The New York Herald Newspaper, April 30, 1874, Page 5

. We. meet to Nate bis, portrait, drawn py & anaster’ hand. ‘No loving wha partial friend- Bhip, vegu pn: Are pe es, Oe Al wi or State ride will unduly hei ‘he colors. And this well, For Summer belonged not to Massachu- Awel _ love justice and hate oppression, as long as they QCNURZ ON SUMNBR. The Final Tribute of Massachusetts io Her Late Senator. Interesting Services at Music * Hall, Boston. WEMDELL PHILLIPS’ REMARKS, Laments of a Fellow Worker in the Cause of Abolition. SCHURZ’S ORATION. A Brilliant Addition to Contem- porary History. SUMNER'S BARLY SPRUGGLES IN THE SENATE Mie Services to the United States and the World. PATRIOT, SCHOLAR, STATESMAN. Boston, Mass, April 29, 1874. The city of Boston’s commemoration of Unaries Surmner’s deatn took place in Union Hall this aiter- poon. The weather was rainy and tempestuous, ‘Dut every available space was filled by those fortus | Date enougn to obtain tickets, which were in such | demaud that as high as $20 was refused jor a single ticket. The andience embraced the city government, the state Legia- Yture, executive departments, Judges of courts, md several prominent persons trom other States. The platiorm presented a beautilul display of flowcrs. ‘she order of exercises were commenced by an organ voluntary, lollowed by a prayer and the hymn, “Hear us, Almighty One,” by male voices, Another prayer was offered by the Rev. . Philips Brooks, and a special hymn for the occa- sion Was sung by male voices to a Holland national air, and commenced, “Once more, ye sacred’! towers.” Wendell Phillips, who had just returned from the oneral of nis sister, the wife of the Rev. Dr. Blag- | den, which took place at noon at Mount Vernon church, was present, and ina tew eloquent words introduced the orator of the day, Senator Carl Sehurz, as follows :— ADDRESS OF WENDELD PHILLIPS, MR. MAYOR AND FELLOW CITIZENS—The Com- mMouwealtn has met with an irreparable loss—a | Joss which it tasks our lunguage to describe, Acopsecrated iiie bravely and soiemniy ended. A great work left, in tue providence of God, untin- ished—the completion 01 which not many o! us, I | dear, Will now hive tosee. We meet to pay anotuer tribute of respect to the memory of the greatest | man and the purest toat Massachusetts has lent we © national cus during this gen- eration or tie , 3; the one who has done She vation more/kervico!and earned the State more bovor tham any other. if we measure great- ness by rare abilities, lo.ty purpose, grand achieve- Ment and a spotless lite, then neither this gengra- tion nor the er pa im Massachusetts, any civil | Dame worthy to stand oy the side of Uharies Sum | ner, the last martyr—iiterally @ martyr—in the | Cause of free speech. and personal siberty. tis mene but to the nation and the world the lips of one born in # foreign land and in a iar off State, one who shared ouc labora, and Was his com- in \y-and bis near irtend, we shall hear the verdict—the solemn, the sober and dispassion- fate verdict which the worid and posterity will rep- der—wnhicn history, proud of her trast, will carry down to other generations, And as long as men value the devotion of gieat powers to the wellare Of the race, as long as they need to learn how the battle ior liberty is to be won when fought against almost hopeless odds, so long We may be sure they will lovingly guard the record. As such @ his- torian, in this sad, proud hour of bereavement, I Mave the honor to introduce Mr. Schurz, of Mis- souri, THE ORATION OF SENATOR SCHURZ, When the news went forth, “Charles Sumner is dead,” a tremor of strange emotion was felt all ever the land, It wasas It @ magnificent star, a star unlike all others, which the living generation jad been wont to behold fixed and immovable above their heads, nad all at once disappeared irom the sky, and the people stared into the great void | darkened by the sudden absence of the familiar ght. On the 16th of March a funeral procession wes through the streets of Boston. Uncounted jousands of men, women aad children had assem- Died to see it pass, No uncommon pageant had attracted them; no military parade with gilttering uniforms and gay banners, nO pompous array of dignitaries in oficial robes, nothing but carriages and a hearse with a coffin and in it the corpse of Charles Sumner. But there they stood— @ multitude immeasurable to the eye, rich and Poor, white and black, old and young—in giave and mourniul silence, to bid a last sad farewell to nim who was being borne to his ere. And every breeze from every point of the compass came loaded with a sigh ofsorrow. Indeed, there was not | acity or town in this great Republic which would Mot have surrounded that iuneral procession with the same spectacle of a profound and universal | sense Of great bereavement. Was it love; was it | gratitude jor the services rendered to the peopie; ‘Was it the bafiied expectation of greater service still to come; was it admiration of his talents or bis virtues that inspired so general an emotion of sorrow? He had __ stood | aioof irom the muititude; the frienuship | of his heart had been given to but tew; to the Many he had appeared distant, self-satisfied and coll. His public life had been full of bitter con- ficts. No man had aroused against himsell flercer | animosities, Although warmly recognizea by ™apy, the public services of no man had been more acrimoniously questioned by opponents. No statesman’s ‘motives, qualities of heart and = mind, aud character,, ex- cept his integrit) , had been the subject ef more heated controversy; and yet, when sud- den death snatched him from us, iriend and ioe bowed their heads alike. Every patrivtic citizen felt poorer than the day before. Every true Amer- toan heart trembled with the appreneasion that the Republic had lost something it cunid ul spare, Even from tar distant lands, across the ocean, voices came, mingiing theic sympathetic grief with our own, The American people take pride in saying that almost all their at historic characters were self made men, wilo, Without the advantages of wealth and early opportunities, won their educa- tion, raised themselves to usefulness apd distinc- tion, and achieved thelr greatness through @ rigged hand-to-hand struggle with adverse fortune, It is indeed se, A log cabin; w ragged little boy walking areiooted to a lowly country school-house, or sometimes no school-house at all;—a lad, after a day's hard toil on the farm, or in the workshop, poring greedily, sometimes stealthily, over a volume Of poetry, or history, or travels;—a forlorn looking youth, with elbows out, applying at a lawyer's office for an opportunity to jtudy;—then the oung man @ guccessful practitioner attract- fg the notice of his neignbors;—tien & me: member of & State Legislature, a repre sentative in Congress, a Senator may be a Cabinet Minister or even President. Such are the pictures presented by many & proud American biography. And it is natural tnat. the American people should be proud of it, for such @ biography condenses in the compass of a single life the great ory of the American nation, a8 trom the feebleness and misery of early settlements in the bleak solitude if advanced to the subju- wation of the hostile forces of nature; plunged ito an arduous struggle with dangers and dimt- culties only known to itself, gathering strength from every confict and experience from every trial; with undaunted pluck widening the range ot its experiments and creative action, antil at last it stande there as one of the greatest powers of the earth. The people Are jond of seeing their image reflected in the dives of their ioremost, representative men. But not such a life was that ot Charles Sumner, He ‘Was descended from good old Kentish yoomanry stock, men stalwart of frame, stout of heart, who ‘used to stand in the front ot the fierce battles of OW England; and the first of the name who came tu America had ac been 4 not been