Volume 1 — SPEECHES, &c. (continued 10)

A message was also conveyed to me, during the discussion, through a member of the house, to ascertain if I would be satisfied with an explanation which was put on paper and shown me, and which it was stated Mr. Kremer was willing, in his place, to make. I replied that the matter was in the possession of the house. I was afterwards told, that Mr. Ingham, of Pennsylvania, got hold of that paper, put it in his pocket, and that he advised Mr. Kremer to take no step without the approbation of his friends. Mr. Cook, of Illinois, moved an adjournment of the house, on information which he received of the probability of Mr. Kremer’s making a satisfactory atonement on the next day, for the injury which he had done me, which I have no doubt he would have made, if he had been left to the impulses of his native honesty. The house decided to refer my communication to a committee, and adjourned until the next day to appoint it by ballot. In the mean time Mr. Kremer had taken, I presume, or rather there had been forced upon him, the advice of his friends, and I heard no more of the apology. A committee was appointed of seven gentlemen, of whom not one was my political friend, but who were among the most eminent members of the body. I received no summons or notification from the committee from its first organization to its final dissolution, but Mr. Kremer was called upon by it to bring forward his proofs. For one moment be pleased to stop here and contemplate his posture, his relation to the house and to me, and the high obligations under which he had voluntarily placed himself. He was a member of one of the most august assemblies upon earth, of which he was bound to defend the purity or expose the corruption by every consideration which ought to influence a patriot bosom. A most responsible and highly important constitutional duty was to be performed by that assembly. He had chosen, in an anonymous letter, to bring against its presiding officer charges, in respect to that duty, of the most flagitious character. These charges comprehend delegations from several highly respectable states. If true, that presiding officer merited not merely to be dragged from the chair, but to be expelled the house. He challenges an investigation into his conduct, and Mr. Kremer boldly accepts the challenge, and promises to sustain his accusation. The committee appointed by the house itself, with the common consent of both parties, calls upon Mr. Kremer to execute his pledge publicly given, in his proper place, and also previously given in the public prints. Here is the theatre of the alleged arrangements; this the vicinage in which the trial ought to take place. Every thing was here fresh in the recollection of the witnesses, if there were any. Here all the proofs were concentrated. Mr. Kremer was stimulated by every motive which could impel to action; by his consistency of character; by duty to his constituents, to his country; by that of redeeming his solemn pledge; by his anxious wish for the success of his favorite, whose interests could not fail to be advanced by supporting his atrocious charges. But Mr. Kremer had now the benefit of the advice of his friends. He had no proofs, for the plainest of all reasons, because there was no truth in his charges. They saw that to attempt to establish them and to fail, as he must fail in the attempt, might lead to an exposure of the conspiracy, of which he was the organ. They advised, therefore, that he should make a retreat, and their adroitness suggested, that in an objection to that jurisdiction of the house, which had been admitted, and in the popular topics of the freedom of the press, his duty to his constituents, and the inequality in the condition of the speaker of the house, and a member on the floor, plausible means might be found to deceive the ignorant and conceal his disgrace. A labored communication was accordingly prepared by them, in Mr. Kremer’s name, and transmitted to the committee, founded upon these suggestions. Thus the valiant champion, who had boldly stepped forward, and promised, as a representative of the people, to ‘cry aloud and spare not,’ forgot all his gratuitous gallantry and boasted patriotism, and sank at once into profound silence.

With these remarks, I will for the present leave him, and proceed to assign the reasons to you, to whom alone I admit myself to be officially responsible, for the vote which I gave on the presidential election. The first inquiry which it behooved me to make was, as to the influence which ought to be exerted on my judgment, by the relative slate of the electoral votes which the three returned candidates brought into the house from the colleges. General Jackson obtained ninety-nine, Mr. Adams eighty-four, and Mr. Crawford forty-one. Ought the fact of a plurality being given to one of the candidates to have any, and what, weight? If the constitution had intended that it should have been decisive, the constitution would have made it decisive, and interdicted the exercise of any discretion, on the part of the house of representatives. The constitution has not so ordained, but, on the contrary, it has provided, that ‘from the persons having the highest numbers, not exceeding three, on the list of those voted for as president, the house of representatives shall choose, immediately, by ballot, a president.’ Thus a discretion is necessarily invested in the house; for choice implies examination, comparison, judgment. The fact, therefore, that one of the three persons was the highest returned, not being, by the constitution of the country, conclusive upon the judgment of the house, it still remains to determine what is the true degree of weight belonging to it? It has been contended that it should operate, if not as an instruction, at least in the nature of one, and that in this form it should control the judgment of the house. But this is the same argument of conclusiveness which the constitution does not enjoin, thrown into a different but more imposing shape. Let me analyze it. There are certain states, the aggregate of whose electoral votes conferred upon the highest returned candidate, indicate their wish that he should be the president. Their votes amount in number to ninety-nine, out of two hundred and sixty-one electoral votes of the whole union. These ninety-nine do not, and cannot, of themselves, make the president. If the fact of particular states giving ninety-nine votes, can, according to any received notions of the doctrine of instruction, be regarded in that light, to whom are those instructions to be considered addressed? According to that doctrine, the people who appoint, have the right to direct, by their instruction, in certain cases, the course of the representative whom they appoint. The states, therefore, who gave those ninety-nine votes, may in some sense be understood thereby to have instructed their representatives in the house to vote for the person on whom they were bestowed, in the choice of a president. But most clearly the representatives coming from other states, which gave no part of those ninety-nine votes, cannot be considered as having been under any obligation to surrender their judgments to those of the states which gave the ninety-nine votes. To contend that they are under such an obligation, would be to maintain that the people of one state have a right to instruct the representatives from another state. It would be to maintain a still more absurd proposition; that in a case where the representatives from a state did not hold themselves instructed and bound by the will of that state, as indicated in its electoral college, the representatives from another state were, nevertheless, instructed and bound by that alien will. Thus the entire vote of North Carolina, and a large majority of that of Maryland, in their respective electoral colleges, were given to one of the three returned candidates, for whom the delegation from neither of those states voted. And yet the argument combated requires that the delegation from Kentucky, who do not represent the people of North Carolina nor Maryland, should be instructed by, and give an effect to, the indicated will of the people of those two states, when their own delegation paid no attention to it. Doubtless, those delegations felt themselves authorized to look into the actual composition of, and all other circumstances connected with, the majorities which gave the electoral votes, in their respective states; and felt themselves justified, from a view of the whole ground, to act upon their responsibility, and according to their best judgments, disregarding the electoral votes in their states. And are representatives from a different state not only bound by the will of the people of a different commonwealth, but forbidden to examine into the manner by which the expression of that will was brought about—an examination which the immediate representatives themselves, feel it their duty to make?

Is the fact, then, of a plurality to have no weight? Far from it. Here are twenty-four communities united under a common government. The expression of the will of any one of them is entitled to the most respectful attention. It ought to be patiently heard and kindly regarded by the others; but it cannot be admitted to be conclusive upon them. The expression of the will of ninety-nine out of two hundred and sixty-one electors, is entitled to very great attention, but that will cannot be considered as entitled to control the will of the one hundred and sixty-two electors who have manifested a different will. To give it such controlling influence, would be a subversion of the fundamental maxim of the republic—that the majority should govern. The will of the ninety-nine can neither be allowed rightfully to control the remaining one hundred and sixty-two, nor any one of the one hundred and sixty-two electoral votes. It may be an argument, a persuasion, addressed to all and to each of them, but it is binding and obligatory upon none. It follows, then, that the fact of a plurality was only one among the various considerations which the house was called upon to weigh, in making up its judgment. And the weight of the consideration ought to have been regulated by the extent of the plurality. As between general Jackson and Mr. Adams, the vote standing in the proportions of ninety-nine to eighty-four, it was entitled to less weight; as between the general and Mr. Crawford, it was entitled to more, the vote being as ninety-nine to forty-one. The concession may even be made that, upon the supposition of an equality of pretensions between competing candidates, the preponderance ought to be given to the fact of a plurality.

