The infanthry advancing, These four were then led out, And a numerous rabble rout,— Their pieces they presented, Their tinder brists they enthered, While many sorre lamenthed, To see these matchless four Lie speechless in their gore, For the want of edication, And equal toleration, Throughout this Irish nation, I dhrop my trimbling quill." Add to this the shouts, oaths, and songs, of the other prisoners, and ye have an idea of what I endure,-not to speak of the occasional clang of bolts and bars. I am well again; at least, I am free from pain. Let us try the dumb bells. I cannot lift them. What a falling off is here! It is all nonsense to sentence prisoners to hard labor in the common jail. There is a boy in this range, for robbing the Post-office of eight thousand dollars. Wonder what would become of some of the officers of the department, if all who rob it were thus treated? The said boy is sentenced for two years to hard labor. He is the child of two of "the finest pisintry in the worruld." He has a comrade, and to judge by the noise they make, there is little hard labor going on betwixt them. They seem to be constantly employed in amusing themselves. Such oaths, such blasphemies, such obscene exclamations! Verily, the lad has an able teacher, and is in a hopeful way of being reformed. To-day, Mr. Durant goes up in his balloon, and I shall not have the satisfaction to gape and stare at him, like others. I am mistaken -there he comes, across the small spot of sky within the compass of my vision, about a mile high. A thousand shakes of the dice-box of Destiny would not produce such another "concatenation accordingly." His balloon looks about as big as a pigeon's egg, and himself almost as great as a fly. I can see him wave his flag very distinctly. I wish I were with him. Yet, after all, of what use is this sailing in the air? Cui Bono? Yet some of our poets have gained notoriety by getting above the clouds; and, if they be allowed to fly with paper wings, why should not Durant do the same with silken ones ? Seventy-two days have passed, and the Governor and Council, in their infinite goodness and mercy, have seen fit to let me forth. Thank them and bless them, and doubly be thanked the excellent friends who have moved them to this desirable consummation. If he who learns nothing by experience is a fool, then am I a fool. I come out the same in mind, though not exactly so in body, as I came in. Morning after my liberation. The person whom I am now meeting, is the cook of the jail, going after the doctor. He tells me that one of the pirates, now awaiting trial, has committed suicide. I will go and see the body. The man is a handsome man, and was a desperate one. He has attempted to beat out his own brains with the cover of his tub, whence has arisen that contusion on his broad forehead. Next, he has broken his window with his bare elbow, and cut a considerable piece out of his arm, in so doing. He has made three several cuts at his throat, with the broken glass. The first has failed. The second and third have been horribly successful. The wound is most ghastly. Well, in such circumstances, suicide is confession. Peace to his manes, after the surgeon's knife has done with them. Death pays all W. J. S. accounts. TO A LADY. AH! surely, if the soul of Song Your charms!-what more to swell his lay I-who once raved of raven locks, And quailed before a sparkling eye- My habits are correct and plain, I never promise to adore I talk of failures and hard times; The fire poetic burns not now Within my intellectual veins; How can it when e'en such as thou O then, forgive me, if the theme C. 372 ETCHINGS OF THE SENATE. NEVER were the eyes of a nation fixed more intently upon a legislative body, than were those of the American people upon the Senate during the last session of Congress. The exciting questions upon which they were called to act, the repeated petitions for relief, by which they were besieged from all parts of the country, the extraordinary attitude, in which they stood, of opposition to the House and to the Executive-all combined to render their proceedings interesting and momentous. And though the relief which was prayed for, they could not grant, and though baffled in their exertions to restore confidence and prosperity, yet the firmness with which they rallied around our assailed constitution, and preserved their stand, must long be gratefully remembered by the reflecting portion of the people. For several months the Senate Chamber was the great point of attraction to all visiters at Washington, and the seats for spectators were crowded to an unparalleled excess. The general stagnation of business afforded many classes of citizens leisure to quit their homes; and strangers from all quarters of the union daily poured into the metropolis. Among those who contributed to make up the throng was myself; and, though my stay was brief, I was fortunate enough to hear the principal speakers on the floor of the Senate. That precious document, the Protest of the President, was the order of the day when I arrived; but much time was also occupied in the presentation of memorials, and in discussions upon the deranged state of the currency. The first person who caught my eye, on entering the Senate Chamber by the middle door, was the Vice-President, who, with his hands in his pockets, was jauntily pacing the area, and bowing complacently to some ladies of his acquaintance. It cannot be denied that this personage is au fait in matters of dress and fashion; but the smirks and grimaces of a petit-maître contrast oddly with the gravity and decorum of a deliberative assembly. All at once, I saw the little man approach his table, and rap on it with a small ivory bâton. The effect was electric. Silence immediately ensued; and a prayer from the chaplain opened the session. The proceedings of the day before were then read by the clerk. I was soon after startled at hearing from the VicePresident, the words, "The gentleman from Massachusetts," and, turning, I perceived that Daniel Webster had risen to speak. His remarks, however, were brief, though delivered with his usual impressive eloquence. They were upon the presentation of a memorial from some county in Pennsylvania. I afterwards heard his sublime speech upon the Protest, and never were the powers of human oratory more triumphantly displayed than by him on that occasion. Mr. Webster's strength lies not in appeals to the feelings or to the imaginations of his hearers, but in the manner in which he brings out his strong phalanx of arguments, and displays them to the reasonthe noblest faculty of the human mind. His intonation is deep, and his action elegant and dignified. His phraseology is pure, manly, and unincumbered with those tinsel ornaments, to which some of our orators descend. He is less successful as the haranguer of a popular and excited assembly, than as the expounder of constitutional law or Still