The peace, Mr. President, brought about an entirely new and a most interesting state of things; it opened to us other prospects and suggested other duties.  We ourselves were changed, and the whole world was changed.  The pacification of Europe, after June, 1815, assumed a firm and permanent aspect.  The nations evidently manifested that they were disposed for peace.  Some agitation of the waves might be expected, even after the storm had subsided; but the tendency was, strongly and rapidly, towards settled repose.

It so happened, Sir, that I was at that time a member of Congress, and, like others, naturally turned my thoughts to the contemplation of the recently altered condition of the country and of the world.  It appeared plainly enough to me, as well as to wiser and more experienced men, that the policy of the government would naturally take a start in a new direction; because new directions would necessarily be given to the pursuits and occupations of the people.  We had pushed our commerce far and fast, under the advantage of a neutral flag.  But there were now no longer flags, either neutral or belligerent.  The harvest of neutrality had been great, but we had gathered it all.  With the peace of Europe, it was obvious there would spring up in her circle of nations a revived and invigorated spirit of trade, and a new activity in all the business and objects of civilized life.  Hereafter, our commercial gains were to be earned only by success in a close and intense competition.  Other nations would produce for themselves, and carry for themselves, and manufacture for themselves, to the full extent of their abilities.  The crops of our plains would no longer sustain European armies, nor our ships longer supply those whom war had rendered unable to supply themselves.  It was obvious, that, under these circumstances, the country would begin to survey itself, and to estimate its own capacity of improvement.

And this improvement,—­how was it to be accomplished, and who was to accomplish it?  We were ten or twelve millions of people, spread over almost half a world.  We were more than twenty States, some stretching along the same seaboard, some along the same line of inland frontier, and others on opposite banks of the same vast rivers.  Two considerations at once presented themselves with great force, in looking at this state of things.  One was, that that great branch of improvement which consisted in furnishing new facilities of intercourse necessarily ran into different States in every leading instance, and would benefit the citizens of all such States.  No one State, therefore, in such cases, would assume the whole expense, nor was the co-operation of several States to be expected.  Take the instance of the Delaware breakwater.  It will cost several millions of money.  Would Pennsylvania alone ever have constructed it?  Certainly never, while this Union lasts, because it is not for her sole benefit.  Would Pennsylvania, New Jersey, and Delaware have