southern part of our confederacy. Full well do you know to what I refer, for on this subject there is, with all of us, a morbid sensitiveness which gives warning even of an approach to it. Disguise the truth as we may, and throw the blame where we will, it is slavery which, more than any other cause, keeps us back in the career of improvement. It stifles industry and represses enterprise—it is fatal to economy and providence, it discourages skill, impairs our strength as a community, and poisons morals at the fountain-head. How this evil is to be encountered, how subdued, is indeed a difficult and delicate inquiry which this is not the time to examine nor the occasion to discuss. I felt, however, that I could not discharge my duty without referring to this subject, as one which ought to engage the prudence, moderation, and firmness of those who, sooner or later, must act decisively upon it.
I would not depress your buoyant spirits with gloomy anticipations, but I should be wanting in frankness if I did not state my convictions that you will be called to the performance of other duties unusually grave and important. Perils surround you, and are imminent, which will require clear heads, pure intentions and stout hearts to discern and overcome. There is no side on which danger may not make its approach, but from the wickedness and madness of factions it is most menacing. Time was, indeed, when factions contended amongst us with virulence and fury, but they were, or affected to be, at issue on questions of principle; now Americans band together under the names of men, and wear the livery and put on the badges of their leaders; then the individuals of the different parties were found side by side, dispersed throughout the various districts of our confederated republic, but now the parties that distract the land are almost identified with our geographical distinctions. Now, then, has come the period foreseen and dreaded by our Washington—by him, "who more than any other individual, founded this, our wide-spreading empire, and gave to our western world independence and freedom"—by him, who with a father's warning voice, bade us beware of "parties founded on geographical discriminations." As yet, the sentiment so deeply planted in the hearts of our honest yeomanry, that union is strength, has not been uprooted. As yet, they acknowledge the truth and feel the force of the homely but excellent aphorism, "United we stand, divided we fall." As yet, they take pride in the name of "the United States"—in the recollection of the fields that were won, the blood which was poured forth, and the glory which was gained in the common cause, and under the common banner of a united country. May God, in His mercy, forbid that I or you, my friends, should live to see the day when these sentiments and feelings shall be extinct! Whenever that day comes, then is the hour at hand when this glorious republic, this once national and confederated Union, which for nearly half a century has presented to the eyes, the hopes and the gratitude of man a more brilliant and lovely image than Plato or More or Harrington ever feigned or fancied, shall be like a tale that is told, like a vision that hath passed away. But these sentiments and feelings are necessarily weakened, and in the end must be destroyed, unless the moderate, the good, and the wise unite to "frown indignantly upon the first dawnings of every attempt to alienate any portion of our country from the rest, or to enfeeble the sacred ties which now link together its various parts." Threats of resistance, secession, separation have become common as household words in the wicked and silly violence of public declaimers. The public ear is familiarized with and the public mind will soon be accustomed to the detestable suggestion of disunion! Calculations and conjectures, what may the East do without the South, and what may the South do without the East, sneers, menaces, reproaches, and recriminations, all tend to the same fatal end! What can the East do without the South? What can the South do without the East? They may do much; they may exhibit to the curiosity of political anatomists, and the pity and wonder of the world the disjecta membra, the sundered, bleeding limbs of a once gigantic body instinct with life and strength and vigor. They can furnish to the philosophic historian another melancholy and striking instance of the political axiom that all republican confederacies have an inherent and unavoidable tendency to dissolution. They will present fields and occasion for border wars, for leagues and counter-leagues, for the intrigues of petty statesmen, the struggles of military chiefs, for confiscations, insurrections, and deeds of darkest hue. They will gladden the hearts of those who have proclaimed that men are not fit to govern themselves, and shed a disastrous eclipse on the hopes of rational freedom throughout the world. Solon in his code proposed no rational punishment for parricide, treating it as an impossible crime. Such with us ought to be the crime of political parricide—the dismemberment of our "fatherland." Cari sunt parentes, cari liberi, propinqui, familiares; sed omnes omnium caritates patria una complexa est; pro qua quis bonus dubitet mortem oppetere, si ei sit profuturus? Quo est detestabilior istorum immanitas qui lacerarunt omni scelere patriam, et in ea funditus delenda occupati et sunt et fuerunt.
If it must be so, let parties and party men continue to quarrel with little or no regard to the public good. They may mystify themselves and others with disputations on political economy, proving the most opposite doctrines to their own satisfaction, and perhaps to the conviction of no one else on earth. They may deserve reprobation for their selfishness, their violence, their errors, or their wickedness. They may do our country much harm. They may retard its growth, destroy its harmony, impair its character, render its institutions unstable, pervert the public mind, and deprave the public morals. These are indeed evils, and sore evils, but the principle of life remains, and will yet struggle with assured success over these temporary maladies. Still we are great, glorious, united, and free, still we have a name that is revered abroad and loved at home—a name which is a tower of strength to us against foreign wrong and a bond of internal union and harmony, a name which no enemy pronounces but with respect, and which no citizen hears but with a throb of exultation. Still we have that blessed Constitution which, with all its pretended defects and all its alleged violations, has conferred more benefit on man than ever yet flowed from any other human institution—which has established justice, insured domestic tranquillity, provided for the common defense, promoted the general welfare, and which, under God, if we be true to ourselves, will insure the blessings of liberty to us and to our posterity. Surely such a country and such a Constitution have claims upon you, my friends, which cannot be disregarded. I entreat and adjure you, then, by all that is near and dear to you on earth, by all the obligations of patriotism, by the memory of your fathers who fell in the great and glorious struggle, for the sake of your sons whom you would not have to blush for your degeneracy, by all your proud recollections of the past and all your fond anticipations of the future renown of our nation, preserve that country, uphold that Constitution. Resolve that they shall not be lost while in your keeping, and may God Almighty strengthen you to fulfill that vow!
GEORGE E. BADGER.
[GEORGE E. BADGER.]
BY WM. A. GRAHAM.
My acquaintance with Mr. Badger commenced in the latter part of the summer of 1825. He had already completed his service as a judge, which office he resigned at the close of the spring circuit of that year; had contested the palm of forensic eloquence and professional learning with Seawell and Gaston, with a wide increase of reputation, at the recent term of the Supreme Court, and was returned to the practice in Orange, where he had once resided, in generous competition with Murphy, Nash, Yancey, Mangum, Hawks, Haywood, and others—Mr. Ruffin, hitherto the leader at this bar, having been appointed his successor on the bench of the Superior Court.