With these views of the relative state of the vote with which the three returned candidates entered the house, I proceeded to examine the other considerations which belonged to the question. For Mr. Crawford, who barely entered the house, with only four votes more than one candidate not returned, and upon whose case, therefore, the argument derived from the fact of plurality operated with strong, though not decisive force, I have ever felt much personal regard. But I was called upon to perform a solemn public duty, in which my private feelings, whether of affection or aversion, were not to be indulged, but the good of my country only consulted. It appeared to me that the precarious state of that gentleman’s health, although I participated with his best friends in all their regrets and sympathies on account of it, was conclusive against him, to say nothing of other considerations of a public nature, which would have deserved examination if, happily, in that respect he had been differently circumstanced. He had been ill near eighteen months; and, although I am aware that his actual condition was a fact depending upon evidence, and that the evidence in regard to it, which had been presented to the public, was not perfectly harmonious, I judged for myself upon what I saw and heard. He may, and I ardently hope will, recover; but I did not think it became me to assist in committing the executive administration of this great republic, on the doubtful contingency of the restoration to health of a gentleman who had been so long and so seriously afflicted. Moreover, if, under all the circumstances of his situation, his election had been desirable, I did not think it practicable. I believed, and yet believe, that, if the votes of the western states, given to Mr. Adams, had been conferred on Mr. Crawford, the effect would have been to protract in the house the decision of the contest, to the great agitation and distraction of the country, and possibly to defeat an election altogether; the very worst result, I thought, that could happen. It appeared to me, then, that, sooner or later, we must arrive at the only practical issue of the contest before us, and that was between Mr. Adams and general Jackson, and I thought that the earlier we got there, the better for the country, and for the house.

In considering this only alternative, I was not unaware of your strong desire to have a western president; but I thought that I knew enough of your patriotism and magnanimity, displayed on so many occasions, to believe that you could rise above the mere gratification of sectional pride, if the common good of the whole required you to make the sacrifice of local partiality. I solemnly believed it did, and this brings me to the most important consideration which belonged to the whole subject—that arising out of the respective fitness of the only two real competitors, as it appeared to my best judgment. In speaking of general Jackson, I am aware of the delicacy and respect which are justly due to that distinguished citizen. It is far from my purpose to attempt to disparage him. I could not do it if I were capable of making the attempt; but I shall nevertheless speak of him, as becomes me, with truth. I did not believe him so competent to discharge the various, intricate, and complex duties of the office of chief magistrate, as his competitor. He has displayed great skill and bravery, as a military commander, and his own renown will endure as long as the means exist of preserving a recollection of human transactions. But to be qualified to discharge the duties of president of the United States, the incumbent must have more than mere military attainments—he must be a STATESMAN. An individual may be a gallant and successful general, an eminent lawyer, an eloquent divine, a learned physician, or an accomplished artist; and doubtless the union of all these characters in the person of a chief magistrate would be desirable, but no one of them, nor all combined, will qualify him to be president, unless he superadds that indispensable requisite of being a statesman. Far from meaning to say that it is an objection to the elevation to the chief magistracy of any person, that he is a military commander, if he unites the other qualifications, I only intend to say that, whatever may be the success or splendor of his military achievements, if his qualifications be only military, that is an objection, and I think a decisive objection, to his election. If general Jackson has exhibited, either in the councils of the union, or in those of his own state, or in those of any other state or territory, the qualities of a statesman, the evidence of the fact has escaped my observation. It would be as painful as it is unnecessary, to recapitulate some of the incidents, which must be fresh in your recollection, of his public life. But I was greatly deceived in my judgment if they proved him to be endowed with that prudence, temper, and discretion, which are necessary for civil administration. It was in vain to remind me of the illustrious example of Washington. There was in that extraordinary person, united, a serenity of mind, a cool and collected wisdom, a cautious and deliberate judgment, a perfect command of the passions, and, throughout his whole life, a familiarity and acquaintance with business, and civil transactions, which rarely characterize any human being. No man was ever more deeply penetrated than he was, with profound respect for the safe and necessary principle of the entire subordination of the military to the civil authority. I hope I do no injustice to general Jackson when I say, that I could not recognise, in his public conduct, those attainments, for both civil government and military command, which contemporaries and posterity have alike unanimously concurred in awarding as yet only to the father of his country. I was sensible of the gratitude which the people of this country justly feel towards general Jackson, for his brilliant military services. But the impulses of public gratitude should be controlled, as it appeared to me, by reason and discretion, and I was not prepared blindly to surrender myself to the hazardous indulgence of a feeling, however amiable and excellent that feeling may be, when properly directed. It did not seem to me to be wise or prudent, if, as I solemnly believe, general Jackson’s competency for the office was highly questionable, that he should be placed in a situation where neither his fame nor the public interests would be advanced. General Jackson himself would be the last man to recommend or vote for any one for a place for which he thought him unfit. I felt myself sustained by his own reasoning, in his letter to Mr. Monroe, in which, speaking of the qualifications of our venerable Shelby for the department of war, he remarked: ‘I am compelled to say to you, that the acquirements of this worthy man are not competent to the discharge of the multiplied duties of this department. I therefore hope he may not accept the appointment. I am fearful, if he does, he will not add much splendor to his present well-earned standing as a public character.’ Such was my opinion of general Jackson, in reference to the presidency. His conviction of governor Shelby’s unfitness, by the habits of his life, for the appointment of secretary of war, were not more honest nor stronger than mine were of his own want of experience, and the necessary civil qualifications to discharge the duties of a president of the United States. In his elevation to this office, too, I thought I perceived the establishment of a fearful precedent; and I am mistaken in all the warnings of instructive history, if I erred in my judgment. Undoubtedly there are other and many dangers to public liberty, besides that which proceeds from military idolatry; but I have yet to acquire the knowledge of it, if there be one more perilous, or more frequent.

Whether Mr. Adams would or would not have been my choice of a president, if I had been left freely to select from the whole mass of American citizens, was not the question submitted to my decision. I had no such liberty; but I was circumscribed, in the selection I had to make, to one of the three gentlemen whom the people themselves had thought proper to present to the house of representatives. Whatever objections might be supposed to exist against him, still greater appeared to me to apply to his competitor. Of Mr. Adams, it is but truth and justice to say, that he is highly gifted, profoundly learned, and long and greatly experienced in public affairs, at home and abroad. Intimately conversant with the rise and progress of every negotiation with foreign powers, pending or concluded; personally acquainted with the capacity and attainments of most of the public men of this country, whom it might be proper to employ in the public service; extensively possessed of much of that valuable kind of information which is to be acquired neither from books nor tradition, but which is the fruit of largely participating in public affairs; discreet and sagacious; he would enter upon the duties of the office with great advantages. I saw in his election the establishment of no dangerous example. I saw in it, on the contrary, only conformity to the safe precedents which had been established in the instances of Mr. Jefferson, Mr. Madison, and Mr. Monroe, who had respectively filled the same office from which he was to be translated.

A collateral consideration of much weight, was derived from the wishes of the Ohio delegation. A majority of it, during the progress of the session, made up their opinions to support Mr. Adams, and they were communicated to me. They said, ‘Ohio supported the candidate who was the choice of Kentucky. We failed in our common exertions to secure his election. Now, among those returned, we have a decided preference, and we think you ought to make some sacrifice to gratify us.’ Was not much due to our neighbor and friend?

I considered, with the greatest respect, the resolution of the general assembly of Kentucky, requesting the delegation to vote for general Jackson. That resolution, it is true, placed us in a peculiar situation. Whilst every other delegation, from every other state in the union, was left by its legislature entirely free to examine the pretensions of all the candidates, and to form its unbiased judgment, the general assembly of Kentucky thought proper to interpose, and request the delegation to give its vote to one of the candidates, whom they were pleased to designate. I felt a sincere desire to comply with a request emanating from a source so respectable, if I could have done so consistently with those paramount duties which I owed to you and to the country. But, after full and anxious consideration, I found it incompatible with my best judgment of those duties, to conform to the request of the general assembly. The resolution asserts, that it was the wish of the people of Kentucky, that their delegation should vote for the general. It did not inform me by what means that body had arrived at a knowledge of the wish of the people. I knew that its members had repaired to Frankfort before I departed from home to come to Washington. I knew that their attention was fixed on important local concerns, well entitled, by their magnitude, exclusively to engross it. No election, no general expression of the popular sentiment, had occurred since that in November, when electors were chosen, and at that the people, by an overwhelming majority, had decided against general Jackson. I could not see how such an expression against him, could be interpreted into that of a desire for his election. If, as is true, the candidate whom they preferred was not returned to the house, it is equally true that the state of the contest, as it presented itself here to me, had never been considered, discussed, and decided by the people of Kentucky, in their collective capacity. What would have been their decision on this new state of the question, I might have undertaken to conjecture, but the certainty of any conclusion of fact, as to their opinion, at which I could arrive, was by no means equal to that certainty of conviction of my duty to which I was carried by the exertion of my best and most deliberate reflections. The letters from home, which some of the delegation received, expressed the most opposite opinions, and there were not wanting instances of letters from some of the very members who had voted for that resolution, advising a different course. I received from a highly respectable portion of my constituents a paper, instructing me as follows:

‘We, the undersigned voters in the congressional district, having viewed the instruction or request of the legislature of Kentucky, on the subject of choosing a president and vice-president of the United States, with regret, and the said request or instruction to our representative in congress from this district being without our knowledge or consent, we, for many reasons known to ourselves, connected with so momentous an occasion, hereby instruct our representative in congress to vote on this occasion agreeably to his own judgment, and the best lights he may have on the subject, with or without the consent of the legislature of Kentucky.’

