My friend from New Jersey says that if this Convention does not prevent it, there must be war. I agree with him. War! what a fearful alternative to contemplate? War is a fearful calamity at best, sometimes necessary I admit, but always terrible. It cannot come to this country without a fearful expenditure of blood and treasure. It will leave us, if it leaves us a nation at all, with an awful legacy of widows' tears--of the blighted hopes of orphans--with a catalogue of suffering, misery, and woe, too long to be enumerated and too painful to be contemplated. For God's sake! let such a fate be averted at any cost, from the country. If it comes at all, it will be such a war as the world never saw. War is commonly, and almost universally, between nations foreign to each other--whose individuals are strangers to each other, and whose interests are widely separated. But we are a nation of brothers, of a common ancestry, and bound together by a thousand memories of the past--a thousand ties of interest and blood. It will be a war between brothers--between you who come to us in summer, and we who visit you in winter. It will be a war between those who have been connected in business--associated in pleasures, and who have met as brothers in the halls of legislation and the marts of commerce. Save us from such a war! Let not the mad anger of such a people be aroused. And, gentlemen, if war comes it must be long and terrible. You will see both parties rise in their majesty at both ends of the line. They will slough off every other consideration and devote themselves, with terrible energy, to the work of death. Oh ye! who bring such a calamity as this upon this once happy country! Pause, gentlemen, before you do it, and think of the fearful accountability that awaits you in time and in eternity.