Slavery was wrong, and he would not tolerate it. Slave-masters, brimming with Slavery, were imperious and lawless. From him they learned to see themselves as others saw them. Strong in his cause and in the consciousness of power, he did not shrink from encounter; and when it was joined, he used not only argument and history, but all those other weapons by which a bad cause is exposed to scorn and contempt. Nobody said more in fewer words, or gave to language a sharper bite. Speech was with him at times a cat-o’-nine-tails, and woe to the victim on whom the terrible lash descended!
Does any one doubt the justifiableness of such debate? Sarcasm, satire, and ridicule are not given in vain. They have an office to perform in the economies of life. They are faculties to be employed prudently in support of truth and justice. A good cause is helped, if its enemies are driven back; and it cannot be doubted that the supporters of wrong and the procrastinators shrank often before the weapons he wielded. Soft words turn away wrath; but there is a time for strong words as for soft words. Did not the Saviour seize the thongs with which to drive the money-changers from the Temple? Our money-changers long ago planted themselves within our temple. Was it not right to lash them away? Such an exercise of power in a generous cause must not be confounded with that personality of debate which has its origin in nothing higher than irritability, jealousy, or spite. In this sense Thaddeus Stevens was never personal. No personal thought or motive controlled him. What he said was for his country and mankind.
As the Rebellion assumed its giant proportions, he saw clearly that it could be smitten only through Slavery; and when, after a bloody struggle, it was too tardily vanquished, he saw clearly that there could be no true peace, except by new governments built on the Equal Rights of All. And this policy he urged with a lofty dogmatism as beneficent as uncompromising. The Rebels had burned his property in Pennsylvania, and there were weaklings who attributed his conduct to smart at pecuniary loss. How little they understood his nature! Injury provokes and sometimes excuses resentment. But it was not in him to allow private grief to influence public conduct. The losses of the iron-master were forgotten in the duties of the statesman. He asked nothing for himself. He did not ask his own rights, except as the Rights of Man.
I know not if he could be called orator. Perhaps, like Fox, he were better called debater. And yet I doubt if words were ever delivered with more effect than when, broken with years and decay, he stood before the Senate and in the name of the House of Representatives and of all the people of the United States impeached Andrew Johnson, President of the United States, of high crimes and misdemeanors in office. Who can forget his steady, solemn utterance of this great arraignment? The words were few, but they will sound through the ages. The personal triumph in his position at that moment was merged in the historic grandeur of the scene. For a long time, against opposition of all kinds, against misconceptions of the law, and against apologies for transactions without apology, he had insisted on impeachment; and now this old man, tottering to your door, dragged the Chief Magistrate of the Republic to judgment. It was he who did this thing; and I should do poor justice to his life, if on this occasion I failed to declare my gratitude for the heroic deed. His merit is none the less because other influences prevailed in the end. His example will remain forever.
In the House, which was the scene of his triumphs, I never heard him but once; and I cannot forget the noble eloquence of that brief speech. I was there by accident just as he rose. He did not speak more than ten minutes, but every sentence seemed an oration. With unhesitating plainness he arraigned Pennsylvania for her denial of equal rights to an oppressed race, and, rising with the theme, declared that this State had not a republican government.[2] His explicitness was the more striking because he was a Representative of Pennsylvania. Nobody, who has considered with any care what constitutes a republican government, especially since the definition supplied by our Declaration of Independence, can doubt that he was right. His words will live as the courageous testimony of a great character on this important question.
The last earnest object of his life was the establishment of Equal Rights throughout the whole country by the recognition of the requirement of the Declaration of Independence. I have before me two letters in which he records his convictions, which are perhaps more weighty because the result of most careful consideration, when age had furnished experience and tempered the judgment. “I have,” says he, “long, and with such ability as I could command, reflected upon the subject of the Declaration of Independence, and finally have come to the sincere conclusion that Universal Suffrage was one of the inalienable rights intended to be embraced in that instrument.” It is difficult to see how there can be hesitation on this point, when the great title-deed expressly says that governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed. But this is not the only instance in which he was constrained by the habits of that profession which he practised so successfully. A great Parliamentarian of France has said: “The more one is a lawyer, the less he is a Senator,”—Plus on est avocat, moins on est Sénateur. If Stevens reached his conclusion slowly, it was because he had not completely emancipated himself from that technical reasoning which is the boast of the lawyer rather than of the statesman. The pretension that the power to determine the “qualifications” of voters embraced the power to exclude for color, and that this same power to exclude for color was included in the asserted power of the States to make “regulations” for the elective franchise, seems at first to have deceived him; as if it were not insulting to reason and shocking to the moral sense to suppose that any unalterable physical condition, such as color of hair, eyes, or skin, could be a “qualification,”—and as if it were not equally offensive to suppose, that, under a power to determine “qualifications” or to make “regulations,” a race could be disfranchised. Of course this whole pretension is a technicality set up against Human Rights. Nothing can be plainer than that a technicality may be employed in favor of Human Rights, but never against them. Stevens came to his conclusion at last, and rested in it firmly. His final aspiration was to see it prevail. He had seen much for which he had striven embodied in the institutions of his country. He had seen Slavery abolished. He had seen the freedman of the National Capital lifted to equality of political rights by Act of Congress; he had seen the colored race throughout the whole land lifted to equality of civil rights by Act of Congress. It only remained that he should see them throughout the whole land lifted to the same equality in political rights; and then the promises of the Declaration of Independence would be all fulfilled. But he was called away before this final triumph. A great writer of Antiquity, a perpetual authority, tells us that “the chief duty of friends is not to follow the departed with idle lamentation, but to remember their wishes and to execute their commands.”[3] These are the words of Tacitus. I venture to add that we shall best honor him we now celebrate, if we adopt his aspiration and strive for its fulfilment.
It is as Defender of Human Rights that Thaddeus Stevens deserves homage. Here he is supreme. On other questions he erred. On the finances his errors were signal. But history will forget these and other failings, as it bends with reverence before the exalted labors by which humanity has been advanced. Already he takes his place among illustrious names which are the common property of mankind. I see him now, as so often during life. His venerable form moves slowly and with uncertain steps; but the gathered strength of years is in his countenance, and the light of victory on his path. Politician, calculator, timeserver, stand aside! A hero-statesman passes to his reward.