This instruction came both unexpectedly and unsolicited by me, and it was accompanied by letters assuring me that it expressed the opinion of a majority of my constituents. I could not, therefore, regard the resolution as conclusive evidence of your wishes.

Viewed as a mere request, as it purported to be, the general assembly doubtless had the power to make it. But, then, with deference, I think it was worthy of serious consideration, whether the dignity of the general assembly ought not to have induced it to forbear addressing itself, not to another legislative body, but to a small part of it, and requesting the members who composed that part, in a case which the constitution had confided to them, to vote according to the wishes of the general assembly, whether those wishes did or did not conform to their sense of duty. I could not regard the resolution as an instruction; for, from the origin of our state, its legislature has never assumed or exercised the right to instruct the representatives in congress. I did not recognise the right, therefore, of the legislature, to instruct me. I recognised that right only when exerted by you. That the portion of the public servants who made up the general assembly, have no right to instruct that portion of them who constituted the Kentucky delegation in the house of representatives, is a proposition too clear to be argued. The members of the general assembly would have been the first to behold as a presumptuous interposition, any instruction, if the Kentucky delegation could have committed the absurdity to issue, from this place, any instruction to them to vote in a particular manner on any of the interesting subjects which lately engaged their attention at Frankfort. And although nothing is further from my intention than to impute either absurdity or presumption to the general assembly, in the adoption of the resolution referred to, I must say, that the difference between an instruction emanating from them to the delegation, and from the delegation to them, is not in principle, but is to be found only in the degree of superior importance which belongs to the general assembly.

Entertaining these views of the election on which it was made my duty to vote, I felt myself bound, in the exercise of my best judgment, to prefer Mr. Adams; and I accordingly voted for him. I should have been highly gratified if it had not been my duty to vote on the occasion; but that was not my situation, and I did not choose to shrink from any responsibility which appertained to your representative. Shortly after the election, it was rumored that Mr. Kremer was preparing a publication, and the preparations for it which were making excited much expectation. Accordingly, on the twenty-sixth of February, the address, under his name, to the ‘electors of the ninth congressional district of the state of Pennsylvania,’ made its appearance in the Washington City Gazette. No member of the house, I am persuaded, believed that Mr. Kremer ever wrote one paragraph of that address, or of the plea, which was presented to the committee, to the jurisdiction of the house. Those who counselled him, and composed both papers, and their purposes, were just as well known as the author of any report from a committee to the house. The first observation which is called for by the address is the place of its publication. That place was in this city, remote from the centre of Pennsylvania, near which Mr. Kremer’s district is situated, and in a paper having but a very limited, if any circulation in it. The time is also remarkable. The fact that the president intended to nominate me to the senate for the office which I now hold, in the course of a few days, was then well known, and the publication of the address was, no doubt, made less with an intention to communicate information to the electors of the ninth congressional district of Pennsylvania, than to affect the decision of the senate on the intended nomination. Of the character and contents of that address of Messrs. George Kremer & Co., made up, as it is, of assertion without proof, of inferences without premises, and of careless, jocose, and quizzing conversations of some of my friends, to which I was no party, and of which I had never heard, it is not my intention to say much. It carried its own refutation, and the parties concerned saw its abortive nature the next day, in the indignant countenance of every unprejudiced and honorable member. In his card, Mr. Kremer had been made to say, that he held himself ready ‘to prove, to the satisfaction of unprejudiced minds, enough to satisfy them of the accuracy of the statements which are contained in that letter, to the extent that they concerned the course of conduct of H. Clay.’ The object for excluding my friends from this pledge has been noticed. But now the election was decided, and there no longer existed a motive for discrimination between them and me. Hence the only statements that are made, in the address, having the semblance of proof, relate rather to them than to me; and the design was, by establishing something like facts upon them, to make those facts react upon me.

Of the few topics of the address upon which I shall remark, the first is, the accusation brought forward against me, of violating instructions. If the accusation were true, who was the party offended, and to whom I was amenable? If I violated any instructions, they must have been yours, since you only had the right to give them, and to you alone was I responsible. Without allowing hardly time for you to hear of my vote, without waiting to know what your judgment was of my conduct, George Kremer & Co. chose to arraign me before the American public as the violater of instructions which I was bound to obey. If, instead of being, as you are, and I hope always will be, vigilant observers of the conduct of your public agents, jealous of your rights, and competent to protect and defend them, you had been ignorant and culpably confiding, the gratuitous interposition, as your advocate, of the honorable George Kremer, of the ninth congressional district in Pennsylvania, would have merited your most grateful acknowledgments. Even upon that supposition, his arraignment of me would have required for its support one small circumstance, which happens not to exist, and that is, the fact of your having actually instructed me to vote according to his pleasure.

The relations in which I stood to Mr. Adams constitute the next theme of the address, which I shall notice. I am described as having assumed ‘a position of peculiar and decided hostility to the election of Mr. Adams,’ and expressions towards him are attributed to me, which I never used. I am also made responsible for ‘pamphlets and essays of great ability,’ published by my friends in Kentucky in the course of the canvass. The injustice of the principle of holding me thus answerable, may be tested by applying it to the case of general Jackson, in reference to publications issued, for example, from the Columbia Observer. That I was not in favor of the election of Mr. Adams, when the contest was before the people, is most certain. Neither was I in favor of that of Mr. Crawford or general Jackson. That I ever did any thing against Mr. Adams, or either of the other gentlemen, inconsistent with a fair and honorable competition, I utterly deny. My relations to Mr. Adams have been the subject of much misconception, if not misrepresentation. I have been stated to be under a public pledge to expose some nefarious conduct of that gentleman, during the negotiation at Ghent, which would prove him to be entirely unworthy of public confidence; and that, with the knowledge of his perfidy, I nevertheless voted for him. If these imputations are well founded, I should, indeed, be a fit object of public censure; but if, on the contrary, it shall be found that others, inimical both to him and to me, have substituted their own interested wishes for my public promises, I trust that the indignation, which they would excite, will be turned from me. My letter, addressed to the editors of the Intelligencer, under date of the fifteenth of November, 1822, is made the occasion for ascribing to me the promise and the pledge to make those treasonable disclosures on Mr. Adams. Let that letter speak for itself, and it will be seen how little justice there is for such an assertion. It adverts to the controversy which had arisen between Messrs. Adams and Russell, and then proceeds to state that, ‘in the course of several publications, of which it has been the occasion, and particularly in the appendix to a pamphlet, which had been recently published by the honorable John Quincy Adams, I think there are some errors, no doubt unintentional, both as to matters of fact and matters of opinion, in regard to the transactions at Ghent, relating to the navigation of the Mississippi, and certain liberties claimed by the United States in the fisheries, and to the part which I bore in those transactions. These important interests are now well secured.’ ‘An account, therefore, of what occurred in the negotiation at Ghent, on those two subjects, is not, perhaps, necessary to the present or future security of any of the rights of the nation, and is only interesting as appertaining to its past history. With these impressions, and being extremely unwilling to present myself, at any time, before the public, I had almost resolved to remain silent, and thus expose myself to the inference of an acquiescence in the correctness of all the statements made by both my colleagues; but I have, on more reflection, thought it may be expected of me, and be considered as a duty on my part, to contribute all in my power towards a full and faithful understanding of the transactions referred to. Under this conviction, I will, at some future period, more propitious than the present to calm and dispassionate consideration, and when there can be no misinterpretation of motives, lay before the public a narrative of those transactions, as I understood them.’

From even a careless perusal of that letter, it is apparent, that the only two subjects of the negotiations at Ghent, to which it refers, were the navigation of the Mississippi, and certain fishing liberties; that the errors which I had supposed were committed, applied to both Mr. Russell and Mr. Adams, though more particularly to the appendix of the latter; that they were unintentional, that they affected myself principally; that I deemed them of no public importance, as connected with the then, or future security of any of the rights of the nation, but only interesting to its past history; that I doubted the necessity of my offering to the public any account of those transactions; and that the narrative which I promised was to be presented at a season of more calm, and when there could be no misinterpretation of motives. Although Mr. Adams believes otherwise, I yet think there are some unintentional errors in the controversial papers between him and Mr. Russell. But I have reserved to myself an exclusive right of judging when I shall execute the promise which I have made, and I shall be neither quickened nor retarded in its performance by the friendly anxieties of any of my opponents.

