The war is over, but the great revolution of which the war was but a part, is not. We fought under the banner of Union and liberty. And what have we achieved? We have struck down the enemies of the Republic and hold the South in the iron grasp of our military power. But that is not Union. We have proclaimed freedom to the slave and are leaving the slave to fight against re-enslavement with his old master. That is not liberty. I say, therefore, the revolution is not yet finished. I will explain myself.
For half a century the people of this country were indulging in a most unwarrantable delusion. It consisted in this, that a Union was expected to be permanent one section of which cherished institutions and interests peculiar to itself above all those which it had in common with the rest, and those interests and institutions too in conflict with the fundamental principles, with the very life atmosphere of the whole social and political system of this Republic. A man whose memory is consecrated in the heart of every true friend of humanity told us years ago: “A house that is divided against itself cannot stand. This Union, half slave and half free cannot last. It must be either all one or all the other.” The American people have learned to appreciate his wisdom. The delusion was dearly paid for. We count the cost by thousands of graves and a national debt of gloomy magnificence. It is for us to determine whether posterity will look upon this as the reckless squanderings of a spendthrift or the judicious investment of wise husbandry. If the conflict between peculiar interests and institutions on one side, and the fundamental principles of our general system of social and political organization on the other side was the cause of the war, the war if carried on by wise men could have but one object: to make the social and political organism of this Republic an harmonious whole; that is to say, to bring the social and political institutions of the country into harmony with the general spirit of our democratic spirit of government. When that is done the revolution will be finished, and not a moment sooner. When that is done we shall have peace; and until it is done, we shall at best, have only a suspension of hostilities.
As to the true nature of the general spirit of our democratic government, there can hardly be a difference of opinion. Let me refer to that grand old text-book again which in our days at least no sane man will have the hardihood to call a self-evident lie. “All men are created free and equal and have certain inalienable rights.” This, in its practical application means nothing else but that every human being is entitled to a measure of liberty and of political rights sufficient to render it possible for him to attain that development of his mental and moral faculties which he may be capable of and leaves him unobstructed in the pursuit of his own happiness. This involves all, even the duty man owes to society, for the man who develops his mental and moral faculties to the highest perfection he can attain, has rendered to society his greatest service.
This is that general spirit of our democratic system of government with which our institutions must be harmonized, to produce a solid peace and a lasting Union. If the great principles proclaimed on the 4th of July 1776 had effected not only the independence of the Colonies from Great Britain, but also the independence of the whole people from that evil spirit which sustained slavery, the great rebellion would never have occurred. And if we do not succeed in completing the work of independence in that sense the great rebellion is not yet suppressed.
Let us survey the ground upon which we stand. Over eight months have elapsed since the close of the war. There is no further resistance to our army. Those who but recently stood against us a formidable power, acknowledge themselves helpless. We are complete masters of the field. The emancipation of the slaves, first inaugurated by proclamation, has been confirmed by a constitutional amendment. It has thus become a legal fact. But has it become a practical truth? This is the question involving the whole problem. As soon as the status of the emancipated slave in southern society is satisfactorily determined, we need not distress ourselves about the loyalty of the southern people. As soon as the organism of Southern society is brought in entire harmony with the spirit of our democratic system of government, loyalty will become as natural to them as it is to us. If we fail in that harmonization, disloyalty is as certain to be the consequence as treason was the offspring of slavery.
The conflict of arms was hardly over when the President commenced the work of what is commonly called “reconstruction.” That term is somewhat unhappily chosen, for the last thing in the world we ought to do is to reconstruct exactly what was there before, of the material as it lies there. However that may be the work of reconstruction was placed into the hands of the white people of the South themselves. I will not now discuss the theory upon which this was done, but only the practical effects. The white people of the South have now had ample time and opportunity to develop their ideas and to show their intentions; and when inquiring into the manner in which they are endeavoring to effect that whole, [on] the whole the Southern people have done as well as could be expected. I candidly declare I am of the same opinion. As you are aware the President sent me into the South last summer, to observe what was going on and to report to him, and my observations have led me to the conscientious conclusion, that the people of the late rebel States have indeed under the existing circumstances done as well as could be expected. Now let us see what under such circumstances we had a right to expect of them.
Look back with me to the year 1860. The present generation in the South had been taught from early childhood that slavery was not only right but necessary. They had been persistently indoctrinated with the idea that slavery was the only condition in which the negro could be made useful. They had, on their own ground never seen any other system of labor in operation. The system of slave labor was the only one they understood. With it all their doings and their hopes of material success were inseparably connected. More than that, all their ways of thinking[,] their social habits, their political theories and aspirations and even their religious doctrines revolved around it. They believed in it, they idolized it, they clung to it with a sort of religious superstition and their imagination was utterly incapable of realizing any state of society in the South without it. Besides, their political struggles for many years had the preservation of slavery for their object. For slavery they had fought their political battles and their unity of sentiment with regard to slavery had given them that peculiar political power over the government of the nation which they so long enjoyed. For a generation they had been looking upon the people of the North as the sworn enemies of slavery. They saw the Yankee attacking the very idol of their firesides, and their indignation knew no bounds. The election of 1860 threatened to destroy that political ascendancy of the South without which they felt that slavery could not exist. They did not hesitate a moment. They resorted at once to extreme remedies. They staked at once their all upon the cast of war. After a fierce struggle of four years they were defeated. They had sacrificed their children[,] their peace, the prosperity of their country[,] their all for slavery, and suddenly found themselves disarmed. The government of the United States had during the war proclaimed emancipation, and the armies were now everywhere enforcing the decree.
