brought the country to a state of prosperity unexampled in the history of men; that party whose creed is simple and catholic -which inculcates the capacity of man for self-government, without reservations or provisos-which professes to adhere to a strict construction of the Constitution-to preserve inviolate the rights of the States, and to abstain from all officious intermeddlings in the domestic affairs of communities—which resists the accumulation of power by the general government, whether in the executive or Congress, and seeks to leave it as far as practicable in the hands of the people immediately interested; and which, above all, eschews all sickly sentimentality and spurious benevolence, and all temporary and hobby-riding issues, that it may the better advance its great principles of human regeneration-of freedom and good will-and the amelioration of the condition of man? I will not now recount the history of its triumphs, which this course of policy has given; but are they not written upon every page of our country's history as with a pencil of light? Let then the Democratic party of New York unite, one and all, upon the ground of its early cherished principles; let it evince its faith in the capacity of man for selfgovernment by its works, and not seek to enforce the legislation of Congress over the domestic policy of political communities which have no vote or voice in its councils, but regard man practically, as well as in the abstract, as wise as his neighbor, leave the States and Territories to such rights and such privileges as the Constitution gives them-to their own choice and responsibility respectively, and peace and friendship will again be restored to all sections, and the success of sound principles be speedy and enduring. I give you, in conclusion, as a sentiment, Mr. President, The Democratic party of New York, and its principles- freedom of opinion, freedom of the press, and freedom of self-government. SPEECH, DELIVERED AT THE CENTENNIAL CELEBRATION OF LITCHFIELD COUNTY, CONN., August 14, 1851. [Upon the invitation of the citizens of Litchfield, a large number of the natives of the county assembled, and celebrated the one hundredth anniversary of its organization, on the 13th and 14th days of August, 1851. The ceremonies were conducted under a large pavilion, erected for the purpose in the West Park, and were inaugurated and interspersed with solemn religious services. On the 13th, an Address was delivered by Hon. Samuel Church, LL.D., Chief Justice of the State, and a Poem read by Rev. John Pierpont. The 14th opened with a discourse from Rev. Horace Bushnell, D. D., which was followed by numerous letters, speeches, poems, &c., and closed with appropriate religious services. All who participated in the proceedings were natives of the sturdy old county. Altogether, the occasion was one of rare and heartfelt interest. Mr. Dickinson, on being introduced by the President, Gen. Brinsmade, spoke briefly as follows:] MR. PRESIDENT, LADIES, AND GENTLEMEN: Few recollections, indeed, are of deeper or holier interest than those associated with the home of our childhood. When the mind, like the Patriarch's dove, seeks repose from its wanderings, and returns to the place of its nativity, how many emotions rise up-how many pleasing, painful memories struggle for the empire of the heart! How is the perilous journey of life, from its cloudless morning, with its joys and sorrows, its lights and shadows, its smiles and tears, made to pass in rapid yet serene review before us. The parts we have severally been called to act upon the great theatre of life, the relations we have formed and the bereavements we have experienced, all rush in with their attending joys and sorrows and swell the heart too full for utterance. I am proud to boast myself a native of the town of Goshen in this county, though removed to another State by the varying currents of fortune while still a child. Yet, by the favor of Him, "who doeth all things well," I have been permitted, after forty-four years' absence, to stand upon the threshold of what was once my happy home, and to realize the imaginings of poetic beauty in— "The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood, The emotions which the occasion inspired, deepened by pecu liar circumstances, are too sacred to pass beyond the heart where they are so painfully felt, and the fragment of the little domestic circle who lived and loved upon that cherished spot, and are yet of earth.