C. Edwards Lester, Life and public services of Charles Sumner: Born Jan. 6, 1811. Died March 11, 1874.

Iv.

The time has passed when this can be opposed on constitutional grounds. It will not be questioned by any competent authority that Congress may, by express legislation, abolish slavery, first, in the District of Columbia; second, in the Territories, if there should be any; third, that it may abolish the slave trade on the high seas between the States; fourth, that it may refuse to admit any new State with a constitution sanctioning slavery. Nor can it be doubted that the people of the free States may, in the manner pointed out by the Constitution, proceed to its amendment.

There is in the Constitution no compromise on the subject of slavery of a character not to be reached legally and constitutionally, which is the only way in which I propose to reach it. Wherever power and jurisdiction are secured to Congress, they may unquestionably be exercised in conformity with the Constitution. And even in the matters beyond existing powers and jurisdiction there is a constitutional mode of action. The Constitution contains an article pointing out how, at any time, amendments may be made thereto. This is an important article, giving to the Constitution a progressive character, and allowing it to be moulded to suit new exigencies and new conditions of feeling. The wise framers of this instrument did not treat the country as a Chinese foot, never to grow after its infancy, but anticipated the changes incident to its growth.

But it was not until November 4, 1845, that he took his final position on the subject; and this he did in addressing a mass-meeting in Faneuil Hall, against the annexation of Texas. In the opening of that speech, to every sentence of which the future was to impart strange significance, he paid a graceful tribute to the chairman, Hon. John G. Palfrey,—then Secretary of the Commonwealth,—for an act which won for him universal respect, and admiration, viz., the manumission of a body of slaves that had descended to him by inheritance, and whom he had ‘conducted far away from slavery, into these more cheerful precincts of freedom.’ ‘By this act,’ said Mr. Sumner, ‘he has done as a citizen, what Massachusetts is now called upon to do as a State—divest herself of all responsibility for any occasion of slave property.’ [16]

In approaching his subject, he spoke of ‘occasions in the progress of affairs when the attention of all, though ordinarily opposed to each other, is arrested; and even the lukewarm, the listless, the indifferent, unite heartily in a common object. Such is the case in great calamities, when the efforts of all are needed to avert a fatal blow. If the fire-bells startle us from our slumbers, we do not ask of what faith in politics or religion is the unfortunate brother who is exposed to destruction. It is enough that there is misfortune to be averted. In this spirit, we have assembled, putting aside all distinctions of party, forgetting all disagreements of opinion, renouncing all discords, only to cling to one ground on which we all meet in concord—I mean opposition to the admission of Texas as a slave State.’

The scheme for the annexation of Texas, he continued, begun in stealth and fraud, and with the view to extend and strengthen slavery, has not yet received the final sanction of Congress. Even according to the course pursued by the framers of this measure, it is necessary that Texas should be formally admitted into the family of States by a vote of Congress, and that her Constitution should be approved by Congress. The question on this measure will arise this winter, and we would, if we could, strengthen the hands and the hearts of the friends of freedom by whom the measure will be opposed.

Ours is no factious or irregular course. It has the sanction of the highest examples on a kindred occasion. In 1819, the question now before us arose on the admission of Missouri as a slave State. I need not remind you of the ardor and constancy with which this was opposed at the North, by men of all parties, with scarcely a dissenting voice. One universal chorus of protests thundered from the Free States against the formation of what was called another black State. Meetings were convened in all the considerable towns—in Philadelphia, Trenton, New York, New Haven, and everywhere throughout Massachusetts, in order to give expression to this opposition in a manner to be audible on the floor of Congress. At Boston, on December 3d, 1819, a meeting was held in the State-house, without distinction of party, and embracing [17] the leaders of both sides. That meeting, in its objects, was precisely like this now assembled. A large committee was appointed to prepare resolutions. Of this committee, William Eustis, afterwards Governor of Massachusetts, was chairman. With him were associated John Phillips, at that time President of the Senate of Massachusetts— a name dear to every friend of the slave as the father of him to whose eloquent voice we hope to listen to-night—Timothy Bigelow, Speaker of the House of Representatives, William Gray, Henry Dearborn, Josiah Quincy, Daniel Webster, William Ward, of Medford, William Prescott, Thomas H. Perkins, Stephen White, Benjamin Pickman, William Sullivan, George Blake, David Cummings, James Savage, John Gallison, James T. Austin, and Henry Orne. A committee, more calculated to inspire the confidence of all sides, could not have been appointed. Numerous as were its members, they were all men of mark, high in the confidence and affections of the country. This committee reported the following resolutions, which were adopted by the meeting:—

