A CAVEAT.
There is one other point on which I file my caveat. This treaty must not be a precedent for a system of indiscriminate and costly annexion. Sincerely believing that republican institutions under the primacy of the United States must embrace this whole continent, I cannot adopt the sentiment of Jefferson, who, while confessing satisfaction in settlements on the Pacific coast, saw there in the future nothing but “free and independent Americans,” bound to the United States only by “ties of blood and interest,” without political unity,[31]—or of Webster, who in the same spirit said of settlers there, “They will raise a standard for themselves, and they ought to do it.”[32] Nor am I willing to restrict myself to the principle so tersely expressed by Andrew Jackson, in his letter to President Monroe: “Concentrate our population, confine our frontier to proper limits, until our country, to those limits, is filled with a dense population.”[33] But I cannot disguise my anxiety that every stage in our predestined future shall be by natural processes, without war, and I would add even without purchase. There is no territorial aggrandizement worth the price of blood. Only under peculiar circumstances can it become the subject of pecuniary contract. Our triumph should be by growth and organic expansion in obedience to “preëstablished harmony,” recognizing always the will of those who are to become our fellow-citizens. All this must be easy, if we are only true to ourselves. Our motto may be that of Goethe: “Without haste, without rest.” Let the Republic be assured in tranquil liberty, with all equal before the law, and it will conquer by its sublime example. More happy than Austria, who acquired possessions by marriage, we shall acquire them by the attraction of republican institutions.
“Bella gerant alii; tu, felix Austria, nube;
Nam quæ Mars aliis, dat tibi regna Venus.”[34]
The famous epigram will be just as applicable to us, inasmuch as our acquisitions will be under the sanction of wedlock to the Republic. There may be wedlock of a people as well as of a prince. Meanwhile our first care should be to improve and elevate the Republic, whose sway will be so comprehensive. Plant it with schools; cover it with churches; fill it with libraries; make it abundant with comfort, so that poverty shall disappear; keep it constant in the assertion of Human Rights. And here we may fitly recall those words of Antiquity, which Cicero quoted from the Greek, and Webster in our day quoted from Cicero: “You have a Sparta; adorn it.”[35]
SOURCES OF INFORMATION UPON RUSSIAN AMERICA.
I am now brought to consider the character of these possessions and their probable value. Here I am obliged to confess a dearth of authentic information easily accessible. Few among us read Russian, so that works in this language are locked up from us. One of these, in two large and showy volumes, is now before me, entitled “An Historical Survey of the Formation of the Russian-American Company, and its Progress to the Present Time, by P. Teshmeneff, St. Petersburg.” The first volume appeared in 1860, and the second in 1863. Here, among other things, is a tempting engraving of Sitka, wrapt in mists, with the sea before and the snow-capped mountains darkened with forest behind. Judging from the table of contents, which has been translated for me by a Russian, the book ought to be instructive. There is also another Russian work of an official character, which appeared in 1861 at St. Petersburg, in the “Morskoi Sbornik,” or Naval Review, and is entitled “Materials for the History of the Russian Colonies on the Coasts of the Pacific.” The report of Captain-Lieutenant Golowin, made to the Grand Duke Constantine in 1861, with which we have become acquainted through a scientific German journal, appeared originally in the same review. These are recent productions. After the early voyages of Behring, first ordered by Peter and supervised by the Imperial Academy, the spirit of geographical research seems to have subsided at St. Petersburg. Other enterprises absorbed attention. And yet I would not do injustice to the voyages of Billings, recounted by Sauer, or of Lisiansky, or of Kotzebue, all under the auspices of Russia, the last of which may compare with any as a contribution to science. I may add Lütke also; but Kotzebue was a worthy successor to Behring and Cook.
Beside these official contributions, most of them by no means fresh, are materials derived from casual navigators, who, scudding these seas, rested in the harbors as the water-fowl on its flight,—from whalemen, who were there merely as Nimrods of the ocean, or from adventurers in quest of the rich furs it furnished. There are also the gazetteers and geographies; but they are less instructive on this head than usual, being founded on information now many years old.
Perhaps no region of equal extent on the globe, unless we except the interior of Africa or possibly Greenland, is so little known. Here I do not speak for myself alone. A learned German, whom I have already quoted, after saying that the explorations have been limited to the coast, testifies that “the interior, not only of the continent, but even of the island of Sitka, is to this day unexplored, and is in every respect terra incognita.”[36] The same has been repeated of the other islands. Admiral Lütke, whose circumnavigation of the globe began in 1826, and whose work bears date 1835-36, says of the Aleutian Archipelago, that, although frequented for more than a century by Russian vessels and those of other nations, it is to-day almost as little known as in the time of Cook. Another writer of authority, the compiler of the official work on the People of Russia, published as late as 1862, speaks of the interior as “a mystery.” And yet another says that our ignorance with regard to this region would make it a proper scene for a chapter of Gulliver’s Travels.
Where so little was known, invention found scope. Imagination was made to supply the place of knowledge, and poetry pictured the savage desolation in much admired verse. Campbell, in the “Pleasures of Hope,” while exploring “Earth’s loneliest bounds and Ocean’s wildest shore,” reaches this region, which he portrays:—