of things arising from the interference of some of the States in defeating the operation of the Constitution in respect to the restoration of fugitive slaves.  I saw these things, and I made up my mind to encounter whatever might betide me in the attempt to avert the impending catastrophe.  And allow me to add something which is not entirely unworthy of notice.  A member of the House of Representatives told me that he had prepared a list of one hundred and forty speeches which had been made in Congress on the slavery question.  “That is a very large number, my friend,” I said; “but how is that?” “Why,” said he, “a Northern man gets up and speaks with considerable power and fluency until the Speaker’s hammer knocks him down.  Then gets up a Southern man, and he speaks with more warmth.  He is nearer the sun, and he comes out with the greater fervor against the North.  He speaks his hour, and is in turn knocked down.  And so it has gone on, until I have got one hundred and forty speeches on my list.”  “Well,” said I, “where are they, and what are they?” “If the speaker,” said he, “was a Northern man, he held forth against slavery; and if he was from the South, he abused the North; and all these speeches were sent by the members to their own localities, where they served only to aggravate the local irritation already existing.  No man reads both sides.  The other side of the argument is not heard; and the speeches sent from Washington in such prodigious numbers, instead of tending to conciliation, do but increase, in both sections of the Union, an excitement already of the most dangerous character.”

Gentlemen, in this state of things, I saw that something must be done.  It was impossible to look with indifference on a danger of so formidable a character.  I am a Massachusetts man, and I bore in mind what Massachusetts has ever been to the Constitution and the Union.  I felt the importance of the duty which devolved upon one to whom she had so long confided the trust of representing her in either house of Congress.  As I honored her, and respected her, I felt that I was serving her in my endeavors to promote the welfare of the whole country.

And now suppose, Gentlemen, that, on the occasion in question, I had taken a different course.  If I may allude so particularly to an individual so insignificant as myself, suppose that, on the 7th of March, 1850, instead of making a speech that would, so far as my power went, reconcile the country, I had joined in the general clamor of the Antislavery party.  Suppose I had said, “I will have nothing to do with any accommodation; we will admit no compromise; we will let Texas invade New Mexico; we will leave New Mexico and Utah to take care of themselves; we will plant ourselves on the Wilmot Proviso, let the consequences be what they may.”  Now, Gentlemen, I do not mean to say that great consequences would have followed from such a course on my part; but suppose I had taken such a course.  How could