The advocates of secession claim the constitutional power for each State to annul, not only any law which the State may deem unconstitutional, but to abolish the Constitution itself as the law of the State. Now, by this Constitution, Carolina granted certain powers to the General Government: may she constitutionally alter or revoke the grant, in a manner repugnant to the provisions of that Constitution? That instrument points out the mode in which it may be changed or abrogated, and by which the several States may assume all or any of the powers granted to the General Government, namely, by the conjoint action of three fourths of the States. What, then, are the powers reserved to the State? The ninth article of the Constitution of the Union declares that 'the powers not delegated to the United States by the Constitution, nor prohibited by it to the States, are reserved to the States respectively, or to the people.' Then the powers delegated to the United States were not reserved to the States or to the people. What is the meaning of the clause 'or to the people,' as contradistinguished from 'the States'? Does it mean that any of this mass of undefined powers, but embracing all not granted to the General Government, was reserved to the people of the United States in the aggregate? Then there would exist, and does now exist, a consolidated despotism. No, it was to the people of each State the reservation was made. Then it follows, as a necessary consequence, that none of the powers granted to the General Government were reserved either to the States or the people of any State. That is, so far as the people of any one State had granted, by their own separate constitution, to the State government any powers not delegated to the General Government, the government of the State might exercise these powers, and so far as any of these undelegated powers were not granted to the State government, by the people of the State, they were reserved to the people of each State. Now, one of the powers reserved to the people of each State is to change their form of State government, and resume the powers granted by it. But we have seen that neither the government or people of a State could resume 'the powers delegated to the United States,' because it was not one of the rights reserved to either. What! I am asked, cannot the people of a State abolish their form of government? Yes, in two modes: one in accordance with the Constitution, and the other by a revolution. Could the people of Carolina or Mississippi change or abolish their State constitution, except in the mode prescribed by that instrument, unless by a revolution? And the same power, the people of Carolina, that formed for them their State constitution, ratified and rendered obligatory upon them the Constitution of the Union; and can the one and not the other be abolished, except by a revolution, in any other mode than that prescribed by the Constitution? No; the people of Carolina, and of all the States, as distinct communities, in ratifying the Constitution of the Union, rendered it binding upon the people of every State, by the declaration that 'this Constitution shall be the supreme law of the land, and that the judges in every State shall be bound thereby, anything in the Constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding.' Here we see the distinction between the State and the people of the State again recognized and confirmed, and the 'State,' by its 'laws,' and the people of the State, by the formation of a constitution, expressly prohibited from arresting the operation of the Constitution of the United States, as 'the supreme law of the land,' 'in every State.' If Carolina secede, she must form a constitution, by which she will assume the powers granted to the General Government, and vest them in the government of the State. Here she would be met by the former act of the people of Carolina, declaring that they had abandoned the power to form for themselves a constitution by which the Constitution of the Union would cease within their limits to be 'the supreme law of the land.' Nor did the framers of the Constitution mean to say only that the then existing Constitutions of the States ratifying the compact should be subordinate to the Constitution of the Union; for then, also, only the existing laws of any State were required to be subordinate to the Constitution of the Union; but both are placed on the same basis. The power of a State to nullify by its laws, or secede by forming a new constitution, are both denied in the same clause and sentence of the American Constitution. The language is clear, that the Constitution of the Union shall be 'the supreme law of the land,' and 'binding in every State,' 'anything in the Constitution or laws of any State to the contrary notwithstanding.' The terms are 'shall be;' it is the language of command, it is prospective, it was binding when subscribed, now, and forever. Or, was Carolina never bound by this compact, and might she, the very day after it was ratified by her people, disregard it altogether, secede, and establish a constitution directly repugnant to the Constitution of the Union? If so, written constitutions are worse than useless; they are not obligatory, there is no penalty for their violation; obedience to them cannot be enforced; there is no government but that of opinion, fluctuating and uncertain, undefined and undefinable, which is paramount to the fundamental law. This is what the despots of Europe call our government, and why they predict its downfall—a prediction now in the course of fulfilment, if these anarchical principles can be recognized as the doctrines of the Constitution.
