The Continental Monthly, Vol. 6, No 3, September 1864

Wife (throwing her arms round him, and resting her head on his bosom). My Henry! my Henry! I am so, so happy!

Voice (from below). I have murdered three kings with my own hand; ten are still left for the block: a hundred priests still sing mass—

Voice (from the left). The sun has lost the half of its glory; its light is dying; the stars have lost their way, and hurtle each other from their paths—woe! woe!

The Man. The Day of Judgment has already come upon me!

Wife. Do not look so sad, Henry. Cheer up, you make me again unhappy! What is the matter? I can tell you something will make you so glad.

The Man. Tell me what it is. I will do everything you wish me to do,

Wife. Listen! Your son will be a Poet!

The Man. What are you saying, Mary?

Wife. The priest, when he baptized him, gave him first the name: Poet; and then: George Stanislaus.

It is I who have done this; first I blessed him—then I affixed a curse to the blessing: I know he will be a Poet!

Voice (from above). Father, forgive them; they know not what they do!

Wife. There is some one above us, suffering from strange and incurable madness; is it not so?

The Man. Very strange.

Wife. He does not know what he is saying; but I can tell you how it would all be if God should go mad.

She seizes him by the hand

All the worlds would go flying about, up and down, and crash against one another: every worm would cry out: 'I am God!' and then some of them would die every moment; they would all perish one after the other!

All the comets and suns would go out in the sky! Christ would redeem us no longer; He would tear His bleeding hands away from the nails, and pitch the cross into the bottomless abyss. It falls!

Listen! how this cross, the hope of millions, goes crashing and hurtling against the stars! Hark! it breaks! it flies asunder! the sky grows dark with the ruined fragments—they fall like hail, deeper, deeper—a wild storm surges from them—dreadful!

The holy Mother of God alone continues to pray, and the faithful stars, her servants, which have not yet deserted her:—but she too will plunge where all created things are storming down, for God is mad—and Christ has thrown away His Cross!

The Man. Mary, will you not come home with me to see our child?

Wife. I have given wings to our son, and dipped him under the waves of the sea, that he might take into his soul all that is beautiful, sublime, and terrible. He will return to you a poet, and you will rejoice in him.

Ah me! ah me!

The Man. Do you suffer, Mary?

Wife. Some one has hung up a lamp in my brain—and the light sways and flickers—I cannot bear it!

The Man. My beloved Mary, be calm and tranquil, as you were wont to be!

Wife. Poets never live long.

She faints

The Man. Help! Save her! Help!

Several women rush in

The Wife of the Physician. Pills—powders—no. She can swallow nothing solid; a fluid potion is the best.

Margaret, run for the apothecary!

Speaking to the Count

This is all your fault, and my husband will be very angry.

Wife. Henry, my Henry, farewell!

The Wife of the Physician. You are then the count!

The Man. Mary! Mary!

Takes her in his arms

Wife. I am well—happy! I die near thee!

Her head sinks upon his breast

The Wife of the Physician. Her face grows crimson—the blood is rushing to her brain.

The Man. Her pure heart breaks—nor love nor wrong can ever reach her more! O Mary! Mary!

The Physician enters and approaches the sofa

Physician. It is all over now: she is dead!

SOUND REFLECTIONS

THE CONSTITUTIONAL AMENDMENT

On Wednesday, the fifteenth day of June, in the year of our Lord one thousand eight hundred and sixty-four, the following resolution, which had already passed the Senate, was put upon its final passage in the House of Representatives as a joint resolution of Congress, to be proposed to the people of the United States for an amendment to the Constitution:

'Section 1. Neither slavery nor involuntary servitude, except as a punishment for crime, whereof the party shall have been duly convicted, shall exist in the United States, or any place subject to their jurisdiction.

'Section 2. Congress shall have power to enforce this article by appropriate legislation.'

The resolution was rejected for failure of the two-thirds vote required by the Constitution on a question of amendment; the vote standing, yeas ninety-four, nays sixty-five. Which vote has definitely determined two things: first, that the party which calls itself Democratic is afraid to trust this question to the people, and so belies its honored name; and secondly, that there is a political element in our country whose attachment to the slaveholding interest survives the attachment of the slaveholding interest to the Union. Is this the best evidence of patriotism?

