impetuous charge; the steady and successful repulse; the loud call to repeated assault; the summoning of all that is manly to repeated resistance; a thousand bosoms freely and fearlessly bared in an instant to whatever of terror there may be in war and death,—all these you have witnessed, but you witness them no more. All is peace. The heights of yonder metropolis, its towers and roofs, which you then saw filled with wives and children and countrymen in distress and terror, and looking with unutterable emotions for the issue of the combat, have presented you to-day with the sight of its whole happy population, come out to welcome and greet you with a universal jubilee. Yonder proud ships, by a felicity of position appropriately lying at the foot of this mount, and seeming fondly to cling around it, are not means of annoyance to you, but your country's own means of distinction and defense. All is peace; and God has granted you this sight of your country's happiness, ere you slumber in the grave. He has allowed you to behold and to partake of the reward of your patriotic toils; and he has allowed us, your sons and countrymen, to meet you here, and in the name of the present generation, in the name of your country, in the name of liberty, to thank you! THE INDEPENDENCE OF THE JUDICIARY 39 THE INDEPENDENCE OF THE JUDICIARY JAMES A. BAYARD Abridged from a speech on the "Judiciary Act," delivered in the House of Representatives, February 19, 1802. The morals of your people, the peace of the country, and the stability of government rest upon the independence of the Judiciary. Am I asked, "Would you render the judges superior to the legislature?" I answer, "No; but coördinate." "Would you render them independent of the legislature?" I answer, "Yes; independent of every power on earth, while they behave themselves well." The essential interests, the permanent welfare of society, require this independence. You calculate on the weaknesses of human nature and you suffer the judge to be dependent on no one, lest he should be partial to those on whom he depends. Justice does not exist where partiality prevails. A dependent judge cannot be impartial. · Independence is therefore essential to the purity of your judiciary tribunals. No power is so sensibly felt by society as that of the Judiciary. The life and property of every man is liable to be in the hands of the judges. Is it not to our interest to place our judges upon such high ground that no fear can intimidate, no hope seduce them? The present measure humbles them in the dust. It prostrates them at the feet of faction. It renders them the tools of every dominant party. It is this effect which I deprecate; it is this consequence which I deeply deplore. The question is, Shall the Judiciary be permanent, or fluctuate with the tide of public opinion? I beg, I implore you to consider the magnitude and value of the principle you are about to annihilate. If your judges are independent of political changes, they may have their preferences, but they will not enter into the spirit of party. But let their existence depend upon the power of a certain set of men, and they cannot be impartial. Justice will be trodden under foot. Subject your bench to the influence of this spirit, and justice bids a final adieu to your tribunals. THE EMBARGO JOSIAH QUINCY From a speech on the Embargo Resolution, delivered in the national House of Representatives, November 28, 1808. The Embargo was a measure of retaliation against Great Britain, which preceded the War of 1812. I ask in what page of the Constitution you find the power of laying an embargo. Directly given, it is nowhere. Never before did society witness a total prohibition of all intercourse like this, in a commercial nation. But it has been asked in debate, "Will not Massachusetts, the cradle of liberty, submit to such privations?" An embargo liberty was never cradled in Massachusetts. Our liberty was not so much a mountain nymph as a sea nymph. She was free as air. She could swim or she could run. The ocean was her cradle. But an embargo liberty, a handcuffed liberty, liberty in fetters, a liberty traversing between the four sides of a prison and beating her head against the walls, is none of our offspring. We abjure the monster! Its parentage is all inland. Is embargo independence? Deceive not yourselves! It is palpable submission! Gentlemen exclaim, "Great Britain smites us on one cheek!" And what does administration? "It turns the other also." Gentlemen say, "Great Britain is a robber; she takes our cloak.' And what says administration? "Let her take our coat also." France and Great Britain require you to relinquish a part of your commerce, and you yield it entirely! At every corner of this great city we meet some gentlemen of the majority wringing their hands, and exclaiming: What shall we do? Nothing but an embargo will save us. Remove it, and what shall we do?" แ It is not for me, a humble and uninfluential individual, at an awful distance from the predominant influences, to suggest plans of government. But, to my eye, the path of our duty is as distinct as the Milky Way; all studded with living sapphires, glowing with cumulating light. It is the path of active preparation, of dignified energy. It is the path of 1776! It consists not in abandoning our rights, but in supporting them, as they exist, and where they exist; on the ocean, as well as on the land. But I shall be told, "This may lead to war." I ask, "Are we now at peace?" Certainly not, unless retiring from insult be peace; unless shrinking under the lash be peace. The surest way to prevent war is not to fear it. The idea that nothing on earth is so dreadful as war is inculcated too studiously among us. Disgrace is worse! Abandonment of essential rights is worse! DEFENSE OF HOFER, THE TYROLESE ANDREAS HOFER Andreas Hofer, an innkeeper of the Tyrol, headed a successful insurrection against the French in 1809. His enemies succeeded in capturing him by treachery, and he was shot by order of Napoleon at Mantua, Italy. He is said to have delivered the following speech just before his execution, February 20, 1810. You ask what I have to say in my defense,-you, who glory in the name of France, who wander through the world to enrich and exalt the land of your birth,— you demand how I could dare to arm myself against the invaders of my native rocks? Do you confine the love of home to yourselves? Do you punish in others the actions which you dignify and reward among yourselves? Those stars which glitter on your breasts, do they hang there as a recompense for patient servitude? I see the smile of contempt which curls your lips. You say This brute, he is a ruffian, a beggar! That patched jacket, that ragged cap, that rusty belt: -shall barbarians such as he close the pass against us, shower rocks on our heads, and single out our leaders with unfailing aim,-these groveling mountaineers, |