Adventure | Science Fiction | Ghost stories | Poetry | Children | History BookStates._[19])
The chief end of all States, or the "_Esprit des Lois_," as
Montesquieu maintains, should be the security to each member of the
community of all "those absolute rights which are vested in them by
the immutable laws of nature."
Many writers maintain that the individuals upon entering into
society, give up or surrender a portion of their natural rights. This
seems to be a manifest error. No person has any natural right whatever
to hurt or injure another. The object of society and government is to
prevent and redress injuries of this sort; for, in a state of nature,
without a restraining power of government, the strong would viciously
impose upon the weak.
Another erroneous dogma pretty generally taught is, that the object of
governments should be to confer the greatest benefit upon the greatest
number of its constituent members. The true doctrine is, the object
should be to confer the greatest possible good upon every member,
without any detriment or injury to a single one.
SKETCH IN THE SENATE, FEB. 5, 1850.
(_From Johnston and Browne's Life of Stephens._[20])
[Illustration: ~University of Alabama.~]
Millard Fillmore, occupying the conspicuous seat erected for the
second officer of the Government. . . . His countenance is open and
bland, his chest full. His eye is bright, blue, and intelligent; his
hair thick and slightly gray. His personal appearance is striking; and
no one can look at him without feeling conscious that he is a man far
above the average. On his right, near the aisle leading to the front
door, sits Cass with hands folded in his lap . . . .; his
sleepy-looking eyes occasionally glancing at the galleries, and then
at the crowd pressing in below. Benton sits in his well-known place,
leaning back in his chair, and giving all who desire it a full view of
his person. One vacant seat is seen not far off on the same side of
the House. A vacant seat in such a crowd excites the attention of all.
"Whose seat is that?" goes in whispers around. "It's Calhoun's--not
well enough to be out yet."--"Who is that sitting by Cass?" says
one.--"That is Buchanan,--come all the way from home to hear
Clay."--"What thin-visaged man is that standing over yonder and
constantly moving?"-- . . . "That is Ritchie of the _Union_."--"Who is
that walking down the aisle with that uncouth coat and all that hair
about his chin? Did you ever see such a swaggerer? _He_ can't be a
Senator."--"That is Sam Houston."--"But where is Webster? I don't see
him."--"He is in the Supreme Court, where he has a case to argue
to-day."--See Corwin, and Badger, and Berrien, and Dawson, all near
Clay; all of them quiet while Clay pursues his writing. On the
opposite side, Butler, and Foote, and Clemens, and Douglas.
After the carriage of the motion of Mr. Mangum to proceed to the
consideration of the order of the day, Mr. Clay folds his papers and
puts them in his desk, and after the business is announced, rises
gracefully and majestically. Instantaneously there is general
applause, which Mr. Clay seems not to notice. The noise within is
heard without, and the great crowd raised such a shout that Mr. Clay
had to pause until the officers went out and cleared all the
entrances, and then he began. He spoke on that day two hours and
fifteen minutes. The speech was reported in the _Globe_ word for word
as he uttered it. I never saw such a report before. His voice was
good, his enunciation clear and distinct, his action firm, his
strength far surpassing my expectation. He had the riveted gaze of the
multitude the whole time. When he concluded, an immense throng of
friends, both men and women came up to congratulate and to _kiss_ him.
_March 31st._--The Angel of Death has just passed by, and his shadow
is seen lingering upon the startled countenances of all. A great man
has just fallen,--Calhoun! His race is ended. His restless and fiery
spirit sleeps in that deep and long repose which awaits all the
living. He died this morning about seven o'clock. Peace to his ashes!
His name will long be remembered in the history of this country. He
has closed his career at a most eventful period of that history, and
perhaps it is most fortunate for his fame that he died just at this
time.
TRUE COURAGE.
(_From a Speech, 1855._)
I am afraid of nothing on earth, or above the earth, or under the
earth, but to do wrong. The path of duty I shall endeavor to travel,
fearing no evil, and dreading no consequences. I would rather be
defeated in a good cause than to triumph in a bad one. I would not
give a fig for a man who would shrink from the discharge of duty for
fear of defeat.
FOOTNOTES:
[19] By permission of the National Publishing Co., Philadelphia.
[20] By permission of authors, and publishers, J. B. Lippincott Co.,
Philadelphia.
ALEXANDER BEAUFORT MEEK.
~1814=1865.~
ALEXANDER BEAUFORT MEEK was born at Columbia, South Carolina, was
educated at the University of Alabama, and began life as a lawyer and
editor in Tuscaloosa, then capital of Alabama. He was a lieutenant in
the Seminole War. He was a judge, a member of the State Legislature
and Speaker of the House, and father of the public school system of
the state. His later years were devoted to literary pursuits and he
stands high as an orator, poet, and historian.
WORKS.
Red Eagle, [a poem].
Romantic Passages in South-Western History.
History of Alabama, [unfinished].
Songs and Poems of the South.
Pilgrims of Mt. Vernon, [unfinished poem].
The story of the Indian Chief, Red Eagle, or Weatherford, is one of
the most interesting traditions of our country. Judge Meek's writings
teem with the romantic and marvellous incidents of the early history
of Alabama, such as De Soto's march to the Mississippi, the Battle of
Mauville and defeat of the great Indian King, Tuscaloosa, or Black
Warrior, the Canoe-Fight of Dale, or Sam Thlucco, as the Indians
called him ("Big Sam"), and the attack on Fort Mims.
RED EAGLE, OR WEATHERFORD.
(_From Romantic Passages in South-Western History._)
The battle of Tohopeka put an end to the hopes of Weatherford. This
village was situated on a peninsula, within the "horse-shoe bend" of
the Tallapoosa. Here twelve hundred warriors . . . had fortified
themselves for a desperate struggle, assured by their prophets that
the Master of Breath would now interpose in their favor. Across the
neck of land, three hundred and fifty yards wide, that leads into the
peninsula, they had constructed powerful breastworks of hewn logs,
eight or ten feet high, and pierced with double rows of port-holes,
from which they could fire with perfect security. The selection of
this spot and the character of its defence did great credit to the
military genius of Weatherford,--and his eloquence, more than usually
persuasive and inspiriting, filled his devoted followers with a
courage strangely compounded of fanaticism and despair.
At an early hour in the morning, General Coffee's command having
crossed the river and encircled the bend so as to |