The Writings of Abraham Lincoln, Complete

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Now all this is manifestly unfair; yet I do not mention it to complain of
it, in so far as it is already settled. It is in the Constitution, and I
do not for that cause, or any other cause, propose to destroy, or alter,
or disregard the Constitution. I stand to it, fairly, fully, and firmly.

But when I am told I must leave it altogether to other people to say
whether new partners are to be bred up and brought into the firm, on the
same degrading terms against me, I respectfully demur. I insist that
whether I shall be a whole man or only the half of one, in comparison
with others is a question in which I am somewhat concerned, and one which
no other man can have a sacred right of deciding for me. If I am wrong in
this, if it really be a sacred right of self-government in the man who
shall go to Nebraska to decide whether he will be the equal of me or the
double of me, then, after he shall have exercised that right, and thereby
shall have reduced me to a still smaller fraction of a man than I already
am, I should like for some gentleman, deeply skilled in the mysteries of
sacred rights, to provide himself with a microscope, and peep about, and
find out, if he can, what has become of my sacred rights. They will
surely be too small for detection with the naked eye.

Finally, I insist that if there is anything which it is the duty of the
whole people to never intrust to any hands but their own, that thing is
the preservation and perpetuity of their own liberties and institutions.
And if they shall think as I do, that the extension of slavery endangers
them more than any or all other causes, how recreant to themselves if
they submit The question, and with it the fate of their country, to a
mere handful of men bent only on seif-interest. If this question of
slavery extension were an insignificant one, one having no power to do
harm--it might be shuffled aside in this way; and being, as it is, the
great Behemoth of danger, shall the strong grip of the nation be loosened
upon him, to intrust him to the hands of such feeble keepers?

I have done with this mighty argument of self-government. Go, sacred
thing! Go in peace.

But Nebraska is urged as a great Union-saving measure. Well, I too go for
saving the Union. Much as I hate slavery, I would consent to the
extension of it rather than see the Union dissolved, just as I would
consent to any great evil to avoid a greater one. But when I go to
Union-saving, I must believe, at least, that the means I employ have some
adaptation to the end. To my mind, Nebraska has no such adaptation.

"It hath no relish of salvation in it."

It is an aggravation, rather, of the only one thing which ever endangers
the Union. When it came upon us, all was peace and quiet. The nation was
looking to the forming of new bends of union, and a long course of peace
and prosperity seemed to lie before us. In the whole range of
possibility, there scarcely appears to me to have been anything out of
which the slavery agitation could have been revived, except the very
project of repealing the Missouri Compromise. Every inch of territory we
owned already had a definite settlement of the slavery question, by which
all parties were pledged to abide. Indeed, there was no uninhabited
country on the continent which we could acquire, if we except some
extreme northern regions which are wholly out of the question.

In this state of affairs the Genius of Discord himself could scarcely
have invented a way of again setting us by the ears but by turning back
and destroying the peace measures of the past. The counsels of that
Genius seem to have prevailed. The Missouri Compromise was repealed; and
here we are in the midst of a new slavery agitation, such, I think, as we
have never seen before. Who is responsible for this? Is it those who
resist the measure, or those who causelessly brought it forward, and
pressed it through, having reason to know, and in fact knowing, it must
and would be so resisted? It could not but be expected by its author that
it would be looked upon as a measure for the extension of slavery,
aggravated by a gross breach of faith.

Argue as you will and long as you will, this is the naked front and
aspect of the measure. And in this aspect it could not but produce
agitation. Slavery is founded in the selfishness of man's
nature--opposition to it in his love of justice. These principles are at
eternal antagonism, and when brought into collision so fiercely as
slavery extension brings them, shocks and throes and convulsions must
ceaselessly follow. Repeal the Missouri Compromise, repeal all
compromises, repeal the Declaration of Independence, repeal all past
history, you still cannot repeal human nature. It still will be the
abundance of man's heart that slavery extension is wrong, and out of the
abundance of his heart his mouth will continue to speak.

