Aaron Burr: Farewell Address to the U.S. Senate

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Mr. Burr began by saying that he had intended to pass the day with them, but the increase of a slight indisposition … had determined him then to take his leave of them. He touched lightly on some of the rules and orders of the house, and recommended in one or two points alterations of which he briefly explained the reasons and principles.

He then said he was sensible that he must at times, have wounded the feelings of individual members. He had ever avoided entering into any explanations at the time; because a moment of irritation was not the moment for explanation—because his position (being in the chair) rendered impossible to enter into explanations without obvious danger of consequences which might hazard the dignity of the Senate, or prove disagreeable and injurious in more than one point of view—That he had therefore preferred to leave to their reflections his justification, that on his part he had no injuries to complain of—If any had been done or attempted, he was ignorant of the authors: and if he had ever heard he had forgotten; for he thanked God he had no memory for injuries. He doubted not but that they had found occasion to observe, that to be prompt was not therefore to be precipitate, and that error was often to be preferred to indecision—that his errors, whatever they might have been, were those of rule and principle, and not of caprice—That it could not be deemed arrogance in him to say that in his official conduct he had known no party—no cause—no friend. That if in the opinion of any the discipline which had been established approached to rigor, they would at least admit that it was uniform and indiscriminate.

He further remarked that the ignorant and unthinking affected to treat as unnecessary and fastidious, a rigid attention to rules and decorum; but he thought nothing trivial which touched, however remotely, the dignity of that body; and he appealed to their experience for the justice of this sentiment, and urged them in language the most impressive, and in a manner the most commanding, to avoid the smallest relaxation of the habits which he had endeavored to indicate and establish.

But he challenged their attention to considerations more momentous than any which regarded merely their personal honor and character: the preservation of the Law, of Liberty and the Constitution—this house, said he, is a sanctuary and a citadel of law, of order, of liberty—and it is here—it is here—in this exalted refuge—here, if any where will resistance be made to the storms of popular phrenzy and the silent arts of corruption:—and if the Constitution be destined ever to perish by the sacrilegious hands of the Demagogue or the Usurper, which God avert, its expiring agonies will be witnessed on this floor.

He then adverted to those afflicting sensations which attended a final separation—a dissolution, perhaps forever, of those associations which he hoped had been mutually satisfactory. He consoled himself, however, and them with the reflections, that, though separated, they would be engaged in the common cause of disseminating principles of that body with interest and with solicitude—he should feel for their honor and the national honor so intimately connected with it—and took his leave with expressions of personal respect and with prayers and wishes.