He was then a little turned of thirty years of age. One half of his time since his majority had been passed upon the bench, yet his fame as a lawyer was fully established; and though he doubtless afterwards added vastly to his stores of erudition, yet in quickness of perception, readiness of comprehension, clear and forcible reasoning, elegant and imposing diction, in all that constitutes an orator and advocate, he had attained an eminence hardly surpassed at any period of his life. From that time and before it, I know not how long, till the day he was stricken by the disease which terminated his life, in North Carolina, at least, his name was on every tongue. He was not only marked and distinguished, but an eminent man. So bright and shining a character could not but attract general observation; and though
"Hard is his fate on whom the public gaze
Is fixed forever, to detract or praise";
and while, with gay and hilarious nature, frank but somewhat eccentrical manners and unequaled powers of conversation, united with some infirmity of temper, his expressions and conduct in the earlier half of his life were often the subject of severe criticism; yet in the long period of from forty to fifty years, in which he moved "in the high places of the world," no one denied him the gifts of most extraordinary talents and unswerving integrity and truthfulness. Even in the particular in which complaint had been made—an imputed hauteur and exclusiveness—his disposition was either mellowed by time, or, what is more probable, his character came to be better appreciated from being better understood; and for years before the sad eclipse which obscured his usefulness no man enjoyed more of the general confidence and favor of the people, as none had possessed in a higher degree their admiration.
Transferred to the more extended field of jurisprudence administered in the courts of the United States, and afterwards to the Senate of the nation, he took rank with the first advocates, jurisprudents, and debaters of the Union; and the purity of his morals, the elevation of his character, his readiness and accomplishments as a conversationalist, the gayety and vivacity of his manners, rendered him a general favorite with old and young, the grave and gay, in the brilliant society of the metropolis.
George Edmund Badger was born in New Bern, North Carolina, on the 17th of April, 1795. His father, Thomas Badger, Esq., the son of Edmund and Lucretia Badger, was a native of Connecticut, and his birth is recorded to have taken place at Windham, in that State, on the 27th of June, 1766. Having received a good education, he came early in manhood to New Bern, and thence to Spring Hill, in the county of Lenoir, where for some time he taught school, but was then probably a student of the law, and was in due time admitted to the practice in this State. Fixing his residence in New Bern, he early rose to distinction as a practitioner, and appears in the published reports as one of the leading counsellors in the courts of that riding, and in the Supreme Court of the State, from 1792 till his death, which occurred from yellow fever, while in attendance on a court at Washington, in Beaufort county, on the 10th of October, 1799.
The traditions of the profession and of intelligent persons of his acquaintance represent him as a man of determined character and great intellectual and professional ability, and leave the question in doubt whether at the same period of life he was more than equaled by his son. The late Peter Browne, himself one of the first lawyers and men of letters of his time in North Carolina, a contemporary at the bar of the senior Badger, spoke of him, before the entrance of his son into public life, as one of the ablest men he had ever known, and especially as possessing a power to fascinate and control masses of men in the most remarkable degree—a power, he added, which the son might exert with similar effect, if he would.
His mother, by name Lydia Cogdell, was the daughter of Colonel Richard Cogdell, of New Bern, a gentleman of much consideration under the provincial rule in North Carolina, and an active and bold leader in the movement of the Revolution. As early as August, 1775, his name appears second on the list of the committee of safety for New Bern district, appointed by the first Congress of the province (that of Alexander Gaston being at the head). Lydia Cogdell was a person of singular vigor of mind and character, well fitted to encounter the cares and trials of her early widowhood. Her husband had experienced that which has been said to be the common lot of the profession in this country, "to work hard, live well and die poor," and left her with but little fortune to rear three children, of whom George was the eldest and the only son.
According to her narrative, he manifested no fondness for books, and made little progress in learning till about seven years of age. At that period she placed in his hands Goldsmith's Animated Nature. He was delighted with its perusal, and she never found it necessary to stimulate his thirst for knowledge afterwards. His preparatory course was taken in his native town of New Bern, and at the age of fifteen he entered Yale College. There he passed through the studies of the freshman and the sophomore classes, when his education, so far as it depended on schools, was brought to a close. A relative, a man of fortune, at the North, who had hitherto furnished the means for his college expenses (his own patrimony being wholly insufficient), and from whose bounty he had hoped to pass on to graduation, suddenly withdrew his support and left him to his own exertions. Of the motives of this unexpected arrest in his college career, on which so much might have depended, it is useless, now at least, to speculate or inquire. But it will be a source of gratification to his friends to be assured that it was attributable to no demerit in our student. True, his contemporaries at Yale differ widely in their estimation of his capacities while there. The Northern students, who belonged to a different society, regarded him as a frolicsome youth, averse to mathematics, and fond of novel-reading, who gave no indications of superior endowments. On the other hand, a college classmate (Thomas P. Devereux, Esq., of Halifax) and member of the same society, who knew him intimately throughout life, and was five and twenty years associated with him at the bar, affirms that "he was beyond dispute the first boy of his class, composed of seventy individuals, many of them afterwards distinguished men." He was not, says this friend, "a hard student of the prescribed course. Perhaps I ought to add that he was remiss in his college duties, but he was eager for information to a most wonderful degree, and among his fellow-students he exhibited the same intellectual superiority we have seen him so steadily maintain among men." To the same source I am indebted for the following observations concerning his elocution, which I repeat for the advantage and encouragement of the young. "I think," he remarks, "that the thousands who listened to the fluency with which Mr. Badger spoke, the clearness of his enunciation, the exact accuracy of his sentences and the carefulness of their formation—the right words always in the right places—will be surprised to learn that in his youthful attempts in debate he was almost a stammerer. I have heard him say he owed exemption from downright stuttering to his father, whom he remembered with affection, though under five years of age at the time of his decease, who would not permit him to speak while he hesitated in the least, but required him to stand by his side perfectly silent, until he had collected himself and arranged his thoughts. He, himself, often asserted that any one could speak fluently who thought clearly and did not lose his presence of mind."
He made known to President Dwight the reception of the letter announcing the withdrawal of the patronage by which he had been thus far supported, and the res angusta domi which caused him to bid adieu to Yale when reaching the portion of her curriculum by which his expanding mind would have been most profited, and left with the regrets and kind wishes of that venerable divine and instructor. In after years when he had established a character, his alma mater honored herself by volunteering a degree to her barely risen junior, and enrolling his name among her sons with whom he should have graduated in 1813, as, at a later period, she acknowledged his still higher advancement in liberal learning, by conferring upon him the degree of Doctor of Laws.
He appears to have indulged in no unavailing grief at the freak of fortune which blasted his hopes of a collegiate education, but returning home, though but little over seventeen years of age, betook himself at once to the study of the law. His legal preceptor was his maternal cousin, Hon. John Stanly, of New Bern, who as an advocate, a statesman, a parliamentarian, a wit and adept in conversation, is one of the historical characters of North Carolina; and, who, viewing him as I did, from the gallery of the House of Commons in my boyhood, impressed me as an orator of more graceful and elegant manner and action, according to my conception of the Ciceronian standard, than any public speaker it has ever been my fortune to hear.