The structure, too, of the Nebraska Bill is very peculiar. The people are
to decide the question of slavery for themselves; but when they are to
decide, or how they are to decide, or whether, when the question is once
decided, it is to remain so or is to be subject to an indefinite
succession of new trials, the law does not say. Is it to be decided by
the first dozen settlers who arrive there, or is it to await the arrival
of a hundred? Is it to be decided by a vote of the people or a vote of
the Legislature, or, indeed, by a vote of any sort? To these questions
the law gives no answer. There is a mystery about this; for when a member
proposed to give the Legislature express authority to exclude slavery, it
was hooted down by the friends of the bill. This fact is worth
remembering. Some Yankees in the East are sending emigrants to Nebraska
to exclude slavery from it; and, so far as I can judge, they expect the
question to be decided by voting in some way or other. But the
Missourians are awake, too. They are within a stone's-throw of the
contested ground. They hold meetings and pass resolutions, in which not
the slightest allusion to voting is made. They resolve that slavery
already exists in the Territory; that more shall go there; that they,
remaining in Missouri, will protect it, and that abolitionists shall be
hung or driven away. Through all this bowie knives and six-shooters are
seen plainly enough, but never a glimpse of the ballot-box.

And, really, what is the result of all this? Each party within having
numerous and determined backers without, is it not probable that the
contest will come to blows and bloodshed? Could there be a more apt
invention to bring about collision and violence on the slavery question
than this Nebraska project is? I do not charge or believe that such was
intended by Congress; but if they had literally formed a ring and placed
champions within it to fight out the controversy, the fight could be no
more likely to come off than it is. And if this fight should begin, is it
likely to take a very peaceful, Union-saving turn? Will not the first
drop of blood so shed be the real knell of the Union?

The Missouri Compromise ought to be restored. For the sake of the Union,
it ought to be restored. We ought to elect a House of Representatives
which will vote its restoration. If by any means we omit to do this, what
follows? Slavery may or may not be established in Nebraska. But whether
it be or not, we shall have repudiated--discarded from the councils of
the nation--the spirit of compromise; for who, after this, will ever
trust in a national compromise? The spirit of mutual concession--that
spirit which first gave us the Constitution, and which has thrice saved
the Union--we shall have strangled and cast from us forever. And what
shall we have in lieu of it? The South flushed with triumph and tempted
to excess; the North, betrayed as they believe, brooding on wrong and
burning for revenge. One side will provoke, the other resent. The one
will taunt, the other defy; one aggresses, the other retaliates. Already
a few in the North defy all constitutional restraints, resist the
execution of the Fugitive Slave law, and even menace the institution of
slavery in the States where it exists. Already a few in the South claim
the constitutional right to take and to hold slaves in the free States,
demand the revival of the slave trade, and demand a treaty with Great
Britain by which fugitive slaves may be reclaimed from Canada. As yet
they are but few on either side. It is a grave question for lovers of the
union whether the final destruction of the Missouri Compromise, and with
it the spirit of all compromise, will or will not embolden and embitter
each of these, and fatally increase the number of both.

But restore the compromise, and what then? We thereby restore the
national faith, the national confidence, the national feeling of
brotherhood. We thereby reinstate the spirit of concession and
compromise, that spirit which has never failed us in past perils, and
which may be safely trusted for all the future. The South ought to join
in doing this. The peace of the nation is as dear to them as to us. In
memories of the past and hopes of the future, they share as largely as
we. It would be on their part a great act--great in its spirit, and great
in its effect. It would be worth to the nation a hundred years purchase
of peace and prosperity. And what of sacrifice would they make? They only
surrender to us what they gave us for a consideration long, long ago;
what they have not now asked for, struggled or cared for; what has been
thrust upon them, not less to their astonishment than to ours.

But it is said we cannot restore it; that though we elect every member of
the lower House, the Senate is still against us. It is quite true that of
the senators who passed the Nebraska Bill a majority of the whole Senate
will retain their seats in spite of the elections of this and the next
year. But if at these elections their several constituencies shall
clearly express their will against Nebraska, will these senators
disregard their will? Will they neither obey nor make room for those who
will?