If injury accrue to any one by the delay in publishing the narrative, the public will not suffer by it. It is already known by the publication of the British and American projets, the protocols, and the correspondence between the respective plenipotentiaries, that the British government made at Ghent a demand of the navigation of the Mississippi, by an article in their projet nearly in the same words as those which were employed in the treaty of 1783; that a majority of the American commissioners was in favor of acceding to that demand, upon the condition that the British government would concede to us the same fishing liberties within their jurisdiction, as were secured to us by the same treaty of 1783; and that both demands were finally abandoned. The fact of these mutual propositions was communicated by me to the American public in a speech which I delivered in the house of representatives, on the twenty-ninth day of January, 1816. Mr. Hopkinson had arraigned the terms of the treaty of peace, and charged upon the war and the administration the loss of the fishing liberties, within the British jurisdiction, which we enjoyed prior to the war. In vindicating, in my reply to him, the course of the government, and the conditions of the peace, I stated:

‘When the British commissioners demanded, in their projet, a renewal to Great Britain of the right to the navigation of the Mississippi, secured by the treaty of 1783, a bare majority of the American commissioners offered to renew it, upon the condition that the liberties in question were renewed to us. I was not one of that majority. I will not trouble the committee with my reasons for being opposed to the offer. A majority of my colleagues, actuated, I believe, by the best motives, made, however, the offer, and it was refused by the British commissioners.’

And what I thought of my colleagues of the majority, appears from the same extract. The spring after the termination of the negotiations at Ghent, I went to London, and entered upon a new and highly important negotiation with two of them, (Messrs. Adams and Gallatin,) which resulted, on the third day of July, 1815, in the commercial convention, which has been since made the basis of most of our commercial arrangements with foreign powers. Now, if I had discovered at Ghent, as has been asserted, that either of them was false and faithless to his country, would I have voluntarily commenced with them another negotiation? Further: there never has been a period, during our whole acquaintance, that Mr. Adams and I have not exchanged, when we have met, friendly salutations, and the courtesies and hospitalities of social intercourse.

The address proceeds to characterize the support which I gave to Mr. Adams as unnatural. The authors of the address have not stated why it is unnatural, and we are therefore left to conjecture their meaning. Is it because Mr. Adams is from New England, and I am a citizen of the west? If it be unnatural in the western states to support a citizen of New England, it must be equally unnatural in the New England states to support a citizen of the west. And, on the same principle, the New England states ought to be restrained from concurring in the election of a citizen of the southern states, or the southern states from coöperating in the election of a citizen of New England. And, consequently, the support which the last three presidents have derived from New England, and that which the vice-president recently received, has been most unnaturally given. The tendency of such reasoning would be to denationalize us, and to contract every part of the union within the narrow, selfish limits of its own section. It would be still worse; it would lead to the destruction of the union itself. For if it be unnatural in one section to support a citizen in another, the union itself must be unnatural; all our ties, all our glories, all that is animating in the past, all that is bright and cheering in the future, must be unnatural. Happily, such is the admirable texture of our union, that the interests of all its parts are closely interwoven. If there are strong points of affinity between the south and the west, there are interests of not less, if not greater, strength and vigor, binding the west, and the north, and the east.

Before I close this address, it is my duty, which I proceed to perform with great regret, on account of the occasion which calls for it, to invite your attention to a letter, addressed by general Jackson to Mr. Swartwout, on the twenty-third day of February last. The names of both the general and myself had been before the American public for its highest office. We had both been unsuccessful. The unfortunate have usually some sympathy for each other. For myself, I claim no merit for the cheerful acquiescence which I have given in a result by which I was excluded from the house. I have believed that the decision by the constituted authorities, in favor of others, has been founded upon a conviction of the superiority of their pretensions. It has been my habit, when an election is once decided, to forget, as soon as possible, all the irritating circumstances which attended the preceding canvass. If one be successful, he should be content with his success. If he have lost it, railing will do no good. I never gave general Jackson nor his friends any reason to believe that I would, in any contingency, support him. He had, as I thought, no public claim, and, I will now add, no personal claims, if these ought to be ever considered, to my support. No one, therefore, ought to have been disappointed or chagrined that I did not vote for him, no more than I was neither surprised nor disappointed that he did not, on a more recent occasion, feel it to be his duty to vote for me. After commenting upon a particular phrase used in my letter to judge Brooke, a calm reconsideration of which will, I think, satisfy any person that it was not employed in an offensive sense, if indeed it have an offensive sense, the general, in his letter to Mr. Swartwout, proceeds to remark: ‘No one beheld me seeking, through art or management, to entice any representative in congress from a conscientious responsibility of his own, or the wishes of his constituents. No midnight taper burnt by me; no secret conclaves were held, nor cabals entered into to persuade any one to a violation of pledges given, or of instructions received. By me no plans were concerted to impair the pure principles of our republican institutions, nor to prostrate that fundamental maxim which maintains the supremacy of the people’s will. On the contrary, having never in any manner, before the people or congress, interfered in the slightest degree with the question, my conscience stands void of offence, and will go quietly with me, regardless of the insinuations of those who, through management, may seek an influence not sanctioned by integrity and merit.’ I am not aware that this defence of himself was rendered necessary by any charges brought forward against the general. Certainly I never made any such charges against him. I will not suppose that, in the passage cited, he intended to impute to me the misconduct which he describes, and yet, taking the whole context of his letter together, and coupling it with Mr. Kremer’s address, it cannot be disguised that others may suppose he intended to refer to me. I am quite sure that, if he did, he could not have formed those unfavorable opinions of me upon any personal observation of my conduct made by himself; for a supposition that they were founded upon his own knowledge, would imply that my lodgings and my person had been subjected to a system of espionage wholly incompatible with the open, manly, and honorable conduct of a gallant soldier. If he designed any insinuations against me, I must believe that he made them upon the information of others, of whom I can only say that they have deceived his credulity, and are entirely unworthy of all credit. I entered into no cabals; I held no secret conclaves; I enticed no man to violate pledges given or instructions received. The members from Ohio, and from the other western states, with whom I voted, were all of them as competent as I was to form an opinion on the pending election. The McArthurs and the Metcalfs, and the other gentlemen from the west, (some of whom have, if I have not, bravely ‘made an effort to repel an invading foe,’) are as incapable of dishonor as any men breathing; as disinterested, as unambitious, as exclusively devoted to the best interests of their country. It was quite as likely that I should be influenced by them, as that I could control their votes. Our object was not to impair, but to preserve from all danger, the purity of our republican institutions. And how I prostrated the maxim which maintains the supremacy of the people’s will, I am entirely at a loss to comprehend. The illusions of the general’s imagination deceive him. The people of the United States had never decided the election in his favor. If the people had willed his election, he would have been elected. It was because they had not willed his election, nor that of any other candidate, that the duty of making a choice devolved on the house of representatives. The general remarks:

‘Mr. Clay has never yet risked himself for his country. He has never sacrificed his repose, nor made an effort to repel an invading foe; of course his conscience assured him it was altogether wrong in any other man to lead his countrymen to battle and victory.’

The logic of this conclusion is not very striking. General Jackson fights better than he reasons. When have I failed to concur in awarding appropriate honors to those who, on the sea or on the land, have sustained the glory of our arms, if I could not always approve of the acts of some of them? It is true, that it has been my misfortune never to have repelled an invading foe, nor to have led my countrymen to victory. If I had, I should have left to others to proclaim and appreciate the deed. The general’s destiny and mine have led us in different directions. In the civil employments of my country, to which I have been confined, I regret that the little service which I have been able to render it falls far short of my wishes. But why this denunciation of those who have not repelled an invading foe, or led our armies to victory? At the very moment when he is inveighing against an objection to his election to the presidency, founded upon the exclusive military nature of his merits, does he not perceive that he is establishing its validity by proscribing every man who has not successfully fought the public enemy; and that, by such a general proscription, and the requirement of successful military service as the only condition of civil preferment, the inevitable effect would be the ultimate establishment of a military government?

