of a resolution in a Whig Convention, which I had the honor to oppose, and which, I rejoice to say, was defeated. But the defeat, it seems, was not final, and the object has at length been accomplished. We now have a party without any Southern wing, and it is looked to in some quarters as the opening of the first parallel of the great anti-slavery siege which has so long been projected. The result of such an organization remains still to be developed. But I am now where I always have been. I am against all such organizations. I have no faith in any party which tries to fly up into the high places of this great republic on one wing. As soon should I look to see the imperial bird which is the chosen emblem of our country's glory, cleaving the clouds and pursuing his fearless and upward path through the skies, if one of his wings had been ruthlessly lopped off. I want no maimed or mutilated emblem of my country's progress. I would not pluck a single plume from his pinions even to feather my own New England nest. And still less do I want any maimed or mutilated country. Nothing less than the whole, however bounded, — or, certainly, however it is now rightfully bounded, — will content me. And I desire to see no party organizations from which any portion of that country is intentionally or necessarily excluded. When a party composed of only half the States in the Union shall assert its title to the name of a National party, and shall be claimed and recognized as such, it will not be long I fear, it will not be long, before half the States will be claimed and recognized as a nation by themselves. A semi-republican party is only the first step to a semi-republic, and we all know it is the first step that costs. Heaven forbid that any second step should be taken in such a direction in our time! To-day, our country is the country of Washington, with some large accessions, indeed, which, however reasonably and rightfully they may have been opposed at the time, would hardly be spared by any of us now, but, at any rate, without diminution and without division. Mount Vernon, where he lived and died and where his venerated ashes still repose, is ours. New York and Philadelphia, where he presided over the infant Constitution; the Capital which he laid out and which bears his name; Virginia which gave him birth; Ohio وو which he surveyed in his youth; South Carolina and Massachusetts, which "felt his own great arm lean upon them for support in his tried and triumphant manhood; Cambridge, where he first drew his sword at the head of the American armies; Yorktown, where the eagle of victory finally perched upon his banners; Annapolis, where he so nobly and sublimely sheathed that sword and surrendered his commission; the Union which he blessed by the labors of his whole life, and by precepts and an example which will live for ever: it is all ours, and we can claim a full share in its whole inheritance of glory. I do not say that all this, or any part of this, is to be lost or changed by any event which I am willing to contemplate. I am no panic maker, nor have I ever set myself up to be much of a Union-saver. But this I do say, that this continued scuffling and wrangling between sections, these perpetual contentions and conflicts between the North and the South, are so shaking the foundations and jarring the superstructure and loosening the cement of our great republican fabric, that even if nobody should ever care to assail it directly, it may one day or other become absolutely untenantable, and be found falling to pieces of itself, by its own weakness and its own weight. And I do say, also, that every man who loves that Union as others do, I doubt not, quite as sincerely and perhaps a great deal more wisely than myself—should look to it seasonably, that by no word, act, or vote of his, which is not absolutely essential to the vindication of rights and privileges which are never to be abandoned, he hastens and precipitates a catastrophe, which it may be too late to repent, and which no time or wisdom may be able to repair, and when a voice may be heard over our land, like that which once sounded over Jerusalem of old, "If thou hadst known, even in this thy day, the things which belong to thy peace, but now they are hid from thine eyes!" THE WORTHIES OF CONNECTICUT. A SPEECH AT THE FESTIVAL OF THE SONS OF CONNECTICUT, I THANK YOU, Mr. President, ladies and gentlemen, for this kind and friendly reception. I thank you, Sons and Daughters of Connecticut, for the privilege of being present on this occasion as one of your guests. And yet you must pardon me for saying frankly at the outset, that I am not quite willing, to consider myself, or to be considered by you, as a mere guest here to-night. Indeed, before receiving your most obliging and complimentary invitation, I had resolved in my own mind, that, if no unforeseen obstacle should present itself, in the state of my engagements or of my health, I would venture to come here of my own accord, to assert my own individual and indefeasible right and title to be among you, and of you, at this Connecticut Festival. I do not forget, indeed, my filial relations and obligations to Massachusetts and to Boston. I