now yawning in fearful chasms, now placid and serene-no impotent Xerxes with his paper constitutions can bind it in fetters, nor Canute with his penal statutes limit the swelling of its waves. The stream cannot be raised higher nor made more pure than the fountain, nor the constitution and laws of a State excel in strength or wisdom the great body of its people. Laws may punish vice, but it is not their office to force the growth of virtue. The security of a State rests in the sound morality and intelligence of those who compose it; and when these safeguards fail, the problem of self-government will be finally solved, for paper laws will prove a delusive mockery. No standing armies, no bristling bayonets, no naval armaments can quicken the pulsations of liberty or measure the heart-throbs of emancipated man. Religion, virtue, intelligence, point the pathway of duty and assure us of the rewards which await their votaries. During the last century, an eminent lawyer of the Old World, by the feeble and flickering light of liberty which forced its way through the cracks and crannies of a stultified system of monarchy, caught up the true inspiration, and by pregnant interrogatory and answer (which, though worn with time and service, are always new), well declared the true principles of a government of laws: "What constitutes a State?

Not high-raised battlement or labored mound,
Thick wall or moated gate;

Not cities proud, with spires and turrets crowned;
Not huge and broad-armed ports,

Where, laughing at the storm, rich navies ride;
Not starred and spangled courts,

Where low-browed baseness wafts perfume to pride.
No! Men-high-minded Men,

With powers as far above dull brutes endued,

In forest, brake, or den,

As beasts excel cold brakes or brambles rude:

Men, who their duties know,

But know their rights, and knowing dare maintain;
Prevent the long-aimed blow,

And crush the tyrant while they rend the chain.

These constitute a State:

And sovereign law, that State's collected will,
O'er thrones and globes elate,

Sits empress, crowning good, repressing ill."

REMARKS

AT THE LAYING OF THE CORNER-STONE OF THE N. Y. STATE INE

BRIATE ASYLUM, AT BINGHAMTON, N. Y., September 24, 1858,

INTRODUCING TO THE AUDIENCE HON. EDWARD EVERETT.

[After the Masonic Ceremonies and Opening Remarks by the President of the Association, and Addresses by Dr. John W. Francis and Rev. Dr. Henry W. Bellows of New York, the President, Hon. Benjamin F. Butler, in continuance of the proceedings, said: "There is a resident of this village who has taken a great interest in this enterprise; who has held a high place in the government of this State, and a still higher place in the government of this Union, who, I am sure, will be listened to with great pleasure, not only by his own fellow-citizens of the town of Binghamton, but also by the men who have come from distant places-some from the very end of the State. I introduce to you my friend, the Hon. Daniel S. Dickinson."]

Mr. Dickinson said:

MR. PRESIDENT, FELLOW-CITIZENS-Upon an introduction so kind and generous, it gives me great pleasure to speak, that I may welcome with my whole heart this vast audience, and the numerous distinguished gentlemen who, having contributed of their influence and substance for the inauguration of this institution, sacred to the cause of philanthropy, have come hither to participate in laying, with becoming ceremonies, its moral and material foundation. Time will not permit me to speak of the benefits and blessings which are destined to flow from the Inebriate Asylum for the frail, erring children of humanitynor to tell of the pure, gushing life-streams this great fountain of good is to send forth, to refresh and fertilize the bleak and barren waste of intemperance-nor to point to the inebriated maniac, who shall, by its Heaven-born influences, be clothed again in his right mind-nor of the prodigal son, who, covered

with vice and rags, shall, through its ministrations, arise and go to his father.

If the great army of intemperance-those who are dying under the influence of this remorseless destroyer-those who are becoming lawless outcasts-those who commit, or associate with crime, by reason of intoxicating draughts-should march together in solid column, the earth itself would heave, and throb, and tremble under their tread, as though moved by the convulsions of a volcano! To arrest the progress of this terrible element, Philanthropy, in her ceaseless effort for fallen man, erects this institution. How many fathers are looking on with a parent's painfully anxious solicitude! How many wives and mothers will reverently kneel and pray to the Father in Heaven that this effort may be blest! Oh! how many children will raise their little hands in prayer for its success, that the monster, intemperance, may never come to torment them before their time, and curse with blood and tears the lustre of their birth-star!

