voluble in proclamations to that end. The trainers
of the Constitution, aware of its invalidity without
the sanction of the people, provided for its submission
to “approval” or “disapproval,”
to “ratification” or “rejection”;
and yet, by the paltriest juggle in recorded history,
devised, in the same breath, a method of taking the
vote, which completely nullified its own terms.
No man was allowed to “disapprove” it,
no man was allowed to “reject” it,—except
in regard to a single section,—and before
he could vote for or against that, he was obliged
to vote in favor of all the rest. If there had
been a hundred thousand voters in the Territory opposed
to the Constitution, and but one voter in its favor,
the hundred thousand voters could not have voted upon
it at all, but the one voter could,—and
the vote of that one would have been construed into
a popular approval, while the will of all the others
would have been practically void. By this pitiful
stratagem, it was supposed, the double exigency of
Mr. Buchanan’s often repeated sentiments, and
of the pro-slavery cause, which dreaded a popular
vote, was completely satisfied; and the President
of the United States, reckless of his position and
his fame, lent himself to the shameless and despicable
palter. He not only lent himself to it, but he
has openly argued its propriety, and is now making
the adherence of his friends to such baseness the
test of their party fidelity. In the name of Democracy,—of
that sacred and sublime principle into which we, as
a nation, have been baptized,—which declares
the inalienable rights of man,—and which,
as it makes the tour of the earth, hand and hand with
Christianity, is lifting the many from the dust, where
for ages they have been trampled, into political life
and dignity,—he converts a paltry swindle
into its standard and creed, and prostitutes its glorious
mission, as a redeeming influence among men, into
a ministry of slavery and outrage.
Mr. Buchanan knows—we believe better than
any man in the country—that the Lecompton
Constitution is not the act of the people of Kansas.
By the election of the 4th of January—an
election which was perfectly valid, because it was
held under the authority of a Territorial Legislature
superior to the Convention—it was solemnly
and unequivocally condemned. This of itself was
enough to demonstrate that fact. But all the
Democratic Governors of the Territory—with
the single exception of Shannon, and the recently
appointed acting Governor, Denver, who is prudently
silent—testify urgently to the same truth.
Reeder, Geary, and Walker, together with the late acting
Governor, Stanton, asseverate, in the most earnest
and emphatic manner, that the majority in Kansas is
for making it a Free State,—that the minority
which has ruled is a factious minority, and that they
have obtained and perpetuated their ascendency by
a most unblushing series of crimes and frauds.
Yet, in the teeth of this evidence,—of repeated
elections,—of his own witnesses turning
against him,—the President adheres to the
infamous plans of the pro-slavery leaders; and, if
not arrested by the rebukes of the North, he will
insist on imposing their odious measures upon their
long-suffering victims.