Part 309

While these prepossessions remain, all argument is useless; it may be heard with the ceremony of attention, and lavish its own resources, and the patience it wearies, to no manner of purpose. The ears may be open, but the mind will remain locked up, and every pass to the understanding guarded.

Unless, therefore, this jealous and repulsive fear for the rights of the House can be allayed, I will not ask a hearing.

I cannot press this topic too far--I cannot address myself with too much emphasis to the magnanimity and candor of those who sit here, to suspect their own feelings, and while they do, to examine the grounds of their alarm. I repeat it, we must conquer our persuasion, that this body has an interest in one side of the question more than the other, before we attempt to surmount our objections. On most subjects, and solemn ones too, perhaps in the most solemn of all, we form our creed more from inclination than evidence.

Let me expostulate with gentlemen to admit, if it be only by way of supposition and for a moment, that it is barely possible they have yielded too suddenly to their alarms for the powers of this House; that the addresses which have been made with such variety of forms, and with so great dexterity in some of them, to all that is prejudice and passion in the heart, are either the effects or the instruments of artifice and deception, and then let them see the subject once more in its singleness and simplicity.

It will be impossible, on taking a fair review of the subject, to justify the passionate appeals that have been made to us to struggle for our liberties and rights, and the solemn exhortation to reject the proposition, said to be concealed in that on your table, to surrender them for ever. In spite of this mock solemnity, I demand, if the House will not concur in the measure to execute the Treaty, what other course shall we take? How many ways of proceeding lie open before us?

In the nature of things there are but three--we are either to make the Treaty--to observe it--or break it. It would be absurd to say we will do neither. If I may repeat a phrase, already so much abused, we are under coercion to do one of them, and we have no power, by the exercise of our discretion, to prevent the consequences of a choice.

By refusing to act, we choose. The Treaty will be broken, and fall to the ground. Where is the fitness, then, of replying to those who urge upon this House the topics of duty and policy, that they attempt to force the Treaty down, and to compel this assembly to renounce its discretion, and to degrade itself to the rank of a blind and passive instrument in the hands of the Treaty-making power? In case we reject the appropriation, we do not secure any greater liberty of action, we gain no safer shelter than before, from the consequences of the decision. Indeed, they are not to be evaded. It is neither just nor manly to complain that the Treaty-making power has produced this coercion to act. It is not the art or the despotism of that power, it is the nature of things that compels. Shall we, dreading to become the blind instruments of power, yield ourselves the blinder dupes of mere sounds of imposture? Yet that word, that empty word, coercion, has given scope to an eloquence that, one would imagine, could not be tired, and did not choose to be quieted.

Let us examine still more in detail the alternatives that are before us, and we shall scarcely fail to see, in still stronger lights, the futility of our apprehensions for the power and liberty of the House.

If, as some have suggested, the thing called a Treaty is incomplete, if it has no binding force or obligation, the first question is, Will this House complete the instrument, and by concurring, impart to it that force which it wants?

The doctrine has been avowed, that the Treaty, though formally ratified by the Executive power of both nations, though published as a law for our own, by the PRESIDENT's Proclamation, is still a mere proposition submitted to this assembly no way distinguishable in point of authority or obligation from a motion for leave to bring in a bill, or any other original act of ordinary legislation. This doctrine, so novel in our country, yet so dear to many, precisely for the reason that, in the contention of power, victory is always dear, is obviously repugnant to the very terms, as well as the fair interpretation of our own resolutions, (Mr. BLOUNT's.) We declare that the Treaty-making power is exclusively vested in the PRESIDENT and Senate, and not in this House. Need I say that we fly in the face of that resolution when we pretend that the acts of that power are not valid until we have concurred in them? It would be nonsense, or worse, to use the language of the most glaring contradiction and to claim a share in a power which we, at the same time, disclaim as exclusively vested in other departments.

What can be more strange than to say, that the compacts of the PRESIDENT and Senate with foreign nations are Treaties, without our agency, and yet those compacts want all power and obligation until they are sanctioned by our concurrence? It is not my design in this place, if at all, to go into the discussion of this part of the subject. I will, at least for the present, take it for granted that this monstrous opinion stands in little need of remark, and, if it does, lies almost out of the reach of refutation.

But, say those who hide the absurdity under the cover of ambiguous phrases, have we no discretion? And, if we have, are we not to make use of it in judging of the expediency or inexpediency of the Treaty? Our resolution claims that privilege, and we cannot surrender it without equal inconsistency and breach of duty.

