of that Republic, which although it has suddenly sprung up, yet there are none on the globe who have ears to hear, and have not heard of it,—­who have eyes to see and have not read of it,—­who know any thing,—­and yet do not know of its existence and its glory?  And, gentlemen, let me now reverse the picture.  Let me ask, who is there among us, if he were to be found to-morrow in one of the civilized countries of Europe, and were there to learn that this goodly form of Government had been overthrown—­that the United States were no longer united—­that a death-blow had been struck upon their bond of Union—­that they themselves had destroyed their chief good and their chief honor,—­who is there, whose heart would not sink within him?  Who is there, who would not cover his face for very shame?

At this very moment, gentlemen, our country is a general refuge for the distressed and the persecuted of other nations.  Whoever is in affliction from political occurrences in his own country, looks here for shelter.  Whether he be republican, flying from the oppression of thrones—­or whether he be monarch or monarchist, flying from thrones that crumble and fall under or around him,—­he feels equal assurance, that if he get foothold on our soil, his person is safe, and his rights will be respected.

And who will venture to say, that in any government now existing in the world, there is greater security for persons or property than in that of the United States?  We have tried these popular institutions in times of great excitement and commotion; and they have stood substantially firm and steady, while the fountains of the great deep have been elsewhere broken up; while thrones, resting on ages of prescription, have tottered and fallen; and while in other countries, the earthquake of unrestrained popular commotion has swallowed up all law, and all liberty, and all right, together.  Our Government has been tried in peace, and it has been tried in war; and has proved itself fit for both.  It has been assailed from without, and it has successfully resisted the shock; it has been disturbed within, and it has effectually quieted the disturbance.  It can stand trial—­it can stand, assault—­it, can stand adversity.—­it can stand every thing, but the marring of its own beauty, and the weakening of its own strength.  It can stand every thing, but the effects of our own rashness, and our own folly.  It can stand everything, but disorganization, disunion, and nullification.

* * * * *

From his Correspondence with Lord Ashburton.

=_88._= THE RIGHT OF CHANGING ALLEGIANCE.