Look at the situation of the Southern people at that moment. Around them nothing but ruin [and] distress, a general breaking up of their social organism. Before them nothing but darkness. I repeat, a state of society in the South without slavery had no place in their imagination. Slavery abolished, the negro set free, they found themselves transferred into a strange land where they could not even find the points of the compass, utterly bewildered. Where they had seen their activity, their prosperity, their pride, they saw nothing but a vacuum, a dreary hopeless blank.
It may be said that in the plan of slavery the system of free labor presented itself to them. But how did it present itself? Emancipation did not come in the gentle form of a quiet and gradual change of circumstances. It came as one of the sudden thunderbolts of war, setting fire to the whole edifice of their social and economical organization. As to free labor — what did they know of free labor and its blessings? They saw only negroes leaving the plantations and congregating around the cities. They heard only their former slaves asking for wages. They saw only crops going to waste. They thought only of a laboring population that in their opinion could not be made to work without physical compulsion and that physical compulsion prohibited by a superior power. They saw only the confusion created by the introduction of a new system of labor which they did not understand, and whose success they did not deem possible. Indeed, in considering their situation, we must not overlook the bewildering aspect of a society which passes through a period of transition from one extreme to another — general disorder, for everybody tries to act upon his own immediate impulses. A general conflict of interests, for the landmarks of society are not yet fixed, and nobody is mindful of others' rights when they stand in his way. A general and violent jostling of elementary forces, for none of them have yet found their natural level. Such a condition of things can not be attractive nor can it be productive for him who does not understand it. A transition period is apt to show all the destructive confusion of a change commenced, and none of the blessings of a change completed.
Such was, then[,] the condition of things in the South, such it is now, and such the impression it must necessarily make upon the Southern mind. All that was dear to them they see in the past, and all that confuses and distresses their minds they find in the present.
And now I ask you with all candor, although they may have done as well as could be expected of them what have we a right to expect of them under such circumstances? Had we a right to expect that as soon as they were forced to drop their arms, they would also drop their animosities, their resentments, their prejudices? Had we a right to expect that as soon as slavery was put down by force of arms, they would at once forget their old idol and worship free labor which presented itself to them in the shape of disorganization, confusion and distress? Had we a right to expect that as soon as we authorized the late slave to pursue his own happiness and to ask for wages, that the late slave holder would at once tender him his hand as a brother? We had certainly no reason to suppose that the Southern people would show themselves so far superior to the rest of mankind in good sense as to rise above all the weakness of human nature and to overcome the shortsightedness of ordinary mortals in a single moment. If they were so much wiser than other people surely they would never have undertaken this war. We must take them as they are, impulsive by nature[,] demoralized by all the barbarous influences of slave society; led astray by false teachings; excited to fanaticism by long struggles, ignorant of all that is good in free labor and mindful only of the advantages they were accustomed to see in slavery; thrown into a nervous anxiety by the necessity of doing something to avert greater distress and seeing in the change that has come over them nothing but disaster; — and I ask again[,] what have we a right to expect of them?
It is true, there was one way to push them on in the direction in which their ultimate salvation must be found. If shortly after the close of the war the government had told them with calm firmness and with determination admitting neither of contradiction nor of false hopes: You must fully and fairly accommodate yourself to the new order of things[,] you must wipe out every trace of slavery; you must establish free labor in the full sense of the term and clearly fix and guarantee in your institutions all the rights to which the free laborer is entitled[,] and until you shall have done so, until thus the full harmonization of the social and political organism of this Republic shall be accomplished, you shall not reenter this Union as co-equal members and not escape from the grasp of the national power — if such had been the language of the government at that period, then indeed, thousands of sensible men in the South, seeing no alternative before them, would undoubtedly have devoted all their energies to the realization of what absolute necessity commanded, and by this time better results would have been obtained. Then indeed, we would have had a right to expect that the Southern people would look to the future for guidance and not to the past.