have no wish, and no willingness, to ignore the State or the city of my birth, even for the purposes of this festive scene. Massachusetts is not a State, Boston is not a city, to be disowned even for an hour, by any one who is privileged to hail from them. But it would be unnatural for me to forget the ties which bind me to this Association. It would be ungrateful in me, if I did not remember that if I am not a Son of Connecticut, I am at least an own grandson. There, in the good old town of New London, once ruthlessly laid in ashes by an invading foe, but long ago built up in more than its original pride and beauty, and one of whose gallant whalers, I believe, has recently rescued from the Arctic icebergs that abandoned British Exploring Ship, whose restoration is at this moment exciting so much enthusiasm in Old London, there my own father was born, and his father before him; and with the rise and progress of the ancient and honored Commonwealth of Connecticut, the family stock of which I am a humble branch, has been closely associated for good report or for evil report, during a considerable part of more than two centuries. You have done me the distinguished honor, Mr. President, of calling upon me to respond to the toast which has been proposed in memory of the early Governors of Connecticut, and you have thus distinctly designated a subject for my remarks which I could not pass over with propriety, even if I desired to do so. And I am not ignorant, Sir, that there were many among those early Governors who were eminently worthy of being remembered on such an occasion as this. There was John Haynes, - who had been the Governor of our own Massachusetts Bay in 1635, and who, having been chosen the first Governor of one of the Connecticut Colonies, under the Constitution adopted at Hartford on the 14th of January, 1639, continued to exercise that office with the highest ability and acceptableness every alternate year -which was as often as the Constitution would permit his death in 1654. until There was Theophilus Eaton, the first Governor of the other of the Connecticut Colonies, under the Constitution adopted in that "large barn of Mr. Newman's," at Quinnipiac, afterwards New Haven, on the 4th of June, 1639,- and upon whose monument, erected at the public expense, on his dying after seventeen or eighteen years of continuous service in the Chief Magistracy, this quaint but pithy inscription may, I believe, still be read : "Eaton, so meek, so mild, so famed, so just, The Phoenix of our world here hides his dust, Then, too, there was Edward Hopkins, whose name is fragrant with the memory of numerous and noble benefactions in the cause of charity, education, and religion, both in Connecticut and in Massachusetts, and who will not soon be forgotten, I ween, by any one who has ever received a Detur for good conduct - Ex testamento Edvardi Hopkins at Harvard College. And there were George Wyllys, and John Webster, and Thomas Welles, and Gurdon Saltonstall, all of them men of distinguished integrity and ability, of eminent purity and piety, men of renown, famous in their generations, and whose public conduct and private characters reflect lustre on the community with which they were so early and so prominently associated. There may have been others, perhaps, equally worthy of commemoration, among what may fairly be entitled the early Governors of Connecticut. But you have seen fit to designate the name of John Winthrop, as one peculiarly worthy to be singled out on this occasion as the subject of remark, and it is not for me to draw the fitness of that selection into doubt. And if, in speaking of him, I should seem to be dealing too much with family names, the responsibility must be upon those who have assigned me the topic. I trust, however, sir, that I am capable of looking back through the vista of two hundred years, and of passing judgment upon the course and character of those who played conspicuous parts in that early period of New England history, whether upon a Connecticut or a Massachusetts stage, without any unbecoming display of partiality or of prejudice, even though some of them were of my own kith and kin. And if there be a purer, or nobler, or lovelier character in the history of Connecticut, whether in its earlier or its later periods, whether among Governors or among governed, than that of the younger Winthrop, or if there be any one who rendered to the infant Colony whose children are here assembled, more distinguished and valuable services during a longer term of years, I should rejoice to know his name, and to unite with you all in giving him the deserved priority and preeminence on this and on every other appropriate occasion. The younger Winthrop came over to America at first with no other view than that of being a humble fellow-laborer with his honored father in establishing the Colony of Massachusetts Bay. "For the business of New England," said he to his father in a beautiful letter written in 1629, when he was hardly twentyfour years old, and which furnishes an index to his whole career, "For the business of New England, I can say no other thing, but that I believe confidently that the whole disposition thereof |