ministration, what party, shall dare to repel and repulse such a returning sister, and tell her that she cannot be re-admitted to the old family household until she has prepared herself for relishing the eloquence of Wendell Phillips, justly celebrated as that eloquence may be? Why, my friends, the proclamation of the President, as an instrument for achieving success and securing submission, is one thing; but a demand for the total abandonment of slavery, and the re-organization of the whole social structure of the South, as conditions precedent for receiving and accepting submission whenever it shall be tendered, and after it has been secured, is a wholly different thing. The one may, perhaps, be justified on a constructive plea of necessity. But there can be no plea of necessity after the submission is accomplished. If the States in rebellion, one or all, were simply to lay down their arms tomorrow, and throw themselves unconditionally on the old Constitution, and range themselves once more under the old flag, what else could we do, what else should we do, but receive them with open arms to the old Union of our fathers? Pains and penalties might be enforced on individual offenders. The law and the officers of the law would have all that matter to look after. But pains and penalties would soon be almost forgotten in the joy which would pervade the country. The return of the prodigal son would be nothing to it. We should get a nearer and clearer impression than almost ever before of that exquisite idea of the good Book,—that there is more joy over one sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just men that need no repentance. Whatever the administration or the President might say, the great majority of the people of the United States, as I believe, would adopt the tone of that noble letter of the hero of Atlanta, when he said to the mayor of that captured city: "We don't want your negroes, or your horses, or your houses, or your land, or any thing you have; but we do want, and will have, a just obedience to the laws of the United States." "I want peace, and believe it can only be reached through Union and war, and I will ever conduct war purely with a view to early and perfect success. But, my dear sir, when that peace does come, you may call on me for any thing. Then will I share with you the last cracker, and watch with you to shield your homes and families

against danger from every quarter." Yes, not only would the gallant Sherman "watch with them to shield their homes and families against danger from every quarter," but that whole noble army, which has done such glorious service in the West, would watch with him, and we should witness such a fraternization, and such a jubilee, as would send a thrill of joy to the heart of every real friend of Union and peace and constitutional liberty in our land. We should not stop to ask whether we had obtained any thing more than Union and peace. We should leave the judicial tribunals to ascertain that. We should remit that question to the constables and the court-houses. We should feel that in vindicating the authority of the Constitution and laws, and in restoring the Union of our fathers, we had prepared the way for a glorious future for our country, and had accomplished the great end for which so many noble young men had shed their blood and laid down their lives. And so we should all thank God and be joyful. Undoubtedly, my friends, it is the hope of us all, that, in some way or other, sooner or later, out of this abhorrent rebellion will have come the ultimate extinction of domestic slavery. Many of us believe that if the war were to cease to-morrow, and the Southern States were to come back without any condition or terms whatever, slavery would be found to have received a wound from which it could never recover. Mr. Seward himself, in that same extraordinary speech from which I have already quoted, has expressly told us that, practically, slavery is no longer in question. "I told you here (he says), a year ago, that, practically, slavery was no longer in question,—that it was perishing under the operation of the war.' "That assertion," he adds, "has been confirmed. Jefferson Davis tells you in effect the same thing." And Jefferson Davis does indeed tell us very much the same thing, if the report is to be credited of his conversation with certain quasi-peace commissioners who went to Richmond under a pass furnished by General Grant at the request of President Lincoln. Jefferson Davis is stated in that report to have admitted that two millions of slaves one-half of the whole number in the Southern States-had been practically freed already.

But whatever may be our opinions on this point, it will be enough for us all,- enough, certainly, for General McClellan aud

"The

his supporters, -if we shall have succeeded in restoring the Union; and I believe the people of the loyal States will agree with him and agree with us, that the war ought not to be prosecuted another day, another hour, another instant, for any purpose under the sun, except the simple restoration of the Union. Union, the Union, the one condition of peace. We ask no more." That is the platform of our candidate, and that is our platform. We are not for propagating philanthropy at the point of the bayonet. We are not for wading through seas of blood in order to re-organize the whole social structure of the South. Christianity forbids us; for it tells us not to do evil even that good may come. The Constitution forbids us; for the moment the rebellion is suppressed, the war becomes unconstitutional, whatever may be its pretext. The condition of our country, which has already sent forth more than two millions of soldiers into the field, and which is already groaning beneath a debt of three or four thousand millions of dollars, - the condition of our beloved country forbids us from sending another soldier, or spending another dollar, after the Union is saved. Fellowcitizens, a solemn oath to support "the Constitution of the United States as it is," is still upon all our rulers, and a solemn obligation to do so still rests upon the whole people. No rebellion elsewhere can justify rebellion on our part. We must pursue constitutional ends, and we must pursue them by constitutional means. Then we shall succeed, and then our success will be substantial and permanent. Oh, what a triumph it would be if the Constitution of our fathers should come out, after all, unscathed from this fiery trial; if it should be seen to have prevailed, by its own innate original force and vigor, over all the machinations and assaults of its enemies! How proudly, then, might we hold it up before all mankind, in all time to come, as we have in all time past, as indeed the masterpiece of political and civil wisdom! How confidently could we then challenge all the world to show us a system of government of equal stability and endurance! It has already stood the strain of prosperity and of adversity. Foreign wars and domestic dissensions have hitherto assailed it in vain. The rains have descended, and the winds have blown, and the floods have come and beaten upon it,