If the contents of the letter to Mr. Swartwout, were such as justly to excite surprise, there were other circumstances not calculated to diminish it. Of all the citizens of the United States, that gentleman is one of the last to whom it was necessary to address any vindication of general Jackson. He had given abundant evidence of his entire devotion to the cause of the general. He was here after the election, and was one of a committee who invited the general to a public dinner, proposed to be given to him in this place. My letter to judge Brooke was published in the papers of this city on the twelfth of February. The general’s note, declining the invitation of Messrs. Swartwout and others, was published on the fourteenth, in the National Journal. The probability, therefore, is, that he did not leave this city until after he had a full opportunity to receive, in a personal interview with the general, any verbal observations upon it which he might have thought proper to make. The letter to Mr. Swartwout, bears date the twenty-third of February. If received by him in New York, it must have reached him, in the ordinary course of mail, on the twenty-fifth or twenty-sixth. Whether intended or not as a ‘private communication,’ and not for the ‘public eye,’ as alleged by him, there is much probability in believing that its publication in New York, on the fourth of March, was then made, like Mr. Kremer’s address, with the view to its arrival in this city in time to affect my nomination to the senate. In point of fact, it reached here the day before the senate acted on that nomination.

Fellow-citizens, I am sensible that, generally, a public officer had better abstain from any vindication of his conduct, and leave it to the candor and justice of his countrymen, under all its attending circumstances. Such has been the course which I have heretofore prescribed to myself. This is the first, as I hope it may be the last, occasion of my thus appearing before you. The separation which has just taken place between us, and the venom, if not the vigor of the late onsets upon my public conduct, will, I hope, be allowed in this instance to form an adequate apology. It has been upwards of twenty years since I first entered the public service. Nearly three fourths of that time, with some intermissions, I have represented the same district in congress, with but little variation in its form. During that long period, you have beheld our country passing through scenes of peace and war, of prosperity and adversity, and of party divisions, local and general, often greatly exasperated against each other. I have been an actor in most of those scenes. Throughout the whole of them, you have clung to me with an affectionate confidence which has never been surpassed. I have found in your attachment, in every embarrassment in my public career, the greatest consolation, and the most encouraging support. I should regard the loss of it as one of the most afflicting public misfortunes which could befall me. That I have often misconceived your true interests, is highly probable. That I have ever sacrificed them to the object of personal aggrandizement, I utterly deny. And, for the purity of my motives, however in other respects I may be unworthy to approach the throne of grace and mercy, I appeal to the justice of my God, with all the confidence which can flow from a consciousness of perfect rectitude.

ON THE ELECTION OF PRESIDENT BY CONGRESS, IN 1825.

SPEECH AT LEWISBURG, VIRGINIA, AUGUST 30, 1826.

[IN the following remarks at a public dinner given him by citizens of Lewisburg and its vicinity, while he was secretary of state, under president Adams, Mr. Clay explains the motives which influenced him in voting for that gentleman for the office of president, and afterwards accepting a seat in his cabinet. He also alludes to some of the measures of the administration, of which he was then a member, in a manner which will be found to possess great interest.]

Lewisburg, August 23d, 1826.

THE HONORABLE HENRY CLAY:

Sir, at a meeting of a respectable number of the inhabitants of Lewisburg and its vicinity, convened in the court house on the twenty-second instant, it was unanimously determined to greet your arrival amongst them by some public demonstration of the respect which they in common with a great portion of the community, feel towards one of their most distinguished fellow-citizens. It was therefore unanimously resolved, as the most eligible means of manifesting their feelings, to request the honor of your presence at a public dinner to be given at the tavern of Mr. Frazer, in the town of Lewisburg, on Wednesday the thirtieth instant.

In pursuance of the above measures, we, as a committee, have been appointed to communicate their resolutions and solicit a compliance with their invitation. In performing this agreeable duty, we cannot but express our admiration of the uniform course which, during a long political career, you have pursued with so much honor to yourself and country. Although the detractions of envy, and the violence of party feeling have endeavored to blast your fair reputation, and destroy the confidence reposed in you by the citizens of the United States, we rejoice to inform you, that the people of the western part of that state which claims you as one of her most gifted sons, still retain the same high feeling of respect, which they have always manifested in spite of the maledictions and bickerings of disappointed editors and interested politicians. We cannot close our communication without hailing you as one of the most distinguished advocates of that system of internal improvement which has already proved so beneficial to our country, and which at no distant period will make even these desert mountains to blossom as the rose.

We have the honor to subscribe ourselves, yours with esteem,

J. G. M’CLENACHEN, JOHN BEIRNE, JAMES M’LAUGHLIN, J. A. NORTH, J. F. CALDWELL, HENRY ERSKINE.

White Sulphur Springs, 24th August, 1826.

GENTLEMEN, I have received the note which you did me the honor on yesterday to address to me, inviting me in behalf of a respectable number of the citizens of Lewisburg and its vicinity, to a public dinner at Mr. Frazer’s tavern, on Wednesday next, which they have the goodness to propose, in consequence of my arrival amongst them, as a manifestation of their respect. Such a compliment was most unexpected by me on a journey to Washington, by this route, recommended to my choice by the pure air of a mountain region, and justly famed mineral waters, a short use of which I hoped might contribute to the perfect reëstablishment of my health. The gratification which I derive from this demonstration of kindness and confidence, springs, in no small degree, from the consideration that it is the spontaneous testimony of those with whom I share a common origin, in a venerated state, endeared to me by an early tie of respect and affection, which no circumstance can ever dissolve. In communicating to that portion of the citizens of Lewisburg and its vicinity, who have been pleased thus to favor me, by their distinguished notice, my acceptance of their hospitable invitation, I pray you to add my profound acknowledgments. And of the friendly and flattering manner in which you have conveyed it, and for the generous sympathy, characteristic of Virginia, which you are so obliging as to express, on account of the detractions of which I have been the selected object, and the meditated victim, be assured that I shall always retain a lively and grateful remembrance.

I am, gentlemen, with great esteem and regard, faithfully, your obedient servant,

HENRY CLAY.

Messrs. M’Clenachen, North, M’Laughlin, Caldwell, Beirne, and Erskine, &c., &c.

TOAST.

Seventh. Our distinguished guest, Henry Clay—the statesman, orator, patriot, and philanthropist; his splendid talents shed lustre on his native state, his eloquence is an ornament to his country.

WHEN this toast was drunk, Mr. Clay rose, and addressed the company in a speech, which occupied nearly an hour in the delivery, of which we can only attempt an imperfect sketch.

He said, that he had never before felt so intensely the want of those powers of eloquence which had been just erroneously ascribed to him. He hoped, however, that in his plain and unaffected language, he might be allowed, without violating any established usage which prevails here, to express his grateful sensibility, excited by the sentiment with which he had been honored, and for the kind and respectful consideration of him manifested on the occasion which had brought them together. In passing through my native state, said he, towards which I have ever borne, and shall continue, in all vicissitudes, to cherish, the greatest respect and affection, I expected to be treated with its accustomed courtesy and private hospitality. But I did not anticipate that I should be the object of such public, distinguished, and cordial manifestations of regard. In offering you the poor and inadequate return of my warm and respectful thanks, I pray you to believe that I shall treasure up these testimonies among the most gratifying reminiscences of my life. The public service which I have rendered my country, your too favorable opinion of which has prompted you to exhibit these demonstrations of your esteem, has fallen far below the measure of usefulness, which I should have been happy to have filled. I claim for it only the humble merit of pure and patriotic intention. Such as it has been, I have not always been fortunate enough to give satisfaction to every section and to all the great interests of our country.

When an attempt was made to impose upon a new state, about to be admitted into the union, restrictions incompatible as I thought with her coequal sovereign power, I was charged in the north with being too partial to the south, and as being friendly to that unfortunate condition of slavery, of the evils of which none are more sensible than I am.

At another period, when I believed that the industry of this country required some protection against the selfish and contracted legislation of foreign powers, and to constitute it a certain and safe source of supply, in all exigencies; the charge against me was transposed, and I was converted into a foe of southern, and an infatuated friend of northern and western interests.

There were not wanting persons, in every section of the union, in another stage of our history, to accuse me with rashly contributing to the support of a war, the only alternative left to our honor by the persevering injustice of a foreign nation. These contradictory charges and perverted views gave me no concern, because I was confident that time and truth would prevail over all misconceptions; and because they did not impeach my public integrity. But I confess I was not prepared to expect the aspersions which I have experienced on account of a more recent discharge of public duty. My situation on the occasion to which I refer, was most peculiar and extraordinary, unlike that of any other American citizen. One of the three candidates for the presidency, presented to the choice of the house of representatives, was out of the question for notorious reasons now admitted by all. Limited as the competition was to the other two, I had to choose between a statesman long experienced at home and abroad in numerous civil situations, and a soldier, brave, gallant, and successful, but a mere soldier, who, although he had also filled several civil offices, had quickly resigned them all, frankly acknowledging, in some instances, his incompetency to discharge their duties.