If there be any inconsistency in the case, it lies, not in making appropriations for the Treaty, but in the resolution itself, (Mr. BLOUNT's.) Let us examine it more nearly. A Treaty is a bargain between nations binding in good faith; and what makes a bargain? The assent of the contracting parties. We allow that the Treaty power is not in this House; this House has no share in contracting, and is not a party; of consequence, the PRESIDENT and Senate alone may make a Treaty that is binding in good faith. We claim, however, say the gentlemen, a right to judge of the expediency of Treaties--that is the constitutional province of our discretion. Be it so--what follows? Treaties when adjudged by us to be inexpedient, fall to the ground, and the public faith is not hurt. This, incredible and extravagant as it may seem, is asserted. The amount of it, in plainer language, is this--the PRESIDENT and Senate are to make national bargains, and this House has nothing to do in making them. But bad bargains do not bind this House, and, of inevitable consequence, do not bind the nation. When a national bargain, called a Treaty, is made, its binding force does not depend upon the making, but upon our opinion that it is good. As our opinion on the matter can be known and declared only by ourselves, when sitting in our Legislative capacity, the Treaty, though ratified, and, as we choose to term it, made, is hung up in suspense, till our sense is ascertained. We condemn the bargain, and it falls, though, as we say, our faith does not. We approve a bargain as expedient, and it stands firm, and binds the nation. Yet, even in this latter case, its force is plainly not derived from the ratification by the Treaty-making power, but from our approbation. Who will trace these inferences, and pretend that we may have no share, according to the argument, in the Treaty-making power? These opinions, nevertheless, have been advocated with infinite zeal and perseverance. Is it possible that any man can be hardy enough to avow them, and their ridiculous consequences?

Let me hasten to suppose the Treaty is considered as already made, and then the alternative is fairly presented to the mind, whether we will observe the Treaty, or break it. This, in fact, is the naked question.

If we choose to observe it with good faith, our course is obvious. Whatever is stipulated to be done by the nation, must be complied with. Our agency, if it should be requisite, cannot be properly refused. And I do not see why it is not as obligatory a rule of conduct for the Legislature as for the Courts of Law.

I cannot lose this opportunity to remark, that the coercion, so much dreaded and declaimed against, appears at length to be no more than the authority of principles, the despotism of duty. Gentlemen complain that we are forced to act in this way, we are forced to swallow the Treaty. It is very true, unless we claim the liberty of abuse, the right to act as we ought not. There is but one way open for us, the laws of morality and good faith have fenced up every other. What sort of liberty is that which we presume to exercise against the authority of those laws! It is for tyrants to complain that principles are restraints, and that they have no liberty so long as their despotism has limits.

The consequences of refusing to make provision for the Treaty are not all to be foreseen. By rejecting, vast interests are committed to the sport of the winds, chance becomes the arbiter of events, and it is forbidden to human foresight to count their number, or measure their extent. Before we resolve to leap into this abyss, so dark and so profound, it becomes us to pause and reflect upon such of the dangers as are obvious and inevitable. If this assembly should be wrought into a temper to defy these consequences, it is vain, it is deceptive, to pretend that we can escape them. It is worse than weakness to say, that as to public faith our vote has already settled the question. Another tribunal than our own is already erected. The public opinion, not merely of our own country, but of the enlightened world, will pronounce judgment that we cannot resist, that we dare not even affect to despise.

Well may I urge it to men who know the worth of character, that it is no trivial calamity to have it contested. Refusing to do what the Treaty stipulates shall be done, opens the controversy. Even if we should stand justified at last, a character that is vindicated is something worse than it stood before, unquestioned and unquestionable. Like the plaintiff in an action of slander, we recover a reputation disfigured by invective, and even tarnished by too much handling. In the combat for the honor of the nation, it may receive some wounds, which, though they should heal, will leave some scars. I need not say, for surely the feelings of every bosom have anticipated, that we cannot guard this sense of national honor, this ever-living fire, which alone keeps patriotism warm in the heart, with a sensibility too vigilant and jealous. If, by executing the Treaty, there is no possibility of dishonor, and if by rejecting there is some foundation for doubt and for reproach, it is not for me to measure, it is for your own feelings to estimate the vast distance that divides the one side of the alternative from the other. If, therefore, we should enter on the examination of the question of duty and obligation with some feelings of prepossession, I do not hesitate to say, they are such as we ought to have; it is an after inquiry to determine whether they are such as ought finally to be resisted.

To expatiate on the value of public faith, may pass with some men for declamation; to such men I have nothing to say. To others I will urge, can any circumstance mark upon a people more turpitude and debasement? Can any thing tend more to make men think themselves mean, or degrade to a lower point their estimation of virtue and their standard of action? It would not merely demoralize mankind, it tends to break all the ligaments of society, to dissolve that mysterious charm which attracts individuals to the nation, and to inspire in its stead a repulsive sense of shame and disgust.

