C. Edwards Lester, Life and public services of Charles Sumner: Born Jan. 6, 1811. Died March 11, 1874.

[372] general was short, though shining. * * He died with his face to the foe—and he died so instantly that he passed from the service of his country to the service of his God. It is sweet and becoming to die for country: such a death, sudden, but not unprepared for, is the crown of the patriot soldier.

But the question is painfully asked, who was the author of this tragedy, now filling the Senate Chamber, as it has already filled the country, with mourning? There is a strong desire to hold somebody responsible, where so many perish so unprofitably. But we need not appoint committees or study testimony, to know precisely who took this precious life. That great criminal is easily detected, still erect and defiant, without concealment or disguise. The guns, the balls, the men that fired them, are of little importance. It is the Power behind all, saying, ‘The State; it is I,’ that took this precious life: and this power is Slavery. The nine balls that slew our departed brother, came from Slavery. Every gaping wound of his slashed bosom, testifies against Slavery. Every drop of his generous blood cries out from the ground against Slavery. The brain so rudely shattered, has its own voice; and the tongue so suddenly silenced in death, speaks now, with more than living eloquence. To hold others responsible is to hold the dwarf agent, and dismiss the giant principal. Nor shall we do great service, if, merely criticising some local blunder, we leave untouched that fatal forbearance through which the weakness of the Rebellion is changed into strength, and the strength of our armies is changed into weakness.

May our grief to-day be no hollow pageant, nor expend itself in this funeral pomp! It must become a motive, an impulse to patriot action. But patriotism itself, that commanding charity, embracing so many other charities, is only a name, and nothing else, unless we resolve calmly, plainly, solemnly, that Slavery, the barbarous enemy of our country, the irreconcilable foe of our Union, the violator of our Constitution, the disturber of our peace, the vampire of our national life, the assassin of our children, and the murderer of our dead Senator, shall be struck down. And the way is easy. The just avenger is at hand, with weapon of celestial temper: let it be drawn. Until this is done, the patriot, discerning clearly the secret of our weakness, can only say, sorrowfully—

Bleed, bleed, poor country!
Great tyranny, lay thou thy basis sure,
For goodness dares not check thee!