But unfortunately for the South, such a policy was not followed. I am far from trying to impeach the President's ulterior intentions, but I cannot refrain from deploring the results of the policy he adopted. His proclamations appointing provisional governors produced almost instantaneously a most dangerous effect. They were interpreted by the Southern people as meaning, that, as soon as the prescribed oaths were taken by a sufficient number of individuals and certain political formalities gone through, the people of the late rebel States would be left perfectly free and untrammeled, to settle the labor question, involving the question of human rights and the whole results of the great social revolution, for themselves as it would best suit their own tastes. This impression produced, what had we a right to expect of them then? No sooner did they see a chance of resuming unrestricted control of their home affairs, when they also saw a chance for a reaction in favor of slavery. And seeing that chance, had we any reason to expect that they would not avail themselves of it? Believing that negro labor can be made profitable only by physical compulsion, had we a reason to expect that they would generously drop all their ideas of profit and offer the freedman those rights which they believed to lead to the ruin of the whites? I repeat, I agree with the President, the Southern people, who under other circumstances might have been made to do better, have, under the circumstances, such as they are, done fully as well as could be expected. But just there is the rub. We had no right to expect anything good of them. They might have done even better than we had a right to expect, and yet have done very badly. This is the actual state of the case.
I will not go into a lengthy description of the present condition of things in the South. I have given that in my report, and from my statements given therein I have nothing to retract. Still, I am willing to accept the criticism of those who insist that I have not looked enough at the bright side of the picture. I will not speak of the disorders prevailing, of the outrages committed against freedmen, of the spirit of hostility to Unionists and Northern men. It is said that all these facts are isolated occurences, and do not authorize any general conclusions. Be it so. It is said that the Southern people ask for nothing else than to have their States re-admitted to all their constitutional relations and to be restored to the control of their home affairs. Certainly, that is all they ask for, and unconditionally too, and that is just what they ought not to have until they do what we must ask for. It is said, that we must not judge the majority by the majority's [minority's?] acts. Very well, by nothing else shall the majority of the people be judged. Whatever construction may be placed upon what we learn from the South, one thing cannot be denied, and that is that the sense of the majority of the Southern people finds an expression in the doings of Southern Conventions and Legislatures.
And now I ask you, yes or no, is there a single Legislature in any of the late Rebel States that has conferred upon the freedman the rights and privileges absolutely indispensable for making him a freeman? Not one. What does that mean? But here is Mississippi; her Legislature depriving the freedman of the right to acquire real property; here is South Carolina, with a negro code reestablishing the relation of master and servant, only transferring the negro whipping business from the overseer to the town constable; here is Alabama, permitting the leasing of property to a colored man only on condition that the owner of the property shall be bound to pay the negro's bakers and butchers bills, — a condition under which no man will feel inclined to lease property to a colored man. Here is Louisiana with a negro labor code which delivers the freedman helpless into the hands of the planter. Here is Virginia, with a vagrant and labor law which will reduce the colored man at once to servitude again. Here is North Carolina with all the black laws to enforce slavery still upon her statute book. Are there any reports from the South which will deny these facts? And are these facts giving evidence of the spirit of the majority? And indeed, look at the President himself busy issuing orders. And what does this mean? It means that the emancipation proclamation, the spirit of which was to make the slave a freeman[,] has not been carried out in any rebel State. It means that the people of the Rebel States, instead of developing free labor, are endeavoring to render it impossible. It means that, by heaping disabilities upon the laboring population, they endeavor to find a substitute for slavery. It means that by trying to establish another peculiar institution hostile to the fundamental principles of our government, they are busy rendering that harmonization impossible which alone can be the source of a lasting peace, of true loyalty, and reliable patriotism. In doing this, they have indeed done as well as, under the circumstances[,] could be expected. But have they done well? The President congratulates the country upon having done even better than he had expected. Heaven knows what his expectations were, they must have been even worse than mine.
It is true they have abolished slavery by ordinance: nay they have even gone so far as to ratify the constitutional amendment, and I am asked: Do you mean to charge the Southern people with positive dishonesty? Do you mean to say that they intend to cheat us? No, not at all. I declare with perfect candor, I do not think that the Southern people are acting dishonestly in this case. They do not deal in false pretenses. If we will but open our ears to listen we will hear them tell us distinctly and frankly enough, that all they want is power, and that, when they have it, they mean to use it not to suit us, but to suit themselves. So they tell us and in that they are honest. Their conventions abolish slavery and at the same time authorize the Legislatures to guard against the dangers arising from emancipation. The are not slow in telling us what that means. The freedman is not permitted to become a freeholder: they put him under oppressive and vagrant and apprenticeship laws: they exclude him from the jury-box and do not admit him as an equal to the witness-box; they do not give him a single one of those rights which will enable him to become a true freeman. That is what they mean by abolishing slavery; they tell us so openly and frankly, and if we choose not to mind them it is our fault, not theirs.
It is true, they have ratified the constitutional amendment prohibiting slavery forever, but they did not do so until the Secretary of State had told them, that the second section of the amendment, empowering Congress to enforce the prohibition of involuntary servitude by appropriate legislation, is not enlarging, but restraining the power of Congress. Then, relying upon the assurance, that they, the Southern white, had all, and Congress had no authority over that matter, they ratified the constitutional amendment. And in order to obviate all mistakes as to what they mean by it, the same legislatures that ratified the amendment, go briskly on making their black codes and heaping civil disabilities upon the freedmen. Now, there is no hypocrisy in this on their part. They do not attempt to cheat us; if there is any cheating at all, we are cheating ourselves. If out of this any conflicts arise it is not their fault; it is not their dishonesty, but it is our folly.