What is patriotism? Is it a narrow affection for the spot where a man was born? Are the very clods where we tread entitled to this ardent preference because they are greener? No, sir; this is not the character of the virtue, and it soars higher for its object. It is an extended self-love, mingling with all the enjoyments of life, and twisting itself with the minutest filaments of the heart. It is thus we obey the laws of society, because they are the laws of virtue. In their authority we see not the array of force and terror, but the venerable image of our country's honor. Every good citizen makes that honor his own, and cherishes it not only as precious but as sacred. He is willing to risk his life in its defence, and is conscious that he gains protection while he gives it. For what rights of a citizen will be deemed inviolable when a State renounces the principles that constitute their security? Or, if his life should not be invaded, what would its enjoyments be in a country odious to the eyes of strangers and dishonored in his own? Could he look with affection and veneration to such a country as his parent? The sense of having one would die within him; he would blush for his patriotism, if he retained any, and justly, for it would be a vice. He would be a banished man in his native land.

I see no exception to the respect that is paid among nations to the law of good faith. If there are cases in this enlightened period when it is violated, there are none when it is decried. It is the philosophy of politics--the religion of governments. It is observed by barbarians that a whiff of tobacco-smoke or a string of beads gives not merely binding force, but sanctity, to Treaties. Even in Algiers, a truce may be bought for money, but when ratified, even Algiers is too wise or too just to disown and annul its obligation. Thus, we see neither the ignorance of savages, nor the principles of an association for piracy and rapine, permit a nation to despise its engagements. If, sir, there could be a resurrection from the foot of the gallows; if the victims of justice could live again, collect together, and form a society, they would, however loth, soon find themselves obliged to make justice--that justice under which they fell--the fundamental law of their State. They would perceive it was their interest to make others respect, and they would therefore soon pay some respect themselves to the obligations of good faith.

The refusal of the posts (inevitable, if we reject the Treaty) is a measure too decisive in its nature to be neutral in its consequences. From great causes we are to look for great effects. A plain and obvious one will be, the price of the Western lands will fall. Settlers will not choose to fix their habitation on a field of battle. Those who talk so much of the interests of the United States, should calculate how deeply it will be affected by rejecting the Treaty--how vast a tract of wild land will almost cease to be property. This loss, let it be observed, will fall upon a fund expressly devoted to sink the National Debt. What then are we called upon to do? However the form of the vote and the protestations of many may disguise the proceeding, our resolution is in substance (and it deserves to wear the title of a resolution) to prevent the sale of the Western lands and the discharge of the public debt.

Will the tendency to Indian hostilities be contrasted by any one? Experience gives the answer. The frontiers were scourged with war till the negotiation with Britain was far advanced, and then the state of hostility ceased. Perhaps the public agents of both nations are innocent of fomenting the Indian war, and perhaps they are not. We ought not, however, to expect that neighboring nations, highly irritated against each other, will neglect the friendship of the savages. The traders will gain an influence, and will abuse it; and who is ignorant that their passions are easily raised, and hardly restrained from violence. Their situation will oblige them to choose between this country and Great Britain, in case the Treaty should be rejected. They will not be our friends, and at the same time the friends of our enemies.

But am I reduced to the necessity of proving this point? Certainly the very men who charged the Indian war on the detention of the posts will call for no other proof than the recital of their own speeches. It is remembered with what emphasis--with what acrimony--they expatiated on the burden of taxes, and the drain of blood and treasure into the Western country, in consequence of Britain's holding the posts. "Until the posts are restored," they exclaimed, "the Treasury and the frontiers must bleed."

If any, against all these proofs, should maintain that the peace with the Indians will be stable without the posts, to them I will urge another reply. From arguments calculated to produce conviction, I will appeal directly to the hearts of those who hear me, and ask whether it is not already planted there? I resort especially to the convictions of the Western gentlemen, whether, supposing no posts and no Treaty, the settlers will remain in security? Can they take it upon them to say that an Indian peace, under these circumstances, will prove firm. No, sir; it will not be peace, but a sword; it will be no better than a lure to draw victims within the reach of the tomahawk.

On this theme, my emotions are unutterable. If I could find words for them--if my powers bore any proportion to my zeal--I would swell my voice to such a note of remonstrance it should reach every log-house beyond the mountains. I would say to the inhabitants, Wake from your false security! Your cruel dangers--your more cruel apprehensions--are soon to be renewed; the wounds, yet unhealed, are to be torn open again. In the day-time, your path through the woods will be ambushed; the darkness of midnight will glitter with the blaze of your dwellings. You are a father: the blood of your sons shall fatten your corn-field! You are a mother: the war-whoop shall wake the sleep of the cradle!

On this subject you need not suspect any deception on your feelings. It is a spectacle of horror which cannot be overdrawn. If you have nature in your hearts, it will speak a language compared with which all I have said or can say will be poor and frigid.

Will it be whispered that the Treaty has made me a new champion for the protection of the frontiers? It is known that my voice, as well as my vote, have been uniformly given in conformity with the ideas I have expressed. Protection is the right of the frontier: it is our duty to give it.