ain, unadorned language, and free from hesitation. The only
opportunity offered for eloquence was, after the inauguration, on the
discussion of the Clayton-Bulwer Treaty. I will not say that the
venerable senator for Delaware--Mr. Clayton--was eloquent, but he was
very clear both in language and delivery, and his bearing altogether
showed the honest conviction of a man who knew he was in the right, and
was certain he would be ultimately so judged. His principal antagonist
was the senator for Illinois--Mr. Douglas--one of the stars of the Young
American party, and an aspirant to the presidential honours of the
Republic. He is a stout-built man, rather short, with a massive
overhanging forehead. When he rose, he did so with the evident
consciousness that the gallery above him was filled with many of his
political school, and thrusting both hands well into the bottom of his
breeches pockets, he commenced his oration with an air of great
self-confidence, occasionally drawing one hand from its concealment to
aid his oratory by significant gesture. He made an excellent
clap-trap--or, as they term it in America, Buncombe--speech, aiding and
emphasizing, by energetic shakings of the forefinger, such passages as
he thought would tell in the gallery above; his voice was loud and
clear, his language blunt and fluent, and amusingly replete with "dares
and daren't;" "England's in the wrong, and she knows it;" if the
original treaty, by which America was to have had the canal exclusively,
had been concluded, "America would have had a rod to hold over all the
nations." Then came "manifest destiny;" then the mare's nest called
"Monroe doctrine;" then more Buncombe about England; and then ... he sat
down--satisfied, no doubt, that he had very considerably increased his
chances for the "tenancy of the White House."

I regretted much not being able to hear Mr. Everett speak, for I believe
he is admitted on all hands to be the most eloquent and classical orator
within the precincts of the senate at the present moment; but I was
obliged to leave Washington before he addressed the assembly. The
absence of all signs of approbation or disapprobation, while a senator
is addressing the House, gives a coldness to the debate, and I should
think must have a damping effect upon the enthusiasm of the speaker. The
"Hear hears" and "cheers" of friends, and the "Oh ohs" or "laughter" of
opponents, certainly give an air of much greater excitement to the