It has been said that I had some differences with the present chief magistrate, at Ghent. It is true that we did not agree on one of the many important questions which arose during the negotiations in that city, but the difference equally applied to our present minister at London and to the lamented Bayard, between whom and myself, although we belonged to opposite political parties, there existed a warm friendship to the hour of his death. It was not of a nature to prevent our coöperation together in the public service, as is demonstrated by the convention at London subsequently negotiated by Messrs. Adams, Gallatin, and myself. It was a difference of opinion on a point of expediency, and did not relate to any constitutional or fundamental principle. But with respect to the conduct of the distinguished citizen of Tennessee, I had solemnly expressed, under the highest obligations, opinions, which, whether right or wrong, were sincerely and honestly entertained, and are still held. These opinions related to a military exercise of power believed to be arbitrary and unconstitutional. I should have justly subjected myself to the grossest inconsistency, if I had given him my suffrage. I thought if he were elected, the sword and the constitution, bad companions, would be brought too near together. I could not have foreseen that, fully justified as I have been by those very constituents, in virtue of whose authority I exerted the right of free suffrage, I should nevertheless be charged with a breach of duty and corruption by strangers to them, standing in no relation to them but that of being citizens of other states, members of the confederacy. It is in vain that these revilers have been called upon for their proofs; have been defied, and are again invited, to enter upon any mode of fair investigation and trial; shrinking from every impartial examination, they persevere, with increased zeal, in the propagation of calumny, under the hope of supplying by the frequency and boldness of asseveration, the want of truth and the deficiency of evidence; until we have seen the spectacle exhibited of converting the hall of the first legislative assembly upon earth, on the occasion of discussions which above all others should have been characterized by dignity, calmness, and temperance, into a theatre for spreading suspicions and groundless imputations against an absent and innocent individual.

Driven from every other hold, they have seized on the only plank left within their grasp, that of my acceptance of the office of secretary of state, which has been asserted to be the consummation of a previous corrupt arrangement. What can I oppose to such an assertion, but positive, peremptory, and unqualified denial, and a repetition of the demand for proof and trial? The office to which I have been appointed is that of the country, created by it, and administered for its benefit. In deciding whether I should accept it or not, I did not take counsel from those who, foreseeing the probability of my designation for it, sought to deter me from its acceptance by fabricating anticipated charges, which would have been preferred with the same zeal and alacrity, however I might have decided. I took counsel from my friends, from my duty, from my conscious innocence of unworthy and false imputations. I was not left at liberty by either my enemies or my friends to decline the office. I would willingly have declined it from an unaffected distrust of my ability to perform its high duties, if I could have honorably declined it. I hope the uniform tenor of my whole public life will protect me against the supposition of any unreasonable avidity for public employment. During the administration of that illustrious man, to whose civil services more than to those of any other American patriot, living or dead, this country is indebted for the blessings of its present constitution, now more than ten years ago, the mission to Russia, and a place in his cabinet, were successively offered me. A place in his cabinet, at that period of my life, was more than equivalent to any place under any administration, at my present more advanced age. His immediate successor tendered to me the same place in his cabinet, which he anxiously urged me to accept, and the mission to England. Gentlemen, I hope you will believe that far from being impelled by any vain or boastful spirit, to mention these things, I do it with humiliation and mortification.

If I had refused the department of state, the same individuals who now, in the absence of all proof, against all probability, and in utter disregard of all truth, proclaim the existence of a corrupt previous arrangement, would have propagated the same charge with the same affected confidence which they now unblushingly assume. And it would have been said, with at least much plausibility, that I had contributed to the election of a chief magistrate, of whom I thought so unfavorably that I would not accept that place in his cabinet which is generally regarded as the first. I thought it my duty, unawed by their denunciations, to proceed in the office assigned me by the president and senate, to render the country the best service of which my poor abilities are capable. If this administration should show itself unfriendly to American liberty and to free and liberal institutions; if it should be conducted upon a system adverse to those principles of public policy, which I have ever endeavored to sustain, and I should be found still clinging to office; then nothing which could be said by those who are inimical to me, would be undeserved.

But the president ought not to have appointed one who had voted for him. Mr. Jefferson did not think so, who called to his cabinet a gentleman who had voted for him, in the most warmly contested election that has ever occurred in the house of representatives, and who appointed to other highly important offices other members of the same house, who voted for him. Mr. Madison did not think so, who did not feel himself restrained from sending me on a foreign service, because I had supported his election. Mr. Monroe did not think so, who appointed in his cabinet a gentleman, now filling the second office in the government, who attended the caucus that nominated and warmly and efficiently espoused his election. But, suppose the president acted upon the most disinterested doctrine which is now contended for by those who opposed his election, and were to appoint to public office from their ranks only, to the entire exclusion of those who voted for him, would he then escape their censure? No! we have seen him charged, for that equal distribution of the public service among every class of citizens, which has hitherto characterized his administration, with the nefarious purpose of buying up portions of the community. A spirit of denunciation is abroad. With some, condemnation, right or wrong, is the order of the day. No matter what prudence and wisdom may stamp the measures of the administration, no matter how much the prosperity of the country may be advanced, or what public evils may be averted, under its guidance, there are persons who would make general, indiscriminate, and interminable opposition. This is not a fit occasion, nor perhaps am I a fit person, to enter upon a vindication of its measures. But I hope I shall be excused for asking what measure of domestic policy has been proposed or recommended by the present executive, which has not its prototype in previous acts or recommendations of administrations at the head of which was a citizen of Virginia? Can the liberal and high-minded people of this state, condemn measures emanating from a citizen of Massachusetts, which, when proposed by a Virginian, commanded their express assent or silent acquiescence, or to which, if in any instance they made opposition, it was respectful, limited, and qualified? The present administration desires only to be judged by its measures, and invites the strictest scrutiny and the most watchful vigilance on the part of the public.

With respect to the Panama mission, it is true that it was not recommended by any preceding administration, because the circumstances of the world were not then such as to present it as a subject for discussion. But during that of Mr. Monroe, it has been seen that it was a matter of consideration, and there is every reason to believe, if he were now at the head of affairs, his determination would correspond with that of his successor. Let me suppose that it was the resolution of this country, under no circumstances, to contract with foreign powers intimate public engagements, and to remain altogether unbound by any treaties of alliance; what should have been the course taken with the very respectful invitation which was given to the United States to be represented at Panama? Haughtily folding your arms, would you have given it a cold and abrupt refusal? Or would you not rather accept it, send ministers, and, in a friendly and respectful manner, endeavor to satisfy those who are looking to us for counsel and example, and imitating our free institutions, that there is no necessity for such an alliance; that the dangers which alone could, in the opinion of any one, have justified it, have vanished, and that it is not good for them or for us?

What may be the nature of the instructions with which our ministers may be charged, it is not proper that I should state; but all candid and reflecting men must admit, that we have great interests in connection with the southern republics, independent of any compacts of alliance. Those republics, now containing a population of upwards of twenty millions, duplicating their numbers probably in periods still shorter than we do, comprising within their limits the most abundant sources of the precious metals, offer to our commerce, to our manufactures, to our navigation, so many advantages, that none can doubt the expediency of cultivating the most friendly relations with them. If treaties of commerce and friendship, and liberal stipulations in respect to neutral and belligerent rights, could be negotiated with each of them at its separate seat of government, there is no doubt that much greater facilities for the conclusion of such treaties present themselves at a point where, all being represented, the way may be smoothed and all obstacles removed by a disclosure of the views and wishes of all, and by mutual and friendly explanations. There was one consideration which had much weight with the executive, in the decision to accept the mission; and that was the interest which this country has, and especially the southern states, in the fate and fortunes of the island of Cuba. No subject of our foreign relations has created with the executive government more anxious concern, than that of the condition of that island and the possibility of prejudice to the southern states, from the convulsions to which it might be exposed. It was believed, and is yet believed, that the dangers which, in certain contingencies, might threaten our quiet and safety, may be more successfully averted at a place at which all the American powers should be represented than any where else. And I have no hesitation in expressing the firm conviction, that, if there be one section of this union more than all others interested in the Panama mission, and the benefits which may flow from it, that section is the south. It was, therefore, with great and unaffected surprise, that I witnessed the obliquity of those political views which led some gentlemen from that quarter to regard the measure, as it might operate on the southern states, in an unfavorable light. Whatever may be the result of the mission, its moral effect in Europe will be considerable, and it cannot fail to make the most friendly impressions upon our southern neighbors. It is one of which it is difficult, in sober imagination, to conceive any possible mischievous consequences, and which the executive could not have declined, in my opinion, without culpable neglect of the interests of this country, and without giving dissatisfaction to nations whose friendship we are called upon by every dictate of policy to conciliate.