But even if we fail to technically restore the compromise, it is still a
great point to carry a popular vote in favor of the restoration. The
moral weight of such a vote cannot be estimated too highly. The authors
of Nebraska are not at all satisfied with the destruction of the
compromise--an indorsement of this principle they proclaim to be the
great object. With them, Nebraska alone is a small matter--to establish a
principle for future use is what they particularly desire.

The future use is to be the planting of slavery wherever in the wide
world local and unorganized opposition cannot prevent it. Now, if you
wish to give them this indorsement, if you wish to establish this
principle, do so. I shall regret it, but it is your right. On the
contrary, if you are opposed to the principle,--intend to give it no such
indorsement, let no wheedling, no sophistry, divert you from throwing a
direct vote against it.

Some men, mostly Whigs, who condemn the repeal of the Missouri
Compromise, nevertheless hesitate to go for its restoration, lest they be
thrown in company with the abolitionists. Will they allow me, as an old
Whig, to tell them, good-humoredly, that I think this is very silly?
Stand with anybody that stands right. Stand with him while he is right,
and part with him when he goes wrong. Stand with the abolitionist in
restoring the Missouri Compromise, and stand against him when he attempts
to repeal the Fugitive Slave law. In the latter case you stand with the
Southern disunionist. What of that? You are still right. In both cases
you are right. In both cases you oppose the dangerous extremes. In both
you stand on middle ground, and hold the ship level and steady. In both
you are national, and nothing less than national. This is the good old
Whig ground. To desert such ground because of any company is to be less
than a Whig--less than a man--less than an American.

I particularly object to the new position which the avowed principle of
this Nebraska law gives to slavery in the body politic. I object to it
because it assumes that there can be moral right in the enslaving of one
man by another. I object to it as a dangerous dalliance for a free
people--a sad evidence that, feeling prosperity, we forget right; that
liberty, as a principle, we have ceased to revere. I object to it because
the fathers of the republic eschewed and rejected it. The argument of
"necessity" was the only argument they ever admitted in favor of slavery;
and so far, and so far only, as it carried them did they ever go. They
found the institution existing among us, which they could not help, and
they cast blame upon the British king for having permitted its
introduction.

The royally appointed Governor of Georgia in the early 1700's was
threatened by the King with removal if he continued to oppose slavery in
his colony--at that time the King of England made a small profit on every
slave imported to the colonies. The later British criticism of the United
States for not eradicating slavery in the early 1800's, combined with
their tacit support of the 'Confederacy' during the Civil War is a prime
example of the irony and hypocrisy of politics: that self-interest will
ever overpower right.

Before the Constitution they prohibited its introduction into the
Northwestern Territory, the only country we owned then free from it. At
the framing and adoption of the Constitution, they forbore to so much as
mention the word "slave" or "slavery" in the whole instrument. In the
provision for the recovery of fugitives, the slave is spoken of as a
"person held to service or labor." In that prohibiting the abolition of
the African slave trade for twenty years, that trade is spoken of as "the
migration or importation of such persons as any of the States now
existing shall think proper to admit," etc. These are the only provisions
alluding to slavery. Thus the thing is hid away in the Constitution, just
as an afflicted man hides away a wen or cancer which he dares not cut out
at once, lest he bleed to death,--with the promise, nevertheless, that
the cutting may begin at a certain time. Less than this our fathers could
not do, and more they would not do. Necessity drove them so far, and
farther they would not go. But this is not all. The earliest Congress
under the Constitution took the same view of slavery. They hedged and
hemmed it in to the narrowest limits of necessity.