I think there can be no reasonable doubt as to the President's intentions. He certainly desires the Southern people to become truly loyal. He certainly desired the emancipated slave to become a true freeman. He certainly desires that harmonization of institutions and fundamental principles to be effected which alone can give to the Republic solid unity and the country a true and lasting peace. This desire he manifested in a series of telegraphic dispatches to Southern Governors and Legislatures.
But what was the result of all this? The Southern Legislatures yielded ostensibly point after point, sometimes with a growl, sometimes without any expression of their feelings. Why did they yield? They frankly told us why: they hoped thereby to accelerate the advent of the day when the President would no longer have any authority to send on telegraphic despatches. And after all this we are advised that it is now time to admit the people of the rebel States to their representation in Congress and thus close up the whole business. Let us look at this a little more closely.
Some time ago, when here and there objection was made to the great liberality with which the Government was treating the late rebels of the South, — a magnanimity which to many looked somewhat like the injustice and cruelty to the Union men and loyal blacks — we were told it was wise to give the Southern people some liberty of action — to give them some rope, as the common saying is. We were assured that the Government would well take care to keep the other end of the rope in its hands, so as to be able to pull it in again if it should become necessary. Well, rope was given. Southern men, most of them to some extent compromised in the rebellion, were appointed Provisional Governors. Conventions were called, a large majority of whose members had been active participants in the rebellion. State officers and Legislatures were elected of the same material. The Legislatures passed such laws as I have described, and government of the State is turned over to the hands of the State officers and Legislatures so chosen, by those who had but lately stood in arms against us. It seems to me the rope we had to give them is nearly all gone. Only Congress is still holding in its hands a little end of it. There is almost nothing left for us to give them, but their representation in Congress. Give them that and we have let our end of the rope slip. It is all gone. And what have we in turn? Have we any guarantee that they will make the freedman a freeman and harmonize their institutions with the great principles of democratic government? Have we even any promises? Alas! We can read their promises in their acts. If they enact black codes when they might expect to make something by merely abstaining from it, what will they do when they have obtained everything they want without abstaining from it? And under such circumstances Congress is asked to admit the late rebel States to representation, influence and power, and thus to let go the brakes that might still arrest them in their fatal career. It is hardly necessary to describe the consequences. Look at this picture. The Senators and representatives admitted into Congress; the only means by which we could extort guarantees from the late slaveholders gone; the rebel States more powerful than ever in Congress, for the nominal freedom of the colored population increases the number of their representatives; they are as firmly united as ever and will be a unit upon three points: first to throw every obstacle in the way of any provision to be made for the payment of our national debt; second, to demand from us compensation for their emancipated slaves, and third, to resist to the bitter end any measure calculated to protect the negro against the restoration of a system of compulsory labor. And, finding a few willing tools among the representatives of the North, dictate their will again as in times now almost forgotten; the emancipated slave helpless in the hands of his late master; the negro soldier who, during the war staked for us his blood, his life, his all, turned over to the tender mercies of those whom in the war he fought, without power to protect himself, without protection from abroad; the musket he had carried with honor when charging on the works of Port Hudson or storming the heights of Nashville, taken from him; it graces the hand of one who may also have been at Nashville or Port Hudson, but then aiming straight at the heart of the Union; but now, he is one of those who having distinguished himself by faithfulness to the rebel cause, is deemed worthy to be [a] Southern militia man, and, as a member of the county patrol, “to keep the nigger where he belongs.” In such hands the black Union soldier sees his weapon, and he begins to curse the day when he first carried it. Meanwhile, legislation goes on, the same legislation which we witness today already, only more perfect; the negro must not be permitted to own land; he must have no home of his own for himself and his children; the negro must serve the white man, and whenever he attempts to become his own master, he must be punished as a vagrant and hired out at auction; the negro must be made to work for the white man by physical compulsion, for otherwise, the profits of the white man may not be large enough; the negro must not presume to indulge in the pursuit of his own happiness, for if he were permitted to do so, it would interfere with the happiness of the superior race; in one word, the negro must not be a free man, for such is the pleasure of the white man lately in rebellion. This legislation accomplished and enforced, — and the rebel States with their increased representation in Congress and the aid of the Northern doughfaces, may well hope to enforce it — the new peculiar institution is there and in its defense the rebel States will stand a defiant unit upon the neck of Southern rights. And the result? A familiar voice from the grave answers: “A house divided against itself cannot stand. It will fall unless it cease to be divided.”