Mr. Badger was granted a license to practice law in the County Courts in the summer of 1814, and, according to the usual probation, in the Superior Courts in 1815; the Judges of the Supreme Court consenting to relax the ordinary rule and overlook his nonage, by reason of the narrowness of his fortune and the dependence of his mother and sisters upon his exertions for their support. The war with England raging in the former year, and an invasion of the State being threatened by the British forces under Admiral Cockburn, then hovering on our coasts, Governor Hawkins called out the militia, and himself took the field, in an expedition for the defense of New Bern and Beaufort. In this expedition Mr. Badger served as aid-de-camp to General Calvin Jones, of Wake, with rank of major; but the alarm soon ceasing, with the retirement of the enemy the soldier was again resolved into the youthful barrister. A vacancy occurring in the office of solicitor to prosecute the pleas of the State in that riding, about this time, he was introduced to public notice by the temporary appointment from the judge, and made one circuit in that capacity.
In 1816, the year of his majority, he was returned a member of the House of Commons from the town of New Bern; and whatever advantages he may have lost by his retirement from college (and they were doubtless many and important), it may well be questioned whether any of the more fortunate youths he had left behind in the classic shades of Yale were, by this time, better fitted to play a distinguished part in a deliberative assembly or a court of justice. Profiting by the instruction, the conversation, the intercourse, and the example of that accomplished gentleman, Mr. Stanly, and his compeers, Gaston, Edward Graham, Moses Mordecai, and others, whom he met at the bar or in society, but above all by his own profound study, he not only gained great attainments in the law, but (what is now I fear becoming rare), a familiar acquaintance with the classic authors of English literature, and with the arts of rhetoric and composition. He wrote and spoke our language with a readiness, force, precision, and propriety, the more remarkable because equally as conspicuous in jocose and trifling conversation (in which he freely indulged) as in public address. As a critic, whether under the inspiration of a "good or bad natured muse," he has had few peers among the judges of "English undefiled." His appearance in the Legislature was the advent of a new star above the horizon, somewhat erratic and peculiar in its orbit, but effulgent even in its irregularities, and shining with a splendor not unworthy of the oldest and greatest lights of the firmament.
Tradition furnishes anecdotes of many encounters, during the session, of gladiatorial skill, in which his love of pleasantry and the gaudia certaminis involved him with the late Attorney-General Drew, a son of genius and of Erin, and others, with various success: but it assures us that this, his first and last session in the General Assembly, closed with a profound impression and universal acknowledgment of his genius, culture, and high promise for the future.
The Hon. Thomas Ruffin, the speaker of the House of Commons, who had been first appointed a judge of the Superior Court during this session, discovering in Mr. Badger a congenial spirit, alike emulous with himself of liberal culture and professional distinction, invited him to take his briefs and pursue the practice in Orange. The acceptance of this proposition carried him to Hillsborough as his place of residence for the next two or three years, during which, having married the daughter of Hon. James Turner, of Warren, he transferred his home to Warrenton; thence he moved to Louisburg, where he continued to reside until his retirement from the bench in 1825, when he removed to Raleigh, and there abode during the residue of his life.
How well he maintained his professional character in the new field of his practice is observed in the fact that, with but little of what is known as personal popularity, he was elected a judge of the Superior Court by the Legislature in its session of 1820, at the age of twenty-five. In this office he rode the circuits four years with admitted ability, candor and impartiality, evading no question and no duty; but he was sometimes thought to err from quickness of temper and too great readiness to assume responsibility. His courtesy to the profession won him general esteem. The people, though sometimes murmuring at the severity of a sentence or a supposed arbitrary or whimsical order, regarded with equal wonder the promptness and force with which he discussed questions of law with the veterans of the bar, and the intelligent, amusing and instructive conversation with which he habitually entertained his acquaintances and associates.
I mention a single case in his administration of the law as illustrative both of the firm and impartial hand with which he dealt out justice and the jealous care with which the judiciary of North Carolina has ever protected and maintained the rights of the weak against the strong and influential. A citizen of great fortune, and advanced age, who had represented his county in earlier years in both Houses of the Legislature, having also numerous and influential connections, charged a free-negro with larceny of his property, had him brought by warrant before a justice of the peace, prevailed on the justice to try and convict him of the offense charged, and to sentence him to punishment by stripes, which were inflicted—a proceeding allowable by law, provided the offender had been a slave. But here the culprit was a freeman, and by the Constitution entitled to public trial in open court before a jury of the country. The prosecutor, with the justice and constable, was arraigned before the Superior Court for this violation of law, and their guilt being established, Judge Badger, who happened to preside at this term, was strongly inclined to imprison the principal defendant, and was only deterred by reason of his (said defendant's) age and state of health; but, announcing that this was omitted from that cause only, sentenced him to a fine of twelve hundred dollars, the justice of the peace to fifty, and the constable to ten dollars, the differences being made on account of their several grades of intelligence and consequent criminality, as well as of ability to pay.
From the time of his return to the bar and location at Raleigh, until the access of disease which suddenly, and, as it proved, finally arrested his course, he devoted his time to the practice of his profession, with the exception of a few months, occasioned by his appointment by Harrison and his continuation by Tyler as Secretary of the Navy, and such further interruption as was produced by his occupation of a seat in the Senate of the United States from 1846 to 1855. During his forensic career he was, at different times, proposed by executive nomination for the bench of the Supreme Court, both of his own State and of the United States; but the spirit of party exacted a denial of his confirmation, though no man doubted his eminent qualification.
If it be true, as remarked by Pinkney, in one of his familiar letters, published by Wheaton, that "the bar is not a place to acquire or preserve a false or a fraudulent reputation for talents," it was eminently so in his case. He had an intrepid and self-reliant mind, which, disdaining artifice, timidity or caution, struck out into the open field of controversy with the daring of conscious power, and shunned no adversary not clad in the panoply of truth; was as ready to challenge the authority of Mansfield or Denman, Rosyln or Eldon, if found deflecting from the paths of principle or precedent, as that of meaner names. If, from want of opportunity or inclination, he had failed to master the mathematics of numbers, he made himself proficient in the mathematics of life (as our law, from the exactness of rule at which it aims, has been not inaptly denominated), and by a rigorous logic was prompt to expose whatever could not bear the test of reason. Yet, it was a logic free from the pedantry of the schools, apparently not derived from books, and accompanied by a rapidity of mental action, which gave to it the appearance of intuition. Whether in analysis or synthetical reasoning, in dealing with facts before juries or the most intricate questions of law before courts, these faculties were equally conspicuous, and attended, when occasion called for their use, with powers of humor, sarcasm, and ridicule hardly inferior to those of ratiocination. Added to all this, there was a lucidness of arrangement, an exact grammatical accuracy in every sentence, a forcible and graceful style which, independent of a clear and distinct enunciation, a melodious voice and engaging manner, imparted even to his extemporaneous arguments the charms of polished composition.