In 1794 they prohibited an outgoing slave trade--that is, the taking of
slaves from the United States to sell. In 1798 they prohibited the
bringing of slaves from Africa into the Mississippi Territory, this
Territory then comprising what are now the States of Mississippi and
Alabama. This was ten years before they had the authority to do the same
thing as to the States existing at the adoption of the Constitution. In
1800 they prohibited American citizens from trading in slaves between
foreign countries, as, for instance, from Africa to Brazil. In 1803 they
passed a law in aid of one or two slave-State laws in restraint of the
internal slave trade. In 1807, in apparent hot haste, they passed the
law, nearly a year in advance,--to take effect the first day of 1808, the
very first day the Constitution would permit, prohibiting the African
slave trade by heavy pecuniary and corporal penalties. In 1820, finding
these provisions ineffectual, they declared the slave trade piracy, and
annexed to it the extreme penalty of death. While all this was passing in
the General Government, five or six of the original slave States had
adopted systems of gradual emancipation, by which the institution was
rapidly becoming extinct within their limits. Thus we see that the plain,
unmistakable spirit of that age toward slavery was hostility to the
principle and toleration only by necessity.

But now it is to be transformed into a "sacred right." Nebraska brings it
forth, places it on the highroad to extension and perpetuity, and with a
pat on its back says to it, "Go, and God speed you." Henceforth it is to
be the chief jewel of the nation the very figure-head of the ship of
state. Little by little, but steadily as man's march to the grave, we
have been giving up the old for the new faith. Near eighty years ago we
began by declaring that all men are created equal; but now from that
beginning we have run down to the other declaration, that for some men to
enslave others is a "sacred right of self-government." These principles
cannot stand together. They are as opposite as God and Mammon; and who
ever holds to the one must despise the other. When Pettit, in connection
with his support of the Nebraska Bill, called the Declaration of
Independence "a self-evident lie," he only did what consistency and
candor require all other Nebraska men to do. Of the forty-odd Nebraska
senators who sat present and heard him, no one rebuked him. Nor am I
apprised that any Nebraska newspaper, or any Nebraska orator, in the
whole nation has ever yet rebuked him. If this had been said among
Marion's men, Southerners though they were, what would have become of the
man who said it? If this had been said to the men who captured Andre, the
man who said it would probably have been hung sooner than Andre was. If
it had been said in old Independence Hall seventy-eight years ago, the
very doorkeeper would have throttled the man and thrust him into the
street. Let no one be deceived. The spirit of seventy-six and the spirit
of Nebraska are utter antagonisms; and the former is being rapidly
displaced by the latter.

Fellow-countrymen, Americans, South as well as North, shall we make no
effort to arrest this? Already the liberal party throughout the world
express the apprehension that "the one retrograde institution in America
is undermining the principles of progress, and fatally violating the
noblest political system the world ever saw." This is not the taunt of
enemies, but the warning of friends. Is it quite safe to disregard it--to
despise it? Is there no danger to liberty itself in discarding the
earliest practice and first precept of our ancient faith? In our greedy
chase to make profit of the negro, let us beware lest we "cancel and tear
in pieces" even the white man's charter of freedom.

Our republican robe is soiled and trailed in the dust. Let us repurify
it. Let us turn and wash it white in the spirit, if not the blood, of the
Revolution. Let us turn slavery from its claims of "moral right," back
upon its existing legal rights and its arguments of "necessity." Let us
return it to the position our fathers gave it, and there let it rest in
peace. Let us readopt the Declaration of Independence, and with it the
practices and policy which harmonize with it. Let North and South, let
all Americans--let all lovers of liberty everywhere join in the great and
good work. If we do this, we shall not only have saved the Union, but we
shall have so saved it as to make and to keep it forever worthy of the
saving. We shall have so saved it that the succeeding millions of free
happy people the world over shall rise up and call us blessed to the
latest generations.

At Springfield, twelve days ago, where I had spoken substantially as I
have here, Judge Douglas replied to me; and as he is to reply to me here,
I shall attempt to anticipate him by noticing some of the points he made
there. He commenced by stating I had assumed all the way through that the
principle of the Nebraska Bill would have the effect of extending
slavery. He denied that this was intended or that this effect would
follow.

I will not reopen the argument upon this point. That such was the
intention the world believed at the start, and will continue to believe.
This was the countenance of the thing, and both friends and enemies
instantly recognized it as such. That countenance cannot now be changed
by argument. You can as easily argue the color out of the negro's skin.
Like the "bloody hand," you may wash it and wash it, the red witness of
guilt still sticks and stares horribly at you.