The negro has for one moment tasted the sweets of liberty, and a man who has drunk one draft of the heavenly cup will never again willingly [put] his neck under the yoke of servitude. Besides, in the service of the Union, the negro has learned to fight, and we have taught him, and when the hand of the oppressor weighs too heavily, may be he will rise. But what of it? The musket he carried at Port Hudson, Nashville and Petersburg, is in the hands of the gallant young Southern militiamen who did such brave service for the rebellion; the struggle will be all too unequal, and the arms of the Union in the hands of those who but yesterday were its enemies, may be destined to achieve some strange victories over those who but yesterday fought for it as its most faithful friends. And the glorious banner of the stars and stripes will gaily decorate the scene.
And then? Then we shall [apply] the flattering unction to our souls that the Southern people of the rebel States have done as well, as under existing circumstances we had a right to expect.
What is this? Is it [It is?] not an overcolored fancy picture; it is not the offspring of a troubled imagination. It is my deep and sincere conviction based upon information diligently gathered and carefully considered. This is the natural result of a policy based upon the absurd presumption that the people of the rebel States will do better than we have a right to expect. It is reconstruction as going on today, past, present and prospective. No doubt the intention of those who inaugurated it were good. But we have a proverb which says, The road to hell is paved with good intentions.
Much is already lost. The golden opportunity of the first moment after the final victory of the Union arms is gone, and what might then have been accomplished with ease may now cost a severe struggle. But thank heaven, it is not too late yet; the spirit of the loyal people of the United States that gave victory to the national arms, gave the country a Congress true to the cause of freedom.
It seems to be the solution of the problem of reconstruction which seems so intricate when we follow the tangled arguments of politicians, would be rendered exceedingly simple by the application of a little common sense. There are a few considerations which, if well kept in mind, cannot fail to guide us in the right direction. The mere statement of them will make them clear to the plainest understanding.
Point first: — If you want to make treason odious you must not appoint the traitors in mass to lord it over the loyal men.
Point second: — If you want to have free labor established you must not put the work into the hands of proslavery men.
Point third: — If you want people of the rebel States to do what they are not inclined to do, you must not part with the power by which you can make them do it, until they have done it.
Point fourth: — If you want to be strong and to be considered honest and truly generous men, you must not betray and sacrifice your friendship for the purpose of pleasing your enemies.
These are simple rules of action which every wise man will conscientiously adhere to in the management of his private affairs; and they cannot be set aside with impunity in the management of the great affairs of the people.
Let us see what kind of action they would lead us to. You will pardon me for quoting a sentence from my report on the state of affairs in the South. “The true nature of the difficulties of the situation is this: The General Government of the Republic has, by proclaiming the emancipation of the slaves, commenced a great social revolution in the South, but has, as yet, not completed it. Only the negative part of it is accomplished. The slaves are emancipated in point of form, but free labor has not yet been put in the place of slavery in point of fact. And now, in the midst of this critical period of transition, the power which originated the revolution, is expected to turn over its whole future development to another power which from the beginning was hostile to it and has never yet entered into its spirit, leaving the class in whose favor it was made completely without power to protect itself and to take an influential part in that development. The history of the world will be searched in vain for a proceeding similar to this which did not lead either to a rapid and violent reaction or to the most serious trouble and civil disorder.”
This, I think is so plain and irrefutable as to require no further argument. There never was a privileged class that gave up its privileges of its own free will and choice; there never was one that made important concessions unless they were extorted from it; there never was one that, after having been compelled to surrender its privileges, whenever it saw a chance for recovering them, abstained from taking advantage of it. Is there, perhaps, anything in the character of the Southern whites that would make them an exception to the rule? So whatever their good qualities may be, the only three things which might induce them to yield up their pretensions without compulsion, are just those which they are most deficient in: a just regard for the rights of others, a correct appreciation of the spirit of our century, and common sense generally.
In what way, then, shall we overcome what I have stated to be the principle difficulty of our situation? There are two things we can do to secure the full development of the social revolution which the government has inaugurated in the South. Either the Government must continue to protect the rights of the emancipated class by direct and continual interference with the home concerns of the Southern States, or the Government must enable the emancipated class to protect itself.
The continued protection of the emancipated class in the South by the General Government requires a complicated machinery. Congress must not only possess the power to pass laws upon that subject, but as free labor cannot be protected in detail the General Government must have a sufficient constabulary force on the ground to enforce those laws, for certainly, the Southern people themselves will not enforce them. For this, the appointment of United States Marshals and their deputies will not be sufficient, as the number of individuals to be protected is very large, and as the United States Marshals and their deputies will probably be Southern men with Southern principles. It would require then, some sort of permanent military occupation of the South, and the indefinite continuation of some sort of Freedmen's Bureau under the direct orders of the General Government. Such things are quite admissible in a transition period while the affairs of the country are still in a sort of revolutionary confusion, but if they be indefinitely continued, it is evident that they would lead to a centralization of power which would seriously impair the right of local self government, one of the most distinguishing features of our political system. In one word, it would be the anti-democratic way of removing a difficulty. Besides, centralized power is apt to change hands. One Congress in which the coalition of the increased Southern representation and a sufficient number of Northern negro haters gained the majority, would be able to undo all the good accomplished by previous Congresses.