* We have assembled here, my friends, in obedience to one of the strongest laws of our nature,—one of the best and loftiest impulses of the human heart. When we have attained the meridian of life, and see age approaching, though yet in the distance-when the passions and impulses are subdued and chastened-when we cease to believe that the "deficiencies of the present day will be supplied by to-morrow," and Hope, that terrestrial charmer, no longer promises her after-growth of joy, we turn with a feeling of devotion which the heart has never before experienced, to cherish that holy love of home which God, for benevolent purposes, has established in the deep well-springs of the heart,-to repose our head, throbbing with the busy cares of life, upon which time, perchance, has written his untimely furrows, like a wayward child, upon that pure and holy altar of domestic love-a mother's knee-saying in the language of a native poet "Oft from life's withered bower, In sad communion with the past I turn, In memory's urn." The children of New England, of which this State, and * Mr. Dickinson received intelligence at the celebration that an elder brother was dying. especially this County, has furnished her full and honorable share, have been thrown broadcast upon the great battle-field of life, where they have been pre-eminently distinguished for their practice of the sterner virtues of manhood, and their disregard of ease, indolence, and sensual enjoyment. Though proverbial for religious veneration and their devotion to religious observances, they have never been idle waiters upon Providence, but have acted upon the suggestion of Frederick the Great, who declared that "Heaven always favored the cause of the best-disciplined troops!" But the excellencies of our common mother have been too truthfully portrayed by others to permit one further word of eulogy. Her sterling virtues have been traced in sober narrative, and her brow garlanded with the choicest specimens of poetry and eloquence which modern times can furnish. All that is left me is, to cast my humble chaplet at her feet, and to declare that, though she has many sons who can bring her choicer offerings, she has none who love her more. From the life-like delineations of the New England character, in the inimitable productions to which we have listened, we have seen that it is no extravagance to say that her sons have virtually climbed every hill-side, threaded every mountain-pass, explored every valley, fathomed every cavern and "wrung their shy, retiring virtues out," passed over every lake and river, and navigated every sea; they lasso the wild horse of the Pacific border with the Indian hunter, gallop by the side of the natives upon the ponies of the Pampas, and are first and last in the mines of California. Nor is their enterprise confined to one element alone, but they pursue with success the monsters of the deep, and achieve that which in the days of the patient but afflicted Idumean was regarded so formidable, "draw out leviathan with a hook." In short, such is their manly independence and characteristic self-reliance, that if cast naked and helpless upon the banks of the Ganges, instead of becoming objects of charity or commiseration, they would be sure to gain a livelihood and accumulate wealth, by furnishing fuel for the Hindoo Suttees by contract. And what, it may well be inquired, is the secret power by which they move the moral, and change the face of the natural world? It is knowl edge,-knowledge, industry, and virtue. What enables one hundred thousand Englishmen, in India, to cast down the temples, overthrow the idols, uproot the heathenism, and play the tyrant and tax-gatherer over seventy millions of savage blackheads, glittering in barbaric wealth, abounding in all the terrible elements of war, and burning with wild ferocity to expel the intruders from their soil? Alas! with all their natural elements of power, the answer is given in this, that "Knowledge to their eyes her ample page, Rich with the spoils of time, did ne'er reveal." Connecticut has sent forth her children, armed with a good common-school education, which, like the battle-blade of Fitz James, the Saxon, has been both "sword and shield," and carved out for them success wherever it has pleased Providence to cast their lot. But it is not to the success of ordinary temporal enterprise, or the accumulation of material wealth alone, that its benefits have been limited. Its teachers, and those who minister in holy things, have been forth upon their mission of light throughout the habitable globe. It has gone down to the cottage of the lowly and abject, and led its humble inmates, if deserving, to the most distinguished stations. It has triumphed in the halls of legislation, and shed a lustre upon the pathway of the most illustrious of its votaries. By its light, our mothers, sisters, and daughters have fixed their gentle yet mighty impress upon our social structure, as noiseless as the dews of evening fall upon the vegetable world, and have adorned it with all that is virtuous, refined, and elevated. It has served to bind together, in ties of amity and interest, in singleness of heart and sympathy of soul, a great family of States, whose hearts beat responsive to the pulsations of liberty throughout the world,-glowing, like beacon-lights upon the mountain, to warn mankind of the dangers of ambition and despotism, and to beckon them onward, through liberty and intelligence, to the temple-gates of happiness and peace. The sons of New England who have participated in this system of popular beneficence, comprise a large class in the Empire State, which has generously adopted them as her own, and cast her choicest laurels upon some of the most humble; they mingle numerously with the staid and sturdy yeomanry of the Keystone; they brush the earliest dew-drops from the vast |