Resolved, As the opinion of this meeting, that the Congress of the United States possess the constitutional power upon the admission of any new State created beyond the limits of the original territory of the United States, to make the prohibition of the further extension of slavery, or involuntary servitude, in such new State, a condition of its admission.

Resolved, That, in the opinion of this meeting, it is just and expedient that this power should be exercised by Congress upon the admission of all new States, created beyond the original limits of the United States.

The meeting in Boston was followed by one in Salem, called, according to the terms of the notice, ‘to consider whether the immense region of country extending from the Mississippi to the Pacific Ocean is destined to be the abode of Happiness, Independence, and Freedom, or the wide prison of misery and slavery.’ Resolutions against the admission of any slave State were passed, being supported by Benjamin T. Pickman, Andrew Dunlap, and Joseph Story, a name of authority wherever found.

By these assemblies, the Commonwealth was aroused. It opposed an unbroken front to slavery.

Twenty-five years have passed since these efforts in the cause of freedom. Some of the partakers in them are still spared to us, full of years and honors; but the larger part have been called from the duty [18] of opposing slavery on earth, to His presence, whose service is perfect freedom. But the same question which aroused their energies, presents itself to us. Shall we be less faithful than they? Will Massachusetts oppose a less unbroken front now than then? In the lapse of these few years has the love of freedom diminished? Has the sensibility to human suffering lost any of the keenness of its edge?

Let us regard the question closely. Congress is called upon to sanction the Constitution of Texas, which not only supports slavery, but which contains a clause prohibiting the Legislature of the State from abolishing slavery. In doing this, it will give a fresh stamp of legislative approbation to an unrighteous system; it will assume a new and active responsibility for the system; it will again become a dealer, on a gigantic scale, in human flesh. Yes, at this moment, when the conscience of mankind is at last aroused to the enormity of holding a fellow-man in bondage; when, throughout the civilized world, a slavedealer is a bye-word and a reproach, we, as a nation, are about to become proprietors of a large population of slaves. Such an act, at this time, is removed from the reach of the palliation often extended to slavery. Slavery, we are speciously told by those who seek to defend it, is not our original sin. It was entailed upon us, so we are instructed, by our ancestors; and the responsibility is often, with exultation, thrown upon the mother country. Now, without stopping to inquire into the truth of this suggestion, it is sufficient for the present purpose, to know that by welcoming Texas as a slave State we do make slavery our own original sin. Here is a new case of actual transgression which we cannot cast upon the shoulders of any progenitors, nor upon any mother country, distant in time or place. The Congress of the United States, the people of the United States, at this day, in this vaunted period of light, will be responsible for it; so that it shall be said hereafter, so long as the dismal history of slavery is read, that in the year of Christ, 1846, a new and deliberate act was passed to confirm and extend it.

By the present movement we propose no measure of change. We do not offer to interfere with any institutions of the Southern States, nor to modify any law on the subject of slavery anywhere under the Constitution of the United States. Our movement is conservative in its character. It is to preserve the existing supports of freedom; it is to prevent a violation of the vital principles of free institutions.

