what the Northern States, or what the Southern States, might find most agreeable to their feelings, or most advantageous to their interests. I ask only,-what is right, what is just, what is best, for the permanent welfare of the people of those future. commonwealths, whose foundations are now about to be laid, and whose destinies are now about to be determined? And all my observation, all my experience, all the convictions of my mind and of my heart, unite in replying to this question, that slavery is not only an injustice and a wrong to those who are under its immediate yoke, but that it is an evil and an injury to the highest social, moral, and political interests of any State in which it exists.

Here, then, Sir, I bring these remarks to a close. I have explained, to the best of my ability, the views which I entertain of the great questions of the day. Those views may be misrepresented hereafter, as they have been heretofore; but they cannot be misunderstood by any one who desires, or who is even willing, to understand them. Most gladly would I have found myself agreeing more entirely with some of the friends whom I see around me, and with more than one of those elsewhere, with whom I have always been proud to be associated, and whose lead, on almost all occasions, I have rejoiced to follow.

One tie, however, I am persuaded, still remains to us all-a common devotion to the Union of these States, and a common determination to sacrifice every thing but principle to its preservation. Our responsibilities are indeed great. This vast Republic, stretching from sea to sea, and rapidly outgrowing every thing but our affections, looks anxiously to us, this day, to take care that it receives no detriment. Nor is it too much to say, that the eyes and the hearts of the friends of constitutional freedom throughout the world, are at this moment turned eagerly here more eagerly than ever before to behold an example of successful republican institutions, and to see them come out safely and triumphantly from the fiery trial to which they are now subjected!

I have the firmest faith that these eyes and these hearts will not be disappointed. I have the strongest belief that the visions and phantoms of disunion which now appall us, will soon be

remembered only like the clouds of some April morning, or "the dissolving views" of some evening spectacle. I have the fullest conviction that this glorious Republic is destined to outlast all, all, at either end of the Union, who may be plotting against its peace, or predicting its downfall.

"Fond, impious man! think'st thou, yon sanguine cloud,

Rais'd by thy breath, has quench'd the orb of day?

To-morrow, he repairs the golden flood,

And warms the nations with redoubled ray!"

Let us proceed in the settlement of the unfortunate controversies in which we find ourselves involved in a spirit of mutual conciliation and concession. Let us invoke fervently upon our efforts the blessing of that Almighty Being who is "the author of peace and the lover of concord." And we shall still find order springing out of confusion, harmony evoked from discord, and Peace, Union, and Liberty, once more reassured to our land!

THE DEATH OF PRESIDENT TAYLOR.

A SPEECH DELIVERED IN THE HOUSE OF REPRESENTATIVES OF THE UNITED STATES, ON THE ANNOUNCEMENT OF THE DEATH OF GENERAL TAYLOR, JULY 10, 1850.

It would not be easily excused, Mr. Speaker, by those whom I represent in this Hall, if there were no Massachusetts voice to respond to the eulogy which has been pronounced by Louisiana upon her illustrious and lamented son. Indeed, neither my personal feelings nor my political relations, either to the living or to the dead, would permit me to remain altogether silent on this occasion. And yet, Sir, I confess, I know not how to say any thing satisfactory to myself, or suitable to the circumstances of the hour. *

The event which has just been officially announced, has come. upon us so suddenly - has so overwhelmed us with mingled emotions of surprise and sadness-that all ordinary forms of expression seem to lose their significance, and one would fain bow his head to the blow in silence, until its first shock has in some degree passed away.

Certainly, Sir, no one can fail to realize that a most momentous and mysterious Providence has been manifested in our midst. At a moment when, more than almost ever before in our history, the destinies of our country seemed, to all human sight, to be inseparably associated with the character and conduct of its Chief Executive Magistrate, that Magistrate has been summoned from his post, by the only messenger whose mandates he might not have defied, and has been withdrawn forever from the sphere of human existence!

There are those of us, I need not say, Sir, who had looked to him with affection and reverence as our chosen leader and guide in the difficulties and perplexities by which we are surrounded. There are those of us, who had relied confidently on him, as upon no other man, to uphold the Constitution and maintain the Union of the country in that future, upon which "shadows, clouds and darkness" may well be said to rest. And, as we now behold him, borne away by the hand of God from our sight, in the very hour of peril, we can hardly repress the exclamation, which was applied to the departing prophet of old: "My father, my father! the chariot of Israel and the horsemen thereof."

Let me not even seem to imply, however, that the death of General Taylor is any thing less than a national loss. There may be, and we know there is, in this event, a privileged and preeminent grief for his immediate family and relatives, to which we can only offer the assurance of our heartfelt sympathy. There is, too, a peculiar sorrow for his political friends and supporters, which we would not affect to conceal. But the whole people of the United States will feel, and will bear witness, when they receive these melancholy tidings, that they have all been called to sustain a most afflicting national bereavement.

I hazard nothing, Sir, in saying, that the roll of our Chief Magistrates, since 1789, illustrious as it is, presents the name of no man who has enjoyed a higher reputation with his contemporaries, or who will enjoy a higher reputation with posterity, than Zachary Taylor, for some of the best and noblest qualities which adorn our nature.

His indomitable courage, his unimpeachable honesty, his Spartan simplicity and sagacity, his frankness, kindness, moderation, and magnanimity, his fidelity to his friends, his generosity and humanity to his enemies, the purity of his private life, the patriotism of his public principles, will never cease to be cherished in the grateful remembrance of all just men and all truehearted Americans.

As a Soldier and a General, his fame is associated with some of the proudest and most thrilling scenes of our military history. He may be literally said to have conquered every enemy he has met, save only that last enemy, to which we must all, in turn, surrender.

As a Civilian and Statesman, during the brief period in which he has been permitted to enjoy the transcendent honors which a grateful country had awarded him, he has given proof of a devotion to duty, of an attachment to the Constitution and the Union, of a patriotic determination to maintain the peace of our country, which no trials or temptations could shake. He has borne his faculties meekly, but firmly. He has been "clear in his great office." He has known no local partialities or prejudices, but has proved himself capable of embracing his whole country, in the comprehensive affections and regards of a large and generous heart.

But he has fallen almost at the threshold of his civil career, and at a moment when some of us were looking to him to render services to the country, which we had thought no other man could perform. Certainly, Sir, he has died too soon for every body but himself. We can hardly find it in our hearts to repine that the good old man has gone to his rest. We would not disturb the repose in which the brave old soldier sleeps. His part in life had been long and faithfully performed. In his own last words, “he had always done his duty, and he was not afraid to die." But our regrets for ourselves and for our country are deep, strong, and unfeigned. "He should have died hereafter."

Sir, it was a fit and beautiful circumstance in the close of such a career, that his last official appearance was at the celebration of the birthday of our National Independence, and more especially, that his last public act was an act of homage to the memory of him, whose example he had ever revered and followed, and who, as he himself so well said, "was, by so many titles, the Father of his Country."

And now, Mr. Speaker, let us hope that this event may teach us all how vain is our reliance upon any arm of flesh. Let us hope that it may impress us with a solemn sense of our national as well as individual dependence on a higher than human Power. Let us remember that "the Lord is king, be the people never so impatient; that He sitteth between the cherubim, be the earth never so unquiet." Let us, in language which is now hallowed to us all, as having been the closing and crowning sentiment of the brief but admirable Inaugural Address with which this illus