These remarks are extorted from me a little out of their order. I return to the period of the restoration of peace between the United States and France.
The Administration now (1801) passed into the hands of other men. They received a country, rich, prosperous, and increasing in prosperity. A people contented and happy; or discontented only with those who had been the authors of their prosperity. They received a Treasury full and overflowing, giving a vigor and a spring to public credit almost unknown before, and to the reputation of the country a dignity unsullied; they found us in peace and friendship with all nations, our commerce whitening every sea, and rewarding agriculture for all its industry, and every one sitting in peace under his own vine and fig tree. Our country presented to the animated philanthropist one uninterrupted display of liberty, of gaiety, and of felicity. Oh! happy, happy period of our history—never, never, I fear to return. And, if ever truth dropped from the lips of man, it was when the nation was declared to be in "the full tide of successful experiment." Never were the destinies of a nation in more wonderful prosperity committed to men. That prosperity had been acquired at a price no less unparalleled, at the expense of the destruction and disgrace of those whose wisdom and energy had produced it.
The new men, sir, were not required to bring order out of confusion; that had been done already.
They were not called upon to lay the deep and strong foundations of national prosperity and happiness; that had been done already.
They were not enjoined to "multiply" the talents committed to their stewardship; that was unnecessary—they were merely commanded to preserve them undiminished.
They were not required to create a paradise—but to keep uninjured that which was committed to their guardianship.
They promised, indeed; they were so rash, in the fulness of their exultation, as to promise to do more; but folly alone could believe them; and for breaking this promise I forgive them, for to do more was impossible. And if they had but preserved unimpaired, if they had not totally destroyed the inestimable treasures intrusted to them, I would have endeavored to overcome my resentment, my indignation, and my despair.
In performance of their lofty promises, in disregard of sacred duties, what have they done? In what condition do they leave the country, which, eight years since, "in the full tide of successful experiment," fell into their hands? They present to us, sir, the gloomy reverse of all it was. The people discontented and distressed—all becoming daily more and more poor—except, indeed, that class of rich speculators, whose wealth and whose hearts enabled them to prey upon the wants of their countrymen. The despair and dismay of 1786 are returned! The prosperity of twenty years is annihilated at one stroke! The sources of revenue are dried up. The Treasury, indeed, may be now full—but it must continually diminish—and, without its usual supply, it must soon be empty. We have still some credit. But how long, sir, can that be maintained, when it is known that we have no longer the means, allowing us to possess the disposition, to fulfil our pecuniary engagements? When you cannot collect a cent upon imposts, and dare not lay a direct tax, how far you will be able to obtain money on loan, is, to say the least of it, very questionable. But, I will hasten to finish the contrast I was about to make. Commerce, sir, has perished, and agriculture lies dead at her side—for these twin sisters must flourish or die together. No nation in the world is our friend—our paradise is becoming a wilderness; our soil is stained with the blood of our own citizens; and we look around us, in vain, for one solitary benefit to compensate us for all the dreadful effects of the present system.
Perhaps, sir, I may be answered: "Though all you have said be true, though our former prosperity exists no longer, it is ungenerous, it is unjust to impute the change to the agency of the Administration. What has happened could not be prevented." Though such a rebuke were reasonable, I will still insist that the Administration, if they deserve no censure, are certainly entitled to no praise, and can ask for no confidence. If they have not been the authors of the public calamities, they have not, like their predecessors, discovered the ability to prevent them from coming thick upon us. If their hearts are honest, their heads have not discovered much soundness. No set of men, however ignorant, however stupid, could have placed the country in a worse or a more deplorable situation. The truth is plain and palpable. Judging of the wisdom of the Administration by the result of its measures, I cannot sing praises to them for their skill and ingenuity in diplomacy. No, sir; I delight in that diplomacy which makes the poor rich; which makes industry prosperous; which spreads contentment through the land, and happiness among the people. I delight in the diplomacy, whose skill and wisdom can be read in the countenance of my countrymen, and makes the face of my country the evidence of its prosperity. I like not, I abhor that diplomatic skill which can be found only in a book! which has produced nothing but calamity, and whose praise is written in the blood of my countrymen.
But, sir, how happens it that we still remain under the distresses occasioned by the belligerents? Is there, indeed, a physical impossibility of removing them? From Great Britain, and that, too, when she had the whole continent on her side, we could once obtain justice, not only for the past, but security for the future. From France, too, we could once obtain justice, but now we can gain justice from neither. What change, sir, has occurred in the state of things to produce this strange impossibility? Our commerce is more an object to Great Britain now, than it was formerly—and France can oppose to us no resistance on the ocean. And yet no remedy can be found for our calamities! Sir, I will not be the dupe of this miserable artifice. What has been done once can be done again by employing the same means.