Last in order of alphabet is the Douglas party, whose single cry is “Popular Sovereignty”; last also in character,—for who can respect what we know to be a deceit? The statesman founds himself on principles; sometimes it is his office to frame expedients; but Popular Sovereignty, as now put forward, is not a principle,—oh, no! not even an expedient; it is nothing but a device, a pretext, an evasion, a dodge, a trick, in order to avoid the commanding question, whether Slavery shall be prohibited in the Territories. That is all.
All hail to Popular Sovereignty in its true glory! This is the grand principle, first announced in the Declaration of Independence, which is destined to regenerate the world. It is embodied in those famous words, adopted by the Republican Convention at Chicago, that among the unalienable rights of all men are “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness,” and that “to secure these rights governments are instituted among men, deriving their just powers from the consent of the governed.” These are sacred words, full of life-giving energy. Not simply national independence was here proclaimed, but also the primal rights of all mankind. Then and there appeared the Angel of Human Liberation, speaking and acting at once with heaven-born strength,—breaking bolts, unloosing bonds, and opening prison-doors,—always ranging on its mighty errand, wherever there are any, no matter of what country or race, who struggle for rights denied,—now cheering Garibaldi at Naples, as it had cheered Washington in the snows of Valley Forge,—and especially visiting all who are down-trodden, whispering that there is none so poor as to be without rights which every man is bound to respect.
“The affrighted gods confessed their awful lord;
They dropped the fetters, trembled, and adored.”[170]
None so degraded as to be beneath its beneficent reach, none so lofty as to be above its restraining power; while before it Despotism and Oligarchy fall on their faces, like the image of Dagon, and the people everywhere begin to govern themselves. Such is the Popular Sovereignty proclaimed by the Declaration of Independence.
But the Great Declaration, not content with announcing certain rights as unalienable, and therefore beyond the control of any government, still further, restrains the sovereignty, which it asserts, by simply declaring that the United States have “full power to do all acts and things which independent states may OF RIGHT do.” Here is a well-defined limitation upon Popular Sovereignty. The dogma of Tory lawyers and pamphleteers—put forward to sustain the claim of Parliamentary omnipotence, and vehemently espoused by Dr. Johnson in his “Taxation no Tyranny”—was, openly, that sovereignty is in its nature illimitable, precisely as is now loosely professed by Mr. Douglas for his handful of squatters. But this dogma is distinctly discarded in the Declaration, and it is frankly proclaimed that all sovereignty is subordinate to the rule of Right. Mark, now, the difference. All existing governments at that time, even the local governments of the Colonies, stood on Power, without limitation. Here was a new government, which, taking its place among the nations, announced that it stood only on Right, and claimed no sovereignty inconsistent with Right. Such, again, is the Popular Sovereignty of the Declaration of Independence.
And yet this transcendent principle is now degraded into a “dodge,” and the sacred name of Popular Sovereignty is prostituted to cover the claim of a master over his slave. It is urged that a handful of squatters may rightfully decide this claim, and the time-honored traditional power of Congress over Slavery in the Territories is denied or voted down. To protect this “villany,” as John Wesley would call it, the right of the people to govern themselves is invoked,—forgetful that this divine right can give no authority to enslave others, that even the people are not omnipotent, and that never do they rise so high as when, recognizing the everlasting laws of Right, they bend to the behests of Justice.
Though bearing the name of Mr. Douglas, and now peddled through the country by him, this contrivance is not of his invention. It comes from an older head. It first showed itself in the Nicholson Letter of 1847, by which General Cass, as Presidential candidate, sought to avoid the Wilmot Proviso. Laborious, studious, exemplary in private life, and fertile in pretexts, this venerable character has afforded the formula by which men have voted for Slavery, while making professions for Freedom. He is author of the artifice—rejected by every Slave-Master, and rejected by every lover of Freedom, whose eyes are open—which, under the nickname of Squatter Sovereignty, has been the device of doughfaces, enabling them sometimes to deceive the public and sometimes even to deceive themselves. Owing to the peculiar condition of opinion at that time, not yet stiffened against the compromise of Human Rights, his very vacillation put him in harmony with the public, and gave him a commanding position. Once for the Wilmot Proviso, which asserted the power of Congress over the Territories, and then for a pretended Popular Sovereignty, which denied this power, he became the pendulum between Freedom and Slavery, and, thus swinging, imparted motion to a sham Democracy.