There is no difference between the doctrines or acts of Jefferson and Jackson on this subject. Both admit nullification or secession as a revolutionary measure; and the new doctrine of suspending a law by a nullifying edict finds not the remotest support from Mr. Jefferson. In his celebrated draught of the Kentucky resolutions, so much relied on by Carolina, we have seen, he speaks of these powers of the people of any State as 'a natural right,' and so is revolution; and the cases to which he refers are such as render a revolution unavoidable, namely, if Congress pass an act 'so palpably against the Constitution as to amount to an undisguised declaration that the compact is not meant to be the measure of the powers of the General Government.' Is there now such a case? if there is, revolution is justifiable. Why then ask any other remedy than revolution for a case where revolution would be unavoidable? And SECESSION IS REVOLUTION. But did Mr. Jefferson mean to say that whenever any State should place its laws or Constitution, by nullification or secession, in opposition to the laws of the General Government, that the power of the General Government must not be exerted? The very reverse. The act of Congress of the 3d of March, 1807, signed and approved by Mr. Jefferson as President, expressly authorizes the President of the United States to 'employ such part of the land and naval force of the United States as may be necessary' to execute 'the laws of the United States.' Does this mean, as General Hayne tells us in his proclamation, to execute the laws against insurgents not sustained by any law of the State? No; this act was passed at the very time when Pennsylvania was proceeding, by virtue of a law of the State, to execute, by an armed force, the mandate of the State in opposition to the mandate of the Federal authorities; and the officer of Pennsylvania, acting under the mandate of the Governor and a positive law of the State, was condemned for executing a law of the State opposed to the mandate of the General Government, and only escaped punishment by the pardon of President Madison: and thus falls the very basis of the doctrine of nullification. Here is a commentary by Messrs. Jefferson and Madison, demonstrating their entire concurrence with our present Chief Magistrate. And, if any further evidence of Mr. Jefferson's views were wanting, it is to be found in his letters, already referred to, protesting against a separation of the Union, and denying the right of a State to 'veto' an act of Congress; and in many other letters to be found in his memoirs, insisting upon the power even of the old confederacy to exercise 'COERCION over its delinquent members,' the States. 'Compulsion,' he says, 'was never so easy as in our case, where a single frigate would levy on the commerce of a State the deficiency of its contributions; nor more safe than in the hands of Congress, which has always shown that it would wait, as it ought to do, to the last extremities, before it would exercise any of its powers which are disagreeable.' Here, then, we find Mr. Jefferson most distinctly admitting the power of Congress under the old, as in 1807 he admitted under the present confederacy, to compel a State by FORCE to obey the laws of the Union. Why, then, is General Jackson denounced as a tyrant, for doing that which his oath and the Constitution compel him to do? Suppose any State, by its ordinance, should arrest the passage of the mail through their limits, upon the pretext that the law was unconstitutional; the acts of Congress place at the disposal of the President the militia of any one or all of the States, or 'the land or naval force of the United States', to execute the law of the Union in every State, by whomsoever resisted or opposed. The Constitution and his oath command him to execute the laws; he must execute them, and the mail must pass on, though the edict of a single State should attempt to arrest it by nullification or secession. Such, too, was the opinion of Mr. Jefferson; and that illustrious patriot would have laid his head on the block, and blessed the hand that severed it from his body, rather than sever the Union by the promulgation of the doctrines now ascribed to him. What are the consequences of this right of a State to secede from the Union?—this right of revolution, without the power of the General Government to preserve the Union? Any one State may arrest, to-morrow, the mail of the Union, and its passage from State to State, and refuse it a passage forever. Pennsylvania, a central State, may separate the North from the South, prevent all intercommunication, render our country a republic divided and indefensible. Louisiana, purchased by taxes imposed upon the people of all the States, may secede and establish a separate and independent government, lay protective or prohibitory imposts on the imports and exports of this State and of the West, carried through her ports and the outlets of the Mississippi. She might say, I will protect my own cotton planters, by prohibitory duties on the cotton of Mississippi or the West, or the imports designed to be exchanged for it, shipped through my ports or through the outlet of the Mississippi: it is my interest to do so; for thus I can deprive the cotton planters of Mississippi and the West of a market; thus compel them to abandon the culture of that staple, and sell my own cotton at a higher price. Louisiana asserts no such doctrines; but, if she did, could Mississippi, could the West admit them? and, in the last resort, would not the Government force a passage for our imports and exports by the sword? Yes; for as well might you take the heart from the human body and bid it live, as sever Louisiana from the States that border on the Mississippi, and bid these States to prosper. No; Louisiana holds the outlet of that stream through which the life blood of their commerce and industry must forever flow; and we never could admit her right to secede from the Union, and dictate the terms on which we should use the outlet of that stream, whose banks were destined by heaven itself as the residence of a united people. Not only Louisiana, but State by State that borders on the Atlantic or the Gulf, might secede, seclude the West from the ocean, and render them the tributaries of the seaboard States, by laying prohibitory duties on their imports and exports. Could we submit to this? Not while the West contained a gun to use, or a man to shoulder it.