By the proposed measure, we not only become parties to the acquisition of a large population of slaves, with all the crime of slavery; but we open a new market for the slaves of Virginia and the Carolinas, [19] and legalize a new slave trade. A new slave trade! Consider this well. You cannot forget the horrors of what is called ‘the middle passage,’ when the crowds of unfortunate human beings, stolen, and borne by sea far from their warm African homes, are pressed on shipboard into spaces of smaller dimensions for each than a coffin. And yet the deadly consequences of this middle passage have been supposed to fall short of those, which are sometimes undergone by the wretched caravans, driven from the exhausted lands of the Northern slave States to the sugar plantations nearer to the sun of the South. It is supposed, that one-quarter part often perish in these removals. I see them, in imagination, on this painful passage, chained in bands or troops, and driven like cattle, leaving behind what has become to them a home and a country (alas! what a home, and what a country!)—husband torn from wife, and parent from child, and sold anew into a more direful captivity. Can this take place with our consent, nay, without our most determined opposition? If the slave trade is to receive a new adoption from our country, let us have no part or lot in it. Let us wash our hands of this great guilt. As we read its horrors, may each of us be able to exclaim, with a conscience void of offence, ‘Thou canst not say I did it.’ God forbid, that the votes and voices of the freemen of the North should help to bind anew the fetter of the slave! God forbid, that the lash of the slave-dealer should be nerved by any sanction from New England! God forbid, that the blood which spirts from the lacerated, quivering flesh of the slave, should soil the hem of the white garments of Massachusetts! But we are told that all exertions will be vain, and that the admission of a new slave State is ‘a foregone conclusion.’ But this is no reason why we should shrink from our duty. ‘I will try,’ was the exclamation of an American general on the field of battle. ‘England expects every man to do his duty,’ was the signal of the British admiral. Ours is a contest holier than those which aroused these animating words. Let us try; let every man do his duty. And suppose New England stands alone in these efforts; suppose Massachusetts stands alone; is it not a noble solitude? Is it not a position of honor? Is it not a position where she will find companionship with all that is great and generous in the past—with all the disciples of truth, of right, of liberty? It has not been her wont on former occasions to inquire whether she should stand alone. Your honored ancestor, Mr. Chairman, who from these walls regards our proceedings to-night, did not ask whether Massachusetts would be alone,. when she [20] commenced the opposition which ended in the independence of the Thirteen Colonies.

But we cannot fail to accomplish great good. It is in obedience to a prevailing law of Providence, that no act of self-sacrifice, no act of devotion to duty, no act of humanity can fail. It stands forever as a landmark; as a point from which to make a new effort. The champions of equal rights and of human brotherhood shall hereafter derive new strength from these exertions.

Let Massachusetts, then, be aroused. Let all her children be summoned to join in this holy cause. There are questions of ordinary politics in which men may remain neutral; but neutrality now is treason to liberty, to humanity, and to the fundamental principles of our free institutions. Let her united voice, with the accumulated echoes of freedom that fill this ancient Hall, go forth with comfort and cheer to all who labor in the same cause everywhere throughout the land. Let it help to confirm the wavering, and to reclaim those who have erred from the right path. Especially may it exert a proper influence in Congress upon the representatives of the free States. May it serve to make them as firm in the defence of freedom as their opponents are pertinacious in the cause of slavery.

Let Massachusetts continue to be known as foremost in the cause of freedom; and let none of her children yield to the fatal dalliance with slavery. You will remember the Arabian story of the magnetic mountain, under whose irresistible attraction the iron bolts which held together the strong timbers of a stately ship were drawn out, till the whole fell apart, and became a disjointed wreck. Do we not find in this story an image of what happens to many Northern men, under the potent magnetism of Southern companionship or Southern influence? Those principles, which constitute the individuality of the Northern character, which render it stanch, strong, and seaworthy, which bind it together, as with iron, are drawn out one by one, like the bolts from the ill-fated vessel, and out of the miserable loosened fragments is formed that human anomaly—A Northern man with Southern principles. Such a man is no true son of Massachusetts.

There is a precious incident in the life of one whom our country has delighted to honor, furnishing an example that we shall do well to imitate. When Napoleon, having reached the pinnacle of military honor, lusting for a higher title than that of First Consul, caused a formal vote to be taken on the question, whether he should be declared Emperor of France, Lafayette, at that time in retirement, and only recently, by [21] the intervention of the First Consul, liberated from the dungeons of Olmutz, deliberately registered his No. At a period, in the golden decline of his high career, resplendent with heroic virtues, revisiting our shores, the scene of his youthful devotion to freedom, and receiving on all sides that beautiful homage of thanksgiving, which is of itself an all-sufficient answer to the sarcasm against the alleged ingratitude of republics, here in Boston, this illustrious Frenchman listened with especial pride to the felicitation addressed to him, as ‘the man who knew so well how to say no.’ Be this the example for Massachusetts, and may it be among her praises hereafter, that on this occasion she knew so well how to say no!