but it has not been shaken. The great final test is now upon it; rebellion, revolution, civil war, in their most formidable and appalling shape. Oh, if we can but carry it through this last trial unharmed, we never again need fear for its security. Let us then hold it up-the Constitution, the whole Constitution, and nothing but the Constitution as at once the end and the instrument of all our efforts. Let us demand a faithful adherence to all its forms and to all its principles. Let us watch jealously for the observance and fulfilment of all its provisions. And let us resolve that if it does fail and fall at last, it shall be by the madness of its enemies, and not by the supineness or willing surrender of its friends.

Fellow-citizens, with such issues before us, I need say little about candidates. You know already, I am sure, all that you care to know about President Lincoln. Yet, perhaps, I can recall a little passage in his public life which may at least amuse you. His only term of Congressional service was during the period when I had the honor to preside over the House of which he was a member. He helped me to the Speaker's chair by his own vote, and I really wish I could find it in my conscience to return the compliment at this moment. But I cannot forget a certain speech which he made in the month of July, 1848, in reference to the nomination for the Presidency of a distinguished Democrat who still lives (I rejoice to remember), to enjoy the esteem and respect of all who know him.

"By the way, Mr. Speaker (said he), did you know that I am a military hero? Yes, sir (continued he), in the days of the Black Hawk war, I fought, bled, and came away. Speaking of General Cass's career reminds me of my own. I was not at Stillman's defeat, but I was about as near it as Cass was to Hull's surrender; and, like him, I saw the place soon afterward. It is quite certain that I did not break my sword, for I had none to break; but I bent a musket pretty badly on one occasion. If Cass broke his sword, the idea is, he broke it in desperation; I bent the musket by accident. If General Cass went in advance of me in picking whortleberries, I guess I surpassed him in charges upon the wild onions. If he saw any live fighting Indians, it was more than I did, but I had a good many bloody

struggles with the mosquitoes; and, although I never fainted from loss of blood, I can truly say I was often very hungry. Mr. Speaker, if I should ever conclude to doff whatever our Democratic friends may suppose there is of black-cockade Federalism about me, and thereupon they shall take me up as their candidate for the Presidency, I protest they shall not make fun of me, as they have of General Cass, by attempting to write me into a military hero."

Ah, my friends, what a blessed thing for the country it would have been if President Lincoln had only "recked his own rede;" if, after he became President, he had not made fun of himself by attempting to play the part of a military hero! Why, it is hardly too much to say that if he had never undertaken to direct and control the course of our armies, if he had not so rashly interfered with the movements of at least one of our generals, Richmond might have been taken, and the war triumphantly terminated, long before this time. You all know the General to whom I refer, and the circumstances of that interference.

Indeed, the whole career of our noble candidate is fresh in the minds and hearts of the whole American people. You have followed the story, I doubt not, as admirably narrated by my accomplished and excellent friend, Mr. Hillard. You have traced him through that memorable campaign in Mexico, and have not forgotten his gallantry at Contreras, where, like Washington at Braddock's defeat, he had two horses shot under him, but came off substantially unharmed. You have accompanied him on his visit to the scene of the Crimean war, and have not forgotten his masterly report on the armies of Europe. You have followed him in that glorious little pioneer campaign in Western Virginia, at the outbreak of the rebellion, and have not forgotten the brilliant victories by which that campaign was crowned. You have seen him assume the command of the whole forces of the Union, and have not forgotten with what devotion, and with what consummate skill, he organized the grand Army of the Potomac. You have followed him through that terrible Peninsular campaign. You have accompanied him through those fearful seven days of agony and glory. You have seen how cruelly he was thwarted and stripped of his troops on the