And may Carolina secede and establish an independent government? Did she establish her own independence? No, it was achieved by the arms and purchased by the blood of Americans, with the banner of the Union floating over them. I know the valor of Carolina, that, man to man, she is invincible; but, unaided and alone, she would have fallen in the Revolution. She would have fallen gloriously, her soil would have drunk the blood of her children; but still she must have fallen in the unequal contest. When Carolina was made the battlefield of the Revolution, from the very rock of Plymouth and the heights of Bunker Hill, from Pennsylvania, from Virginia, American citizens flew to her rescue. Side by side with Carolina's sons they marched beneath the banner of the Union; they fought, they conquered; Carolina was redeemed from bondage, but upon her many and well-fought fields was mingled the blood and repose the ashes of our common ancestors, the pledges of our Union in victory and in death.
Shades of these departed patriots! arise, and say to the sons of Carolina, it was the Union that made you free. Without it, you would yet be subjects, colonial vassals, and slaves; without it, the chains are now forging that will bind you to the thrones of despots. And could we stand with folded arms, and behold the Union dissolved? Could we see the seventeen thousand freemen of Carolina, who cling with the grasp of death to the banner of the Union, deprived of their privileges as American citizens, proscribed, disfranchised, expelled from all offices, civil and military, driven by glittering bayonets from the bench and the jury box, tried and convicted by judges and jurors sworn to condemn, attainted as traitors, torn from the last embraces of wives and children, consigned to the scaffold or the block, or immured within the walls of a dungeon, where the light of heaven or liberty should never visit them, with no consolation but their patriotism, and no companions but their chains? And, gracious Heaven, for what? Oh! Liberty, when was thy sacred temple profaned by deeds like this? Thy martyrs suffered only for clinging to the banner of the American Union. And could we see them torn from around that sacred banner, and move not to their rescue? No; the glow that beams on every countenance, the patriot's answer that speaks from every throbbing breast, proclaims that, as in '76 our fathers marched to free their sires from tyrants' power, so would their children go, to save from death or bondage Carolina's friends of union—with them, beneath the standard of our common country, to die or conquer.