But I must pause, for I am forgetting that, among all the distinguished here, there is one pre-eminent upon this platform -one who came upon another errand, but has kindly consented to honor us by his presence-one who is known wherever the philanthropic heart has throbbed, wherever learning, eloquence, or statesmanship are known, or civilization has travelled; and I shall best serve you by closing my remarks, and introducing to you EDWARD EVERETT.

SPEECH

DELIVERED AT THE DEMOCRATIC STATE CONVENTION, HELD AT

WEITING HALL, SYRACUSE, N. Y., September 14, 1859.

[The New York Democratic State Convention of Sept., 1859, was called by the State Committee to nominate a State ticket and appoint delegates to the National Convention, to be held at Charleston, in April, 1860. There was then but a single organization of the Democratic party in the State, and a majority of the State Central Committee represented what had been, in the days of the party divisions, the "Barnburner," or "Free-soil" and "Soft" interest. Pending the call, two questions were raised in opposition to what seemed to be the purpose of the Committee-one that the time selected was too early for the appointment of the delegates to the National Convention, the other that, except those to represent the State at large, the delegates ought to be appointed by the Democrats of the several Congressional Districts, and not by a State Convention; and a somewhat spirited canvass for delegates to the State Convention was conducted, and contesting delegations from some counties, and particularly from the city of New York, were elected. Mr. Dickinson, and a portion of the party of those known as his friends, did not participate in this contest on either side; another portion of his friends, with others, took part against the policy of the State Committee. The view taken by him of the subject was, that as the party, since 1856 at least, had ostensibly been united upon a common platform, there ought not to be a division and a double delegation to Charleston, nullifying the influence of the State; as had been the case in former National Conventions, when the party was divided at home, especially upon personal considerations, or mere questions of policy. Besides, he believed that the vote of New York would be necessary for the election of any Democratic candidate to the Presidency, and he knew that no such candidate could hope to receive the vote of the State who should be nominated in opposition to, or without the concurrence of, the party interest which was in harmony with the majority of the State Committee. From the political signs of the times, and aside from any personal feeling he might have had, from being prominently and widely named as a candidate, he saw the

necessity and felt the greatest anxiety that a National Democrat should be elected to the next Presidential term. He therefore firmly determined that, as the State Committee interest would have and doubtless exercise the power to control the action of the State at the electionthat is, to make it adverse when otherwise it might be favorable— they should have, as far as he was concerned, the undoubted responsibility of all the preliminaries as well as of the result. He was resolved, too, not to be thrown into a false or questionable position, and as there were indications of a contest at the State Convention, he attended personally, though not a delegate, to use his influence in favor of conciliation and a united delegation. A collision occurred, however, upon the question of organization, which shaped the whole character of the Convention. A double organization was partially effected, two chairmen being in position and attempting to act at the same time, when the Chairman nominated on behalf of the State Committee was forcibly thrown from the platform by a person not a delegate, but alleged to be a bully acting under the procurement of some one on the other side. The assaulted chairman, with a portion of the delegates, thereupon left the hall. The adherents of the other organization continued their proceedings a short time and adjourned, when the ejected chairman returned and called to order. So gross had been the outrage upon him and upon the Convention, so revolting to the sense of every friend of decency and order, and so marked was the feeling of condemnation, that a large majority of the delegates,-almost all, except some who were elected as contestants-answered to their names, and took part in the Convention as thus organized. (Delegates to Charleston were appointed by this Convention. Contesting delegates were subsequently elected under the other organization, but they were not admitted to the National Convention, and the State Committee delegation was in no way embarrassed in its action by their claim to seats.) Soon after the interruption and reassembling above described, the Convention, on motion of a member, passed a resolution inviting Mr. Dickinson to a seat, and appointed a committee to communicate the invitation and conduct him to the hall. His reception is thus noticed in the published proceedings: "At this moment Daniel S. Dickinson appeared, and the Convention sprang to its feet, both in the gallery and hall, and the cheering for several minutes, as he advanced to and took his seat on the platform, was deafening. Loud calls of 'Dickinson,' 'Dickinson,' rang from every part of the hall, when Mr. Dickinson arose and spoke as follows: "-]

MR. CHAIRMAN AND FELLOW-CITIZENS-I am exceedingly gratified to see, at a time of such an interesting crisis in the Democratic party, so many good and true men who are en