Next he says that Congressional intervention never prevented slavery
anywhere; that it did not prevent it in the Northwestern Territory, nor
in Illinois; that, in fact, Illinois came into the Union as a slave
State; that the principle of the Nebraska Bill expelled it from Illinois,
from several old States, from everywhere.

Now this is mere quibbling all the way through. If the Ordinance of '87
did not keep slavery out of the Northwest Territory, how happens it that
the northwest shore of the Ohio River is entirely free from it, while the
southeast shore, less than a mile distant, along nearly the whole length
of the river, is entirely covered with it?

If that ordinance did not keep it out of Illinois, what was it that made
the difference between Illinois and Missouri? They lie side by side, the
Mississippi River only dividing them, while their early settlements were
within the same latitude. Between 1810 and 1820 the number of slaves in
Missouri increased 7211, while in Illinois in the same ten years they
decreased 51. This appears by the census returns. During nearly all of
that ten years both were Territories, not States. During this time the
ordinance forbade slavery to go into Illinois, and nothing forbade it to
go into Missouri. It did go into Missouri, and did not go into Illinois.
That is the fact. Can any one doubt as to the reason of it? But he says
Illinois came into the Union as a slave State. Silence, perhaps, would be
the best answer to this flat contradiction of the known history of the
country. What are the facts upon which this bold assertion is based? When
we first acquired the country, as far back as 1787, there were some
slaves within it held by the French inhabitants of Kaskaskia. The
territorial legislation admitted a few negroes from the slave States as
indentured servants. One year after the adoption of the first State
constitution, the whole number of them was--what do you think? Just one
hundred and seventeen, while the aggregate free population was
55,094,--about four hundred and seventy to one. Upon this state of facts
the people framed their constitution prohibiting the further introduction
of slavery, with a sort of guaranty to the owners of the few indentured
servants, giving freedom to their children to be born thereafter, and
making no mention whatever of any supposed slave for life. Out of this
small matter the Judge manufactures his argument that Illinois came into
the Union as a slave State. Let the facts be the answer to the argument.

The principles of the Nebraska Bill, he says, expelled slavery from
Illinois. The principle of that bill first planted it here--that is, it
first came because there was no law to prevent it, first came before we
owned the country; and finding it here, and having the Ordinance of '87
to prevent its increasing, our people struggled along, and finally got
rid of it as best they could.

But the principle of the Nebraska Bill abolished slavery in several of
the old States. Well, it is true that several of the old States, in the
last quarter of the last century, did adopt systems of gradual
emancipation by which the institution has finally become extinct within
their limits; but it may or may not be true that the principle of the
Nebraska Bill was the cause that led to the adoption of these measures.
It is now more than fifty years since the last of these States adopted
its system of emancipation.

If the Nebraska Bill is the real author of the benevolent works, it is
rather deplorable that it has for so long a time ceased working
altogether. Is there not some reason to suspect that it was the principle
of the Revolution, and not the principle of the Nebraska Bill, that led
to emancipation in these old States? Leave it to the people of these old
emancipating States, and I am quite certain they will decide that neither
that nor any other good thing ever did or ever will come of the Nebraska
Bill.

In the course of my main argument, Judge Douglas interrupted me to say
that the principle of the Nebraska Bill was very old; that it originated
when God made man, and placed good and evil before him, allowing him to
choose for himself, being responsible for the choice he should make. At
the time I thought this was merely playful, and I answered it
accordingly. But in his reply to me he renewed it as a serious argument.
In seriousness, then, the facts of this proposition are not true as
stated. God did not place good and evil before man, telling him to make
his choice. On the contrary, he did tell him there was one tree of the
fruit of which he should not eat, upon pain of certain death. I should
scarcely wish so strong a prohibition against slavery in Nebraska.

But this argument strikes me as not a little remarkable in another
particular--in its strong resemblance to the old argument for the "divine
right of kings." By the latter, the king is to do just as he pleases with
his white subjects, being responsible to God alone. By the former, the
white man is to do just as he pleases with his black slaves, being
responsible to God alone. The two things are precisely alike, and it is
but natural that they should find similar arguments to sustain them.