The second way I indicated, which consists in enabling the emancipated class to protect itself, would be not only the more simple and efficient, but also the more democratic way, and every sincere and consistent democrat must be instinctively in favor of it. It is in perfect accordance with the spirit of self-government characteristic of our institutions.
Can you think of a more glaring absurdity than to place the organization and further development of free labor into the hands of those who are opposed to it, excluding all those who are in favor of it? The commonest kind of common sense will tell us, that in order to secure freedom by the action of the people, we must give legislative voice to those who want freedom. If we want the emancipated class to protect itself, we must give it the power wherewith to do it, and in democratic communities there is but one such power: it consists in the ballot. The right to vote will give the emancipated slave a certain measure of political influence; in giving him that influence it makes him an object of solicitude to political parties; secures his protection; in protecting the laborer it protects the system of free labor; in promoting the full development of free labor, it promotes that harmonization of institutions and fundamental principles which is necessary to insure the stability of this Republic. I am not so much in love with the negro race as to ask for them the right to vote because they are negroes, but because the safety of the Union, the cause of free labor and the cause of democratic government need their enfranchisement just as much as they need it themselves. Exclude from the elective franchise the whole laboring population of the South, and you will have either the revival of the “peculiar institution” with its disloyal tendencies, or the necessity of governing the South by means of centralized power, — in either case the impossibility of true democratic government. Give to him that wants freedom the power to secure and protect it, in the shape of the ballot, and you have established harmony between institutions and principles and solved the problem of reconstruction by enlarging the democratic basis of our government. But here we encounter at once a formidable array of objections. I am asked, is the ignorant emancipated slave capable of voting intelligently upon all the questions submitted to him? I do not hesitate to answer No! And there are but very few men of any class who vote intelligently the first time. We go on learning as we go on voting. Nay more, there are but very few men generally who vote with a full understanding of all the questions submitted to them. The strength of the democratic system of government does not consist in the whole mass of voters clearly and minutely understanding every question submitted to them in all its bearings; the strength of the democratic system consists in the whole mass of citizens having the right to vote. The vote of the individual depends in a great measure upon the nature of his nearest interests, his traditions and the circumstances under which he lives. If previous to the rebellion the vote of the blacks had been taken with that of the whites, not a single state would have abandoned the Union for the purpose of founding an empire upon the cornerstone of slavery. The blacks would have voted for Union and the abolition of slavery, and their vote would have been wiser and more patriotic than that of the most refined heads of the white aristocracy. Had their vote been taken, our heroic dead would be still among us and the Republic would bear no burden of indebtedness. And at this moment, do you think the black man will be so stupid as to vote in favor of the white man's having authority to whip him? Do you not think he will have sense enough to vote in favor of his having the right to work for fair wages as freely as any other man? Well then he has sense enough to vote right for the great cause of free labor, for the harmony of institutions and principles, and for a just and wise settlement of those difficulties before which all other questions agitating us dwindle down to nothingness. We are frequently asked: Are you sure whether they will vote with your party, and whether they will vote right on this or that question? Their right to vote decides the most important question of our days in the right direction.
If you do not consider him intelligent enough let him be educated, and as he cannot hope for general education of his race without power to enforce his right, let him vote to secure his education. I am told the negroes are an inferior race. Admitted for argument. But is not the negro race capable of higher development of its moral and intellectual faculties than that which it has attained? Then it is entitled to a fair chance for that development, and if it cannot secure that fair chance without the right to vote, we are in conscience bound to secure him the right to vote.
But I am asked, will not the enfranchisement of the negro lead to social equality of the races? How terribly afraid some people are lest the negro become their equal! How delighted some people are, how they clap their hands, when somebody assures them that laws must be passed to prevent the negro from becoming their equal. It is not a little singular that those who are so tremulous lest the negro become their equal, are identically the same men, who assert with such terrible emphasis that the negro can never become the equal of the white man. Well, if he cannot become our equal, that he will not. Why then all this excitement and perspiration about it? But if the negro can be lifted up to become morally and intellectually the equal of the white man, then he ought to be, and it would be a crime against God and man to throw obstacles in his way.
The right of voting and social equality. I have frequently been asked by serious men: would you like a negro to marry one of your daughters. Candidly speaking, no. But what has that to do with the right to vote? I have known United States Senators who would be decidedly disagreeable to me as suitors for the hands of my daughters. But I do not want to disfranchise them on that account. I am far from desiring the right to vote [only] to those whom I would consider desirable persons to become my sons-in-law.
