“This is no political ovation. The Chief Marshal of the procession announces that no political mottoes will be admitted into the ranks. By the same sense of propriety I am admonished that no political phrases are appropriate here.
“This is the spontaneous outpouring of your friends and neighbors and fellow-citizens to welcome you from your field of intellectual victory,—and to welcome you also from your bed of pain and suffering. I cordially add my tribute, humble, save what my official station imparts to it, to crown the just and welcome offering.
“We hail you with warm hearts, not only as the eloquent orator, the accomplished scholar, and the acknowledged statesman,—not only as the earnest friend of suffering humanity and of every good cause,—not only as one who, educated in the institutions and by the altars and firesides of Massachusetts, has won for himself imperishable laurels on the arena of the nation’s conflicts,—but especially now do we welcome you as the successful defender of her integrity and her honor. [Cheers.]
“In her name I declare that the base and cowardly blows which fell on you struck through you into her. Within the circuit of the sun’s flight after I heard of that assault, before such an assemblage as rarely gathers in Faneuil Hall, I pledged Massachusetts to stand by you. [Loud applause.]
“And she does stand by you to-day. She will stand by you to-morrow [enthusiastic cheers]; and she will stand by you in her defence forever. [Loud cheering.]
“I welcome you, then, most cordially and warmly, in her name, again to her borders. Every thrilling breast and kindling countenance around you in this immense throng welcomes you,—Boston welcomes you,—Massachusetts welcomes you.
“In her name I trust that the quiet of your home may speedily restore you to perfect health, so you can again go forward to your sphere of duty, to new achievements, and new victories.
“And now, Gentlemen, fellow-citizens, one word to you. The duty of the day over, let us, one and all, leave our distinguished friend to the undisturbed quiet of his own home, to the fond caress of one whose ear is at this moment bent in anxious watching for the earliest warning of his approach, that he may there recover, not only from his past illness, but from the present excitement and the fatigues of travel. At present our kindest attentions will consist in scrupulously avoiding exacting intrusions.
“To you, Sir, again, in the name of our glorious old Commonwealth, I extend a cordial welcome. [Loud cheers.]”
Three times three cheers were then given for Mr. Sumner, who attempted to reply; but his voice was more feeble than in replying to Mr. Quincy. He spoke, with great difficulty, as follows.