Citizens of Mississippi, to you the address of the nullifying convention of Carolina makes a special appeal. It asks, if Carolina secedes from the Union, 'Can it be believed that Georgia, Mississippi, Tennessee, and even Kentucky would continue to pay a tribute of fifty per cent. upon their consumption to the Northern States for the privilege of being united to them, when they could receive all their supplies through the ports of South Carolina, without paying a single cent for tribute?' To this question, Georgia has already answered, by expressing her 'abhorrence' of the doctrine of nullification, her firm resolve to adhere to the Union. Tennessee has made the same response. Kentucky, in a voice of thunder, answers, No, we will preserve the Union as it is. And will Mississippi receive the bribe thus offered to dissolve the Union? What is it? The privilege of exchanging our exports for imports free of duty, in the ports of Carolina; and then would Carolina pay the taxes to raise and maintain an army, or a navy, and protect our commerce? But if she could, nature pronounces the project impracticable. Our commerce must flow through the outlet of the Mississippi; and how would our exports reach the ports of Carolina—how would our imports thence be received? Through the outlet of the Mississippi? No, that outlet and its ports would then be in the hands of Louisiana—in that event, to us a hostile foreign government, from which we had severed ourselves. For let it not be forgotten that Louisiana is not even invited to join this new confederacy; and if she were, is announcing her unalterable determination to adhere to the Union as it is. Then, through the outlet of the Mississippi our commerce could not be carried on with the ports of Carolina; for Louisiana, as we have seen before, would meet and stop our exports and imports with prohibitory duties. Would we move up the Mississippi or Ohio to reach the ports of Carolina, or any other market? There we would find the confederates from whom we had severed; we would find a foreign government, and prohibitory duties would exclude our access to Carolina's ports in that direction. How would we reach them? The only other route, if Georgia and Alabama would grant the boon for Carolina's benefit, would be to pass through those States by land to Charleston, with our cotton, and return by land with the imports received in exchange. A trip of one thousand miles by wagon road with cotton! The entire value of the crop would not pay for its transportation. Is this the proposition of Carolina? What is the only commerce we could carry on with her? By abandoning the culture of cotton upon our fertile lands, for the benefit of Carolina, and our planters all becoming drovers of horses, mules, and cattle, to exchange for her imports, and return with them, packed on the number unsold of our mules and horses. And are these the benefits for which we are asked to dissolve the Union, and place the channel of the Mississippi above and below, and its outlet, in the hands of a foreign government, denying a passage ascending or descending, to our imports or exports, and excluding us from the ocean altogether? If Carolina's scheme were practicable, Mississippi would not sell the Union for dollars and cents; but though the scheme might be beneficial to Carolina, by stopping the culture of cotton on our fertile soil, to the people of this State it is ruin immediate and inevitable. The remedy Carolina proposes to us for the Tariff, is worse than the disease. The disease is not mortal—it is now in a course of cure; but Carolina's remedy is death—it is suicide; for the dissolution of the Union is political suicide.
A Southern convention is proposed, of the States of North and South Carolina, Tennessee, Virginia, Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi. If the object be a confederacy of these States, without Louisiana and the Western, Middle, and Northern States, if patriotism, or love for the Union were insufficient to restrain us from attempting this fatal measure, we have seen that it would blast forever the fortunes of the planters of Mississippi. But what States will unite in this convention? Georgia has disavowed the act of the self-constituted, self-elected minority convention that acted in her name. The history of Virginia speaks in the voice of indignant rebuke to all those States that assemble sectional conventions. North Carolina, unassuming, but steadfast in support of the Union, will enter into no such convention. Alabama, if her public meetings and journals and her chief magistrate speak the voice of the State, will send no delegates. Tennessee, brave and patriotic, devoted to the Union, and sustaining its banner in war and in peace, meets the proposition with a decided refusal. I imagine, then, our delegates would return without finding this Southern convention. I am opposed to all sectional conventions. We have had one such convention, and, whatever the secret motives of its members may have been, the very fact that it was a sectional convention, that it was believed to be convened to calculate the value of the Union, that it was supposed to have in view an Eastern confederacy, has sealed the doom of its members and projectors. And when the calm shall follow the storm, a similar fate awaits all who will go into this Southern convention. I trust there never will be another partial convention, Northern, Southern, Eastern, or Western; for, whether assembled at Hartford or Columbia, they are equally dangerous to the Union of the States. They create and inflame geographical parties. Could the North, assembled in convention, have that full knowledge of the situation and wants of the people of the South, as to legislate for them, and propose ultimatums to which the South must submit, or leave the Union? Could the South possess that full knowledge of the situation and wants and interests of the people of all the other States, as to enable them to dictate the terms on which the Union should be governed or dissolved? No; it is only in a meeting of all the States, in Congress or convention, that that knowledge of the wants and interests of all, and that fusion of sentiment and opinion, and spirit of concession, can exist, in which the Constitution was framed, and all its powers should be exercised.
