Statesmen, both, of long career, marked ability, and unblemished integrity,—acting together at first,—sitting in the same Cabinet, from which they passed, one to become Vice-President, and the other President,—then, for the remainder of their days, battling in Congress, and dying there,—each was a leader in life, but each is now in death a greater leader still.
Mr. Calhoun possessed an intellect of much originality and boldness, and, though wanting the culture of a scholar, made himself felt in council and in debate. To native powers unlike, but not inferior, Mr. Adams added the well-ripened fruits of long experience in foreign lands and of studies more various and complete than those of any other public man in our history, besides an indomitable will, and that spirit of freedom which inspired his father, when, in the Continental Congress, he so eloquently maintained the Declaration of Independence, making himself its Colossus on that floor.
Sitting together in the Cabinet of Mr. Monroe, they concurred in sanctioning the Missouri Prohibition of Slavery as constitutional, and so advised the President. But here divergence probably began, though for a long time not made manifest. The diary of Mr. Adams shows that at that early day, when Slavery had been little discussed, he saw its enormity with instinctive quickness, and described it with corresponding force. The record is less full with regard to Mr. Calhoun; but when they reappeared, one in the Senate, and the other in the House of Representatives, each openly assumed the position by which he will be known in history,—one as chief in all the pretensions of Slavery and Slave-Masters, the other as champion of Freedom.
Mr. Calhoun regarded Slavery as a permanent institution; Mr. Adams regarded it as something transitory. Mr. Calhoun vaunted it as a form of civilization; Mr. Adams scorned it as an unquestionable barbarism. Mr. Calhoun did not hesitate to call it the most stable basis of free government; Mr. Adams vehemently denounced it as a curse, full of weakness and mockery, doubly offensive in a boastful Republic. Mr. Calhoun, not content with exalting Slavery, proceeded to condemn the early opinions of Washington and Jefferson as “folly and delusion,” to assail the self-evident truths of the Declaration of Independence as “absurd,” and then to proclaim that human beings are “property” under the Constitution, and, as such, may be transported into the Territories and there held in Slavery; while Mr. Adams added to the glory of his long and diversified career by persistent efforts which are better for his fame than having been President,—upholding the great rights of petition and of speech,—vindicating the early opinions of the Fathers, and the self-evident truths of the Declaration of Independence,—exposing the odious character of Slavery,—insisting upon its prohibition in the Territories,—denying the asserted property in man,—and especially, and often, exhibiting the unjust power in the National Government usurped by what he called “the little cluster” of Slave-Masters, whose yoke was to him intolerable.
Such, most briefly told, were antagonist opinions of these two chiefs. Never was great conflict destined to involve a great country more distinctly foreshadowed. All that the Republican party now opposes may be found in John C. Calhoun; all that the Republican party now maintains may be found in John Quincy Adams. Choose ye, fellow-citizens, between the two.
The rule of “Principles and not Men” is hardly applicable to a man whose name, bearing the sacred seal of death, has become the synonym of Principle; yet I do not hesitate to say that our cause is best appreciated in its precise objects and aims. Proud as we are to tread where John Quincy Adams leads the way, there is a guide of more commanding authority—found in the eternal law of Right, and the concurring mandate of the Constitution itself, when properly interpreted—that teaches the duties of a good citizen. Such is the guide of the Republican party, which, I say fearlessly, where most known, will be most trusted, and, when understood in its origin, will be seen to be no accidental or fugitive organization, merely for an election, but an irresistible necessity, which in the nature of things must be permanent as the pretensions, moral and political, which it seeks to constrain and counteract.
All must admit, too, that, if no Republican party existed now,—even if that halcyon day had come, so often promised by cajoling politicians, when the Slavery Question was settled,—still there would be a political necessity for a great party of Opposition to act as check on the Administration. A kindred necessity was once expressed by an eminent British statesman, who gave as a toast, “A strong Administration and a strong Opposition.” Parties are unknown in despotic countries. They belong to the machinery of free governments. Through parties public opinion is concentrated and directed; through parties principles are maintained above men; and through parties men in power are held to a just responsibility. If ever there was occasion for such a party, it is now, when the corruptions of the Administration are dragged to light by Committees of Congress. On this ground alone good men might be summoned to rescue the government of our country.
It is an attested fact that Mr. Buchanan became President through corruption. Money, familiarly known as a “corruption fund,” first distilled in small drippings from clerks and petty officials, was swollen by larger contributions of merchants and contractors, and with this accumulation votes were purchased in Philadelphia, enough to turn the election in that great metropolis, and in the chain of cause and effect to assure the triumph of the Democratic candidate. I speak now only what is proved. Fraudulent naturalization papers in blank, by which this was perpetrated, were produced before a Committee of Congress. It was natural that an Administration thus corrupt in origin should continue to exercise power through the same corruption by which power was gained; but nothing else than that insensibility to acts of shame produced by familiarity can explain how all this has been done with such absolute indecency of exposure, so as to recall the words of the poet,—
“How use doth breed a habit in a man!”