There are persons who would impress on the southern states the belief that they have just cause of apprehending danger to a certain portion of their property from the present administration. It is not difficult to comprehend the object and the motive of these idle alarms. What measure of the present administration gives any just occasion for the smallest apprehension to the tenure by which that species of property is held? However much the president and the members of his administration may deprecate the existence of slavery among us, as the greatest evil with which we are afflicted, there is not one of them that does not believe that the constitution of the general government confers no authority to interpose between the master and his slave, none to apply an adequate remedy, if indeed there be any remedy within the scope of human power. Suppose an object of these alarmists were accomplished, and the slave-holding states were united in the sentiment, that the policy of this government in all time to come, should be regulated on the basis of the fact of slavery, would not union on the one side lead to union on the other? And would not such a fatal division of the people and states of this confederacy, produce perpetual mutual irritation and exasperation, and ultimately disunion itself? The slave-holding states cannot forget that they are now in a minority, which is in a constant relative diminution, and should certainly not be the first to put forth a principle of public action by which they would be the greatest losers.

I am but too sensible of the unreasonable trespass on your time which I have committed, and of the egotism of which my discourse has partaken. I must depend for my apology upon the character of the times, on the venom of the attacks which have been made upon my character and conduct, and upon the generous sympathy of the gentlemen here assembled. During this very journey a paper has been put into my hands, in which a member of the house of representatives is represented to have said that the distinguished individual at the head of the government, and myself, have been indicted by the people. If that is the case, I presume that some defence is lawful. By the bye, if the honorable member is to have the sole conduct of the prosecution without the aid of other counsel, I think that it is not difficult to predict that his clients will be nonsuited, and that they will be driven out of court with the usual judgment pronounced in such cases.

In conclusion, I beg leave to offer a toast which, if you are as dry as I am, will, I hope, be acceptable for the sake of the wine, if not the sentiment.

‘The continuation of the turnpike road which passes through Lewisburg, and success to the cause of internal improvement, under every auspice.’

He then took his seat amid the repeated cheers of the whole company.

ON AFRICAN COLONIZATION.

IN THE HALL OF THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES, AT THE ANNUAL MEETING OF THE AMERICAN COLONIZATION SOCIETY, AT WASHINGTON CITY, JANUARY 20, 1827.

[THE subject of colonizing the free people of color and emancipated slaves, became one of deep and profound interest, at an early period, in the history of the United States. The question was agitated in Virginia in 1800, and a resolution passed in the legislature of that state, requesting the governor to correspond with the president of the United States, on the subject of purchasing land for a colony; and president Jefferson made efforts, which, however, were unsuccessful, to obtain by negotiation an establishment within the British colonies, in Africa, or the Portuguese colonies, in South America. The movement which finally led to a successful result, in establishing an American colony on the coast of Africa, commenced in the legislature of Virginia, in December 1816, by instructing the executive of that state, and their members of congress, to coöperate with the United States government in endeavoring to obtain a territory on the before-mentioned coast, for an asylum for free persons of color. Through the instrumentality of the Rev. Robert Finley, an early and zealous friend of the cause, a meeting of public men and private citizens was held at Washington city, on the twenty-first of December, 1816, over which Mr. Clay, then speaker of the house of representatives, was called to preside. A constitution of the American Colonization Society was adopted, at an adjourned meeting on the twenty-eighth of December, and on the first of January, 1817, the officers of the society were chosen, judge Bushrod Washington being elected president, and Henry Clay, William H. Crawford, Andrew Jackson, Robert Finley, and others, vice-presidents. Mr. Clay has always taken a warm and decided interest in the promotion of the objects of this society, and at the annual meeting thereof, in 1827 (being then secretary of state), he delivered the following address.]

I CANNOT withhold the expression of my congratulations to the society, on account of the very valuable acquisition which we have obtained in the eloquent gentleman from Boston, (Mr. Knapp,) who has just before favored us with an address. He has told us of his original impressions, unfavorable to the object of the society, and of his subsequent conversion. If the same industry, investigation, and unbiased judgment, manifested by himself and another gentleman (Mr. Powell), who avowed at the last meeting of the society a similar change wrought in his mind, were carried, by the public at large, into the consideration of the plan of the society, the conviction of its utility would be universal.

I have risen to submit a resolution, in behalf of which I would bespeak the favor of the society. But before I offer any observations in its support, I must say that, whatever part I shall take in the proceedings of this society, whatever opinions or sentiments I may utter, they are exclusively my own. Whether they are worth any thing or not, no one but myself is at all responsible for them. I have consulted with no person out of this society, and I have especially abstained from all communication or consultation with any one to whom I stand in any official relation. My judgment on the object of this society has been long since deliberately formed. The conclusions to which, after much and anxious consideration, my mind has been brought, have been neither produced nor refuted, by the official station the duties of which have been confided to me.

From the origin of this society, every member of it has, I believe, looked forward to the arrival of a period, when it would become necessary to invoke the public aid in the execution of the great scheme which it was instituted to promote. Considering itself as the mere pioneer in the cause which it had undertaken, it was well aware that it could do no more than remove preliminary difficulties, and point out a sure road to ultimate success; and that the public only could supply that regular, steady, and efficient support, to which the gratuitous means of benevolent individuals would be found incompetent. My surprise has been, that the society has been able so long to sustain itself, and to do so much upon the charitable contributions of good, and pious, and enlightened men, whom it has happily found in all parts of our country. But our work has so prospered and grown under our hands, that the appeal to the power and resources of the public, should be no longer deferred. The resolution which I have risen to propose, contemplates this appeal. It is in the following words:

‘Resolved, that the board of managers be empowered and directed, at such time or times as may seem to them expedient, to make respectful application to the congress of the United States, and to the legislatures of the different states, for such pecuniary aid, in furtherance of the object of this society, as they may respectively be pleased to grant.’

In soliciting the countenance and support of the legislatures of the union and the states, it is incumbent on the society, in making out its case, to show, first, that it offers to their consideration a scheme which is practicable, and secondly, that the execution of the practicable scheme, partial or entire, will be fraught with such beneficial consequences as to merit the support which is solicited. I believe both points to be maintainable. First, it is now a little upwards of ten years since a religious, amiable, and benevolent resident12 of this city, first conceived the idea of planting a colony, from the United States, of free people of color, on the western shores of Africa. He is no more, and the noblest eulogy which could be pronounced on him would be, to inscribe upon his tomb, the merited epitaph, ‘here lies the projector of the American Colonization Society.’ Amongst others, to whom he communicated the project, was the person who now has the honor of addressing you. My first impressions, like those of all who have not fully investigated the subject, were against it. They yielded to his earnest persuasions and my own reflections, and I finally agreed with him that the experiment was worthy of a fair trial. A meeting of its friends was called, organized as a deliberative body, and a constitution was formed. The society went into operation. He lived to see the most encouraging progress in its exertions, and died in full confidence of its complete success. The society was scarcely formed before it was exposed to the derision of the unthinking; pronounced to be visionary and chimerical by those who were capable of adopting wiser opinions, and the most confident predictions of its entire failure were put forth. It found itself equally assailed by the two extremes of public sentiment in regard to our African population. According to one, (that rash class which, without a due estimate of the fatal consequence, would forthwith issue a decree of general, immediate, and indiscriminate emancipation,) it was a scheme of the slaveholder to perpetuate slavery. The other (that class which believes slavery a blessing, and which trembles with aspen sensibility at the appearance of the most distant and ideal danger to the tenure by which that description of property is held,) declared it a contrivance to let loose on society all the slaves of the country, ignorant, uneducated, and incapable of appreciating the value or enjoying the privileges of freedom.13 The society saw itself surrounded by every sort of embarrassment. What great human enterprise was ever undertaken without difficulty? What ever failed, within the compass of human power, when pursued with perseverance and blessed by the smiles of Providence? The society prosecuted undismayed its great work, appealing for succor to the moderate, the reasonable, the virtuous, and religious portions of the public. It protested, from the commencement, and throughout all its progress, and it now protests, that it entertains no purpose, on its own authority or by its own means, to attempt emancipation, partial or general; that it knows the general government has no constitutional power to achieve such an object; that it believes that the states, and the states only, which tolerate slavery, can accomplish the work of emancipation; and that it ought to be left to them, exclusively, absolutely, and voluntarily, to decide the question.