exempt rom the rough struggles of the eurly settie- ments, But aiready {rom the year 1723 a long line ait Sumners appears on the records ot Harvard College, and it ip evident that the love of study had loug been hereditary in the family. Charles Pinckney Sumner, the Senator's javher, was a uate of Harvard, a lawyer by projeasion, for sourteen years High Sheriff of Suitik county. SUMNER’S FIRS! AMBITION, In the exuberant vigor of manhood Charles Sum- | trely mdependent sove! in later years be pub- ‘ample unities of No tom Jor me tion than this:—‘Here ents how men,’ It was olar who spoke, and, no doubt, he spoke sincerely, But ne ound the slavery question in bis path; or, rather, the slavery qnestion seized upon fim. The advo- cate of universal peace, Of the eternal re! of Justice and charity, could not fai! to see in slavery. the embodiment of universal war of man agaiual nan, of augolute injustice and oppression. Little knowing Where the first word would carry him, ely deciared, private life 1 was could bear a tairer tn Hes one who, without the nonors or em of public stawon, a Be something for he he soon sound himself in the midst of the struggle. ‘lhe idealist found a livin’ ques- tion to deal with, whioh, like @ flash of light. ning, struck into soul, and set it on fire. nature broke out im the-enthusiasm of the enti- slavery an. In a serjesof glowing addresses and Jette: s ne attacked tag Lwrong.. lie protested against the Mexican Wal 1ul strokes the Fugitive: to draw the wig. wavery policy, aud wh through tia party Git baud of {ree soile.6. HE Was an abolitionist vy Nature, but Lot one, of who re,eeted tne con- stitution as @ coven With sigvery, His into, & decided anti- that Jailed be broke legai mind fonvne in “Constitution no express Fecognitien " @lavery, aud he congetsntly constru as 8 warrant or jreedum, his p in the ranks of those who were cal oli abolitionists.” iflees which this obe- Might cost hin; tor, ‘by no means & ery man was then, @ horror o! a large make anti-slavery dience to his moral at that time, abolitiopil jonadie thing. Ana even in Boston, posit portion o! polite sociel gpeeches was looked up Dut @ volgar occupation Sumner, who was go i seen the world and mix circies in kuvope; who kt and couid deliver ju gmel like @ veteran conno with the weulthy and po aspirations for an easy count upon their wiole not do anything oolish: among the abolitiont with them, put work sell to the chance of p streets by vulgar” he chiesica by heart, @ picture ora starue who was @ favorite and could In his Position mn lie nce if he only would it such a men should go d not ouly symaatntse em, and expose hi aragged through the th a rope round his neck, like Witttam Garrison—that was a thing at “Wi é polite societ: of that day wi evolt, and whic! no man could without danger of being severely a. But that was thing which the refi probably without givin the porsible coe as openly to dely # Webster tad for so ™ he 18 mMoment’s tiought to Mee*, He went even eo iar bor CHANGING, and only six years aiter delivery of his first popular address he was elected to the Senate of the United Stutes bya and free soliers. He ew successor of Daniel Wel Pointed secretary of SI that same ist of December, 1551, Henry Spoke his iast wora in tue Senate, aud then left she Chamber, never to returo. A siriking an@ Most significant coinci- dence: Henry Clay dugmerared from pubdlic life; Daniel Webster lett Senate drawing near his end; Charies Sumper stepped upon the scene, he close of one and the setung mn of another epoch in the \istory of the American Republic were portrayed in tne exit aud entry of theaé men. Clay and Webster haa appeared in the councils o1 the nation im tne early cart of this eeu The Re- public was then still in tte emldhoo every respect sull an untested expert solved protiem, Slowly and paimiuliy it strugg.ed throusn the first conficts of con- stituuional cheovies, and acquired only an uncertam degree of national consistency. There -were the somewnat unrul, cracies of the States, with tneir iresh Revoiutionary remin:scetjcys, their instincts o1 en- i the Senate as the Sige had been ap- taen seemingly diverg-nt interes. 8; and the task of binding them trmiy together. in the bonds of common «spirations of national syirit and the authority of national law, hatt, Mideed, fariy pro- greased, but was lr trom deimg. entirely accom. plished. ‘Lhe United States, pot. yet compacted by the meansot rapid jocorng a to- make every inhabrtant ot the hl o the Dational capital, were (hem ai tag con- jeacracy; und. the membera ganas copiederacy had, since the triumpbant iseue e Revolutivn, More common memories te, sutterings, embarrassments, dangers . -ogether } union pelicans. hated it as an a qurance that | than of cheer 80 cesses and of peporee pros: | tue fight ior tne public plunder mig st be curried perity and wellbeing. The gieas ers Qi the - on without the distarting inti usion of a moral prin- ‘Old World, Gercely contending _ thomeecives . cipie inipolities, But, deep down, mneg’s conscience Jor the mastery, trampied wri MORES UpYD , ke & ¥elcanic fire wus restless, r lor @ new the neutral Tights ot .the young un | ULES ag the tuin crust.ef compjomise Tepdbiic. A wat, Was imp Lm | © ops Ba As one of bl ey ¢ ie moral which 80 rei . -popcoadiing “and “dis- | ouly broken out sporadically, and moved small conte} erthe land. oped oud of timancial | nuinbers of men to open action, should dificalty nupg over the 00 ; and the dunger from abroad and embarrasaments at home were heigutened by g restlég party spirit, which tormer disagreemenca hud leit bebinu tuem, and which every newly arising question seemed to embitter. The outioog was dark and uncertain. It was under such circumstances that Henry Clay first, and Daniel Webster shortly after-nim, stepped upon the scene, and at once took their station in the foremost rank of puolic men. ‘A CALL FOR STATESMEN. The problems te be solved by the statesmen of that period were of an ewinentiy practica. nature. They Had to estavlisn the pusition of the young Republic among the powers of the earth; to make her rights as 4 neutral respected, { men—the the-~-ve! depth of his | rhe "whole Paraor of his | assuied with power. | e law; he attempted | | } ‘and joined the small | | ’ s ? slavery question. Many © time hed it appeared on the suriace during # period I bave eribel, threatening to overthrow all imgeniouaty Op and to break Union they at by slay 7 gue tion promise, and, appurentiy, with success, awhile, But however ‘firmly those compromises: Seemed to stand, there was @ lorce of nature at work which, ke a reetiess flood, silentiy but un- ceastogly and irresistibly washed ther 1oandation Until at just the towering stracture down. Tue anti-slavery movemeut is je of the’ great chapters of our history. the ~ passions ie the _strug- having been baried in thousands of graves, id the victory of universal freedom standing as fim and unquestionable as the eternal hills, we May now lovk back upon that history with an im- partial eye. It may be hoped that even the peo- ple of the South, i they do not vet appreciate the spirit whieh created and guided iy nthstavery Movement, wii sot much longer mist. lerstand it. Indeed, they grievously misunderstood it at fi time. hey looked upon it as the offspring of a wanton desire to meddle with other people's al: luis, Of as the product of hypocritical selfishness assuming the mask and cant of pnilanthopy, metely to rob the South and to enrich New England, or as an insidious contrivance ot crimi- Bully reckless political ambition, striving to grasp and monopolize power at the risk of destroyiug & part of the country, or even the whole, It Was Perhaps not uonatural that those iuterested im slavery should have thought so, but trom this great error aruse their igtal miscalculation as to strength of the anti-slavery cause, OPPOSITION TO EMANCIPATION, The anti-siavery movement, ivupd od against itself