On one occasion, in a case of indictment for blasphemy, the question had been raised whether the Christian religion was a part of the common law, with a suggestion that if it was, it might be altered by statute, Mr. Badger volunteered an argument for the cause of religion and sound morality. It so happened that, as he opened his case, a venerable citizen of the State, of great intelligence, entered the court-room to speak a word to the reporter, expecting immediately to retire. He was, however, so fascinated with the manner of the speaker, the splendor of his diction, the copiousness of his theological and legal learning, the force and clearness of his arguments and the precision with which they were stated, that he sat down and heard him to the close, observing, as he withdrew, "what folly ever to have made him a judge, he ought to have been a bishop."
Literature, whose office it is to preserve the results of learning, knowledge, and fancy, has made so little progress among us that there has not been much effort to save from oblivion the discussions at the bar or in the deliberative assemblies of the State—the chief theatres of public intellectual exertion besides the pulpit. Had Mr. Badger been studious of posthumous fame and bestowed half the time in reporting his speeches in the more important of his causes on the circuit, which Cicero recommended and practiced in the preparation of his orations, the result would have been a most interesting contribution to American rhetorical literature. There are occasions enough within the recollection of many, who were present, in Wake, Orange, Granville, Halifax, and elsewhere, when his utterances, even if printed as delivered, would have formed a volume of no less interest than the speeches of Wirt or Emmet, Erskine or Curran, as well as afforded insight into events, crimes, transactions of business, and the state of society of our times, such as the muse of history derives from the records of courts of justice.
Two causes in the Circuit Court of the United States, in the days of Chief Justice Marshall, are especially remembered as being the themes of his most admired arguments, and in which he overcame the preconceived opinions of the great Judge, though impressed and supported by the acknowledged abilities, learning and persuasiveness of Gaston. These were the cases of Whitaker vs. Freeman, an action for libel in twenty-five different counts, and Lattimer vs. Poteat, one of a series of cases in ejectment, to recover immense bodies of land in the western counties, claimed by the citizens of Northern States under purchases from speculators who, it was alleged, had made their entries and procured grants before the extinction of the title of the Cherokee Indians, in violation of law; the defendants claiming under grants from the State made after the admitted cession of the Indian title; and Mr. Badger was retained by the State to defend their interests. This latter case, involving the relations of North Carolina while a separate sovereignty, and afterwards of the United States with the Cherokee Indians, as regulated by sundry treaties, the location of several lines of partition between them and the whites, but removed further and further west as the population of the superior race increased and emigration advanced, surveys partially or wholly made to establish these lines through a mountainous, and in many parts, an impervious country, imputed frauds in transgressing those lines and entries without actual survey, was of exceeding volume and complication in its facts, and occupied a week in the trial. The argument, running through four days, was said to be the most elaborate on both sides ever made in the State in a jury trial. It resulted in a verdict and judgment for the defendants, which was afterwards affirmed by the Supreme Court of the United States. After the trial, Judge Marshall, in the simplicity and candor of his great character, observed to the then Governor of the State, "At the close of Mr. Gaston's opening argument, I thought he had as good a case as I ever saw put to a jury, but Mr. Badger had not spoken two hours before he satisfied me that no one of his [Gaston's] positions could be maintained."
To this instance of laudatus a laudato viro I deem it not improper to add a few others from sources only less eminent: Chief Justice Henderson declared in my presence that "To take up a string of cases, run through them, extract the principle contained in each, and discriminate the points in which they differed from each other, or from the case in hand, I have never seen a man equal to George Badger."
Judge Seawell remarked of him: "Badger is an elementary man," and, continuing in his peculiar and racy style, "he goes to first principles; he finds the corners of his survey and then runs out the boundaries, while others hunt along the lines. The difference between him and myself is, that when I take up a book I read slowly, pausing at the end of each sentence, and when I have reached the bottom of the page I must stop and go back to see whether I fully comprehend the author's meaning, while he reads it off like a novel, and by the time he gets to the bottom of the page or the end of the treatise he has in his mind not only all that the author has taught, but a great deal that the author never knew."
Chief Justice Ruffin, yet surviving in honorable retirement from the labors of the profession, whose early appreciation of the faculties of Mr. Badger we have already noticed, and before whom as a Judge of the Supreme Court, he was in full practice for twenty-three years, affirmed to me, since the death of Mr. Badger, that in dialectic skill and argument he excelled any individual with whom he had ever been acquainted, not even excepting Chief Justice Marshall himself, for that he possessed the faculty of imagination and the capacity for illustration which Judge Marshall had not.
To his hospitality and kind intercourse with gentlemen of the profession, his liberality and assistance to its junior members (whom his gracious demeanor and familiar manners won, no less than his spirited and intelligent conversation entertained and improved), to his unselfish and genial nature, and an integrity on which no temptation ever brought a stain, the occasion permits time only to allude before closing our view of his professional life. Had he been called to the office of Attorney-General of the United States by General Jackson at the period of his first election (of which Mr. Badger had been an ardent and efficient advocate), as many of his friends entertained expectation, and had continued from that time his practice in the Supreme Court of the United States, it is hazarding but little to say that his fame would have equaled that of any advocate in the history of American jurisprudence.
Of Mr. Badger's brief service at the head of the Navy Department—excepting his recommendation of the establishment of a home squadron to patrol the Gulf of Mexico and West Indian seas, as a protection against piracy or any sudden hostile demonstration on our coasts (a measure since adopted)—there is no circumstance demanding especial notice. He had accepted the appointment at the request of President Harrison with reluctance, retained it by the expressed desire of his successor, and resigned it as soon as the breach between Mr. Tyler and the party that elected him was found to be irreparable.
Equally unsought and unexpected was his election to the Senate of the United States when absent from the seat of government on a professional errand beyond the sphere of his usual practice. He entered the Senate in the first year of the war with Mexico and held his seat throughout the struggle which ensued over the introduction of slavery into the Territories acquired by the treaty of peace, a struggle which was then threatening the dissolution of the Union; he held his seat during the compromise measures of 1850, under the leadership of Clay; the election of General Taylor; the succession of Fillmore; the election of Pierce and the first half of his term, including the organization of territorial government in Kansas and Nebraska, a period of more fierce, convulsive and (as the sequel has proved) fatal party agitation than any in American history except the years that have succeeded it. Even now, after the dreadful chastening that all have received from recent calamity, it is difficult to recur to it without reviving passions inconsistent with the solemnities of the hour and the charities inspired by common suffering.
