Mr. Boyd.—Mr. Speaker, I should not have risen, on the present occasion, had not the honorable Committee of Foreign Relations requested all those that did not intend to vote for such ulterior measures as they might hereafter find necessary to bring forward, would not vote for the present resolutions, as they were a part of a system that might eventuate in war, &c. From those observations, I feel myself, and those that I in part have the honor to represent, called on to say how far I will go, and how far I will not go. Sir, when we talk about war, we ought to know for what we are going to wage it, and to see that the means are commensurate to the end. Let it not be thought by this that I have any apology to make for Great Britain, or her manifold wrongs. I have none. I say, perish the heart, the head and the tongue, that will attempt her justification or apology? No, sir, they are a nation of pirates, and have committed many wrongs on us; and it becomes us to look for our remedy, and how it is to be obtained. We are told that these resolutions are a part of a war measure. I do not receive them as such, but as preparatory to what may happen or become necessary. But, for argument sake, suppose it so, and that we are to have war—your army raised, and ready to march to the Canadas; with how many are you going to take them? In my opinion, not less than fifty thousand men will be required. Suppose the English should be driven out of Spain and Portugal, (which may by this time be the case, or it may soon be so,) what number of troops can she send to reinforce her possessions and meet you? But, say some gentlemen, American blood has been spilt, and we must avenge it. How is that to be done? For gallons will you spill torrents; or am I to understand that we shall have war without bloodshed? Sir, let those that think so turn their attention to the Revolutionary war—the Sugarhouse in New York, the Prevost, the Prison-ship, the Wallabout, Fort Washington, White Plains, Princeton, Trenton, Monmouth, Brandywine, Guildford, and many other places. New Jersey has had her full share of the fighting—other States the benefit; and if we have war again, we shall have our share of fighting—others the loaves and fishes. But, sir, I will not complain: we obtained our liberty, and I am willing to support it in the best possible manner. But here another question arises. You go to war for the right to export our surplus produce—tobacco, cotton, flour, with many other articles. Let me ask, what will be your export while that war continues? Will you have any? I think not. But I will suppose that you could export without interruption; would the whole of the exportable produce pay for the war during the continuance of it? No, it would not. Sir, it would take less money from the Government to pay for it, and make a fire of it. Nearly thirty years have elapsed since the Revolutionary war, and that war not half paid for. Is not the war-worn soldier calling on us every day with his demands? You are about to drain your Treasury, borrow money, enlarge your pension list, build additional hospitals, increase our national debt, not to be extinguished or paid off, but to be a lasting burden on the people. But, say the honorable committee, our honor requires it. It is well; I honor the spirit and magnanimity of the committee, and have no doubt of their courage and zeal for our country's rights. But, sir, you must take young men for action—old men for counsel. It is an easy matter to go to law or war, but it is a hard matter to get out of it. The gentleman from Maryland, (Mr. Wright,) in defending the character of the soldier, has given us a quotation, viz:
"Honor and shame from no condition rise,
Act well your part, there all the honor lies."
I will give him another, from the same authority, viz:
"A wit's a feather, a chiefs a rod;[18]
An honest man's the noblest work of God."
But, apart from this, let us suppose war, and admit that it will be successful, so far as proposed—the British driven from the Canadas and Halifax, and their trade intercepted for years to an extensive amount—what then has she to hope or fear from us? Nothing. Will she then respect our rights? No. But I will suppose that we force her to a treaty of amity and commerce, acknowledging our rights to the utmost of our wishes; how long will she keep it? Not an hour longer than suits her convenience or interest. There is no trust to be put in her compacts. Witness Erskine's arrangement. I say, keep on your restrictions; keep the country in peace, if possible, under all your privations, and they are many. Has not our country increased in wealth and population, in a superior degree to any country on earth? Are we not at this moment in the enjoyment of peace and plenty at home—every man under his own vine and fig-tree, and none to make him afraid—with complete protection for person and property? Yes. But our merchants must be protected—they have a right to our protection, say some—it is the merchant that gives life and spring to agriculture. I deny it. It is the planter—the cultivator—that is the foundation on which every other branch of our associated population depends; and it is the surplus of his productions that makes the merchant, and his profits that make the banks. You have made many laws for their protection; they have disobeyed them all, and will disobey them. Have they not told you, continually, to let them alone; that they knew their own business best? Sir, before I would engage in a war, to which I could not see a prospect of a favorable issue, I would let them alone. Sir, the President is made, by the constitution, the treaty-making power; he is also to give us the state of the Union. He is the Executive. He has given us the state of the Union, and made his requisitions; and if I give him what he asks, I give him enough; and that I am willing to give, and more, when he shall require it. But I am not to be forced further yet. It appears to me that the honorable committee has a mind to Gideonize us—rejecting the fearful and faint-hearted. Will they prove us by the waters, and reject all such as will not lap as the dog lappeth? For, sir, they have told us that all that did not intend to vote for such ulterior measures as they might have occasion hereafter to bring forward, ought not to vote for the resolutions. Now, sir, it remains for me to tell them and the House, that I will not leave the ranks of my country. I will vote for the resolutions, and consider myself at liberty to vote hereafter as the nature of the case may require, and my conscience shall direct. I have no more to say at this time.
Monday, December 16.
Foreign Relations.
The House then resumed the consideration of the unfinished business, being the report of the Committee of Foreign Relations.
Mr. Randolph said that he could not express his deep sense of the politeness of the House, except by the regret he felt at the very poor return which they were about to receive for their indulgence. He lamented that it was not in his power to thank, in the name of all the old Republicans of 1798 and 1799, his worthy friend from North Carolina, (Mr. Stanford,) for the sound, sensible, pertinent, and constitutional speech, which he had delivered the other day against this resolution. But he feared, if a writ were to issue against that old party—as had been facetiously said, in another body, of our valiant Army—it would be impossible for a constable with a search warrant to find it. There must be a return of non est inventus. Death, resignation, and desertion had thinned their ranks. They had disappeared. New men and new doctrines had succeeded. He was astonished at the frailty of some memories; or rather, at their aptness to remember to forget every thing but what subserved their present purposes.
The nation had been brought into its present alarming and unprecedented situation by means in nowise unaccountable—by steps as direct and successive as Hogarth's celebrated series of prints, "The Rake's Progress," beginning at the gaming table and ending in a jail, or in bedlam. Our difficulties began to show themselves in 1805 and 1806, when a wise man from the East (Bidwell) was sent to govern the American House of Commons, in quality of manager. With what degree of fidelity he had discharged this duty, we might judge from that which he had since displayed in far inferior trusts. We had commenced our system somewhat on the plan of Catharine of Russia, when she lent her nominal aid to the coalition; we had dealt even more profusely than she in manifestoes; we began, under the instigation of mercantile cupidity, to contend by proclamations and resolutions for the empire of the ocean. But, instead of confining ourselves as she had done to this bloodless warfare, we must copy the wise example of her successors, and after our battle of Friedland, he supposed, we also should have our peace of Tilsit. He gave the little minority praise for having kept the Administration in check, under the salutary restraint of a rigorous examination of their acts—although the Administration had run away with the credit of wishing to take a strong attitude, and had thrown the blame of thwarting their measures on the opposition. That opposition had been composed of all sects and persuasions; but he now perceived that the greater part of them (the Federalists) had gone over to the Court party, for a very obvious reason—because they foresee at the end of the journey, Mr. Speaker, that your defeat will secure their triumph. I wish the gentlemen on my left (the majority) joy of their new travelling companions.