discouraged, but undaunted, then changed their mode of attack.  They said, “We will waive the moral question, for we talk to men without conscience, and we will instead make it a political one.  We will appeal to majorities.  We will attack the hostile forces in a citadel which they cannot hold.  The District of Columbia belongs to Congress.  Congress can abolish slavery if it chooses in its own territory.  Having possession of this great fortress, we can extend our political warfare to the vast and indefinite West, and, at least, prevent the further extension of slave-power.  We will trust to time and circumstance and truth to do the rest.  We will petition Congress itself.”

And from 1835 onward petitions rolled into both Houses from all parts of the North and West to abolish slavery in the District of Columbia, which Congress could constitutionally do.  The venerable and enlightened John Quincy Adams headed the group of petitioners in the House of representatives.  There were now two thousand antislavery societies in the United States.  In 1837 three hundred thousand persons petitioned for the abolition of slavery in the District of Columbia.  The legislatures of Massachusetts and Vermont had gone so far as to censure Congress for its inaction and indifference to the rights of humanity.

But it was in January, 1836, that John C. Calhoun arose in his wrath and denied the right of petition.  The indignant North responded to such an assumption in flaming words.  “What,” said the leaders of public opinion, “cannot the lowest subjects of the Czar or the Shah appeal to ultimate authority?  Has there ever been an empire so despotic as to deny so obvious a right?  Did not Caesar and Cyrus, Louis and Napoleon receive petitions?  Shall an enlightened Congress reject the prayers of the most powerful of their constituents, and to remove an evil which people generally regard as an outrage, and all people as a misfortune?”

“We will not allow the reception of petitions at all,” said the Southern leaders, “for they will lead to discussion on a forbidden subject.  They are only an entrance wedge to disrupt the Union.  The Constitution has guaranteed to us exclusively the preservation of an institution on which our welfare rests.  You usurp a privilege which you call a right.  Your demands are dangerous to the peace of the Union, and are preposterous.  You violate unwritten law.  You seek to do what the founders of our republic never dreamed of.  When two of the States ceded their own slave territory to the central government, it was with the understanding that slavery should remain as it was in the district we owned and controlled.  You cannot lawfully even discuss the matter.  It is none of your concern.  It is an institution which was the basis of that great compromise without which there never could have been a united nation,—­only a league of sovereign States.  We have the same right to exclude the discussion of this question from these halls as from