In this struggle it was maintained on the one hand that inasmuch as these acquisitions of territory had been made by the common contribution of men and means from all the States, the citizens of any State were at liberty to emigrate and settle upon them, and to carry any property they might possess, including slaves; that this was the case by virtue of the operation of the Constitution over the new territory proprio vigore. It was further declared that Congress had no authority to legislate in contravention of this right; and, in the progress of the dispute, this latter position, was extended into the assumption that it was the duty of Congress to enact laws to ensure it, and that a failure in this was a breach of Constitutional duty so gross as to justify the injured States in withdrawing from the Union, a power which, it was declared, every State held in reservation, and might exercise at pleasure, the Constitution being but a compact having no sanctions for its perpetuation. On the other hand, there had been for years at the North a party organization, not numerous at first, but which at this period had swollen into a formidable power, whose avowed object was the extinction of slavery; which had denounced the Constitution, so far as it upheld or tolerated it, as a covenant with the infernal powers; had absolved themselves from its maintenance in this particular, and avowed their preference for a disruption of the Union unless slavery should be abolished in the Territories and States as well. More moderate men in that section, while not agreeing with these extremists, denied emphatically either that the Constitution gave to slavery a footing in the Territories or bound Congress to maintain, or not interfere with, its existence there; and that in the exercise of a legislative discretion they might encourage, tolerate or forbid it; the great majority favoring its prohibition in the Territories, while they held themselves bound to non-interference in the States.
In this conflict a third party arose, which affirmed that Congress had no power over the question in the Territories; that the people who settled in those distant regions were entitled (not only when applying for admission into the Union as a State, but whenever organized into a Territory, or at any time thereafter) to determine on the establishment or rejection of slavery as well as all other questions of domestic policy; and by consequence, that the whole history of the Government in the regulation of its Territories had been an error.
Either of the contending parties was accustomed to tolerate very considerable aberrations, and even heresies against its creed, to acquire or preserve party ascendancy, or to achieve success in a Presidential election; to which latter object no concessions and no sacrifices were deemed excessive. And the flame on the main topic was probably fanned by many, on both sides, with a view to the marshalling of forces for this quadrennial contest for power and patronage. Be this as it may, never were themes presented for sectional parties so well adapted to deepen and widen the opened breach between them, or pressed with more intensity or zeal. In the ardor of the contest, old landmarks were discarded and old friends repudiated, if not found in accordance with new positions assumed in its progress. William Pinkney, the great champion of Southern interests, at the period of the Missouri question, was pronounced an abolitionist on the floor of the Senate by the highest Southern authority, and the doors of Faneuil Hall were closed against Daniel Webster by the authorities of Boston, for words of truth, soberness, and conciliation, spoken in the Senate; and this while Clay (once so much deferred to by them as a party leader) sat by, admiring and encouraging every sentence Webster uttered.
Between these excited parties, Mr. Badger stood approved by neither. As far back as the Mexican war, perceiving, as he thought, the dangers to flow from the adjustment of the interests of slavery, provided conquests should be made and new territories acquired, he had repeatedly endeavored to bring the war to a close and to bar out those dangers to the Union, by abstaining from the acquisition of new domains, while the fierce contestants were both eager for extensive conquests—the one with the flattering, but delusive, hope of expanding the area of slavery, the other with the settled purpose to apply to all such conquests the Wilmot Proviso and to exclude slavery.
When peace came with those splendid acquisitions of territory, so gratifying to the national pride, he was not disappointed in discovering in them an apple of discord which was to prove fatal to tranquillity at home. In the contention which was thus inaugurated, he steadily supported the rights of his own section, maintaining the justice and expediency of opening the Territories to all emigrants, without restriction as to any species of property. In an argument, replete with scriptural learning, he defended the servitude existing in the South, under the name of slavery, as not inconsistent with the divine law, more than justified by Jewish precedents, and not forbidden by the benignant teachings of the Saviour of the world, who found in the Roman Empire, at His coming, and left without condemnation, a system of far greater severity. He reminded Northern Senators of the responsibility of their ancestors for the introduction and establishment of slavery in this country—ours being but purchasers from them, at second hand, for a consideration vastly greater than they had paid; the profits being the foundation of much of their wealth, which their consciences did not forbid them to retain. He brought home to their sense of duty and of honor the obligation to maintain the Constitution, so long as it remained the Constitution, in all its parts, as well those which, as individuals, they disapproved as those to which they assented. If any representative of the South urged any or all of these considerations in favor of the rights of his section, with more earnestness and ability than Mr. Badger, it is some one whose argument has not fallen under my observation. But he refused to go further. He refused to argue that Congress had no constitutional power to legislate on the subject of slavery in the Territories. He discussed the question with boldness, and adduced a decision of the Supreme Court, announced in an opinion of Judge Marshall, to the effect that the power did exist; and therefore, he addressed his appeals to the legislative discretion of Congress. For this he incurred the disapprobation of the extreme advocates of Southern interests. But his opinion on the question had been deliberately formed, and though he maintained that the exclusion of the Southern emigrant with his peculiar property from these Territories would be an unjust exercise and abuse of power, he declined to make what he believed to be a false issue, in pronouncing it unconstitutional. He dealt with the whole subject in the interest of peace, in subordination to the Constitution, in the hope of allaying excitement, and with an earnest desire for continued Union. He therefore gladly co-operated with his old political associates, Clay, Webster, Pearce of Maryland, Bell, Mangum, Berrien, Dawson, as well as his Democratic opponents, Cass, Douglas, Dickinson, Foote and other compatriots of both parties, in the well-remembered measures of the Compromise of 1850, which calmed the waves of agitation, and promised a lasting repose from this disturbing element—an effect which was fully realized, with an occasional exception of resistance to the law providing for the surrender of fugitive slaves—until the unfortunate revival of the quarrel by the repeal, in 1854 (in the law for the organization of the Territories of Kansas and Nebraska) of the provision of the Missouri Compromise, by which slavery was restricted from extending north of thirty-six degrees thirty minutes, the southern boundary of Missouri. His participation in this measure of repeal, Mr. Badger regarded as the most serious error of his public life. He lived to see consequences flow from it which he had not contemplated, and publicly expressed his regret that he had given it his support. Not on the ground of any breach of faith, for, as he amply demonstrated in his speech on the passage of the measure, the Representatives of the North in Congress had, in the Oregon Territorial bill, as well as in other instances, demonstrated that they attached to it no sanctity. Yet many good men among their constituents did—and politicians who had, since the settlement of 1850, found "their occupation gone," eagerly welcomed this new theme for agitation. The experience of climate, labor, and production, had shown that African slavery could not be attended with profit north of this parallel, and the repeal was regarded as a flout, defiance, and aggression which provoked the resentment of thousands who had never before co-operated with that extreme faction which conspired the destruction of slavery in despite of the Constitution. Followed up as this measure was by the impotent attempt to enforce protection to the institution in Kansas, where it neither did, nor could exist without unreasonable aid (which attempt was made after Mr. Badger left the Senate, and in which there is no reason to believe he would have concurred), it aroused an opposition, which, when embodied in the organization of party, was irresistible. He was no propagandist of slavery, though all the affections of his home and heart seconded the efforts of his great mind in defending it as an institution of the country recognized and guaranteed by the Constitution of the United States. He was too sagacious to believe it could be benefited in any way by provoking the shock of civil war, and too truthful and patriotic to trifle with it as a means of rallying parties or subserving any of the interests of faction. In voting for the repeal of the Missouri restriction, he looked upon it as having been overvalued in its practical importance at first, abandoned by the North as effete, if not disregarded from the beginning, and its removal out of the way as but conforming the system of territorial law to that part of the Compromise of 1850 pertaining to the Territories, which left the adoption or rejection of slavery to be decided by the inhabitants when framing a constitution, preparatory to their admission as a State of the Union; not anticipating the recoil in public sentiment, which was the first step in the overthrow of slavery itself.