the repeller of executive aggression in the seat which he honors. does he sometimes introduce into his speeches bursts of eloquence, which stir the heart like the voice of a trumpet, and are the more stirring because unexpected. But the weapons of fair and unembellished argument are those which he generally employs, while we see that much of his force is in reserve. Mr. Clay was often engaged in light skirmishes with Forsyth, and others of the administration party, during my attendance on the debates. In these encounters the Senator from Kentucky invariably came off victorious. His imperturbable good humor frequently gave him an advantage over his antagonists. I remember that, on one occasion, when he was replying to a somewhat heated opponent, a sudden squall came up and rattled the window-curtains, so as to produce a considerable noise. The orator stopped short in the midst of his remarks, and inquired, aloud, what was the matter; and then, as if divining the cause of the disturbance, he said-" Storms seem to be coming in upon us from all sides." The observation, though trivial as related, was highly amusing under the circumstances which gave rise to it, and from the manner in which it was uttered. Mr. Clay rarely fails to rivet the attention of his audience, and to reward it. His enunciation is clear and melodious, and he expresses strongly what he deeply feels. He is not over cautious in his choice of phrases and epithets, when speaking of the usurpations of the present incumbent of the presidential chair, or of the "lean and hungry parasites," who flatter and mislead him. He is always happy in his illustrations, and no one can tell a good story with better effect. He possesses the highest qualifications of a genuine orator. I heard Mr. Calhoun once or twice in the Senate. He is not a frequent speaker, but is always listened to with interest and with delight. He is rapid in his utterance, and is too apt, in his eagerness, to leave parts of his words behind him but half enunciated. He has been accused of being metaphysical, but the charge is unjust. His speeches do not drag their slow length along to the usual Congressional extent, but are lucid and forcible without being diffuse. He does not hammer upon his arguments as if he thought the apprehension of his hearers was of the nature of an anvil, but generally offers such as do not need much enforcement or elucidation. Mr. Calhoun's personal appearance would at once impress a stranger with the conviction, that he was an extraordinary man. He is somewhat tall and slim in stature, although a not ungraceful stoop detracts from his height. He manifests a schoolboy negligence of dress. His forehead is prominent and intellectual, jutting over a pair of full, lustrous gray eyes, which beam with the soul's fire. His chin, if physiognomy may be trusted, denotes firmness. His face is indented with premature wrinkles, and, at times, when shaded with intense thought, its severity reminds one of the chiseled features of some antique sage. But when lighted up with the animation of social intercourse, its expression is benignant and attractive. In conversation Mr. Calhoun is unrivaled. He is earnest and eloquent without being dictatorial, and his ready affability, his entire destitution of pretence, his frankness and simplicity of manner, render him a favorite with all his personal acquaintances. His colleague, Mr. Preston, has, within the past year, taken no inconspicuous stand by his side among the foremost men in Congress. Mr. Preston is perhaps now the most popular and gifted speaker in the Senate. His rhetorical acquisitions are no doubt great; but nature has done more for him than art. To a mind imbued with elegant literature, and to powers of oratory confirmed by long practice, he unites a vigorous understanding and genius of a high order. His voice is flexible and richly-toned, and his management of it is perfect. His pronunciation is always classical and correct. He is profuse and animated in his gestures, and his style of delivery is energetic and thrillingly effective. Over the fluctuating sea of human passions and prejudices, he exercises the control of a Prospero; and, as he wills it, the waves tower and foam, or sink into the serenity of a noonday calm. He is an orator for great occasions, and, like his kinsman, Patrick Henry, he is most eloquent on the spur of the moment. Some of his most fortunate efforts have been those which were wholly unpremeditated; and his reported speeches convey an imperfect idea of their effect when spoken. He is a devoted Whig, and an uncompromising foe to the arbitrary measures of the present dynasty. In his personal appearance, Mr. Preston is tall and robust. He stands six feet and a fraction in his slippers, and is stout and well proportioned. His countenance is open and manly, with no prominent trait, and his complexion is somewhat florid. His hair-but candor compels me to admit that the orator, who attracts such general admiration, the observed of all observers-wears a wig. The circumstance would not be readily discovered, but he shows so little solicitude to conceal it, that often when speaking, he raises his hands to adjust his borrowed integument. Mr. Preston, like most of the warm-hearted gentlemen of the south, is a delightful companion, cordial in his manners, kind and unsuspicious in his intercourse, and high-minded in all his relations. He is a staunch nullifier, and, in the opinion of some, this caps the climax of his good qualities. Mr. Poindexter of Mississipi is useful and statesman-like in the station which he occupies. He is not a fluent or powerful speaker, but his remarks are usually pungent and sententious. He has a faculty of saying severe things in a quiet way and in a low tone of voice, as if he were uttering mere common-place. In this manner he often takes an adversary by surprise. He is untiring in his attention to legislative business, and, unlike many of his fraternity, shows an impatience to proceed with all possible despatch, and bring the session to a close. He is a fearless opponent of the recent aggressions of the President and his reckless advisers, and it is a very fair proof of his vigilance and integrity, that he has incurred their most bitter hatred. Among the most estimable members of the Senate is Judge Porter, of Louisiana. This gentleman is an Irishman by birth, and his father was one of that honorable band, who, with Emmet, fell victims to the cruelty of Ireland's oppressors, and paid, on the scaffold, the price of their devotion to liberty. The son has proved himself worthy of the blood from which he sprang, and which was spilled in so sacred a cause. In his adopted land he manifests the same hatred of tyrants and their tools, which subjected his parent to persecution unto death. Judge Porter is a true-hearted Whig. His opposition to the present administration is strong and decided, because, in the doctrines which |