The object of the society was the colonization of the free colored people, not the slaves, of the country. Voluntary in its institution, voluntary in its continuance, voluntary in all its ramifications, all its means, purposes, and instruments, are also voluntary. But it was said that no free colored persons could be prevailed upon to abandon the comforts of civilized life and expose themselves to all the perils of a settlement in a distant, inhospitable, and savage country; that, if they could be induced to go on such a quixotic expedition, no territory could be procured for their establishment as a colony; that the plan was altogether incompetent to effectuate its professed object; and that it ought to be rejected as the idle dream of visionary enthusiasts. The society has outlived, thank God, all these disastrous predictions. It has survived to swell the list of false prophets. It is no longer a question of speculation whether a colony can or cannot be planted from the United States of free persons of color on the shores of Africa. It is a matter demonstrated; such a colony, in fact, exists, prospers, has made successful war, and honorable peace, and transacts all the multiplied business of a civilized and christian community.14 It now has about five hundred souls, disciplined troops, forts, and other means of defence, sovereignty over an extensive territory, and exerts a powerful and salutary influence over the neighboring clans.

Numbers of the free African race among us are willing to go to Africa. The society has never experienced any difficulty on that subject, except that its means of comfortable transportation have been inadequate to accommodate all who have been anxious to migrate. Why should they not go? Here they are in the lowest state of social gradation; aliens—political, moral, social aliens—strangers, though natives. There, they would be in the midst of their friends and their kindred, at home, though born in a foreign land, and elevated above the natives of the country, as much as they are degraded here below the other classes of the community. But on this matter, I am happy to have it in my power to furnish indisputable evidence from the most authentic source, that of large numbers of free persons of color themselves. Numerous meetings have been held in several churches in Baltimore, of the free people of color, in which, after being organized as deliberative assemblies, by the appointment of a chairman (if not of the same complexion) presiding as you, Mr. Vice-president, do, and secretaries, they have voted memorials addressed to the white people, in which they have argued the question with an ability, moderation, and temper, surpassing any that I can command, and emphatically recommended the colony of Liberia to favorable consideration, as the most desirable and practicable scheme ever yet presented on this interesting subject. I ask permission of the society to read this highly creditable document.

[Here Mr. Clay read the memorial referred to.]

The society has experienced no difficulty in the acquisition of a territory, upon reasonable terms, abundantly sufficient for a most extensive colony. And land in ample quantities, it has ascertained, can be procured in Africa, together with all rights of sovereignty, upon conditions as favorable as those on which the United States extinguish the Indian title to territory within their own limits.

In respect to the alleged incompetency of the scheme to accomplish its professed object, the society asks that that object should be taken to be, not what the imaginations of its enemies represent it to be, but what it really proposes. They represent that the purpose of the society is, to export the whole African population of the United States, bond and free; and they pronounce this design to be unattainable. They declare that the means of the whole country are insufficient to effect the transportation to Africa of a mass of population approximating to two millions of souls. Agreed; but that is not what the society contemplates. They have substituted their own notion for that of the society. What is the true nature of the evil of the existence of a portion of the African race in our population? It is not that there are some, but that there are so many among us of a different caste, of a different physical, if not moral, constitution, who never can amalgamate with the great body of our population. In every country, persons are to be found varying in their color, origin, and character, from the native mass. But this anomaly creates no inquietude or apprehension, because the exotics, from the smallness of their number, are known to be utterly incapable of disturbing the general tranquillity. Here, on the contrary, the African part of our population bears so large a proportion to the residue, of European origin, as to create the most lively apprehension, especially in some quarters of the union. Any project, therefore, by which, in a material degree, the dangerous element in the general mass, can be diminished or rendered stationary, deserves deliberate consideration.

The colonization society has never imagined it to be practicable, or within the reach of any means which the several governments of the union could bring to bear on the subject, to transport the whole of the African race within the limits of the United States. Nor is that necessary to accomplish the desirable objects of domestic tranquillity, and render us one homogeneous people. The population of the United States has been supposed to duplicate in periods of twenty-five years. That may have been the case heretofore, but the terms of duplication will be more and more protracted as we advance in national age; and I do not believe that it will be found, in any period to come, that our numbers will be doubled in a less term than one of about thirty-three and a third years. I have not time to enter now into details in support of this opinion. They would consist of those checks which experience has shown to obstruct the progress of population, arising out of its actual augmentation and density, the settlement of waste lands, &c. Assuming the period of thirty-three and a third, or any other number of years, to be that in which our population will hereafter be doubled, if, during that whole term, the capital of the African stock could be kept down, or stationary, whilst that of European origin should be left to an unobstructed increase, the result, at the end of the term, would be most propitious. Let us suppose, for example, that the whole population at present of the United States, is twelve millions, of which ten may be estimated of the Anglo-Saxon, and two of the African race. If there could be annually transported from the United States an amount of the African portion equal to the annual increase of the whole of that caste, whilst the European race should be left to multiply, we should find at the termination of the period of duplication, whatever it may be, that the relative proportions would be as twenty to two. And if the process were continued, during a second term of duplication the proportion would be as forty to two—one which would eradicate every cause of alarm or solicitude from the breasts of the most timid. But the transportation of Africans, by creating, to the extent to which it might be carried, a vacuum in society, would tend to accelerate the duplication of the European race, who by all the laws of population, would fill up the void space.

This society is well aware, I repeat, that they cannot touch the subject of slavery. But it is no objection to their scheme, limited, as it is, exclusively to those free people of color who are willing to migrate, that it admits of indefinite extension and application, by those who alone, having the competent authority, may choose to adopt and apply it. Our object has been to point out the way, to show that colonization is practicable, and to leave it to those states or individuals who may be pleased to engage in the object, to prosecute it. We have demonstrated that a colony may be planted in Africa, by the fact that an American colony there exists. The problem which has so long and so deeply interested the thoughts of good and patriotic men, is solved; a country and a home have been found, to which the African race may be sent, to the promotion of their happiness and our own.

But, Mr. Vice-president, I shall not rest contented with the fact of the establishment of the colony, conclusive as it ought to be deemed, of the practicability of our purpose. I shall proceed to show, by reference to indisputable statistical details and calculations, that it is within the compass of reasonable human means. I am sensible of the tediousness of all arithmetical data, but I will endeavor to simplify them as much as possible. It will be borne in mind that the aim of the society is, to establish in Africa a colony of the free African population of the United States, to an extent which shall be beneficial both to Africa and America. The whole free colored population of the United States, amounted, in 1790, to fifty-nine thousand four hundred and eighty-one; in 1800, to one hundred and ten thousand and seventy-two; in 1810, to one hundred and eighty-six thousand four hundred and forty-six; and in 1820, to two hundred and thirty-three thousand five hundred and thirty. The ratio of annual increase during the first term of ten years, was about eight and a half per cent. per annum; during the second, about seven per cent. per annum; and during the third, a little more than two and a half. The very great difference in the rate of annual increase, during those several terms, may probably be accounted for by the effect of the number of voluntary emancipations operating with more influence upon the total smaller amount of free colored persons at the first of those periods, and by the facts of the insurrection in St. Domingo, and the acquisition of Louisiana, both of which, occurring during the first and second terms, added considerably to the number of our free colored population.

Of all descriptions of our population, that of the free colored, taken in the aggregate, is the least prolific, because of the checks arising from vice and want. During the ten years, between 1810 and 1820, when no extraneous causes existed to prevent a fair competition in the increase between the slave and the free African race, the former increased at the rate of nearly three per cent. per annum, whilst the latter did not much exceed two and a half. Hereafter it may be safely assumed, and I venture to predict, will not be contradicted by the return of the next census, that the increase of the free black population will not surpass two and a half per cent. per annum. Their amount at the last census, being two hundred and thirty-three thousand five hundred and thirty, for the sake of round numbers, their annual increase may be assumed to be six thousand, at the present time. Now if this number could be annually transported from the United States during a term of years, it is evident that, at the end of that term, the parent capital will not have increased, but will have been kept down at least to what it was at the commencement of the term. Is it practicable, then, to colonize annually six thousand persons from the United States, without materially impairing or affecting any of the great interests of the United States? This is the question presented to the judgments of the legislative authorities of our country. This is the whole scheme of the society. From its actual experience, derived from the expenses which have been incurred in transporting the persons already sent to Africa, the entire average expense of each colonist, young and old, including passage money and subsistence, may be stated at twenty dollars per head. There is reason to believe that it may be reduced considerably below that sum. Estimating that to be the expense, the total cost of transporting six thousand souls, annually to Africa, would be one hundred and twenty thousand dollars. The tonnage requisite to effect the object, calculating two persons to every five tons, (which is the provision of existing law) would be fifteen thousand tons. But as each vessel could probably make two voyages in the year, it may be reduced to seven thousand five hundred. And as both our mercantile and military marine might be occasionally employed on this collateral service, without injury to the main object of the voyage, a further abatement might be safely made in the aggregate amount of the necessary tonnage. The navigation concerned in the commerce between the colony and the United States, (and it already begins to supply subjects of an interesting trade,) might be incidentally employed to the same end.