ali the influences, ali the all the arguments whicn ordinarily control wl actions of men, id, Do not disturb slavery, fur its products tll our ships and 18 one ot the guiecinns megns of our exchanges, Industry said, not disturb siavery, Jor it leeds our machinery and e8 Inarkets, The greed ol wealth said, not Gisiuro slavery, for lt is an inexhaustibie sountain of riches. Pol.tical am- bition said, Do not disturb slavery,.jor it :ur- nmishes us combinations and compromises to keep ) parties ailve and to make power the price of sy, aad their uow anu | ‘with satistaction, as a ; aud sanguine patriots to secure the saety of hcr maritime inte.est. | ‘They had to provide for nationat deence. ihey had to set the terior househuid of the Republic in working order. ‘hey had to find remewes ior a bu: dengome public uept and a disordered curiency. They. had to imvent and originate policies to bring to light the resources of the land sieeping unknown in the virgin soil; to open and muke accessible to the hasbandmau the wild acres yet untouched; to protect the frontier settlers against tne inroads Oo! the savage; to call into full activity the agricuitura!, commercial and industrial ener- gies 01 the people; to develop and extend the pros- Pperity of the nation so as to make even the discon- tented cease to doubt tat the national union Was and should be maintained as a biessing toall. Thus we find the statesmanship of those times bnsily occupied with practical detail of :or- eign policy, national deience, financial policy, tariffs, banks, organization of governmental | departments, internal land policy, Indian po.icy. improvements, settlements of dis- putes and dificuities among the Staves, contrivances ot expediency of all sorts, to put the government set and keep in orderly motion the working of the political machinery, to build up aad strengthen and secure the jramework i which the mighty de- velopinents of the future were to taae place. Such a task, sometimes small in its de- talis, but dificult and grand in its compre- hensivengss, required that creative, or- ganizing, building kind of statesmanship which t large and enlightened views of the aims and ends of political organization and ofthe wants of society must add a practical knowledge of de- tails, a sktitui handling of existing material, a just understanding of causes and effects, tae ability to compose distracting conflicts aod to bring the social forces into Iruitiul co-operation, Gn this field of action Ciay and Weoster stood in the iront rank of an illustrious array of contem- poraries, CLAY, THE ORIGINATOR OF MEASURE3 and policies, with his inventtve aud organizing mind, not rich im proound ideas or in knowledge gathered by bovk study, but learning as he went; quick in the percep- tion of existing wants and difMficuities and of the means within reach: to sacialy, the one and overcome the other; and ahora also— @ commander 01 men, who @ W riding through the struggies of those days mounted ou a Splendidiy caparisuned charger, sword in hand, apd, with waving heimet plume, leading the froni— a flery and truly magnetic soul, overawing with nis frown, enchanuing with his smile, flourishing the weapons of eloquence like @ wizard’s wand, overwhelming opposition and kindling and fanning the fame o1 enthusiasm—a marshaller of parties, whose very presence and voice, like a signal blast, created and wielded organization. And by his ¢ Daniel Wevster, with that awiul vastness t brain, & tremendous storehouse of thougnt nich gave forth = its treasures with pouderous majesty of utter- ance; he not af originator of measures and policies, but a mighty advocate, the greatest advovate this country ever kKnew—a King iu the realm Of intellect and the soiemn embodiment of autiority—a huge Atlas, Who carried the consc- tution on his shoulders. He could have carried there the whole moral grandeur of the nation, haa he never compromised Mis own, Such ‘men, Milled the stage ducing that period of con- struction and conservative national organization, devoting the best efforts Ol their statesmanalip, the statesmansnhip of the political mind, to the pur- pose ot raising their country to greatness im Wealth and power, o: making tne people proud of thetr common nationality, and of imbedding tie Union in the contentment of prosperity, 10 enlight- ened patriotism, nattonal law and constitutional principle. And when they drew near their end they could boast of many a grend achievement, not indeed exclusively their owh, for other power. ful minds bad their sure in the work. The United States stood there among the igen Powers, of the earth, strong and respected. The Republic had no foreign ioe to tear; its growth in population and wealth, in popular intelligence and progressive civilization, the wonder of the world. There was no visible limit to 1ts development; there seemed to be no danger to its integrity. THE TERRORISM OF THE SOUTS. But among the problems which the statesmen of that period had grappled with, there was one which had eluded their grasp. Many a conflict of opinion and mterest they bud succeeded in set- ting, ether by Ponttive decision or by judicious composition. jut one confiict had bornly batted the statesmanship of dients, for it wi more than & mere Mict of opinion and interest. It and knowledge, atub- expe: con- was a rmly upon its feet and to | Sumner actually ad, | bination of demucrats | in almost | t, aa un. | demo- | shrewd management. AN anxious statesmanship Said, Yo not dis'urb slavery, jor you might break to ptece the Union 01 these Stater, ‘there never wasa more formidable combination 0. interests apd infiuences t.:an that which conironted the antl- Wwery movement in its carler stages, And what ‘Was its answer? “Whether all you say be true or faise it matters not, but slavery i3 wrong.” Slavery is wrobg! {hat one word was enough. It stood there like a huge rock in the sea, shivering to spray the waves dashing upon it, Interest, greed, argument. vituperation, caiumny, ridicule, Persecution, patr.otic appeal—.t was all in vain, Amidst all the s.orm and = assault that one woid stvod there unmoved, intuct and impregnable: Slavery is wrong. Vital spirit of tne anti-vlavery movement in its early deve.opmenl. Such a 3; irit aloue could in- Spire that religious’ devotion which gave to the bellever all the stubbora energy of fanaticism; it alone could kindle that deep enthusi- asm which mude men willing to risk and sacrifice everything for a great cause; it alone could keep alive that unc. nquerabvie taith in ibe certainty of ultimate success which boldly at- tempted to overcome seeming impossibuities. It was, indeed, a great Spirit, as against difficuities which turew pusilianimity mto despair, it painfully Btruggied into fight, often battled and us often pressing forward with devotion always fiesn; nourished by uothing but a profound sen.e of rigut; encotraged by nothing but the cheering sympathy of liverty-lovmg mankind the work Ove, aud by the hope that some day tie con- Science Of the Americun people would be gu.ck- ened by a Jull understanding of the dangers wich tue existence 01 the great wrong would bring upon the Republic. No scramble tor the’ spoils of oflice then, no expectation o1 a speedy conquest of power, nothing but that conviction, that con. stasm, that iaitn inthe breasts of & S8mail bald of men, and che prospect of new, uncertain struggies ang trials. bs THE FUTILE “COMPROMISE.” . At the time wien Mr. Sumuer entered the Senate the hope of final victory appeared ag dis- tant us ever, but it only appeared so. ‘The states- men of the past period had just succeeded in building up that compromise which admitied Cah oruia as a tree State und impoacd upon the Republic the Fugitive Slave iw. ‘that compromise, Ike all “its predecessurs, was cursideret aud calied a final set- tlement. ‘Lhe two great po itical parties accepted it us such, In whatever they migus differ, as to this they solemnly prociaimed their agreement. Fuielity to it was looked upon asa test ot true patriotism and as @ guabfication necessary for the possesmon of political power. Opposition to it was denounced as tactious, unpatriotic, revolutionary demagegsm, tile shert of treason.” An overwhelming Majority of the American peopie acquiesced in it. Material interest looked upon it mise Of repose; timid ted it us a new bond of receive a reintorcement strong euongh to transiorm @ <iorlora hope into an army Of iresistible strength. One of those. eternal laws whica govern the developmeft of human affairs asserted itsel’, the law that a great wrong, which has been maintained in defiance of the moral seuse 0: mankind, must finally, by the very means and measures necessary lor its sustenance, render itseil so insuyportable as to insure 11s dowmail and destruction, So it was with s.uavery. I CANDIDLY ACQUIT THE AMERICAN SLAVE POWER Ol wiltaland wanton aggression upon the liberties and general interests of the American people. slavery was to be kept alive ac ull its supporters couid not act otherwise than they did. Slavery could sot live and thrive in an atmos phere of free inquiry and untrammelied discussion, ‘Therefore sree cussion touching slavery haa pressed. escaping merely across a State liue thereby es- caped the grasp of their masters. Hence an ef- lective fugitive slave law was imperatively de- manded, tu the Union unless its power balanced that of the free States in the national councils, ‘Ihereiore, by coiouizution or conquest, the number of siave States nad be augmentet; hence the annexation o Texas, Mexican war ahd in- triaues for the acquisition of Cuba, Slavery could not maintain tne equilibrium of power if it per- titted itseli to be excluded from the national Territories. Hence the breaking down of the Missonr: Compromise and the usurpation in Kansas. Thus slavery was pushea on and on by the imexorable logic of its exist ence; the slave masters were only the slaves Of the necessities of siavery, and ali their seeming exactions and usurpatious were merely a stynggie jor its nie, Many 01 their demands had beeu satisiied, oa the part of the North, by sab- mission or compromise. The Northern peopie, aithough with reiuctant conscience, nad acqui- esced 1a the contr.vances 01 poitticians, Jor the Bake Of peace. But when the slave power went Su far as to demand for slavery the great do- inain of the nation which had beeo hela sacred for ireedum iorever, then the people oi the North suddeniy understood that the necessi- tes O1 Blavery demandea what they could not yield. ‘Then tone conscience ol the masses was relieved of the doubis anv ieurs which had held 180 long im check; their moral impulses were quickened by practical ;}.erceptions; the moral idea became & practical torce, and the nnel struggle began. It was made inevitaole by the necessities Of slavery ; 1t was indeed an irrepressible couflict, THE EXIT OF CLAY AND WEBSTER. These Suis, were impending when Henry Clay and Daniel Webster, the architects of the last compromise, je:t the Senate. Had they, with all their far-seeing statesmanship, never understood nis logic of things? When they made their com- promise did they only desire to postpone the final Btruggie until they should be gone, so that they mught not witness the terrible concussion ? Or had their great and manifoid achievements with the statesn ansinp of organizauon and ex- peciensy 80 deluded their miuds that they really juped @ compromise which only ignored, but did nt settle tue great moral question, could Juroish an enduring basis tor iuture de- velopments? One ,thing they and their con- temporanes had indeed accomplishe un- der their care the Republic had ‘own 80 great and strong, its vitality had Lecome so tough, that it could endure the final struggle with- out falling to pieces under its shocks. Whatever their errors, their dejusiuns, and, perhaps, their misgivings may have been, this they had accom- Phsned; avd then they leit the last com- promise tottering behiad them, and turned their jaces to the wall and died. And with them stepped into the background the states- Mauship of organization, expedients and com- promises; and tu the rroni came, ready tor action, the mai confi.ct, and to open @ new epoch of American history, That was the historic sigaificauce of the remarkable scene Which showed us Heury Clay Walking out of the Senate Chamber never to return, when Charles Sumner sat down there as the suc- cessor of Dautel Webster. No man could in bis whole being have more strikingly portrayed that contrast. hen Charles: Sumuer nad been elected to the Senate, Theodore Parker said to him in @ letter of congratulation, “You told me once that you were in morals, not in politics, Now Lhope you will show that you ae Bull im morals, although in politics, 1 hope you will be tue Senator with a conscience.” That hope was gratified, He always remained in morals while in politics, He never was anything else but the Senator with @ conscience. Charles Sumuer en- tered the Senate not asa mere advocate, but as the very embodiment of the moral idea. From this yountain flowed his highest aspirations. There had been great anti-slavery men in the Senate pefore him; they were there with him, men like Seward and Chase, But they had been trained ina different school. Their minds had ranged over other political flelds, They understood lities. He did not. He knew but one pohtical object—to combat and overthrow the great wrong ol slavery ; to serve the ideai of the liberty and equality of men, and to establish the universal reign of “peace, justice and charity.” He brought to the Senate a studious mind, vast learning, great legal attainment, a, powerini eloquence, & strong and ardent nature; and ail this he vowed to to be sup- confics grounded deep in the Moral pature Of) ane service, With all bis ne Was not @ mere ox: inquiry and dis. | Slavery could not be secure it slaves | Slavery could not protect its interests | idea which was to tight out tne great | AP rr Fee etn gat Sach was the | j t | | | 30, 1874.—-QUAD. der of pales « he wae a worsht; sincere devort, at the shrine of his ‘eal In bo pubic the mural idea of the anti-slavery Move- strength. Lie made ever; He “id wot possess it; 6 him, ‘Theat was the secret of his pecuilar He imtrcduved himsett into the debstes id . tung yield to it. power. of the Sepa! juest: Hileneed for ever, 0s ‘patiicluce th several having been Politicians then thought, by eccnes on other subjects—the reception weanth, the land poliey and ocean post- oe ‘3 FIRST ONSLAUGHT, At last he availed nimseif of an aprropriation | bill to attack the Fugitive Slave law, and at once | @ spirit broke ‘forth in that first. word on | | — ite ag Al Seethon which atues every | + Mr. Cuase, supporting Mr. Sumner in | debate, ke of it ‘as marking a new era i American history, when the anti- | slavery idea ceased to stand On the defensive aud | Was boldly advaucing to the attack.” indeed, it had that siguificauce. There stood up in the | Senate @ Mae wo was no politician; but who, on the mapes field of politics, wiih a corcencruted | intensity of feeling and purpose never before witnessed thele, gave expression to a moral impulse, which, aithough sleeping perhaps ior | @ time, certuinly existed in the popular con- science, aud which, ouee become a political force, could pot jail to produce a great revolution, Mr. Sumucr’s Courage Waa of a peculiar kind, He at- tacked the slave power in the most unsparing manuer when its supporters were most violent in resenting Opposition, and when that violence was | aiways Spt lo proceed irom words to biows. One Wille by was delivering one of verest Stephen A. Douglas, wi up and de Dehind tie President’s chair in the ofd Senate ber, aud, listeminy to him, Temarked to @ fr , “Do you hear that man ? Tay be a io but I tell you that man has yuck. 1 Wonder Whether he kiows hinsed wnat | e 18 doing. {Bot sure whether | should have | the cou to thoge things tu the men who are scowilt wound him.” Neither was he conscious the stinging force of tne language he tiv employed, He simp; Tetbred what he felt to be true, in language ‘auung the strenet of bis gomvictions, The indignation of his morai sense at What he felt to be wrong wus so deep and sincere that he thought everybody must flud -the extreme rity of lis expressions as | natural as they to his own mind. And he was Hot unirequ surprised, greatly surprised, wuen others lauguage offensive. ne 13 AS A LEADER. Tn ons sense BO party leader. He pos- ses-ed none of theypstinct or experience of the | politician, nor t] city Of mind which appre- | ciates and me: ithe importance of changing | circumstances or ossibiities and opporcunt: | ties of the day. He ed entirely the genius of or- ; ganization. He never understood, nor did he value, | the art of strei concession, or combination al ing bis iollowing by timely | it reticence, or advantageous | iauce. He knew nothing of management anf party mancwuvre, Indeed, not unirequenily ne alarmed many devoted iriends ot his cause by bold. declarations, ior whico, they thought, the puble mind was not prepared, and by the unreserved avowai and stratgut- | torward == advovacy of ultimate objects, | whch, they tuought, might sately be leit | to the natmral development of events, He was not seldom accused of doing tnings calcu- Jated to trighten the people aud to digorgauize the aoti-sluvery lorces, Such was his unequivocal dec- ; laration in his Siaiereat anti-slavery speech tn the | Senate, that he held nimegel! buund by every con- viction of justice, night and duty to disobey the {u- | gitive slave jaw, and nis ringing answer to the question put vy Senator Butler, of South Carolina, Whether, witnout toe tugitive siave law, he would, under the congtistition, consider it hs duty to ad the surrender of iugitive slaves, “Is thy servant a -dog, that he should do this thing?” Such wus tis 8] on the “#urbarism of Slavery,” deliv- ered OD @ bill to admit Kansas immediately under ®. iree. State constitution; a sypcecu 60 unaparing, Vehement in the denuncta- tion in all its poiitical, moral aga” ) @8pects, and so direct in its pre- diction of the compi:te anniniiation of slavery, that it was said suco a speech would scarcely aid the admission, of Kansas, And yet, altuough he | had no ant mind, and despsed mauage- | ea ne Was @ leader. He was u leacer as the | ‘émbodiment @f the moral idea, with ail its. uncom! ising §=firuness, its unflag- ging tath, its daring devodon. And in this sense he could le w# leader only hecausge he was ho poliucian, He torced others to follow because he was himse:f impracticable. S.mply obeying his morat tmpulse, he things which in the highest legisiative body o1 the Republis nobouy eise would say; and he proved that they coud be said and yet the woria would move on, With is wealth of learning aud his legal ability he turnish vincing more tinud gouls tuat what he sarc could be sustained in repeating. Aud presentiy the poli- ticiaus feit encouraged to tollow tn the direction where the ideaiist had driven a stake ahead. Nay, he forced them toiellow; lor they knew thas the Adealist, whom they cuuld not venture to disown, would not tall back at their bidding. Such was his leadership in the struggie witha slavery. Nor was that leadership interrupted when, ity the 23d .of May, 1856, Preston Brooks, of South Oarolina, maddened by an ar- raignmeut onaniens mate, mee ai h Sel eek came upon , erin tle Senate, struck fin ob with ead 9 Wa and™ felt him on the grat bleeding and mse three years Sumd@er’s volee was not heard, vut his blood marked the vantage ground trom which his party could not recede; and his Senatorial chair, kept empty tor hum by the noble people of Massachu- sesta, stood there in most cloquent silence, con- tirming, sealing, inflaming ali ne had said with terrible iilustration—a guide post to the onward march of freedom, APPROACH OF THR BLOODY CONFLICT. When, in 1861, the republican party had taken the reins of government in nand, hia peculiar leadership entered upon a new fieid of action. No sooner was the victory of the anti-slavery cause in the election ascertained than the rebellion ratsed its head. Soath Carouna opened the secession movement, ‘the portentous shadow of an approaching civil war spread over the land, A tremor fluttered through the hearts even of strong men in the North—a vague fear such as is produced by the first rambling of anearthquake. Couid not a bloody conflict be averted? A fresh clamor tor compromise arose. Even republicans m Congress began to waver, The proposed compromise involved new and ex- press constitutional recognitions of the existence and rights of s.avery and guarantees against inter- Jerence with it by constitutional amendment or national law, The preasure from the country, even from Massachusetts, in favor of the echeme | ‘was extraordinary; but the majority of the anti- slavery men in the Senate, in their iront Mr. Sum- ner, stood firm, feeling that a compromise, giving express constitutional sanction and an indefinite | lease of life to slaveiy, wouldbe @ surrender, and knowing, also, that even by the offer of such a sur- Tender, secession and civil war would still be in- sisted On by the southern leaders, -The mstory of | those days, as we now know it, confirms the ac- | curacy Ol that judgment, The war was inevitable. Thus the abti-dlavery canse escaped a useiess hu- miiiation and retained intact its moral force for juture action. But now the time had come when the antislavery movement, no longer @ mere oppo- | sition to the demands of the slave power, was to proceed to positive action. FOREIGN INTERVENTION ADROITLY AVERTED. But in another direction a bold and unequivocal anti-siavery policy couid not tail to produce most salutary effects. One of the dangers threatening us was foreign intererence. No suropean Powers gave us their expressed sympatny except Germany and Russia. The governing Classes of England, with conspicuous inaividual excep- tions, always gratefully vo be remembered, were il disposed towards the Union cause. hent disruption of the repuouc was loudly pre- dicted, as if 16 were destred, and intervention— an intervention which could be only in favor of the South—was openly spoken of, The Emperor of the French, who availed himself of our embarrassments to execute his | ambitious desigos iu Mexico, was ani- mated by sentiments no less hostile. It appeared as if oniy a plausible opportunity baa been wanting, to bring foreign intervention upon our heads. A threatening spirit, disarmed only by timely prudence, had manifested itsgit in the ent case, It seemed doubtfal whether the most skilral diplomacy, unaided by a stronger force, would be able to avert the danger. The greatest strength of the anti-slavery cause had always been in the conscience of mankind. There was our natural ally. The cause of slavery as such could lave no open sympathy among the nations ot Europe, It stood condemned by, the moral sen- timent of the civilized world, How could ai European government, in the face of that uni- versal sentiment, undertake openly to interfere against @ power waging war dgainat slavery’ Surely, that could not be thought of, But had the government of the United States distinctly projessed that it was waging war against slavery, and lor freedum? Had it not been officially de- clared that the war for the Union would not alter the condition of a single human being in America ? Why then not arrest the useless effusion of blood; why not, by intervention, stop @ destructive war, in which, confessedty, siuvery and freedom were not at ktaker Such were the arguments of our enemies in Europe; and they were not witn- out color. It was obvious that nothing but a meas- ure impressing beyond dispute upon our war a de- cided anti-slavery character, making it in proves. sion what it was inevitably destined to bein fact— a war of