awe as the palladium of our liberties, and with all
the solemnities of religion have pledged to each other
our lives and fortunes here and our hopes of happiness
hereafter in its defense and support. Were we
mistaken, my countrymen, in attaching this importance
to the Constitution of our country? Was our devotion
paid to the wretched, inefficient, clumsy contrivance
which this new doctrine would make it? Did we
pledge ourselves to the support of an airy nothing—a
bubble that must be blown away by the first breath
of disaffection? Was this self-destroying, visionary
theory the work of the profound statesmen, the exalted
patriots, to whom the task of constitutional reform
was intrusted? Did the name of Washington sanction,
did the States deliberately ratify, such an anomaly
in the history of fundamental legislation? No;
we were not mistaken. The letter of this great
instrument is free from this radical fault. Its
language directly contradicts the imputation; its
spirit, its evident intent, contradicts it. No;
we did not err. Our Constitution does not contain
the absurdity of giving power to make laws and another
to resist them. The sages whose memory will always
be reverenced have given us a practical and, as they
hoped, a permanent constitutional compact. The
Father of his Country did not affix his revered name
to so palpable an absurdity. Nor did the States,
when they severally ratified it, do so under the impression
that a veto on the laws of the United States was reserved
to them or that they could exercise it by implication.
Search the debates in all their conventions, examine
the speeches of the most zealous opposers of Federal
authority, look at the amendments that were proposed;
they are all silent—not a syllable uttered,
not a vote given, not a motion made to correct the
explicit supremacy given to the laws of the Union over
those of the States, or to show that implication, as
is now contended, could defeat it. No; we have
not erred. The Constitution is still the object
of our reverence, the bond of our Union, our defense
in danger, the source of our prosperity in peace.
It shall descend, as we have received it, uncorrupted
by sophistical construction, to our posterity; and
the sacrifices of local interest, of State prejudices,
of personal animosities, that were made to bring it
into existence, will again be patriotically offered
for its support.
The two remaining objections made by the ordinance to these laws are that the sums intended to be raised by them are greater than are required and that the proceeds will be unconstitutionally employed.
The Constitution has given, expressly, to Congress the right of raising revenue and of determining the sum the public exigencies will require. The States have no control over the exercise of this right other than that which results from the power of changing the representatives who abuse it, and thus procure redress. Congress may undoubtedly abuse this discretionary power; but the same may be said of others