of war.

The cartel has been sent, and the prisoner of war is on his way to make the exchange. Does any man on this floor say that you can take him on his way, and try and hang him? And if not, why not? The plain answer is, Because, having recognized him as under the law of nations, while he is subject to its power, he is entitled to its protection.

Pass what bills we may, Mr. Speaker, when the war is ended, these questions will come up to be settled. I hope I may be pardoned for saying, with great respect, to my friends on all sides of the House, that they will be as difficult questions as statesmen or jurists were ever called upon to decide; and that it is wise to reserve, as far as possible, our judgment. No thoughtful man will content himself with the declaration, that belligerent "rebels have no rights." Passion may say that; reason, never. Passion, sooner or later, subsides, and reason re-ascends the judgment-seat; and these questions must be answered there, and to that august tribunal before which the conduct of men and nations passes in view, the enlightened opinion of the Christian world. Such questions are, how far, flagrante bello (while war was raging), with respect to prisoners of war, the civil power was restrained; how far the treating with rebels, and exchanging them as prisoners of war, may affect their punishment as traitors, either in person or property. I express no opinion, except to say they must be calmly met and answered.

But assuming, for the sake of the argument, that during the war even, and while recognizing their belligerent rights, you may visit upon the rebels the full force

and weight of the municipal law, I proceed to inquire whether the mode proposed by these bills is in conformity to the organic and supreme law, the Constitution of the United States. I am not to be deterred from the discussion by any suggestions from weak or wicked men-none other can make them of leniency to rebels, and compassion for traitors. There is but little elevation in contempt; but such suggestions do not rise high enough to meet it. They pass by me as the idle wind. If a man has no other arrows in his quiver, let him use these: I am content.

The favorite argument, Mr. Speaker, of those who claim for Congress the power to confiscate the property of traitors without trial by jury is, that the want of this power would show a fatal weakness in the Constitution, and a lack of wisdom and foresight in its framers. They will not believe the Constitution is so weak and helpless, so incapable of self-defence. Nothing, in my judgment, so shows its majesty and strength; pray God, immortal strength. The powers of war are almost infinite. The resources of this vast country spring to your open hand. All that men have, even their lives, are at the service of their country; and in this great conflict how nobly and freely given! You can raise an army of seven hundred thousand men; you can give them all the best appliances of war; you can cover your bays and rivers and seas with your navy; you can blockade a coast of three thousand miles; you may cut down the last rebel on the field of battle. Such is the power of war. But, Mr. Speaker, when you shall have used all these powers, when peace shall have been

restored, or when the rebels shall come and lay themselves at your feet or be taken captive by your arms, then also will the power of that Constitution be made manifest; then also will this Government be shown to be the most powerful and the noblest on the earth, not because the captured rebel is at your mercy, but because he is not; because, under the shield of the Constitution, the rebel at your feet is stronger than armies, stronger than navies. You cannot touch a hair of his head, or take from him a dollar of his property, until you shall have tried and condemned him by the judgment of his peers and by the law of the land. Does this show the weakness of the Constitution, or does it show its transcendent strength? Are these written constitutions established to give to Government power without limit over the property, liberty, and life of the citizen? or are they made to define and limit the power of the Government, and to shield and protect the rights of the subject?

I have always been taught that the people is the sovereign; that these constitutions are carefully defined grants from the sovereign power, so framed as to establish justice, and at the same time secure the blessings of liberty and the protection of law even to the humblest and meanest citizen. I know, Mr. Speaker, that these are getting to be old-fashioned sentiments. Magna Carta is soiled and worm-eaten. The Bill of Rights, the muniments of personal freedom, habeas corpus, trial by jury, what are they all worth in comparison with this new safeguard of liberty," the proceeding in rem"?

Were you ever. at Runnymede, Mr. Speaker? I

remember going down, on a beautiful day in July, from Windsor Castle to the plain, and crossing the narrow channel of the Thames to that little island, on which, more than six centuries ago, in the early gray of morning, those sturdy barons wrested from an unwilling king the first great charter of English freedom, the germ of life of the civil liberty we have to-day. I could hardly have been more moved, had I stood in the village and by the manger in which was cradled "the son of Mary and the Son of God." From the gray of that morning streamed the rays, which, uplifting with the hours, coursing with the years, and keeping place with the centuries, have encircled the whole earth with the glorious light of English liberty, the liberty for which our fathers planted these commonwealths in the wilderness; for which they went through the baptism of fire and blood in the Revolution; which they embedded and hoped to make immortal in the Constitution; without which the Constitution would not be worth the parchment on which it was written.

But I must not linger by the way, Mr. Speaker. What do these bills propose? The immediate object is to confiscate the property of the rebels. For what end? For punishment, is it not? If you strip these men of their property, it is not because they are innocent; although this bill does, in fact, confiscate the property of persons who may be guiltless of any offence: but the theory of the bill is to punish men for the crime of rebellion, or treason, or give it what name you will. The bill, indeed, recites, as an ulterior purpose, the payment of the expenses of the Rebellion. But there is

no man on this floor so verdant as to suppose this means much. If the courts enforce the statute (I believe they will not), how much treasure can you wring from those States, poor at the best, but whom the close of this war will leave impoverished, seared, and swept as by fire? You might as well pasture your cattle on the Desert of Sahara. The land will indeed be left; but who will be your purchasers, when they know they must take at the best a doubtful title, but a sure, bitter, and lasting feud? The strife and hate growing out of the confiscations of the Revolution are scarcely yet appeased; and it was with these confiscations fresh in the memories of the framers of the Constitution that the limitation of the power of forfeiture was adopted. There never was a wilder dream than that of paying the expenses of the Rebellion with the fruits of confiscation.

The real object of the bill is punishment; the punishment of an offence clearly defined in the Constitution, of the highest offence known to the laws. The punishment is the forfeiture of the property of the offender. The forfeiture is to be established before judicial tribunals, and upon proof of the guilt of the owner. You have, then, these three elements; punishment - upon proof of the commission of crime — before a judicial tribunal. One element is wanting; one has been diligently excluded, -trial by jury. Human ingenuity has been exhausted to shut the door against it; and your bill is like Hamlet with the Prince of Denmark omitted by particular request. Here is the plain, imperative mandate of the Constitution, which he who runs may read: