Detroit, had his home in Massachusetts. Why, no, sir; she does not desire even to do that, for then she would have to blot out the fact that his gallant son had his home there-that gallant son who fell fighting for his country in the same war at Lundy's Lane-that great battle, where Colonel Miller, a Massachusetts man by adoption, when asked if he could storm certain heights, replied, in a modest Massachusetts manner, "I will try, sir." He stormed the heights.

The gentleman desires, also, that we should blot out the history of the connection of Massachusetts with the last war. Oh, no! She cannot do that. She cannot so dim the luster of the American arms. She cannot so wrong the republic. Where, then, would be your great sea fights? Where, then, would be the glory of "Old Ironsides," whose scuppers ran red with Massachusetts blood? Where, then, would be the history of the daring of those brave fishermen, who swarmed from all her bays and all her ports, sweeping the enemy's commerce from the most distant seas?

Ah, sir! she cannot afford to blot out that history. You, sir, cannot afford to let her do it-no, not even the South. She sustained herself in the last war; she paid her own expenses, and has not yet been paid entirely from the treasury of the nation. The enemy hovered on her coast with his ships, as numerous almost as the stars. He looked on that warlike land, and the memory of the olden time came back upon him. He remembered how, more than forty years before, he had trodden on that soil; he remembered how vauntingly he invaded it and how speedily he left it. He turned his glasses toward it and beheld its people rushing from the mountains to the sea to defend it; and he dared not attack it. Its capital stood in the salt sea spray, yet he could not take it. He sailed south, where there was another capital, not far from where we now stand, forty miles from the sea. A few staggering, worn-out sailors and soldiers came here. They took it. How it was defended let the heroes of Bladensburg answer!

Sir, the gentleman from South Carolina [Mr. Keitt] made a speech; and if I may be allowed to coin a word, I will say it had more cantankerosity in it than any speech I ever heard on this floor.

It was certainly very eloquent in some portions—very eloquent, indeed; for the gentleman has indisputably an eloquent utterance and an eloquent temperament. I do not wish to criticise it much, but it opens in the most extraordinary manner with a "weird torchlight," and then he introduces a dead man, and then he galvanizes him, and puts him in that chair, and then he makes him "point his cold finger" around this hall.

Why, it almost frightens me to allude to it. And then he turns it into a theater, and then he changes or transmogrifies the gentleman from Indiana [Mr. Colfax], who has just spoken, into a snake, and makes him "wriggle up to the footlights"; and then he gives the snake hands, and then "mailed hands," and with one of them he throws off Cuba, and with the other clutches all the Canadas. Then he has men with "glozing mouths," and they are "singing psalms through their noses," and are moving down upon the South "like an army with banners." Frightful, is it not? He talks about rotting or dead seas. He calls our party at one time a "toad," and then he calls it a "lizard"; 'and more, which e'en to mention would be unlawful. Sir, his rhetoric seems to have the St. Vitus's dance. Не mingles metaphors in such a manner as would delight the most extravagant Milesian.

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But I pass from his logic and his rhetoric, and also over some historical mistakes, much of the same nature as those made by the President, which I have already pointed out, and come to some of his sentences, in which terrific questions and answers explode. He answers hotly and tauntingly that the South wants none of our vagabond philanthropy. Sir, when the yellow pestilence fluttered its wings over the Southern States, and when Massachusetts poured out her treasures to a greater extent in proportion to her population than any other state, was that vagabond philanthropy? I ask the people of Virginia and Louisiana.

But, sir, the gentleman was most tender and most plaintive when he described the starving operatives. Why, sir, the eloquence was most overwhelming upon some of my colleagues. I thought I saw the iron face of our speaker soften a little when he listened to the unexpected sympathy of the gentleman with the hardships of his early life.

Sir,

he was an operative from boyhood to manhood—and a good one, too.

Ah, sir, he did not appreciate, as he tasted the sweet bread of honest toil, his sad condition; he did not think, as he stood in the music of the machinery which came from his cunning hand, how much better it would have been for him had he been born a slave and put under the gentleman from South Carolina—a kind master, as I have no doubt he is— where he would have been well fed and clothed, and would have known none of the trials which doubtless met him on every hand. How happy he would have been if, instead of being a Massachusetts operative, he had been a slave in South Carolina, fattening, singing, and dancing upon the banks of some Southern river.

Sir, if the gentleman will go to my district and look upon those operatives and mechanics; if he will look upon some of those beautiful models which come from their brains and hands, and which from time to time leap upon the waters of the Atlantic, out-flying all other clippers, bringing home wealth and victory with all the winds of heaven, he might have reason to change his views. Let him go there, and, even after all is said, he may speak to those men and convince them, if he can, of their starving condition. I will guarantee his personal safety. I believe the people of Massachusetts would pour forth their heart's blood to protect even him in the right of freedom of speech; and that is saying a great deal, after all that has happened.

Let him go to the great county of Worcester-that beehive of operatives and Abolitionists, as it has been calledand he will find the annual product of that county greater, in proportion to the population, than that of any other equal population in the world, as will be found by reference to a recent speech of ex-Governor Boutwell of our state. The next county, I believe, in respect to the amount of products in proportion to population, is away up in Ver

mont.

Sir, let him go and look at these men-these Abolitionists, who, we are told, meddle with everybody's business but their own. They certainly take time enough to attend to their own business to accomplish these results which I have named.

The gentleman broke out in an exceedingly explosive question, something like this-I do not know if my memory can do justice to the language of the gentleman, but it was something like this: "Did not the South, equally with the North, bare her forehead to the god of battles?" I answer plainly, No, sir, she did not; she did not.

Sir, Massachusetts furnished more men in the Revolution than the whole South put together, and more by tenfold than South Carolina. I am not including, of course, the militia-the conjectured militia furnished by that state. There is no proof that they were ever engaged in any battle. I mean the regulars; and I say that Massachusetts furnished more than ten times as many men as South Carolina. I say on the authority of a standard historian, once a member of this House [Mr. Sabine, in his "History of the Loyalists"], that more New England men now lie buried in the soil of South Carolina than there were of South Carolinians who left their state to fight the battles of the country.

I say, when General Lincoln was defending Charleston he was compelled to give up his defense because the people of that city would not fight. When General Greene, that Rhode Island blacksmith, took command of the Southern army, South Carolina had not a federal soldier in the field; and the people of that state would not furnish supplies to his army; while the British army in the state were furnished with supplies almost exclusively from the people of South Carolina. While the American army could not be recruited, the ranks of the British army were rapidly filled from that state.

The British post of Ninety-Six was garrisoned almost exclusively from South Carolina. Rawdon's reserve corps was made up almost entirely by South Carolinians. Of the eight hundred prisoners who were taken at the battle of King's Mountain-of which we have heard so much-seven hundred of them were Southern Tories. The Maryland men gained the laurels of the Cowpens. Kentuckians, Virginians, and North Carolinians gained the battle of King's Mountain. Few South Carolinians fought in the battles of Eutaw, Guilford, etc. They were chiefly fought by men. out of South Carolina; and they would have won greater fame and brighter laurels if they had not been opposed

chiefly by the citizens of the soil. Well might the British

commander boast that he had reduced South Carolina into allegiance.

But, sir, I will not proceed further with this history, out of regard for the fame of our common country; out of regard for the patriots-the Sumters, the Marions, the Rutledges, the Pinkneys, the Haynes-truer patriots, if possible, than those of any other state.

Out of regard for these men I will not quote from a letter of the patriot Governor Mathews to General Greene, in which he complains of the selfishness and utter imbecility of a great portion of the people of South Carolina.

But, Mr. Chairman, all these assaults upon the State of Massachusetts sink into insignificance compared with the one I am about to mention. On the nineteenth of May it was announced that Mr. Sumner would address the Senate upon the Kansas question. The floor of the Senate, the galleries, and avenues leading thereto, were thronged with an expectant audience; and many of us left our places in this House to hear the Massachusetts orator. To say that we were delighted with the speech we heard would but faintly express the deep emotions of our hearts awakened by it. I need not speak of the classic purity of its language, nor of the nobility of its sentiments. It was heard by many; it has been read by millions. There has been no such speech made in the Senate since the days when those Titans of American eloquence-the Websters and the Haynes-contended with each other for mastery.

It was severe, because it was launched against tyranny. It was severe as Chatham was severe when he defended the feeble colonies against the giant oppression of the mother country. It was made in the face of a hostile Senate. It continued through the greater portion of two days; and yet during that time the speaker was not once called to order. This fact is conclusive as to the personal and parliamentary decorum of the speech. He had provocation enough. His state had been called hypocritical. He himself had been called "a puppy," "a fool," "a fanatic," and "a dishonest man." Yet he was parliamentary from the beginning to the end of his speech. No man knew better than he did the proprieties of the place, for he had always observed