from Texas, (O the dreadful deed of taking Texas and bringing a Mexican war upon us!), there is now no remedy. The solemn compact is made; and therefore it must be kept. There was not a man in our country more strongly opposed to making it, than Mr. Webster; he fought manfully against it; but now his crime is, that he has declared that solemn compacts must be observed. I ask now all my Northern brethren, whether, in letting Provisos alone, they sanction slavery, or come under any responsibility whatever for it? Not in the least. If the question was, whether they, conceding to them the power and the right to dictate concerning slavery, should vote in its favor, then comes a case which is to the point and fundamental. No! No! I say; I would hold out my right hand to have it cut off, sooner than lift it up for such a vote. I would not have upon my conscience the guilt of turning God's image, (redeemed by the blood of his Son, and made free by the Lord Jesus Christ himself), into goods and chattels. I would not bring on my soul that guilt, for ten thousand worlds. And I am quite certain that Mr. Webster has the same feeling, in its fullest extent. Nothing else is wanting in the present state of things, but to follow the counsels of Paul, as exhibited above. The North can never lift her hand, to extend the domain of slavery a single inch. But the North must keep solemn compacts, and take care never again to send such men tó Congress as will betray her. All the Texas trouble comes from this; for it was two northern Senators that brought defeat on those, who were opposing the Texan Resolutions. But if heated enthusiasts on both sides, will listen to no caution, and brook no delay of their measures, then let them take the awful responsibility on themselves. I wash my hands of the guilt of my country's blood. And when they have carried their measures, on either side, what is the next step? A war a war compared with which, the horrors of St. Domingo are but a faint image. And when the South, by united forces of enemies without and within, is turned to a desolate wilderness, where is the UNION, the once blessed and prosperous and glorious UNION? The North have prevailed; the slaves are free; but how many of them are left, to enjoy their freedom? And where are our white Southern brethren and fellow citizens? Buried beneath the ruins of houses and towns, set on fire and attacked by raging enemies. This view of dreaded scenes brings to my mind the story of an eastern Caliph in Bagdad. He had a factious Absalom for a son. He sent him, in order to get rid of his intrigues at Court, into the province of Aderbijan, as governor. He soon heard that he was making efforts, to excite that large and fertile province to revolt. The next news was, that he was in the field, with allied Turcomans as his assistants. The Vizier, who received this intelligence, immediately went and told the Caliph. Call, said he, the commander in chief of my troops. Speedily he came. 'Go,' said the enraged monarch, and gather all the forces of the empire that you can muster with speed, and march instantly to Aderbijan, and kill every man, woman, and child there; burn every house, and cut down every fruit tree.' The Vizier dared not interpose for the moment, for his Master's face was black with rage. The commander in chief of the army dared not to interpose. But after a little time, the Vizier returned, and prostrating himself on the earth before the Caliph, he said: Will my Lord suffer me to ask one question? Yes, said the monarch, if it does not interfere with my will and my orders. It shall interfere with neither, said the Vizier. My question is this: When your Majesty has laid your fairest province utterly waste and made it desolate, what domain will your Highness have over Aderbijan? The Caliph dismissed him, slept upon the matter, and the next morning countermanded his orders. I put now that solemn question to all who are urging the nation on to disruption and a war of desolation: Where will be the domain of the United States, when nearly one half of them is in smoking ruins? One word more concerning Mr. Webster, and then I have done. Suppose the violence of the present time succeeds in withdrawing the public confidence from him; and he retires from office and from public life. Suppose even the worst his enemies can wish him should come upon him, and he should go into the shades of retirement, and live and die there, unnoticed (if this be possible) and as it were unknown. The contest goes on, the country is involved in bitter and bloody war, and still his counsel is rejected and despised. But he soon leaves this earthly stage of action and of contest, and is gathered to his fathers, it may be without a monument or a eulogy to preserve his name. If all this can be supposed, and should actually take place; what then? Can the memory of such a man per ish? No; posterity, divested of partizan feeling and prejudice, will erect to him a lofty monument, which will be inscribed, on one façade, with these most significant words: Justum et tenacem propositi virum, Non civium ardor prava jubentium, On another façade, under his simple name, will be carved in high relief: O NOSTRUM ET DECUS ET COLUMEN! |