"Be it enacted, by the General Assembly of Maryland, that the representatives of this state in the House of Representatives of the Congress of the United States, appointed to assemble at New-York, on the first Wednesday of March next, be, and they are hereby authorized and required on the behalf of this state, to cede to the Congress of the United States, any district in this state, not exceeding ten miles square, which the Congress may fix upon, and accept for the seat of government of the United States." Laws of Maryland, vol. 2, chap. 46.
The cession from Virginia was made by act of the Legislature of that State on the 3d of December, 1788, in the following words:
"Be it enacted by the General Assembly, That a tract of country, not exceeding ten miles square, or any lesser quantity, to be located within the limits of the State, and in any part thereof, as Congress may, by law, direct, shall be, and the same is hereby for ever ceded and relinquished to the Congress and Government of the United States, in full and absolute right, and exclusive jurisdiction, as well of soil, as of persons residing or to reside thereon, pursuant to the tenor and effect of the eighth section of the first article of the government of the constitution of the United States."
But were there no provisos to these acts? The Maryland act had none. That part of the District therefore, which includes the cities of Washington and Georgetown, can lay claim to nothing with which to ward off the power of Congress. The Virginia act had this proviso: "Sect. 2. Provided, that nothing herein contained, shall be construed to vest in the United States any right of property in the soil, or to affect the rights of individuals therein, otherwise than the same shall or may be transferred by such individuals to the United States."
This specification touching the soil was merely definitive and explanatory of that clause in the act of cession, "full and absolute right." Instead of restraining the power of Congress on slavery and other subjects, it even gives it wider scope; for exceptions to parts of a rule, give double confirmation to those parts not embraced in the exceptions. If it was the design of the proviso to restrict congressional action on the subject of slavery, why is the soil alone specified? As legal instruments are not paragons of economy in words, might not "John Doe," out of his abundance, and without spoiling his style, have afforded an additional word—at least a hint—that slavery was meant, though nothing was said about it? The subject must have been too "delicate," even for the most distant allusion! The mystery of silence is solved!!
But again, Maryland and Virginia, in their acts of cession, declare them to be "in pursuance of" that clause of the constitution which gives to Congress "exclusive legislation in all cases whatsoever over" the ten miles square—thus, instead of restricting that clause, both States gave an express and decided confirmation of it. Now, their acts of cession either accorded with that clause of the constitution, or they conflicted with it. If they conflicted with it, accepting the cessions was a violation of the constitution. If they accorded, the objector has already had his answer. The fact that Congress accepted the cessions, proves that in its view their terms did not conflict with the constitutional grant of "power to exercise exclusive legislation in all cases whatsoever over such District." The inquiry whether these acts of cession were consistent or inconsistent with the United States constitution, is totally irrelevant to the question at issue. What saith the CONSTITUTION? That is the question. Not, what saith Virginia, or Maryland, or—equally to the point—John Bull! If Maryland and Virginia had been the authorized interpreters of the constitution for the Union, these acts of cession could hardly have been magnified more than they were by Messrs. Garland and Wise in the last Congress. A true understanding of the constitution can be had, forsooth, only by holding it up in the light of Maryland and Virginia legislation!
We are told, again, that those States would not have ceded the District if they had supposed the constitution gave Congress power to abolish slavery in it.
This comes with an ill grace from Maryland and Virginia. They knew the constitution. They were parties to it. They had sifted it, clause by clause, in their State conventions. They had weighed its words in the balance—they had tested them as by fire; and finally, after long pondering, they adopted the constitution. And afterward, self-moved, they ceded the ten miles square, and declared the cession made "in pursuance of" that oft-cited clause, "Congress shall have power to exercise exclusive legalisation in all cases whatsoever over such District," &c. And now verily "they would not have ceded if they had supposed!" &c. Cede it they did, and "in full and absolute right both of soil and persons." Congress accepted the cession—state power over the District ceased, and congressional power over it commenced—and now, the sole question to be settled is, the amount of power over the District, lodged in Congress by the constitution. The constitution—the CONSTITUTION—that is the point. Maryland and Virginia "suppositions" must be potent suppositions, to abrogate a clause in the United States Constitution! That clause either gives Congress power to abolish slavery in the District, or it does not—and that point is to be settled, not by state "suppositions," nor state usages, nor state legislation, but by the terms of the clause themselves.