emancipation—could chlist on our side the enlightened public opinion of the old World so strongly as to restrain the nostile spirit of lorein governments. No European government could Well venture to interfere against those who had convinced the world that they were fightin to give be to the siaves of Nort America. ‘nus the moral instinct did not err. ‘The. emancipation policy wis not only the policy of principle, but also the policy of safety, Mr. Sumner urged it with im- tuvus and unflagging zeal. In the Senate he jound but little encouragement. The resolutions he introduced in February, 1862, declaring state suicide as the consequence of rebeilion, and the extinction of slavery in the insurrectionary States as the consequence of State suicide, were looked Upon AS an ili-timed and hazardous demonstration, disturbing ali ideas of management. LINCOLN AND SUMNER IN COUNCTL. To the President, then, he devoted his efforts. Nothing contd be more interesting, nay, touching, than the peculiar relations that sprung tp bo- tween Abraham Lincoln and Charles Sumner, No two men could be more ulike as to theit moral impulses and ulumate aims; no two men more unlike jn their methods of reasoning and their judgment of means. Abraham Lincoln was @ true child of the people. There RUPLE SHEET. 3 but were uot | wuss Be remarkable, and attracted | tio ; her opposed it, because it did not contain suficient | had been made to believe that the breach between jared tO Say | an arsenal of arguments, con- | The perma- | | was tn hts heart an mextanstible fountain of ten- derness, and irom it sprugg tbat longing to be ful to al, which made | true, juss and merciiul je love him. .In the deep, large humanity of rat and political is soul Bad grown bis mot YP | Principies, to which he clung with the fidelity ; Of an houest nature, and which he de- fendéd with Me strength of a viorous mind, ® man that Sumner, during the most doubtiul days at the beginning of the wi addressed his appeals for immediate emancipa. n—appeals impetuous and impatient a4 they could spring only irom his ardent and overruling conviciions, The President ut first passively re- fisted the vehement counsel o tine Sen- ator, but he bade the counsellor wel- come. Jt was Mr, Lincoin’s consiant endeavor to surround himself with the best uod ablest men of the country. Not only did the frst names ol the republican party appear im his Cubinet, but every abe man m Congress was always Invited as an ad- viser, whether lis views agreed with those of the President or not. But Mr. Sumaer he treated as a Javorite counsellor, aimost like a Minister of State, outside of the Cabinet, A BREACH WITH PRESIDENT “ABE,” And thus their mutual respect wrew into an affec- tionate trieucship, which no clash of disagreeing opin:ons could break, Sumner loved to tell ins irieuds, alter Lincoin’s de.th—and 1 heard nim re- late it often, never without an expression of ten- -derness—how at one tims those wo disliked and feared his intimacy with the President, and desmred to see it disrupted, thought it was irreparably broken, It was at the close of Lincoin’s adminis tration, in 1865, whea the President had proposed certain measures of reconstruction, touching the state of Louisiana. The end oi the session of Con- gress Was near at hand, and the success of tue. bill depended on a vote of the Senate bejore the hour 0: adjournment on the 4th of March, Mr. Li coin had the measure very much at heart, Butsum- guarantees tur the rights uf the coiwred people and by @ parliamentary manwuvre, simply consuming time unul the adjournment came, he, with two or three otuer Senators, suc: | ceeded in de‘eating it, Lincoln was reported | vo be deeply chagrined at Sumnoer’s action, | and the newspapers already announced | that the breacn between Lincoln and Sumner was complete and couid not be healed. But those who said so did not know the men. On the might of the 6th of Murch, two dave after Lincoln’s Second imaugurativn, the customary inaugu- | ration ball was to take place. Sumner did not think of attending it. Rut toward evening he received @ card from tie President which read thus:—‘ear Mr, Sumner, unless you send me word to the contrary, I shall this evening call w th my carriage at your house to take you with me to | the inauguration ball. Sincereiy yours, Abraham Lincolu.” Mr. Sumner, deeply touched, at once made up his mind to go te an maugura- tion ball fur the first time. Soon the curriage arrived, the President invited Sumner to take @ seat in it with him, and Sumner tound there Mrs. Lincoln and Mr. Collax, the Speaker of the House of Representatives. Arrived at the ballroom the President asked Mr. Sumner to offer his drm to Mrs, Linco'n, and the astonished spectators, who Lincoln and Sumner was irreparable, beheld the President’s wile on the arm oi the Senator, and the Senator, on that occasion of State, invited to | lake the seat of honor by the Presidenc’s side. Not a word passed between them about their dis- agreement. The world became convinced that such a Iriendship between such men could not be broken by a mere honest difference of. opinion, Abraham Lincoln, a man of sincere and profound convicuons himself, esteemed and honored | smcere and profound convictions in others, It | Was thus that Abranam Liucoln composed his | quarrels witn his iriends, and at his bedside, when ; he died, there wag no mourner more deeply | aMicted than vharles Sumner. Let me return to | the year 1862, Long, incessant and arduous was | Suniner’s labor for emancipation. At last the | great proclamation, which seated the tate of { | Slavery, came, and no man done more to bring it ; forth than he. THE RECONSTRUCTION POLICY. As the rebellion succumbed, new problems arose. | To set upon their feet again States disorganized | ) by lusurrection and civil war; to remodel a soctety which had been luted out of its ancient hinges by the sudden change of its system of labor; to protect the emancipated slaves | agains: the old pretension of avsotute contro! on | the part of their iormer mastera; to guard soci | | against the possible tranxgressious of a large mul- | | tiiude loug held 1u siavery and ignorance and now | suddenly set tree; 680 to lodge political power in this infammable state of things as revent violent reactions and hostile collisions; to ; lead sucial forces 80 «i mto order ' ) fruitial co-operation, and ise Into | ties but recently rent by tl it violent pa 18 toa common’ = | Of the most | @ new spirit o1 loyal atiac! tonility—this was certain! | | Plexing tasks ever im the gg j ship of any tim country. But to | Mr. sumner’s mind ‘the of reconstruction | did not appear perplexing at all. Believing, as | | always did, that the democratic idea, as he found | it defined in the Declaration of independence, | “Human ciehts in their utmost expansion,” con- | tained an ultimately certain solution of all difm- culties, he-8aw the principal aim to be reached by @ny reconstruction policy in the investment of the emancipated siaves with all the rigats und privi- leges of American cirizensnip. SHE PROUELES WITH ENGLAND. While the championship of human rights is his first title to same I should be unjust to his merit aid L omit to mention the services he rendered on another field of action. When, in 1661, the seces- sion of the Southern States left tne anti-slavery party in the majority in the Senate of the United States Mr. Charles Sumner was placed as chairman at the head of the Committee on Foreign Relations. It was a high distinction, 8nd no selection could have been more fortunate. Without belittling others, it may be said ‘nat of ; the many able men then and since in the Senate, | Mr. Sumner was by far the fittest for that | | responsible position. He had ever since his college | days made international law a special and favorite | | study, and was periectiy familiar with its princi- | | pion the history of its development and its liter- | ature. risal; he ters of marque and never pa ad ae cobdeun privai erin nea sorter ons Rate the’ system of ‘pri "mone "Yas. jnc00 6 prize as with our enlightened civitization. In so: his priocipies were in advance’ orour umes bas surely the day will come when thi Reph marching in the iront ot progress, wilt adopt thems a ae own, and remember their champion with TNE PRIDK OF PURE GOVBRN MENT, I now approach the last period O bis Ife, which bronght. to him new und bitter struzgies, The work of reconstruction completed, ve (elt that three objects still demanded new erforta, One was that the colored race should pe pro tected by national legisiaion against ing discrimination, in the enjoymens of facilities of eduvation, travel and pleasure, sach ag stand under the control of Jaw; and this object he embodied on his Civil Rights bill, of which he was the mever and ¢éspecial champion. The secoud Was that generous reconciliation should wipe out lingering animesities Of past conficts and reunite in new bonds of brotherboud all those who had been divided. And the third was that the government should be restored to the purity and tugn tone of its @aritest dava, and that from its new birth the Republic should issue with a new lustre 0; moral greain 48 to lead ite chil- dren toa higher perfection of manhood, and to be a glining examole and beacon ght to all the na- tions of the earta. This accomplished, he often said to his friends he wewd be content to lie down and aie; but death overtook him before he was thus coutent, and be‘ure death came he waa destined to taste more of the bitterness of line. His Civil Rights bill he preased with noe flagging perseverance against an oppoaition which stood upon the ground thet tue ol nis measure contemplated belonged, under the con- stitution, to tre jurisdiction of the States; that the peopie, armeu With the ballot, possessed neo essary Means to provide lor tueir own security, and that the progressive development of publ sentiment would afford to them grester protecg than could be.given by Dational lezisiation OF thonadie constituuonality, The pursuit of the other objects brought upom bim experiences Of @ painiul nature. | have to speak of bis disagreement with the administra. tion of President Grant and with his party. No- thing could be farter from my desire than to re- open on @ solema occasion 1 ke this those bitter conflicts which are still so iresh in our mi and to assail any living Man in the name or the dead, Were if my pu! to attack, I should do 80 in my Own name and chvose the piuce where I can be answered,—not this, But 1 bave a daty to perform; it 18 to set forta im the tight Of trath the motives of the dead be‘ore the living. I knew Charles Sumner’s motives well. We stood together suoulder to shoulder in many @ hard con- test. We were friends, and between passe those confidences which only tatimate Iriendship knows, Therefore I can truly say tuat i knew his motives well. Mr. Sumuer could not be silent. He cherished in his mipd a high ideal of what th.s republic and its government should be; @ xovernment composed of the best and wisest of tue Jand; animated by none put the highest and most patriotic aspirations; yielding to no eel fish impulse; nobie in its tone and character; set- ting its face sternly againstall wrong and in- justice; presenting in its whole bemg to the American people a shiuing example of purity and Joity puolic spirit. Mr. Summer was proud of his country; there was no prouder American in the jand. He ielt im himself the whole dignity of the Republic. And when he saw anything that low- ered the dignity of the Republic and the character of its government he ielt it as he would have. feit ® personal offence. Hé criticised it, he denounced it, he remonstrated against it, for ne could not do otherwise. He -dia so, frequently and without hesitation and reserve, when Mr. Lincoln ‘Was President. He continued to do so ever ainee, the more loudly, the more ulficuit it was to make himself heard. it was bis nature; he telt it to be his right as a citizen; he esteemed it his duty as a Senator, That, and no other was the motive which impelled him. Yhe rupture with the administration was brought on by his opposition to the Santo pominge Bl A e After all he has said ot the President, Would to-day, if he lived, conscientiously, joyously aid in sustaining the President's recent veto on an act of financial lewisia tion which threatened to inflict a aeep injury on the character, as well as the true interests, 01 the American people. BREAKING FROM THR REPUBLICAN PARTY. But at ‘tae time of which I speak all he said Was so deeply grounded in his teeling and conscience that it was for him ditticult to understa low others could form diserent { conclusiogs, siortly belore the Nut.onal Republican ‘of 1872, be had delivered that flerce Aor which he has been cen sured so mnch, he t to me with the quea- tion, whether did not think that tne Btatements and ‘arguments he nad produced would certainly exercise a decisive influence on the a¢tion ol that convention. { replied that I thought it would not. He was greatly astonished, Not as if he indulged m the delasion tuat his. persot word would have suci author- itative weight, but it seemed impossible to him thet “opinions which im Aim bad risen to oN fall strength of ov conviction, that & oe peoehy ehich in him had giown so solemn: and as to bim to anv risk and “aor should tall power- party which so yen P| the feet of a long had followed inspirations kind.ed to Such was the ingeniousness of his nature faith in the rectitude of tus own cause. ‘ue result of his effort isa matter of history. After the Philadelphia convention, and uot until then, he Yegsolvéd to oppose his party, and to jom a move ment which was doomed: to deitat. He ed his sense of right and duty at a terrible He had been one o! the great chiels of hie pasty by many regarded as the greatest. He had stood in the Senate as a mighty monument of the gs victories of the anti-slavery cause. fst and | had been a martyr of bis earnestness, By ail republicans he had been looked up to wich with respect, by many with reveration, He had been the idoi of the peopie of his State. All this His qualities were soon put to the test. Early in the war one of the gallant Captains of our navy | |-arrested the British mail steamer Trent, running | |4rom one neutral port to another, om ‘the high | | seas, aud took from her by force Mason and Sltdeil, two emissaries-of the Confederate government, and their despatches, The Prous of the North | loudly applauded the act. The Secretary of the Navy approved it. The House of eee | commended it in resolutions, Even in the Senate @ Majority seemed inclined to stand by it. The British government, in a threatening tone, de- manded the instant restitution of the prisoners | Bnd an apology. “he people of the North re- sponded with a shout of indignation at British in- | solence, The excitement seemed irrepressibie. Those in quest of popularity saw a chance ; to win it easily by Dbellicose declamation. | But among those who telt the weight of responsibility more moderate counsels prevailed. The government wisely resolved | to surrender the prisoners, and peace with Great Britain was preserved, It was Mr. Sumner | who threw himself into the breach against the | violent driit of public opinion, In a speech in | the Senate, no less remarkable for patriot spirit than legal learning and ingenioo and irresistible argument, he justified surrender of the prisoners, not on the that during our struggle with the rebellion we Were not in a condition to go to war with Great Britain, but on the higher round that the sur- render, demanded by Great Britain in violation of | her own traditional pretensions as to the rights | of belligerents, was in perfect accord with Ameri- can precedent and the advanced principles of our | | government concerning the rights of neutrals, and | | that this very act, therefore, would tor all time | constitute