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ts death put all power in the hands of the party which brought upon the country the issues which terminated in war. The writer of this had been a Whig, and felt the keen pang of mortification at beholding that powerful organization, in which he had put so much faith, melt away, like snow before the sun, and pass into the creeks and the rivers and the subterranean streams. It went down in the great flood, like a big ship, leaving nothing visible but the top, of its tall masts. Yes, and Washington Hunt, with a few personal friends, climbed up there and cried out to the storm for help; but they were considered crazy and were not heeded. The voice of this "last man" finally died away, and he, of course, was to be considered politically dead. Supposing that had the Whig party remained firm, the war might have been, at least, postponed, the regret at its fate was all the more poignant. To enter more particularly into the discussion may be a matter of complacency with our contempora