that has closed itself against those great and generous emotions which would unite it in joy and grief with so many thousand kindred souls, pity for the sullen miseries of a barren heart. But to reason with them would be in vain, for we cannot follow them into the sombre and tangled mazes of their motives. We must leave them to the infamy they have chosen for themselves. [Loud applause.]
But to you, whose hearts are still open to the entreaties of your hopefully struggling country, but whose eyes are clouded by party spirit, or by the false pride of preconceived opinions, or by little resentments, to you I address this last appeal. There is the great destiny of your Republic; the warmest enthusiasm of your hearts for it cannot be too fiery, your deepest prayers for it cannot be too pressing. You see it before you. The means by which it can be achieved I have pointed out to you; no, not that, I have only reminded you of them, for your own common sense, your own experience, the unanimous opinion of this century, your own consciences, point them out. These means are powerful, but plain, direct, and simple; and in their grand directness and simplicity worthy of the tremendous object to be achieved. And now you come with your puny tricks and shifts of compromise? Now, you can find comfort for your souls in the pusillanimous, dangerous, pernicious expedient of the weak and shaky, to do things by halves? Now, you can parade petty grievances before the world and raise the silly cry of despotism, a cry so silly that those who raise if cannot meet each other in the street without smiling? Now, in the face of this tremendous stake, you resort to your little cunning contrivances to confuse the minds of the people, merely to gain an advantage for a party? Now, you cannot set your heel upon the contemptible ranklings of per-