It is true the prejudice which stands in the way of the negro is widely spread and deeply rooted. I will confess, I do not feel myself free from it. I like white men decidedly better. It may be a weakness, but so it is. But God forbid, that I should permit my prejudices to interfere with my innate sense of justice and my convictions of right. We encounter another objection. We are asked: would it be democratic to impose upon the Southern people things which they ought to settle for themselves? Ought we not to trust those people with their own government, and have confidence in the working of our democratic institutions? Yes. I am willing to leave these things for settlement to the Southern people, — but to the whole Southern people and not to a privileged class among them. Yes, I am willing to trust the whole people. I am not willing to trust who but yesterday were our enemies with the exclusive right to govern those who always were our friends. Yes, I have confidence in the working of our democratic institutions, but because I have confidence in democratic institutions only, I want to see the institutions of the late rebel States placed upon a truly democratic basis which knows no governing and no governed class. It is the vindication of the democratic principle which I advocate, it is the subversion of the democratic principle which I oppose. But it is objected that to impose upon the rebel States conditions precedent to re-admission, would in itself be an act of usurpation; that those states are at the present moment full States in the Union and have all the rights and prerogatives of such. And in order to give weight to the opinion, it is said that such is the theory acted upon by the President. In fact, its being supposed to be adhered to by the President is the only strength this theory has; for, I am sure, were it not so, no sensible man in the party would entertain it for a moment. They will certainly assert that during the rebellion the territory of the rebel States was within the boundaries of the Union but they would certainly not argue that therefore those states during the rebellion were full constitutional States in the Union. But I boldly assert it cannot be the President's theory; for if he really did believe that the rebel States were in full standing as States of the Union, how could he undertake to issue Presidential orders to sovereign States and to regulate their interior concerns with telegraphic despatches? How could he, as in the case of Mississippi, set solemnly enacted State laws aside with a mere stroke of his pen? Since when has the President of the United States such dictatorial powers over State Legislation? No, to judge from his acts, the President cannot look upon those States in their present condition than as irregularly organized communities which wait for the action of Congress to give them a legal existence. But, if the President really should consider them full constitutional States, his own acts would seem to show what must become of the theory when it is reduced to practice by the same man who entertains it.
Still, we are told, that we cannot impose conditions and exact guarantees with regard to the interior concerns of those States, without causing a dangerous centralization of power in the hands of the general government. We are told that we can not do these things without causing a dangerous centralization of power in the hands of the general government. I answer, it is just that centralization of power I labor to avoid. There is no man in the country who is more deeply sensible than I am of the evils and dangers the establishment of a centralized power would entail upon us. I know as well as anyone, that the liberties, the prosperity, the happiness, the future unity of the American people depend upon the integrity of self-government, and the integrity of self-government depends upon every man having the right to participate in it. And I declare, and I speak from my clearest and profoundest conviction, I see no way to prevent a dangerous centralization of power but by placing the self-government of the people in every nook and corner of the country upon so broad a democratic basis as to render uncalled for the protection by the general government of individuals and classes against wilful oppression by other individuals and classes. And to render such protective interference by the general government unnecessary, there is again but one way; it is that every class of people be secured in the enjoyment of those political rights which enable it to protect itself. This is the only reliable guarantee we can have at the same time against the local oppression and against a general centralization of power.
Do you not see what is going [on] at the present moment? The tables of both Houses of Congress are groaning under a load of bills for the protection of the freedmen, each proposing measures directly interfering with the local concerns of the South. Nay, more than that, the President by telegraphic orders, unhesitatingly sets aside local regulations and so-called State laws, to shield the freedmen against injustice and oppression. Is not that the commencement of a centralization of power? And how long will it continue? At least as long as the oppression and injustice continue, and longer, if we once get into the habit of it. And how long will the injustice and oppression continue? Just as long as the freedmen have no power to protect themselves by taking part in making the local laws that are to govern them. I repeat, there is no escape from centralization of power unless we succeed in building up safeguards for right and justice in the establishment of truly democratic institutions throughout the country.
Are we in search of a theory upon which to justify this policy of justice and patriotism? The broadest and the most unassailable is near at hand. We are passing through a great revolution. The events of the last four years, events colossal enough to make the history of half a century dramatic, produced contingencies which were unforseen by those who made the constitution, and unprovided for in the fundamental laws of the country. The dangers we had to grapple with and the problems we had to solve, obliged us more than once to fall back upon those broad elementary principles which alone can serve as safe guides when constitutions fail to furnish precise rules of action. And even the circumstances which surround us at the present moment are far outside of the old accustomed circle of our constitutional notions. The Constitution did not contemplate the possibility of combinations of States against the Union; of States attempting to sever the relations with the national government by acts of rebellion; of States temporarily losing their attributes as members of the Union, losing even their political organization in consequence of a civil war; and not contemplating such possibilities, the Constitution says nothing of the manner in which such States shall be restored. It gives no precise rules of action applicable to the unforseen case, and yet it is evident that action must be taken. But who shall act? Here the sovereignty of the people of the Republic steps into its great office, the sovereignty of the people, which is embodied in the Congress of the United States of which the President forms but a part. And where shall that highest of all authorities known to our fundamental laws find its rules of action if the Constitution furnishes none? Let us inquire what patriotism, what prudence, what devotion to liberty, what the spirit of our democratic system of government, what justice and honor command, — and it will not be far from that which the makers of the Constitution would have ordained, had they forseen the circumstances which surround us and the problems we have to solve.
