“Last year, while in England, I had the honor of meeting
many gentlemen of your acquaintance, and, amid the many
bitter things I was compelled to listen to, it was a
source of constant satisfaction and pride to hear them
acknowledge the great confidence they reposed in you, and
the earnest wish they expressed for the success of that
_novus ordo sæclorum_ in the Senate, for which we are so
much indebted to you. Reading over for the third time your
famous Kansas speech, of May, 1856,[7] this morning, I was
struck with the almost prophetic character of its language.
The crime against Nature has indeed culminated. It struck
you down, and then went dancing like a maniac, all the
while approaching that bottomless abyss into which it is
now descending. Can you doubt that Nemesis still wields her
sword and flaming torch?”
These expressions of sympathy and good-will, overflowing from
opposite quarters, are a proper prelude to other utterances,
widely different in tone, aroused against Mr. Sumner by the
very persistency of his course. Appearing in their proper
place, these will be better comprehended from knowing already
the other side.