better, a rope of sand, aye, the flimsiest gossamer that ever
glistened in the morning dew, than chains of iron and shackles of
steel; better the wildest anarchy, with the hope, the chance, of one
hour's inspiration of the glorious breath of freedom, than ages of
the hopeless bondage and oppression to which our enemies would
reduce us.

We are told that the laws must be enforced; that the revenues must
be collected; that the South is in rebellion without cause, and that
her citizens are traitors.

Rebellion! the very word is a confession; an avowal of tyranny,
outrage, and oppression. It is taken from the despot's code, and
has no terror for others than slavish souls. When, sir, did
millions of people, as a single man, rise in organized, deliberate,
unimpassioned rebellion against justice, truth, and honor? Well did
a great Englishman exclaim on a similar occasion:--

"You might as well tell me that they rebelled against the light of
heaven, that they rejected the fruits of the earth. Men do not war
against their benefactors; they are not mad enough to repel the
instincts of self-preservation. I pronounce fearlessly that no
intelligent people ever rose, or ever will rise, against a sincere,
rational, and benevolent authority. No people were ever born
blind. Infatuation is not a law of human nature. When there is a
revolt by a free people, with the common consent of all classes of
society, there must be a criminal against whom that revolt is
aimed."

Traitors! Treason! Ay, sir, the people of the South imitate and
glory in just such treason as glowed in the soul of Hampden; just
such treason as leaped in living flame from the impassioned lips of
Henry; just such treason as encircles with a sacred halo the undying
name of Washington.

You will enforce the laws. You want to know if we have a government;
if you have any authority to collect revenue; to wring tribute from
an unwilling people? Sir, humanity desponds, and all the inspiring
hopes of her progressive improvement vanish into empty air at the
reflections which crowd on the mind at hearing repeated, with
aggravated enormity, the sentiments against which a Chatham launched
his indignant thunders nearly a century ago. The very words of Lord
North and his royal master are repeated here in debate, not as
quotations, but as the spontaneous outpourings of a spirit the
counterpart of theirs.

In Lord North's speech on the destruction of the tea in Bos