I have been thus tedious in the review of the history of this period because it was upon topics arising out of this great subject of controversy, ever uppermost in the public mind, that Mr. Badger made his most frequent and probably most elaborate efforts in the Senate, and for the further reason that in the heated atmosphere of the time his opinions as expressed and the moderation of his course were, by some, supposed to imply indifference to the interests of his section. Time and disaster are not unfrequently necessary to vindicate true wisdom.
He was as averse to the details of revenue and finance as Charles James Fox, and could probably have united with that statesman in the declaration that he had never read a treatise on political economy. But on all subjects pertaining to general policy, or to the history, jurisprudence, or Constitution of the country, he commanded a deference yielded to scarcely any other individual, after the withdrawal of Mr. Webster; and as a speaker and writer of English, according to the testimony of Judge Butler, of South Carolina, he had no peer in the Senate, save Webster.
He delighted in repeating the rule for the construction of the Constitution, which he had heard enunciated by Judge Marshall in the Circuit Court for North Carolina. "The Constitution of the United States," said he, "is to be construed not strictly, not loosely, but honestly. The powers granted should be freely exercised to effect the objects of the grant, while there should be a careful abstinence from the assumption of any not granted, but reserved." With this simple rule for his guide, with an innate love of truth and wonderful perspicacity in its discernment, with an ethics which permitted no paltering in deference to the authority or suggestion of faction, his arguments on constitutional questions were models of moral demonstration. Such was the confidence reposed in his accuracy and candor on questions of this nature, that his opinions were sought, for practical guidance, alike by friends and opponents. And such was the personal favor and kindness entertained towards him by all his associates that at the expiration of his term the rare compliment was paid him of expressing regret at his departure by an unanimous vote of the Senate.
After ceasing to be a Senator he held, until the commencement of the late calamitous war, the place of one of the Regents of the Smithsonian Institution. In his professional visits to Washington, until the interruption of intercourse by that dire event, and in all his correspondence with public men, he never departed from that course of moderation and peace on the exciting subject of the times which had characterized him as a Senator, joined heartily in the movement of his old Whig friends for the organization of a Constitutional Union party to abate the violence of faction which was too surely tending to disunion, and to make an appeal to the people to rescue the country from the impending peril. The result of this movement was the nomination of Bell and Everett for the first offices of the government; and Mr. Badger accepted the nomination for Elector on this ticket, and visited various parts of North Carolina, addressing the people in its support. In these addresses, with the frankness which belonged to his nature, he freely admitted that there was a strong probability of the election of Mr. Lincoln, not merely from a division of votes among three other candidates, but from the strength of his party in the Northern States, founded on the principle of opposition to slavery; and he charged, that in that event, it was the design of a large portion of the supporters of Mr. Breckinridge to attempt to destroy the Union by the secession of the Southern States, and that there was reason to believe his defeat and the election of Mr. Lincoln were desired by this latter class, because of the opportunity it would afford for a dissolution of the Union, a purpose which they had long cherished. While, therefore, he advocated the election of Mr. Bell, he conjured the people, no matter who might be elected, to acquiesce in the decision and give no countenance to secession. Although, with the exception of a small faction, the people were averse to disunion, the majority were persuaded that this was an overstatement of the case, and cast their votes for Mr. Breckinridge, as they usually did for the party nominee.
When the election was past, and the proceedings which immediately followed in other States verified Mr. Badger's anticipations, the people began to turn to him, and those of like opinions, for guidance in the future. And, to persons in distant parts of the Union, it is, no doubt, a matter of mystery how he, with all his antecedents in favor of Union, became involved in war against the Government of the United States. The case of Mr. Badger, in this particular, is the case of at least three-fourths of the people of the State (for they relied upon his counsels for their action quite as much as upon those of any other individual) and requires a word of explanation. Notwithstanding the long and acrimonious disputations which had been carried on in Congress and at the hustings, and the sentiments declared in opposition to slavery by Mr. Lincoln and his supporters, Mr. Badger maintained that his election afforded no sufficient cause for a resort to revolution—as to the right, claimed, of a State to secede, he had never for a moment believed in it or given it the least countenance—that the accession of such a party to power would require increased vigilance over the rights and interests of the South; but that the majority in Congress was not lost to us, if the members from all the Southern States would remain and be faithful, and that the judiciary was open to any just complaint, even if the Executive should attempt aggression. After every State south of North Carolina to the confines of Mexico had adopted ordinances of secession, the people of this State rejected a proposition to call a convention to consider the question.
But when Virginia, our neighbor on the northern frontier, also withdrew, and Tennessee on the west had taken measures for the same object, when war had been actually begun, no matter by whose rashness or folly, and the only alternatives presented were in the choice of the side we should espouse, considerations of national or State interest, safety and necessity (such as are not unfrequently forced upon the decision of neutrals by the conduct of belligerents not connected under the same government) at once occurred, and were obliged to be weighed with the obligations of constitutional duty. Our borders were surrounded on all sides, except that washed by the ocean, by seceded States. Our youth must go forth to battle with or against these States. The Union we had so long and so sincerely cherished, was a Union in its integrity; and next to that, and as a part of it, was a Union with neighboring States, in which were our kindred and most intimate friends, and identical institutions. Slavery, whatever may be thought of it elsewhere or now, constituted more than one-half of our individual and public wealth. It had paid our taxes, built our railroads, reared our seminaries of education and charity, and was intimately connected with the order and repose of our society. Withal, in the acrimony of a long quarrel, its maintenance had become a point of honor. In the actual posture of affairs, which promised to continue while the war lasted, instead of fifteen States in which slavery existed, whose Representatives were to maintain a common interest in the halls of Congress, there were to be but three, or at most, four, and all these, except our own, with a minor interest in the system. A civil war which threatened to be sanguinary and protracted, kindled avowedly for the protection of slavery, was not likely to end in the defeat of the insurgent States without the destruction of the institution in them, and after no long time, in the adhering States, also. Though far from approving the course of the recusant States, victory on the side of those who held the reins of government could not inure in benefit, nor without serious disaster, to us.
