fore, that the legislature can assume no right from the deficiency of either, and will find that the clause which he relied on goes, if rightly understood, to a confirmation of our doc

trine.

Is there a member of this House, who can lay his hand on his heart and say, that consistently with the plain words of our Constitution we have a right to repeal this law? I believe not. And if we undertake to construe this Constitution to our purposes and say, that public opinion is to be our judge, there is an end to all Constitutions. To what will not this dangerous doctrine lead? Should it today be the popular wish to destroy the first magistrate, you can destroy him. And should he tomorrow be able to conciliate to him the popular will, and lead the people to wish for your destruction, it is easily effected. Adopt this principle, and the whim of the moment will not only be the law, but the Constitution of our country.

The gentleman from Virginia has mentioned a great nation brought to the feet of one of her servants. But why is she in that situation? Is it not because popular opinion was called on to decide everything, until those who wore bayonets decided for all the rest. Our situation is peculiar. At present our national compact can prevent a State from acting hostilely towards the general interest. But let this compact be destroyed, and each State becomes instantaneously vested with absolute sovereignty. Is there no instance of a similar situation to be found in history? Look at the States of Greece. They were once in a condition not unlike to that in which we should then stand. They treated the recommendations of their Amphictyonic Council, which was more a meeting of Ambassadors than a legislative assembly, as we did the resolutions of the Old Congress. Are we wise? So were they. Are we valiant? They also were brave. Have we one common language, and are we united under one head? In this also there is a strong resemblance. But by their divisions they became at first victims of the ambition of Philip, and were at length swallowed up in the Roman Empire. Are we to form

an exception to the general principles of hunan nature, and to all the examples of history? And are the maxims of experience to become false, when applied to our fate?

Some, indeed, flatter themselves, that our destiny will be like that of Rome. Such indeed it might be, if we had the same wise but vile Aristocracy, under whose guidance they became the masters of the world. But we have not that strong Aristocratic arm, which can seize a wretched citizen, scourged almost to death by a remorseless creditor, turn him into the ranks, and bid him as a soldier bear our eagle in triumph round the globe. I hope to God we shall never have such an abominable institution. But what, I ask, will be the situation of these States, organized as they now are, if by the dissolution of our national compact they be left to themselves? What is the probable result? We shall either be victims of foreign intrigue, and, split into factions, fall under the domination of a foreign power; or else, after the misery and torment of civil war, become the subjects of a usurping military despot. What but this compact, what but this specific part of it, can save us from ruin? The judicial power, that fortress of the Constitution, is now to be overturned. Yes, with honest Ajax, I would not only throw a shield before it, I would build around it a wall of brass. But I am too weak to defend the rampart against the host of assailants. I must call to my assistance their good sense, their patriotism, and their virtue.

Do not, gentlemen, suffer the rage of passion to drive reason from her seat. If this law be indeed bad, let us join to remedy the defects. Has it been passed in a manner, which wounded your pride, or roused your resentment? Have, I conjure you, the magnanimity to pardon that offence. I intreat, I implore you, to sacrifice those angry passions to the interests of our country. Pour out this pride of opinion on the altar of patriotism. Let it be an expiatory libation for the weal of America. Do not, for God's sake do not suffer that pride to plunge us all into the abyss of ruin. Indeed,

Do not, I beseech

indeed, it will be but of little, very little avail, whether one opinion or the other be right or wrong; it will heal no wounds, it will pay no debts, it will rebuild no ravaged towns. Do not rely on that popular will, which has brought us frail beings into political existence? That opinion is but a changeable thing. It will soon change. This very measure will change it. You will be deceived. you, in reliance on a foundation so frail, commit the dignity, the harmony, the existence of our nation to the wild wind. Trust not your treasure to the waves. Throw not your compass and your charts into the ocean. Do not believe that its billows will waft you into port. Indeed, indeed, you will be deceived. Cast not away this only anchor of our safety. I have seen its progress. I know the difficulties through which it was obtained. I stand in the presence of Almighty God and of the world. I declare to you, that if you lose this charter, never, no never, will you get another. We are now perhaps arrived at the parting point. Here, even here, we stand on the brink of fate. Pause, then-Pause. For Heaven's sake-Pause.

SPEECH

ON THE

FREE

NAVIGATION OF THE MISSISSIPPI RIVER, AND THE RIGHT OF DEPOSIT WITHIN THE SPANISH TERRI

TORIES.

THIS speech was delivered in the Senate of the United States, on the 24th of February, 1803. It was occasioned by the RESOLUTIONS introduced by Mr Ross of Pennsylvania, proclaiming the right of the United States to the free navigation of the Mississippi River, and to a place of deposit in the Island of New Orleans for produce and merchandize, and authorizing the President to take immediate possession of some place or places for that object. Mr Morris was in favor of the Resolutions.

MR PRESIDENT,

I rise with reluctance on the present occasion. The lateness of the hour forbids me to hope for your patient attention. The subject is of great importance, as it relates to other countries, and still greater to our own; yet we must decide on grounds uncertain, because they depend on circumstances not yet arrived. And when we attempt to penetrate into futurity, after exerting the utmost powers of reason, aided by all the lights which experience could acquire, our clearest conceptions are involved in doubt. A thousand things may happen, which it is impossible to conjecture, and which will influence the course of events. The wise Governor of all things has hidden the future from the ken of our feeble un

derstanding. In committing ourselves, therefore, to the examination of what may hereafter arrive, we hazard reputation on contingences we cannot command. And when events shall be past, we shall be judged by them, and not by the reasons which we may now advance.

There are many subjects which it is not easy to understand, but it is always easy to misrepresent, and when arguments cannot be controverted, it is not difficult to calumniate motives. That, which cannot be confuted, may be misstated. The purest intentions may be blackened by malice, and envy will ever foster the foulest imputations. This calumny is among the sore evils of our country. It began with our earliest success in 1778, and has gone on with accelerated velocity and increasing force to the present hour. It is no longer to be checked, nor will it terminate but in that sweep of general destruction, to which it tends with a step as sure as time, and fatal as death. I know that what I utter will be misunderstood, misrepresented, deformed, and distorted; but we must do our duty. This I believe is the last scene of my public life; and it shall, like those which preceded, be performed with candor and truth. Yes, my noble friends, [addressing himself to the Federal Senators near him] we shall soon part to meet no more. But, however separated, and wherever dispersed, we know that we are united by just principle and true sentiment. A sentiment, my country! ever devoted to you, which will expire only with expiring life, and beat in the last pulsation of our hearts.

Mr President, my object is peace. I could assign many reasons to show that this declaration is sincere. But can it be necessary to give this Senate any other assurance than my word? Notwithstanding the acerbity of temper, which results from party strife, gentlemen will believe me on my word. I will not pretend, like my honorable colleague (Mr Clinton) to describe to you the waste, the ravages, and the horrors of war. I have not the same harmonious periods, nor the same musical tones; neither shall I boast of christian charity, nor