Thank God for what is already done, and let us all take heart as we go forward to uphold this great edict! For myself, I accept the Proclamation without note or comment. It is enough for me, that, in the exercise of the War Power, it strikes at the origin and mainspring of this Rebellion; for I have never concealed the conviction that it matters little where we strike Slavery, provided only that we strike sincerely and in earnest. So is it all connected, that the whole must suffer with every part, and the words of the poet will be verified, that,—
“whatever link you strike,
Tenth or ten thousandth, breaks the chain alike.”
On this most interesting occasion, so proper for gratitude, it is difficult to see anything but the cause; and yet, appearing before you on the invitation of a Committee of the Commonwealth, I must not forget that I owe this privilege to my public character as Senator of Massachusetts. In this character I have often been invited before; but now the invitation has more than accustomed significance; for, at the close of a long period of public service, it brings me face to face with my constituents. In a different condition of the country, I could not decline the opportunity of reviewing the relations between us,—of showing, at least, how you took me from private station, all untried, and gave me one of your highest trusts, and how this trust was enhanced by the generosity with which you sustained me against obloquy and vindictive assault, especially by your unparalleled indulgence to me throughout a protracted disability,—and perhaps, might I be so bold, of presenting for your consideration some sketch of what I have attempted, conscious, that, if not always successful, I have been at all times faithful to cherished convictions, and faithful also to your interests, sparing nothing of time or effort, and making up by industry for any lack of ability, so that, during a service of more than eleven years, I have never once visited home while Congress was in session, or been absent for a single day, unless when suffering from that disability to which I have referred, and during the session which has just closed, filled with most laborious duties from beginning to end, I was not out of my seat a single hour. But this is no time for such a review. I have no heart for it, while my country is in danger. And yet I shall not lose the occasion to challenge the scrutiny of all, even here in this commercial metropolis, where the interests of business are sometimes placed above all other interests. Frankly and fearlessly I make my appeal. In all simplicity, I ask you to consider what I have done as your servant, whether in the Senate or out of the Senate, in matters of legislation or of business. If there is any one disposed to criticize or complain, let him be heard. Let the whole record be opened, and let any of the numerous visitors who have sought me on business testify. I know too well the strength of my case to shrink from any inquiry, even though stimulated by the animosity of political warfare.[112]
But there are two accusations, often repeated, to which I reply on the spot; and I do so with less hesitation, because the topics are germane to this debate. The first is, that from my place in the Senate I early proclaimed Slavery to be Barbarism. Never shall the cause of Freedom go by default, if I can help it; and I rejoice, that, on that occasion, in presence of the slaveholding conspirators vaunting the ennobling character of Slavery, I used no soft words. It is true, that, in direct reply to most offensive assumptions, I proclaimed Slavery barbarous in origin, barbarous in law, barbarous in all its pretensions, barbarous in the instruments it employs, barbarous in consequences, barbarous in spirit, barbarous wherever it shows itself,—while it breeds barbarians, and develops everywhere, alike in the individual and the society to which he belongs, the essential elements of barbarism. It is true, that, on the same occasion, I portrayed Slavery as founded in violence and sustained only by violence, and declared that such a wrong must, by sure law of compensation, blast the master as well as the slave, blast the land on which they live, blast the community of which they are part, blast the government which does not forbid the outrage, and the longer it exists, and the more completely it prevails, must its blasting influence penetrate the whole social system. Was I not right? Since then the testimony is overwhelming. A committee of the Senate has made a report, extensively circulated, on the barbarities of this Rebellion. You know the whole story to which each day testifies. It is in some single incident that you see the low-water mark of social life; and I know nothing in which the barbarism of Slavery is more completely exhibited than in the fate of our brave soldiers, dug up from honorable graves, where at last they had found rest, that their bones might be carved into keepsakes and their skulls into drinking-cups to gratify the malignant hate of Slave-Masters.
The other accusation is similar in character. It is said that I have too often introduced the Slavery Question. At this moment, seeing what Slavery has done, I doubt if you will not rather say that I have introduced it too seldom. If, on this account, I neglected any single interest of my constituents, if I was less strenuous whenever foreign relations or manufactures or commerce or finances were involved, if I failed to take my part in all that concerns the people of Massachusetts and in all embraced within the manifold duties of a Senator, then, indeed, I might be open to condemnation. But you will not regret that your representative, faithful in all other things, was ever constant and earnest against Slavery, and that he announced from the beginning the magnitude of the question, and our duties with regard to it. Say what you will, the slave is the humblest and the grandest figure of our times. What humility! what grandeur! both alike illimitable! In his presence all other questions are so petty, that for a public man to be wrong with regard to him is to be wholly wrong. How, then, did I err? The cause would have justified a better pertinacity than I can boast. In the Senate of Rome, the elder Cato, convinced that peace was possible only by the destruction of Carthage, concluded all his speeches, on every matter of debate, by the well-known words: “But whatever you may think of the question under consideration, this I know, Carthage must be destroyed.” I have never read that the veteran Senator was condemned for the constancy of his patriotic appeal. With stronger reason far, I, too, might always have cried, “This I know, Slavery must be destroyed,”—Delenda est Servitudo. But, while seeking to limit and constrain Slavery, I never proposed anything except in strictest conformity with the Constitution; for I always recognized the Constitution as my guide, which I was bound in all respects to follow.[113]
Such are accusations to which I briefly reply. Now that we are all united in the policy of Emancipation, they become of little consequence; for, even if I were once alone, I am no longer so. With me are the loyal multitudes of the North, now arrayed by the side of the President, where, indeed, I have ever been.