And now, while I think, that, since our labors began, weeks, even months, have passed, and that the term is already reached, when, according to the just expectations and earnest desires of many, they should be closed, I feel that acts rather than words, that votes rather than speeches,—at least such as I might hope to make,—are needed here, to the end that the Convention, seasonably and effectively completing its beneficent work, may itself be hailed as a Great Act in the history of the Commonwealth.

But the magnitude of this question justifies debate; and allow me to add, that the State, our common mother, may feel proud of the ability, the eloquence, and the good temper with which it has thus far been conducted. Gentlemen have addressed the Convention in a manner which would grace any assembly that it has been my fortune to know, at home or abroad. Sir, the character of these proceedings gives new assurance for the future. The alarmist, who starts at every suggestion of change, and the croaker, who augurs constant evil from the irresistible tendency of events, must confess that there are men here to whose intelligence and patriotism, under God, the interests of our beloved Commonwealth may well be intrusted. Yes, Sir, Massachusetts is safe. Whatever the result even of the present important question, whichsoever scheme of representation may be adopted, Massachusetts will continue to prosper as in times past.

In the course of human history, two States, small in territory, have won enviable renown by genius and devotion to Freedom, so that their very names awaken echoes: I refer to Athens and Scotland. But Athens,—even at Salamis, repelling the Persian host, or afterwards, in the golden days of Pericles,—and Scotland, throughout her long struggle with England, down to the very Act of Union at the beginning of the last century,—were each inferior, in population and wealth, to Massachusetts at this moment. It belongs to us, according to our capacities, to see that this comparison does not end here. Others may believe that our duty is best accomplished by standing still. I like to believe that it can be completely done only by constant, incessant advance in all things,—in knowledge, in science, in art, and lastly in government itself, destined to be the bright consummation, on earth, of all knowledge, all science, and all art.


In framing our Constitution anew, we encounter a difficulty which at its original formation, in 1780, perplexed our fathers,—which perplexed the Convention of 1820,—which with its perplexities has haunted successive Legislatures and the whole people down to this day,—and which now perplexes us. This difficulty occurs in determining the Representative System, and proceeds mainly from the corporate claims of towns. From an early period in the State, towns, both great and small, with slight exceptions, have sent one or more representatives to the Legislature. In primitive days, when towns were few and the whole population was scanty, this arrangement was convenient at least, if not equitable. But now, with the increased number of towns, and the unequal distribution of a large population, it has become inconvenient, if not inequitable. The existing system does not work well, and we are summoned to reform it.

And here, Sir, let me congratulate the Convention, that, on this most important question, transcending every other, all of us, without distinction of party, are in favor of reform. All are Reformers. The existing system finds no advocate on this floor. Nobody here will do it reverence. If the call of the Convention were not already amply vindicated, if there were doubt anywhere of its expediency, the remarkable concurrence of all sides in condemning the existing representative system shows that we have not come together without cause.

The orders of the day have been filled with various plans to meet the exigency. Most of these aimed to preserve the corporate representation of towns; some of them, at least one from the venerable gentleman from Taunton [Mr. Morton], and another from the venerable gentleman from Boston [Mr. Hale], favored an opposite system, hitherto untried among us, and proposed to divide the State into districts. The question has been between these hostile propositions; and that is the question which I propose to consider, in the light of history and abstract principle, as also with reference to present exigencies. I shall speak, first, of the origin and nature of the Representative System, and its proper character under American institutions; and, secondly, I shall endeavor to indicate the principles which may conduct us to a practical conclusion in the present debate. Entering upon this service at so late a stage of the discussion, I feel like a tardy gleaner in a well-traversed field; but I shall proceed.

I.

I begin with the Origin and Nature of the Representative System. This is an invention of modern times. In antiquity there were republics and democracies, but there was no Representative System. Rulers were chosen by the people, as in many Commonwealths; senators were designated by the king or by the censors, as in Rome; ambassadors or legates were sent to a Federal Council, as to the Assembly of the Amphictyons; but in no ancient state was any body of men ever constituted by the people to represent them in the administration of their internal affairs. In Athens, the people met in public assembly, and directly acted for themselves on all questions, foreign or domestic. This was possible there, as the State was small, and the Assembly seldom exceeded five thousand citizens,—a large town-meeting, or mass-meeting, we might call it,—not inaptly termed "that fierce democratie" of Athens.

But where the territory was extensive, and the population scattered and numerous, there could be no assembly of the whole body of citizens. To meet this precise difficulty the Representative System was devised. By a machinery so obvious that we are astonished it was not employed in the ancient Commonwealths, the people, though scattered and numerous, are gathered, by their chosen representatives, into a small and deliberative assembly, where, without tumult or rashness, they consider and determine all questions which concern them. In every representative body, properly constituted, the people are practically present.