Iv.
And now, on the very threshold, I encounter the objection that there is a final settlement, in principle and substance, of the question of Slavery, and that all discussion of it is closed. Both the old political parties of the country, by formal resolutions, in their recent conventions at Baltimore, have united in this declaration. On a subject which for years has agitated the public mind; which yet palpitates in every heart and burns on every tongue; which, in its immeasurable importance, dwarfs all other subjects; which, by its constant and gigantic presence, throws a shadow across these Halls; which at this very time calls for appropriations to meet extraordinary expenses it has caused, they have imposed the rule of silence. According to them, sir, we may speak of everything except that alone, which is most present in all our minds. To this combined effort I might fitly reply, that, with flagrant inconsistency, it challenges the very discussion which it pretends to forbid. Such a declaration, on the eve of an election, is, of course, submitted to the consideration and ratification of the people. Debate, inquiry, discussion, are the necessary consequence. Silence becomes impossible. Slavery, which you profess to banish from the public attention, openly by your invitation enters every political meeting and every political convention. Nay, at this moment it stalks into this Senate, crying, like the daughters of the horseleech, ‘Give, give!’ But no unanimity of politicians can uphold the baseless assumption, that a law, or any conglomerate of laws, under the name of Compromise, or howsoever called, is final. Nothing can be plainer than this; that, by no parliamentary device or knot, can any Legislature tie the hands of a succeeding Legislature, so as to prevent the full exercise of its constitutional powers. Each Legislature, under a just sense of its responsibility, must judge for itself; and, if it think proper, it may revise or amend, or absolutely undo the work of its predecessors. The laws of the Medes and Persians are proverbially said to have been unalterable; but they stand forth in history as a single example of such irrational defiance of the true principles of all law. [118] To make a law final, so as not to be reached by Congress, is, by mere legislation, to fasten a new provision on the Constitution. Nay, more; it gives to the law a character which the very Constitution does not possess. The wise fathers did not treat the country as a Chinese foot, never to grow after infancy; but, anticipating Progress, they declared expressly that their great Act is not final. According to the Constitution itself, there is not one of its existing provisions—not even that with regard to fugitives from labor—which may not at all times be reached by amendment, and thus be drawn into debate. This is rational and just. Sir, nothing from man's hands, nor law, nor constitution, can be final. Truth alone is final. Inconsistent and absurd, this effort is tyrannical also. The responsibility for the recent Slave Act and for Slavery everywhere within the jurisdiction of Congress necessarily involves the right to discuss them. To separate these is impossible. Like the twenty-fifth rule of the House of Representatives against petitions on Slavery—now repealed and dishonored—the Compromise, as explained and urged, is a curtailment of the actual powers of legislation, and a perpetual denial of the indisputable principle that the right to deliberate is co-extensive with the responsibility for an act. To sustain Slavery, it is now proposed to trample on free speech. In any country this would be grievous; but here, where the Constitution expressly provides against abridging freedom of speech, it is a special outrage. In vain do we condemn the despotisms of Europe, while we borrow the rigors with which they repress Liberty, and guard their own uncertain power. For myself, in no factious spirit, but solemnly and in loyalty to the Constitution, as a Senator of the United States, representing a free Commonwealth, I protest against this wrong. On Slavery, as on every other subject, I claim the right to be heard. That right I cannot, I will not abandon. ‘Give me the liberty to know, to utter and to argue freely, above all liberties;’ these are the glowing words which flashed from the soul of John Milton, in his struggles with English tyranny. With equal fervor they should be echoed now by every American, not already a slave. But, sir, this effort is impotent as tyrannical. The convictions of the heart cannot be repressed. The utterances of conscience must be heard. They break forth with irrepressible might. As well attempt to check the tides of Ocean, the currents of the Mississippi, or the rushing waters of Niagara. The discussion of Slavery will proceed, wherever two or three are gathered together—by the fireside, on the highway, at the public meeting, in the church. The movement against [119] Slavery is from the Everlasting Arm. Even now it is gathering its forces, soon to be confessed everywhere. It may not yet be felt in high places of office and power; but all who can put their ears humbly to the ground, will hear and comprehend its incessant and advancing tread.