an addittonat and most conspicuous | | precedent to ald in the establishment of more hu- | mane rules for the protection of the rights of neu- | | trals and the mitigation of the injustice and bar- | barity attending maritime war. | THE JOBNSON-CLARENDON TREATY, Only oue of his acts provoked comment in foreign countries calcuiated to impair the high esteem in which name was universaily held there, It was mis speech on the Alabama | | case, preceding the rejection oF the | | Senate of the Clarendon-Johnson treaty. He was accused of having yielded to a vulgar impuise of | demagogism in fattering and exciting, by | | Uniair statements and eXtravagant demands, | the grudge the American people might bear to | England. No accusation could possibly be more | unjust, and I know whereof I speal ir. Sumner loved England—had loved her long as he lived—from a feeling of consangutnity, for the treasures of literature she had given to the world, | for the services she had rendered to human iree- | dom, lor the blows she had struck at slavery, for ; the sturdy work she had done tor the cause of progress and civilization, tor the many dear iriends he had among her citizens. Such was his impulse, and no man was more incapable of | | Pandering to @ vulgar prejudice. 1 wili not deny | ; that as to our difference with Gi he was uot entirely iree irom perso! That | | tne England he loved so well—the England of Clarkson and Wilberforce, of Cobden and Bright; | the England to whom he had looked as the cham- | pion of the anti-slavery cause in the world, should ; | Make @uch hot haste to recognize, nay, as he | termed it, to set up, on the seas, as a beiliger- | ent, that rebellion, whose avowed abject | it was to found an empire of siavery, and to aid | that rebellion by every means short of open war {| | against the Union—that was a shock to hts eelings which he felt itke ® betrayal of iriendship. When, | flnaily, the Treaty of Washington was negotiated | | by the Joint High Comission, Mr, Sumner, although thinking that more might have been ac- | complished, did not only not oppose that treaty, but actively aided in securing for it the con- sent of the Senate, Nothing would have been more painful to him than @ continuance of uniriendly relatious with Groat Sritain, Had there been danger of war nO man’s voice would have page with more fervor to avert such a calamity. le wave ample proof that he did not desire any ersonal opinions to stand in the Way of a set+ | tlement, and if that settiement, which he | willingly supported, «id not in every respect satisy him, it was because he desired to put the future reiations of the two countries upon a still | safer and more euduring baste, No siatesman ever took part in the direction of our fore! affairs Who so completely identified himself with the most advanced, humane and progressive principles. Ever jealous of the honor of his coun- try, he sought to elevate that honor by a policy | Scrupulously just to the strong ana generous to the weak. A protound over of peace, he jaithially advocated arbitration as a substitute for war. The barbarities of war he constantiy labored to mitigate. In the hottest days of our was suddenly changed. Already, at the time of | his opposttion to the St. Vomingoacneme, he had been deprived of his place at the head of the Senate Committee om Foreign Relu tions which he heid so long and with so muc! honor to the Republic and to himself, But te! know how sharp @ pang it gave to his heart tnié removal, which he felt us the wanton degradation of @ faithful servant who was conscious of only doing his duty. But, when he had pronounced against the candt- dates of his party, worse experiences were for him. in store. Journals which ior years had ocen full Of his praise now assailed him with remorseless ridicule and vituperation, questioning nia past services and calling him atraitor, Men who had been proud of his acquaintance turned a: their heads when they met nim in the street. Former flatterers eagerly covered his name with siander. ° Many of those who had been his associates in tI Ly jad for freedom sullenly withdrew trom him their Neecben | Even men of the colored'race, for whose elevation he had labored with & in | fidelity and devotion equalled by jew and sur- passed by none, joined in the chorus of denuncia- tion. Oh, how keenly he feltit! And, as if the cruel malice of ingratitude and the ri 1 eee of iniuriated partisanship had not er en enough, another enemy came upon him, threatening his very lie. THE BATTLE-FLAG RESOLUTION. Speaking of the recent battle-fag resolution and the subsequent abuse Mr. Schurz said:—the spirit impeliing him to do so was the fame conscience which urged him to break away from the powerful party which+con- trolled bia State in the days of Daniel Webster, and to join a feeble minority, which ‘ stood up for freedom; to throw away the fa vor and defy the power of the wealthy aud retined, in oraer to plead the cause of the down-trodden and degraded; to stand up against the slave power in Congress with a courage never surpassed: W attack the prejudice of birth and rellion, an to plead fearlessly for the rights of the foret born citizen ata time when the Know Ni Pg movement was controlling his. State and migh' have deleated nis own re-election to the Senate ; to advocate emancipation when othera trembied with fear; to marcn ahead of his followers when they were afraid to follow ; to rise up alone for what he thought was right, when others would not rise with him. It was that brave spirit which does everything, defies everything, risks everything, sacrifices everything, comfort, society, party, | Popular eupport, station of houor, pro- spect for sense of t con- viction of duty. That ta tt for which you honored him Jong. for which you reproachéd him yesterday, and for which you honor bim again to- day and Will honor him forever, What e pecultar power of fascination there was in lim as a public man! It acted much through his eloquence, but not through his @loquence alone, His speech was not @ graceful flow of melodious periods, now bigs d on the listener with tne persuasive tone of con! deutial conversation, then aeey itm along with &more rapid rush of thought an » and at last lifting him up with the peals of reason in passion. His arguments marched _ forth At once in grave and stately array; hia sentences like rows of massive doric columns, unrelieved b: Pleasing variety, severe and imposing. Hi Orations, especially those pronounced in the Senate beiore the war, contain many asaages of grand beauty. There was notning indly persuasive in his speech; his reasoning ap- peared {n the form of consecutive assertion, not seldom strictly logical and irresistibly strong. His appeals were always addressed to the Robleat instincts of human nature, His speech Was never enlivened by anything like wit or humor. They were foreign to mis nature. He has never been guilty of a fash of irony or Rar casm. His Weapon was not the foil, but the battle axe. People of Massachusetts, he was the son of your soll, in which he now sleeps; but he Js not al) your own. He belongs to all of us; to the biacks he helped to make free and to the whites he strove to make brothers again, Set on the grave of him who was by so many thought to bs their enemy and jouna to be their frien the hands be clasped which so bitterly warres against each other, Let opon that grave the youta of America be taugnt by the story of his hat not only genius, power and success, Dui more than these—patriotic devotion and virtue, make the greatness of the cit gen. ‘If ths iesson be underst than Charles Sumner’s living have done for the glory of America be by the inspiration of his great example, and It | trwiy be sald that although tis body ites ing In the earth, yetin the assured rights in the brotherhood of areunited people and in ¢ Civil comMict he protested against the issue of let purified repubile he still Aves ama wil live forever.