Three years ago this summer of 1864, even after the treason of Southern leaders had precipitated the flagrant Southern rebellion, ay, and even after treason had dared the loyal army of the nation and flaunted its defiant banner on the field of battle, the sentiment of a forbearing people declared that no interference with the local establishments of the treason-infected South would be permitted. So faithful were we to the compromises of our fathers; so loth to believe in the wicked purpose that had moved the rebellion. Three years of desperate resistance to the nation's authority, three years of war, with its lessons of bitterness, and grief, and death, and agony worse than death, have convinced us that no further compromise is possible. Men told us so before, but we were too devoted to the Union to believe in a treason that would not stop short of the nation's complete dishonor. God be thanked that we know the issue at last! Our conviction has gradually, but how immovably, established itself! And now the sentiment of the people, no longer forbearing, but not less just, and based upon the same unalterable devotion to the Union, withdraws the pledges of the past and dictates an amendment to the Constitution that shall leave no possibility of slaveholding treason hereafter. That sentiment has found expression in two mass conventions, representing the undoubted overwhelming majority of the people, and it remains now to show the justice of it. It is accordingly the purpose of this paper to discuss the nature of the proposed amendment, and to state some controlling reasons in favor of it.

The question, plainly stated, is: Ought the Constitution to be amended so as to abolish slavery throughout the United States? Or, in other words, Ought liberty to become part of the supreme law of the land? Ought the idea of the nation to be now, at last, incorporated into the law of the nation, and so made a fixed fact of the nation's history?

It should seem that the mere statement of the question suggests the basis and positive force of the affirmative of it. For it reminds us at once of the mighty revolution that has agitated and aroused it. The progress of a century has been crowded into less than a decade of years. The statesmanship of 1850 (profound and patriotic, as alas! it is to be feared, too much of what we call statesmanship to-day is not) has been outgrown. Let us not be startled by the statement. The highest art of politics is to recognize existing facts. No thinking person will deny that the policies of the past are powerless to-day. We cannot, if we would, unmake the history of the last ten years. Tempora mutantur, et mutamur in illis. Or, as a distinguished and eloquent son of Tennessee lately paraphrased this old maxim: 'The world moves, and takes us along with it, whether we will or not.'

Our discussion naturally divides itself into two branches: first, as to the right, or constitutional power, to adopt the proposed amendment; and secondly, as to the expediency and necessity of it.

I. THE RIGHT, UNDER THE CONSTITUTION, TO ADOPT THE PROPOSED AMENDMENT

No characteristic of the American people is more marked than their regard for law; and in nothing is that characteristic more striking than in their respect for the Constitution, the supreme law of the land. Whatever seems to come in conflict with that supreme law must encounter an irresistible odium. And herein appears the splendid fruit of the teachings of our great legists and statesmen, enforced, as they are, by the hereditary traditions of our Anglo-Saxon birthright. It is, moreover, a standing proof that democracy is not necessarily radical and destructive; and so furnishes us with a complete answer to the assumptions of English Tories, as in Alison's 'History of Europe,' that democracy is but the organized exponent of the self-willed passions of the multitude. What thing, indeed, is more wonderful than the tenacity with which conscientious men still cling to the doctrine (that had once some reason for it) of constitutional guaranties in behalf of slavery—an institution that has inspired the most monstrous treason of all history! What people but the American would still be hesitating, after the solemn experience of these three years, to strike down every possible support to slavery!

Surely the lesson of the French Revolution, in its trumpet-toned warning to the nations against a destructive radicalism, has not been lost upon us. How ought we to adore the Providence, guided by whose inspiration (as with becoming reverence we may believe) Washington and his supporters directed our infant republic in the track of English conservatism, fearful of the vagaries of the Red Republicanism of France! This prudent policy justifies itself more and more in our experience; and to-day the great heart of the people beats in unison with those Providential leadings. Therefore it is that the question, in reference to any measure, Is it constitutional? far from exciting ridicule, as sometimes with superficial thinkers it has done, is to be recognized as proof of our magnificent control over the wayward factions of the hour, and of our abiding trust in the hardly less than inspired wisdom of our fathers, to which we thus make our ultimate appeal. For the Constitution is the organic law of the nation, and stands for the firm foundation of our national life. The indissoluble bond of the Union, it is itself the palladium of our liberties. It is, in fine, the grandest chart of liberty and law, of justice and political order, which the world ever saw. The man who dares knowingly violate its provisions merits the punishment that followed the sacrilegious touch of David's servant to the ark of the covenant—instant death. In the midst of a fierce conflict with traitors who set at nought its binding force, let us beware lest in our zeal to punish them we be not guilty of an equal crime!

We yield, then, to no one in our devotion to the Constitution. We will not allow that any one goes before us in reverence for it. But we are of those who think that the time has come, in the providence of God, for an amendment to its provisions.