If we hold Southern conventions, then will there be Northern, Eastern, and Western conventions, and they will overthrow the Union. Partial confederacies will first be formed, and then, as Mr. Jefferson most truly tells us, would speedily follow the formation of a separate and independent government by each State. What is it we are asked to abandon, and for what? That Union which ushered in the morn of American Liberty, and gave birth to the Declaration of Independence; which carried our armies victoriously through the storms of the Revolution and the last war, and now waves triumphantly in every sea, the kindred emblem of our country's glory. It gave us Washington—it gave us liberty, and bears our name aloft among the nations of the earth. It is our only rampart in war—our only safeguard in peace, and under its auspices we declared, achieved, maintained, and can alone preserve our liberties. It is the only basis of our solid and substantial interests, and the last star of hope to the oppressed of every clime. Shall we calculate its value? No! for we will not estimate the value of liberty—and 'liberty and union are inseparable.' Dissolve this Union, and let each State become, as Mr. Jefferson truly tells us it would, a separate government, could we preserve our liberties? Where would be the army and navy and seamen of the State of Mississippi? how to be procured, and how to be maintained and paid? Where would be her ambassadors and treaties, her commerce—and through what ports and by whose permission would she ship her exports or introduce her imports? Who would respect her flag, who recognize her as a nation—and how would she punish aggressions upon her rights, on the ocean or the land? No, fellow citizens; the President truly tells us that 'separate independence' is a 'dream'—a dream from which we would wake in bondage or in death. But, if disgraced abroad, what would be our situation at home, as separate bordering and hostile States—and how long could we remain in peace and concord? The voice of history tells us—the bloodstained fields of our sister republics of America proclaim, that disunion would be the signal for WAR—a war of conquest, in which the weak would fall before the power of the strong; and upon the ruins of this now happy Union might arise the darkest despotism that ever crushed the liberties of mankind, for it would be established and could only be maintained by the bayonet. Perhaps, while yet the civil war should rage with doubtful issue, while exhausted and bleeding at every pore, that sanguinary alliance of despots, combined to crush the liberties of man, would send its armies to our shores. Under what standard would we rally to preserve our liberty? There would be no Union—without it there would be no strength; and those who, united, could defy the world in arms, divided would be weak and powerless. Such are the ultimate results of disunion. Let us take the first step, and all may be lost forever. That step is nullification by Carolina, then her secession—then, as she truly tells us in her address, 'the separation of South Carolina would inevitably produce a general dissolution of the Union.' And shall Carolina dissolve the Union? No; the liberties of all the States are embarked together, and if one State withdraw her single plank, the national vessel must go down to rise no more, and shipwreck the hopes of mankind. Let us then adjure the people of Carolina, by the ties of our common country and common kindred—by the ruin and disgrace which civil war will bring upon the victors and vanquished—by the untried horrors of those scenes to which disunion must conduct, to repeal her ordinance, and not to force upon us that dread alternative, in which we must support the flag of our country, or surrender our Union and liberty without a struggle: that we cannot, we will not, we dare not, surrender them; and, if forced to draw the sword to defend our liberties, the motto will gleam on every blade: 'The Union shall be preserved.' For were it abandoned, life would not be a blessing, but a curse; and happiest would those be whose eyes were closed in death ere they beheld the horrors of those scenes to which with viewless and rapid strides we seem to hasten. Well, fellow citizens, may our hearts be wrung with sorrow on this occasion, in looking back to what we were, and forward to what we may soon be. Well may the tears unbidden start, for they are the tears that patriots shed over the departing greatness of our once united, but now distracted and unhappy country.
THE SIOUX WAR.
Compared with the great storm of rebellion which has darkened and overspread our whole national sky, the Indian war on our northwestern frontier has been a little cloud "no bigger than a man's hand;" and yet, compared with similar events in our history, it has scarcely a parallel. From the days of King Philip to the time of Black Hawk, there has hardly been an outbreak so treacherous, so sudden, so bitter, and so bloody, as that which filled the State of Minnesota with sorrow and lamentation, during the past summer and autumn, and the closing scenes of which are even now transpiring. We were beginning to regard the poetry of the palisades as a thing of the past, when, suddenly, our ears were startled by the echo of the warwhoop, and the crack of the rifle, and our hearts appalled by the gleam of the tomahawk and the scalping knife, as they descended in indiscriminate and remorseless slaughter, on defenceless women and children on our border.