In his speech of 1824 he objects to the protective system on general principles, applicable to every case not clearly exceptional; and the further Congress was disposed to carry an erroneous system, the more was he bound to lift up his voice against it.  It seems to us that, when he abandoned the convictions of his own mind and took service under Mr. Clay, he descended (to use the fine simile of the author of “Felix Holt”) from the rank of heroes to that of the multitude for whom heroes fight.  He was a protectionist, thenceforth, as long as he lived.  If he was right in 1824, how wrong he was in 1846!  In 1824 he pointed to the high wages of American mechanics as a proof that the protective system was unnecessary; and he might have quoted Adam Smith to show that, in 1770, wages in the Colonies were just as high, compared with wages in Europe, as in 1824.  In 1846 he attributed high wages in America to the operation of the protective system.  In 1824 free trade was the good, and restriction the evil; in 1846 restriction was the good, and free trade the evil.

Practical wisdom, indeed, was not in this man.  He was not formed to guide, but to charm, impress, and rouse mankind.  His advocacy of the Greek cause, in 1824, events have shown to be unwise; but his speech on this subject contains some passages so exceedingly fine, noble, and harmonious, that we do not believe they have ever been surpassed in extempore speech by any man but himself.  The passage upon Public Opinion, for example, is always read with delight, even by those who can call to mind the greatest number of instances of its apparent untruth.

“The time has been, indeed, when fleets, and armies, and subsidies were the principal reliances, even in the best cause.  But, happily for mankind, a great change has taken place in this respect.  Moral causes come into consideration in proportion as the progress of knowledge is advanced; and the public opinion of the civilized world is rapidly gaining an ascendency over mere brutal force....  It may be silenced by military power, but it cannot be conquered.  It is elastic, irrepressible, and invulnerable to the weapons of ordinary warfare.  It is that impassible, unextinguishable enemy of mere violence and arbitrary rule, which, like Milton’s angels,

          “’Vital in every part,... 
          Cannot, but by annihilating, die.’

“Until this be propitiated or satisfied, it is vain for power to talk either of triumphs or of repose.  No matter what fields are desolated, what fortresses surrendered, what armies subdued, or what provinces overrun....  There is an enemy that still exists to check the glory of these triumphs.  It follows the conqueror back to the very scene of his ovations; it calls upon him to take notice that Europe, though silent, is yet indignant; it shows him that the sceptre of his victory is a barren sceptre; that it shall confer neither joy nor honor; but shall moulder