These ties of blood, vicinity, institutions and interests, the desire to avoid internecine strife among our own people (which must have been immediately precipitated by a zealous minority, with the local government, legislative and executive, in their hands) impelled Mr. Badger, and those who acted with him, to decline to take up arms against their own section in favor of the distant authority of the national government, and as a consequence to unite with those whose action they had deprecated and endeavored to prevent, and with whom they had had little sympathy or cooperation in the politics of the past. The support of the undertaking, if concurred in by all the slaveholding States, which was confidently represented to be certain, appeared to afford hope of a safer and better future than its suppression by force. The determination of the question, as I know, occasioned him pain and embarrassment, but when made it was firmly maintained. He accepted a seat in the Convention which passed the ordinance declaring the separation of the State from the Federal Union, and gave to this ordinance his sanction; not, however, without a distinct declaration of his disbelief in the doctrine of secession as a constitutional right. He also sustained measures for the prosecution of a vigorous war, as, in his conception, the surest and shortest way to peace, but was ever vigilant of the dignity and just rights of the State, the encroachments of the military authority, the jurisdiction of the civil tribunals and the protection and liberty of the citizens. He sought no patronage or favor for himself or his family. His sons served in the ranks of the army and bore their part in the perils and adventures of war.
While it yet raged, he was stricken by the hand of disease, which partially obscured his faculties and withdrew him from public view. He survived, however, until after the return of peace, and in the twilight of mind, with which he was yet favored, rejoiced in the deliverance of the country from the calamities of war, and very sincerely acquiesced in a return to his allegiance to the Government of the United States.
These observations on the professional and public life of the subject of our sketch have been so prolonged that the occasion will permit but a few further remarks upon his general attainments, his intellectual and moral character and usefulness as a citizen. It was the remark of Lord Bacon that "Reading makes a full man, conference a ready man, and writing an exact man." Mr. Badger's reading was confined, with the exception of the dead languages, which he had acquired in his youthful studies, to the literature of our own language. With the most approved authors in this he had a familiar acquaintance, and, as already remarked, excelled in the accomplishments of a critic. The field of learning, which next to jurisprudence he most affected, and perhaps even preferred to that, was moral science. Upon the sublime truths of this science, in the conversations with his friends, his remarks and illustrations were often not unworthy of Alexander or Wayland, Butler or Whately. "In it," says one of the most intimate of his friends and contemporaries, "the rapidity of his perception and accuracy of his deductions were marvelous. Place before his mind any proposition of moral science, and instantly he carried it out, either to exact truth, most beautifully enunciated, or reduced it to an absurdity." To his acquisitions in the kindred topic of didactic divinity, or theology as a science, only a professional theologian can do justice. An earnest member of the Protestant Episcopal Church, though but a layman, he ventured on more than one occasion to discuss matters of discipline and doctrine in the character of a pamphleteer, in opposition to clergymen of note, and in a memorable instance with the head of the diocese himself with such signal success that, although the Bishop ultimately united himself with the Romish Church, whither Mr. Badger charged that he was tending, not another member of his denomination left its communion.
He was averse to the labor of writing, and beyond an address before the Literary Societies of the University, the reports, by his own hand, of some of his speeches in Congress, and other pamphlets on subjects political or religious, has left few written performances. But he had the accuracy in thought and speech of a practiced writer.
In conversation he realized in the fullest sense Bacon's idea of readiness, and shone with a lustre rarely equaled. The activity and playfulness of his thoughts and the gayety of his disposition inclined him to paradox and repartee to such a degree that his conversation was oftentimes but amusing levity. But in a moment it rose to the profoundest reflection and most fascinating eloquence. His knowledge was ever at instantaneous command, as it was far more the result of his own meditations than of acquisition from others, and fancy lent her aid in giving a grandeur to his conceptions on all the subjects of his grave discourse. After all the public displays in which he enchained the attention of judges, jurors, senators, and promiscuous assemblies with equal admiration and delight, it is a matter for doubt, among those who knew him well, whether his brightest thoughts and most felicitous utterances, the versatility of his genius, and the vast range of his contemplations were not oftener witnessed in his boon and social hours, in the converse of friends, around his own hospitable board, or at the village inn, or on a public highway—all without pedantry or apparent effort, "as if he stooped to touch the loftiest thought"—than in these elaborate and studied exhibitions. He affected no mystery, and wore no mask, and stood ready in familiar colloquy to make good, by new and apt illustrations, any sentiment advanced in formal argument, or to abandon it as untenable if satisfied of error.
His reverence for truth, to which allusion has been already made in the course of these observations, was even above his intellectual powers, his most striking characteristic. He was accustomed to speak of it "as the most distinguished attribute of God himself, and the love of it as giving to one moral being an eminence above another." To its discovery he delighted to apply the powers of his remarkable intellect, to its influence he was ready to surrender his most cherished convictions whenever found to be erroneous.
The fruits of this were seen in the crowning virtues of his character: he was a Christian of humble and intelligent piety without intolerance toward others, a lawyer without chicanery or artifice, a statesman without being a factionist, a party man above the low arts of the demagogue, a gentleman and citizen enlightened, social, charitable, liberal, impressing his character upon the manners and morals of his times, ready to render aid in every good and noble work, and prompt to resist and repel any evil influence, no matter by what array of numbers, power or vitiated public opinion supported. I have known no man to whose moral courage may be more fitly applied the ideal of the Latin poet, as rendered in free translation:
"The man whose mind on virtue bent,
Pursues some greatly good intent
With undiverted aim,
Serene beholds the angry crowd,
Nor can their clamors fierce and loud
His stubborn honor tame.
Not the proud tyrant's fiercest threat,
Nor storms, that from their dark retreat
The rolling surges wake;
Not Jove's dread bolt that shakes the pole,
The firmer purpose of his soul
With all its power can shake."
In the latter years of his life, actuated by a desire to be useful in his day and generation, wherever opportunity and his ability might allow, he accepted the office of justice of the peace, an office which, to the honor of those who have filled it in North Carolina from the first organization of civil government until now, has ever been performed without pecuniary reward, and took considerable interest in administering justice in the County Courts of Wake, giving to this inferior tribunal the dignity and value of a Superior Court, to the great satisfaction of the bar and the public.
He was thrice married; first, as before mentioned, to the daughter of Governor Turner; second, to the daughter of Colonel William Polk, and third, to Mrs. Delia Williams, daughter of Sherwood Haywood, Esq., in each instance forming an alliance with an old family of the State, distinguished by public service and great personal worth from an early period. The last named lady, the worthy companion of his life for thirty years, who survives him as his widow, receives in her bereavement the condolence and sympathy, not merely of this community and State, but that of those in distant lands and in other States of the Union whom, not the lapse of years nor the excitement of intervening events, nor the fiery gulf of civil war shall separate from a friendship accorded to her and her departed husband, as representatives of the personal character, the society and domestic virtues of their native State in better days of the republic. By the two latter marriages he left numerous descendants.