Indeed, the Constitution derives not the least portion of its claim upon our tender regard from the fact that it recognizes the eternal law of progress; and, while establishing a government whose stability should be as enduring as the principles upon which it is based, does not assume to declare that it has exhausted the possibilities of the future. Guarding against any and every impulse of popular passion, it nevertheless leaves scope for the necessary changes of time and circumstance, which may make the politic statesmanship of one period the exploded fallacy of the next. For of the science of politics it may be said, as in the glowing eulogy of Macaulay upon the philosophy of Bacon: 'It is a philosophy which never rests, which has never attained its end, which is never perfect. Its law is progress. A point which yesterday was invisible is its goal to-day, and will be its starting-post to-morrow.' Political science, indeed, is only another one of those 'illustrations of universal progress,' which the genius of Herbert Spenser has made familiar to our literature. And therefore it is that we cannot too much admire the sagacity of the patriots who framed our Constitution. It was a sagacity drawing its inspiration from all history, which taught, and teaches, that if progress is attempted to be checked, it will find vent in volcanic revolution. Reformation is the watchword of history: anarchy and destruction the fate of those nations which heed it not.

Thus it was that the principle of amendment found its way into the Constitution of the United States—a principle so just that by it we are enabled in these bitter days to faithfully withstand the usurpation that seeks to justify itself by appealing to the right of revolution. For in the principle of amendment (as has heretofore been stated in this magazine) the right of revolution was at the same time recognized and exalted; and by it a means of war was made a means of peace, and so revolution was sought to be forestalled. Nothing but despotism itself would have disregarded this humane provision of the Constitution, and sought a remedy for alleged grievances that is only justified by despotism.

What, then, is the principle of amendment in our Constitution, and what are its provisions? They are found in the fifth article, and read thus: 'The Congress, whenever two thirds of both Houses shall deem it necessary, shall propose amendments to this Constitution, or, on the application of the legislatures of two thirds of the several States, shall call a convention for proposing amendments, which, in either case, shall be valid to all intents and purposes, as part of this Constitution, when ratified by the legislatures of three fourths of the several States, or by conventions in three fourths thereof, as the one or the other mode of ratification may be proposed by the Congress; provided, … that no State, without its consent, shall be deprived of its equal suffrage in the Senate.'

Can anything be clearer? And yet how men have contrived to mystify the whole question by vague declamation about the rights of States! As if those rights of States that were meant to be protected, were not carefully guarded by the article itself, and especially by the proviso 'that no State, without its consent, shall be deprived of its equal suffrage in the Senate'! As if, too, the rights of the States were everything, the rights of the Nation nothing! It might well be asked, moreover (as, indeed, a discriminating writer in The Evening Post has lately asked), whether the people of the States have no rights that are to be considered in this discussion; whether there are not certain reserved rights of the people that have been violated by many States—rights reserved in the very constitutions of those States, as well as in the Constitution of the United States? But let it be noted, as above intimated, that this fifth article is duly careful to guard the rights of States. Three fourths of the States must concur in the amendment; and in no event may a State be unwillingly deprived of its equal suffrage in the Senate, which is the distinguishing mark of the independent equality of all the States in the Union. On the other hand, the rights of the States being thus protected in a manner and degree which we must suppose to have been satisfactory to the men who framed and the States which ratified the Constitution, the article then proceeds to care for the rights of the Nation, by declaring that the amendment duly ratified by three fourths of the States 'shall be valid, as part of the Constitution:' thus binding all the States, the three fourths which have ratified it, and the one fourth which may not have ratified it. We have here a key to the motives of the Southern rebellion. The leaders of Southern politics knew well that an amendment like the one now proposed must one day come, and that whenever it should come, article fifth left them no pretext for resistance. So they precipitated their revolution, and have only hastened that inevitable day.

But it is objected that the right to amend the Constitution does not give us the right to enlarge its powers. Why not? And if not, to what things does the right of amendment extend? Such an interpretation makes article fifth an absurdity. This objection springs from the same mischievous doctrine of State sovereignty, which has so outraged the patriotic common sense of the people by the denial of our right to 'coerce' a State, and tends to the same result—nullification and secession. It is good logic for a confederation, but bad logic for a nation, to say that the articles of its organic law may not be changed by the will of the people. And let us not neglect to observe in the provisions of article fifth the strong incidental proof that the Constitution of the United States was meant to be the basis of a nation, and not the compact of a confederation. For how may this article be reconciled with the theory of a compact? Three fourths of the States may concur in adopting an amendment that shall be valid as part of the Constitution, which declares itself to be the supreme law of the land, over all the States.

This incidental point serves fitly to introduce the second branch of our discussion, namely:

II. THE EXPEDIENCY AND NECESSITY OF THE PROPOSED AMENDMENT

For slavery, or, in other words (lest we seem to offend some), a rebellion in the interests and for the avowed establishment of slavery, has struck at the life of the nation; and in self-defence the nation must strike down slavery. If our Government is only the compact of a confederation, then not only is there no need, but we have not the right to adopt the proposed amendment. For by it an institution fostered by the legislation of some of the States would be overthrown, in defiance of that legislation. But the right, or constitutional power, of itself implies the necessity to adopt the amendment whenever the occasion for it may arise. The right is made part of the Constitution: the necessity, or expediency, must be determined by circumstances outside of the Constitution. We contend that circumstances at present point to the complete extinguishment of slavery as the political necessity of the period. The time for timid counsels is past. The day of tenderness for Southern prejudices is gone by.

