To loose mad horses from the chaise,
And save the necks within.”[216]
Such is the impossible contrivance now attempted. Nothing is clearer than that this pretension, if acknowledged, leaves to every State the right to play the “mad horse,” with very little chance of saving anything. It takes from the Government not merely unity, but all security of national life, and reduces it to the shadow of a name, or, at best, a mere tenancy at will,—an unsubstantial form, to be decomposed at the touch of a single State. Of course, such an anarchical pretension, so instinct with all the lawlessness of Slavery, must be encountered peremptorily. It is not enough to declare dissent. We must so conduct as not to give it recognition or foothold. [Applause.]
Instead of scouting this pretension, and utterly spurning it, new concessions to Slavery were gravely propounded as the means of pacification,—like a new sacrifice offered to an obscene divinity. It was argued, that in this way the Border States at least might be preserved to the Union, and some of the Cotton States perhaps won back to duty: in other words, that, in consideration of such concessions, these States would consent to waive a present exercise of the pretended right of secession. Against all such propositions, without considering their character, stands on the threshold one obvious and imperative objection. It is clear that the very bargain or understanding, whether express or implied, is a recognition of this pretended right, and that a State yielding only to such appeal, and detained through concessions, practically asserts the claim, and holds it for future exercise. Thus a concession called small becomes infinite; for it concedes the pretended right of secession, and makes the permanence of the National Government impossible. Amidst all the grave responsibilities of the hour, we must take care that the life of the Republic is sacredly preserved. But this would be sacrificed at once, did we submit its existence to the conditions proposed.
Looking at these concessions, I have always found them utterly unreasonable and indefensible. I should not expose them now, if they did not testify constantly to the Origin and Mainspring of this Rebellion. Slavery was always the single subject-matter, and nothing else. Slavery was not only an integral part of every concession, but the single integer. The one idea was to give some new security, in some form, to Slavery. That brilliant statesman, Mr. Canning, in one of those eloquent speeches which charm so much by style, said that he was “tired of being a security-grinder”; but his experience was not comparable to ours. “Security-grinding,” in the name of Slavery, has been for years the way in which we have wrestled with this conspiracy. [Laughter and applause.]
The propositions at the last Congress began with the President’s Message, which in itself was one tedious concession. You cannot forget his sympathetic portraiture of the disaffection throughout the Slave States, or his testimony to the cause. Notoriously and shamefully his heart was with the conspirators, and he knew intimately the mainspring of their conduct. He proposed nothing short of general surrender; and thus did he proclaim Slavery as the head and front, the very causa causans, of the whole crime.
Nor have you forgotten the Peace Conference, as it was delusively styled, convened at Washington on the summons of Virginia, with John Tyler in the chair, where New York, as well as Massachusetts, was represented by her ablest and most honored citizens. The sessions were with closed doors; but it is now known that throughout the proceedings, lasting for weeks, nothing was discussed but Slavery. And the propositions finally adopted by the Convention were confined to Slavery. Forbearing all detail, it will be enough to say that they undertook to provide positive protection for Slavery under the Constitution, with new sanction and immunity,—making it, notwithstanding the determination of our fathers, national instead of sectional; and even more, making it an essential and permanent part of our republican system. Slavery is sometimes deceitful, as at other times bold; and these propositions were still further offensive from their studied uncertainty, amounting to positive duplicity. At a moment when frankness was needed above all things, we were treated to phrases pregnant with doubt and controversy, and were gravely asked, in the name of Slavery, to embody them in the National Constitution.
There was another string of propositions much discussed during the last winter, which acquired the name of the venerable Senator from whom they came,—Mr. Crittenden, of Kentucky. These also related to Slavery, and nothing else. They were more obnoxious even than those from the Peace Conference. And yet there were petitioners from the North, even from Massachusetts, who prayed for this great surrender. Considering the character of these propositions,—that they sought to change the Constitution in a manner revolting to the moral sense, to foist into its very body the idea of property in man, to protect Slavery in all present territory south of 36° 30´, and to carry it into all territory hereafter acquired south of that line, and thus to make our beautiful Stars and Stripes in their southern march the flag of infamy,—considering that they provided new constitutional securities for Slavery in the national capital and in other places within the exclusive national jurisdiction, new constitutional securities for the transit of slaves from State to State, opening the way to a roll-call of slaves at the foot of Bunker Hill or the door of Faneuil Hall, and also the disfranchisement of nearly ten thousand of my fellow-citizens in Massachusetts, whose rights are fixed by the Constitution of that Commonwealth, drawn by John Adams,—considering these things, I felt at the time, and I still feel, that the best apology of these petitioners was that they were ignorant of their true character, and that in signing the petition they knew not what they did. But even in their ignorance they bore witness to Slavery, while the propositions were the familiar voice of Slavery, crying, “Give! give!”
There was another single proposition from still another quarter, but, like all the rest, it related exclusively to Slavery. It was to insert in the text of the Constitution a stipulation against any future amendment authorizing Congress to interfere with Slavery in the States. If you read this proposition, you will find it crude and ill-shaped,—a jargon of bad grammar, a jumble and hodge-podge of words,—harmonizing poorly with the accurate text of our Constitution. But even if tolerable in form, it was obnoxious, like the rest, as a fresh stipulation in favor of Slavery. Sufficient, surely, in this respect, is the actual Constitution. Beyond this I cannot I will not go. What Washington, Franklin, Madison, and Hamilton would not insert we cannot err in rejecting. [Applause.]
I do not dwell on other propositions, because they attracted less attention; and yet among these was one to overturn the glorious safeguards of Freedom set up in the Free States, known as the Personal Liberty Laws. Here again was Slavery—with a vengeance.