All the speakers united in renouncing old party ties. None did this better than C.F. Adams, who concluded his remarks by saying: "Forgetting the things that are behind, I propose that we press forward to the high calling of our new occupation; and, fellow-citizens, whatever may be the fate of you or me, all I can now add is to repeat the words of one with whom I take pride in remembering that I have been connected: 'Sink or swim, live or die, survive or perish,' to go with the liberties of my country is my fixed determination." To these words Mr. Sumner alluded at the beginning of his speech. MR. PRESIDENT AND FELLOW-CITIZENS:-- At the close of a day crowded with exciting interest and full of best auguries, I feel that I can add little to what you have already heard. What can I say that shall enforce the great cause so successfully commended by my friend from Ohio [Mr. GIDDINGS], and, lastly, by my friend [Mr. ADAMS] who has just spoken, with the voice of the American Revolution on his lips? One thing, at least, I can do: I can join them in renunciation of party relations, so plainly inconsistent with the support of Freedom. They have been Whigs; and I, too, have been a Whig, though "not an ultra Whig." I was a Whig because I thought this party represented the moral sentiments of the country,--that it was the party of Humanity. It has ceased to sustain this character. It represents no longer the moral sentiments of the country. It is not the party of Humanity. A party which renounces its sentiments must expect to be renounced. In the coming contest I wish it understood that I belong to the party of Freedom,--to that party which plants itself on the Declaration of Independence and the Constitution of the United States. The transactions in which we are now engaged recall an incident of French history. It was late in the night, at Versailles, that a courtier of Louis the Sixteenth, penetrating the bed-chamber of his master, and arousing him from slumber, communicated the intelligence, big with destiny, that the people of Paris, smarting under wrong and falsehood, had risen in their might, and, after a severe conflict with hireling troops, destroyed the Bastile. The unhappy monarch, turning upon his couch, said, "It is an _insurrection_." "No, Sire," answered the honest courtier, "it is a _revolution_." And such is our movement to-day. It is a REVOLUTION,--not beginning with the destruction of a Bastile, but destined to end only with the overthrow of a tyranny differing little in hardship and audacity from that which sustained the Bastile of France,--I mean the Slave Power of our country. Do not start at this similitude. I intend no unkindness to slaveholders, many of whom are doubtless humane and honest. Such also was Louis the Sixteenth; and yet he sustained the Bastile, with the untold horrors of its dungeons, where human beings were thrust into companionship with toads and rats.