Coming, then, directly to the root of the matter, we lay down this first proposition:

1. The proposed amendment finds its justification and highest warrant, as a measure of political reform, in the fact of the Southern Confederacy. This fact, pure and simple, is the controlling and abundant necessity for it. We need not take the ground that slavery is the cause of the rebellion: though to the philosophical inquirer it certainly seems difficult to reach any other conclusion. We Americans are so much under the influence of partisan prejudices, so surrounded with the complications of present and past political issues, that for us a dispassionate study of this point is almost, or quite, impossible. But the investigations of impartial and unprejudiced foreigners seem remarkably to concur in designating slavery as the moving cause of the war. We may cite, for example, the recent profound review of the slave power by Professor Cairnes. And surely no person who pauses to reflect upon the inherent nature of the slave system as a labor basis of society, will venture to deny that such a principle is at war with the elemental principles of our Government. No person will deny that slavery depreciates the dignity of labor, which is the pride and boast of our institutions. Nor does it need any but the logic of common sense to point out the incongruity of a free government resting, even partially, upon a basis of slave labor.

But all this may be waived. We may discard all these considerations. Perhaps it is wise to discard them. Let us forget our differences of political opinion in the past, and seek for points of agreement in the present. Taking this position, we cannot ignore the fact of the Southern Confederacy, and that the avowed basis of it is slavery. It is a stubborn fact confronting us at the outset of our inquiry, and, like Banquo's ghost, 'will not down.' Proclaiming boldly that free labor is a mistake, and unblushingly affirming as a doctrine of social and political economy that 'capital must own labor,' the Southern Confederacy challenges the Christian civilization of the age, and declares its right to exist as an independent nation of slaveholders. How may we explain so monstrous a pretence? There is but one explanation that is adequate. It may be stated in a single word, ambition. The lesson of our experience is that this malignant system of slavery, the chattel slavery of the South, is too great a temptation to the ambition of men. Let us not disregard it. Political ambition stands always ready to strike hands with the devil, and the devil is always near the conscience of ambitious men. We have no recourse but to remove the temptation. The death-knell of Carthage is well appropriated: Servitudo est delenda. So long as a vestige of the slavery establishment remains, the temptation remains—a deadly risk to our Government. The peril of it is too great. And this furnishes a complete answer to the superficial objection that there is no need of the amendment because slavery is dead already; for ambition may revive it, and what ambition may do it will do. In other words, and to sum up the argument on this point: Whatever may have been our individual opinions and beliefs before the rebellion (variant enough at all times), the attempted establishment of a confederacy avowedly based on slavery, proves beyond possibility of cavil that chattel slavery, to which we have been lenient without limit, is a temptation too great for the peace of the nation, and therefore the highest interests of the nation require its removal.

2. The simple fact of the Southern Confederacy is also the basis of our second proposition. For it reveals clearly the necessity of the proposed amendment as a thing essential to be added to the organic law, in order to carry out the purpose of it. That purpose is thus expressed in the preamble to the Constitution: 'We, the people of the United States, in order to form a more perfect Union, establish justice, insure domestic tranquillity, provide for the common defence, promote the general welfare, and secure the blessings of liberty to ourselves and our posterity, do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.' Every one of the objects therein specified is, in the baleful light of the rebellion, a plea for the amendment.

We are aware that this preamble has heretofore served as a basis for the stanchest conservatism, and wisely so. We are of those who have always contended that the 'blessings of liberty' are best secured by whatever tends most to strengthen the Union—the asylum and hope of liberty, without which liberty, disorganized and unprotected, were a vain show. We are of that opinion still, and therefore support the amendment, because we are for strengthening the Union and making it 'more perfect.' We have not changed: circumstances have changed. What was formerly conservatism is now radicalism, and radicalism is now the true conservatism. For the period is one of transition, a crisis period, when these two forces, to be of use, must be interfused, and thus become a combined power of reform.

So long as the cotton and slaveholding interest could be held in check and kept measurably subordinate to the supremacy of the Constitution, there was hope that eventually the steadily-increasing forces of free labor would overpower the gradually-decreasing forces of slave labor. It was believed that by the silent action of natural laws freedom would, in the long run, assert itself superior, and the ideal of our Government, universal freedom, would thus at last become a reality and fact. Such, we have been taught to believe, was the doctrine of the statesmanship of 1850. Such was the underlying argument of Webster's great 7th of March speech—the enduring monument of his unselfish patriotism, seeking only the good of his whole country. Such was his meaning when he declared that the condition of the territories was fixed by an 'irrepealable law,' needing no irritating legislation to assure their freedom.