Mr. President, it is not uncommon to hear persons among us at the North confess the wrong of Slavery, and then, folding the hands in absolute listlessness, ejaculate, “What can we do about it?” Such we encounter daily. You all know them. Among them are men in every department of human activity,--who perpetually buy, build, and plan,--who shrink from no labor,--who are daunted by no peril of commercial adventure, by no hardihood of industrial enterprise,--who, reaching in their undertakings across ocean and continent, would promise to “put a girdle round about the earth in forty minutes”; and yet, disheartened, they can join in no effort against Slavery. Others there are, especially among the youthful and enthusiastic, who vainly sigh because they were not born in the age of Chivalry, or at least in the days of the Revolution, not thinking that in this Enterprise there is opportunity for lofty endeavor such as no Paladin of Chivalry or chief of the Revolution enjoyed. Others there are who freely bestow means and time upon distant, inaccessible heathen of another hemisphere, in islands of the sea; and yet they can do nothing to mitigate our graver heathenism here at home. While confessing that it ought to disappear from the earth, they forego, renounce, and abandon all effort to this end. Others there are still (such is human inconsistency!) who plant the tree in whose full-grown shade they can never expect to sit,--who hopefully drop the acorn in the earth, trusting that the oak which it sends upward to the skies will shelter their children beneath its shade; but they do nothing to plant or nurture the great tree of Liberty, that it may shield with its arms unborn generations of men.