And what does patriotism and love of Union demand? It demands that, since the institution which bred treason and danger to the Union has, after a fearful struggle, been struck down, no new institutions and interests bearing the germ of disloyalty and danger to the Union must be permitted to grow up. What does prudence demand? It demands that whatever trust we may place in those who but lately were in arms as the enemies of the Union, we must not trust them beyond their own professions; and that they must not be relieved of that national control, which can insist upon guarantees, until they have given sufficient bond for future good behavior.
What does justice demand? It demands that although we do not think of taking revenge upon the enemies of the Union, generosity to them must not go so far as to become injustice and cruelty to the Union's friends; it demands that the friends of the Union must be recognized as having the first claim upon the Government's consideration, and the enemies of the Union the last; and that, while we are willing to forgive and forget wrongs committed, we must never permit ourselves to forget services rendered.
And what does the voice of honor demand? It demands, nay, it cried out loudly, that we should rather give up our last farthing than fail to discharge the obligations we contracted towards those who helped us in the hour of the greatest national peril. No man could stand up before the loyal people of the country and openly advocate the repudiation of the national debt. But are the three thousand millions all we owe? Have we not called upon the negro to step into the ranks of the nation's defenders and to risk his blood and life, under the solemn promise that he should be a free man? We abhor the idea of repudiation and would resent as an insult every suspicion of our good faith. Mean as it would be to betray those who, when we needed it gave us their money, the meanest and most shameless of all kinds of repudiation would be, if we did not pay our debt to those who gave us their blood. To shirk the payment of a debt to a rich man is simply dishonest. But to swindle the helpless poor out of his dues, to wantonly cheat the beggar out of his honest earnings, is a thousand times worse than dishonesty; it is the full maturity of human baseness. I declare here before the American people and the nations of the world, and I wish the President of the United States and Congress and every voter in the land to hear and understand me. If, after having called the negro upon the field of battle upon the promise that his race should be forever and truly free, the government of this Republic re-admits the rebel States to the full enjoyment of their rights and the full exercise of their powers without previously exacting such irreversible stipulations as will fully secure the negro against encroachments upon his liberty, it will be the most unnatural, the most treacherous, the most dastardly act ever committed by any nation in history; such an act will render everyone that participates in it unfit forever to sit in the company of gentlemen. Let no man deceive himself. It is in vain to resort to constitutional quibbles. It is in vain to speculate upon the mutual aversion of the races. It is in vain to bring forward all those little schemes of deportation and the like which only give evidence of the ingenuity of men who strive to find out how not to do it. It is in vain to say, “Let us trust the rebels; they will at last do justice to the negro.” We have no right to make experiments with other people's lives and liberties. We ourselves have to discharge this solemn obligation, and it is downright dishonesty to delegate it to others. If we fail in this duty, no artful pretext can shield us from the judgment of this and of coming centuries, and from the verdict of our own consciences. It was under the banner of the stars and stripes that this compact was fairly made; and that banner will bear a blot of eternal disgrace unless the compact be fairly carried out.
Such is the voice of patriotism, of prudence, of devotion to liberty and Union, of justice and of honor. There is indeed no mental or moral faculty in the American people which the solemnity of our situation does not call out. Reconstruction does not mean the mere temporary patching up of a passing difficulty. It does not mean the mere setting in motion again of the disturbed machinery of government. Its business is not done when it has bound up the bleeding wounds of the past; it is its great office to lay the foundation for the whole future of this Republic. It is the second birth of the American nation. Let those who have the business in hand be mindful of their tremendous responsibility. Let them never forget, that great problems involving the whole destiny of a nation cannot be solved by small schemes, but that they require a faithful application of those great and simple principles which are never failing guides to every righteous man whose mind demands counsel of his conscience.
And let the people never forget that all the wonderful things they have done, will have a claim to greatness only if they lead to great and lasting results. I do not undervalue what we have accomplished. We have carried the Republic through a struggle of terrible fierceness and gigantic dimensions. On the spur of the moment we called into play resources so far hardly known to exist. We set on foot immense military and naval armaments as by enchantment. We showed a firmness in disaster and a moderation in success which no democracy was ever thought capable of. We disbanded immense armies in a few weeks and effected their total absorption by the peaceful industry of the country without even causing a ripple on the surface. We proclaimed freedom to four millions of slaves and inaugurated at one blow a social reform which seemed to demand a century of preparation. We have demonstrated in the eyes of mankind that the government of the people is the strongest of all governments.
And yet, grand as these things are, if we forget at this supreme moment what our highest duty as well as our truest interests demand, we may still see it recorded in the history of the world that this nation was immensely strong, terribly unjust and wonderfully foolish.
But I have faith in the American people. For four years they have fought the battle of conscience, and they will not rest — let those in power know it — until conscience has secured its victory.