While taking his accustomed walk at an early hour in the morning of January 5, 1863, he was prostrated by a paralytic stroke, near the mineral spring in the environs of the city of Raleigh, and although retaining his self-possession and ability to converse until assistance was kindly furnished, on the way home his mind wandered, and before reaching his residence his faculty of continuous speech deserted him, never again to return. His mental powers after a brief interval rallied, insomuch that he took pleasure in reading and in listening to the conversations of friends, whose visits afforded him much satisfaction; and, with assistance, he could walk for exercise in the open air; but was never afterwards able to command language, except for brief sentences, failing often in these to convey his full meaning. In this condition he lingered until the 11th of May, 1866, when, after a few days' illness from renewed attacks of the same nature, he expired, having recently completed his seventy-first year.
My task is done. I have endeavored but "to hold the mirror up to nature." If the image reflected appears, in any of its features, magnified, it was not so intended. Yet the memory of a friendship, dating back to kind offices and notice in my student-life, extending through all my active manhood, may not have been without its influence in giving color to the picture. But the character in our contemplation was of no ordinary proportions. At the bar of the State he wore the mantle of Gaston and Archibald Henderson for a much longer period than either, worthily and well, with no diminution of its honors. In the highest court of the Union he was the acknowledged compeer of Webster, Crittenden, Ewing, Johnson, Berrien, Walker and Cushing. That he did not sit in the highest seat of justice in the State and nation, as proposed successively by the Executive of each, is imputable to no deficiency or unworthiness for the station, his adversaries being judges. In the Senate, when Clay, Webster, and Calhoun still remained there, not to name others of scarcely inferior repute, he was among the foremost, upholding the rights of his own State and section with manliness and ability, but with candor, moderation, and true wisdom, which sought to harmonize conflicting elements and avert the calamities of civil strife. In morals he was inflexible, without stain or suspicion of vice; in manners and social intercourse, genial, frank, hospitable, with colloquial powers to instruct, amuse, and fascinate alike, and "with a heart open as day to melting charity." The fame of such a man is a source of natural and just pride to the people of the State. This sentiment is that which the poet describes in the Englishman, when he sings
"It is enough to satisfy the ambition of a private man,
That Chatham's language was his mother tongue,
And Wolfe's great name compatriot with his own."
How much he will be missed as a member of the community, as the friend of order and law, religion and morality, as a professional man, counsellor, and advocate of unrivalled ability and reputation, as an intellectual and cultivated man, with armor bright and powers ever at his command, presenting a model for the emulation of our ingenuous youth, as a public character, as adviser and true friend, but no flatterer of the people, and an unflinching supporter of their rights, wherever truth and duty might lead, time and experience may demonstrate. There is no public aspect, however, in which his loss is so much to be deplored as in the relation he bore to the past, and his probable efficiency in solving the problem of the day. Who so capable of interpreting the Constitution which forms our government, and the alleged laws of war by which it is claimed to be suspended or superseded, as that gifted mind and sincere nature, so trusted on these topics in former years, and so thoroughly imbued with the spirit and teachings of Marshall? Who so deserving to be heard on the best means of pacification and reestablishment of order and right among thirty-five millions of freemen as he who, by his temperance, calmness, and intelligent constitutional opinions, in the commencement of our national difficulties, incurred the censure of many in our own section of country, without receiving the approbation of their adversaries? Who so fitted for the exposure and correction of error, of allaying the ignoble passions of hatred and revenge, and rekindling the national affections inspired by a common and honorable history? Who so skillful to remove the scales from the eyes that will not see, and who so wise and brave to rebuke the age of faction, threatening to realize the assertion of Mr. Fox, in his history of James II., that "the most dangerous of all revolutions is a restoration?"
To that good Being, in whose hands are the destinies of nations and individuals, by whose divine agency crooked paths are often made straight and issue granted out of all troubles, in ways not visible to human eyes, let us unite in commending every interest of our beloved country.
The foregoing sketch, in the form of an address on the life and character of George E. Badger, was delivered in Raleigh, July 19, 1866, at the request of the Wake county bar. Though much of it is not strictly biographical, it is interesting on account of its distinguished author, as well as for giving us a view of the times and events discussed.
The address delivered by Mr. Badger at the State University in June, 1833, before the two Literary Societies, is said, by those who heard him on other occasions, not to afford a fair illustration of his great powers as a speaker. He was in fact never a florid orator, powerful to move the passions above reason, but his mind was so clear, his manner so unhesitating, his knowledge so great, his flow of language so easy, his memory so accurate, and his presence so commanding that he was bound to make a powerful impression whenever he spoke to men in public or in private.
He was not greatest as a statesman—he had his run in the technical learning of the law too long—statesmen must be early and specially trained and educated in the business of statecraft.
He was too reserved, austere at times, and perhaps sensitive, ever to win the affections of men in the same proportion that his great talents commanded their respect and admiration.
His short tribute to Judge Gaston, hereto subjoined, is valuable for the purpose for which it was uttered, and as a fair sample of his style, showing his choice of words, in easy command, when occasion called them forth. Judge Gaston died in January, 1844, and, at the meeting held in honor of his memory, Mr. Badger said: "This meeting of the members of the bar of the Supreme Court has learned with profound grief the melancholy and totally unexpected bereavement which the Court and the country have sustained in the death of the Hon. William Gaston. Struck down suddenly by the hand of God, in the midst of his judicial labors, dying as he had lived in the enlightened and devoted service of his country, endued by learning and adorned by eloquence with their choicest gifts, enobled by that pure integrity and firm and undeviating pursuit of right which only an ardent and animating religious faith can bestow and adequately sustain, and endeared to the hearts of all that knew him by those virtues which diffuse over the social circle all that is cheerful, refined, and benevolent, he has left behind him a rare and happy memory, dear alike to his brethren, his friends, and his country."
Governor Graham undertakes to set forth Mr. Badger's reasons for finally favoring the secession of North Carolina from the Union, but the reader will see from the subjoined resolutions that it is best to allow Mr. Badger to speak for himself. He and the people of North Carolina then assumed as axiomatic that Lincoln's call for troops to invade the South was utterly without warrant of law. Strong as was the language of the resolutions, it was not strong enough to express the indignation of the people at Lincoln's usurping the authority to begin the war on his sole responsibility. Not mainly because the institution of slavery was threatened, nor yet because we were wedged between seceding States, but because the people, as one man, believed that the most vital powers of a government of three departments had been violently seized by the Executive, that the seizure was supported by a conspiracy of States, and that the Constitution and the Union of the fathers were already outraged and dismembered.
The resolutions above alluded to, and a part of the speech delivered in the United States Senate, March 19, 1850, instructive in themselves, are given also as specimens of Mr. Badger's style.