Southern members of Congress, in the recent discussions, have conceded the power of a contingent abolition in the District, by suspending it upon the consent of the people. Such a doctrine from declaimers like Messrs. Alford, of Georgia, and Walker, of Mississippi, would excite no surprise; but that it should be honored with the endorsement of such men as Mr. Rives and Mr. Calhoun, is quite unaccountable. Are attributes of sovereignty mere creatures of contingency? Is delegated authority mere conditional permission? Is a constitutional power to be exercised by those who hold it, only by popular sufferance? Must it lie helpless at the pool of public sentiment, waiting the gracious troubling of its waters? Is it a lifeless corpse, save only when popular "consent" deigns to put breath into its nostrils? Besides, if the consent of the people of the District be necessary, the consent of the whole people must be had—not that of a majority, however large. Majorities, to be authoritative, must be legal—and a legal majority without legislative power, right of representation, or even the electoral franchise, would be an anomaly. In the District of Columbia, such a thing as a majority in a legal sense is unknown to law. To talk of the power of a majority, or the will of a majority there, is mere mouthing. A majority? Then it has an authoritative will—and an organ to make it known—and an executive to carry it into effect—Where are they? We repeat it—if the consent of the people of the District be necessary, the consent of every one is necessary—and universal consent will come only with the Greek Kalends and a "perpetual motion." A single individual might thus perpetuate slavery in defiance of the expressed will of a whole people. The most common form of this fallacy is given by Mr. Wise, of Virginia, in his speech, February 16, 1835, in which he denied the power of Congress to abolish slavery in the District, unless the inhabitants owning slaves petitioned for it!! Southern members of Congress at the present session ring changes almost daily upon the same fallacy. What! pray Congress to use a power which it has not? "It is required of a man according to what he hath," saith the Scripture. I commend Mr. Wise to Paul for his ethics. Would that he had got his logic of him! If Congress does not possess the power, why taunt it with its weakness, by asking its exercise? Why mock it by demanding impossibilities? Petitioning, according to Mr. Wise, is, in matters of legislation, omnipotence itself; the very source of all constitutional power; for, asking Congress to do what it cannot do, gives it the power—to pray the exercise of a power that is not, creates it. A beautiful theory! Let us work it both ways. If to petition for the exercise of a power that is not, creates it—to petition against the exercise of a power that is, annihilates it. As southern gentlemen are partial to summary processes, pray, sirs, try the virtue of your own recipe on "exclusive legislation in all cases whatsoever;" a better subject for experiment and test of the prescription could not be had. But if the petitions of the citizens of the District give Congress the right to abolish slavery, they impose the duty; if they confer constitutional authority, they create constitutional obligation. If Congress may abolish because of an expression of their will, it must abolish at the bidding of that will. If the people of the District are a source of power to Congress, their expressed will has the force of a constitutional provision, and has the same binding power upon the National Legislature. To make Congress dependent on the District for authority, is to make it a subject of its authority, restraining the exercise of its own discretion, and sinking it into a mere organ of the District's will. We proceed to another objection.
"The southern states would not have ratified the constitution, if they had supposed that it gave this power." It is a sufficient answer to this objection, that the northern states would not have ratified it, if they had supposed that it withheld the power. If "suppositions" are to take the place of the constitution—coming from both sides, they neutralize each other. To argue a constitutional question by guessing at the "suppositions" that might have been made by the parties to it, would find small favor in a court of law. But even a desperate shift is some easement when sorely pushed. If this question is to be settled by "suppositions," suppositions shall be forth coming, and that without stint.