Society, before which Mr. Webster had delivered a brief address.
After the final vote--twenty-four years and nineteen nays--had been
taken, Mr. Benton moved that the Secretary carry into effect the
order of the Senate. Then the Secretary, Mr. Asbury Dickens,
opening the manuscript journal of 1834, drew broad black lines
around the obnoxious resolution and wrote across its face: "Expunged
by order of the Senate, this 16th day of January, in the year of
our Lord 1837."

No sooner had he concluded than hisses were heard, and Mr. King,
of Alabama, who occupied the chair, ordered the galleries to be
cleared, while Mr. Benton, in a towering rage, denounced the
offenders and demanded their arrest. "Here is one," said he, "just
above me, that may be easily be identified--the bank ruffian."
Mr. King revoked his order to clear the galleries, but directed
the arrest of the person pointed out by Mr. Benton, who was soon
brought before the bar of the Senate. It was Mr. Lloyd, a practicing
lawyer in Cleveland, Ohio, who was not permitted to say a word in
his own defense, but was soon discharged, after which the Senate
adjourned.

[Facsimile]
Thomas H. Benton
THOMAS HART BENTON was born near Hillsborough, North Carolina,
March 14th, 1782; was United States Senator from Missouri, 1821-
1851; a Representative in Congress from Missouri, 1853-1855; was
defeated as a candidate for re-election to Congress in 1854, and
as candidate for Governor of Missouri in 1856, and died at Washington
City, April 10th, 1858.

CHAPTER X.
PROMINENT MEN OF JACKSON'S TIME.

Henry Clay, after his return to the Senate, was the recognized
leader of the Whig Senators, for he would recognize no leader.
His oratory was persuasive and spirit-stirring. The fire of his
bright eyes and the sunny smile which lighted up his countenance
added to the attractions of his unequaled voice, which was equally
distinct and clear, whether at its highest key or lowest whisper--
rich, musical, captivating. His action was the spontaneous offspring
of the passing thought. He gesticulated all over. The nodding of
his head, hung on a long neck, his arms, hands, fingers, feet, and
even his spectacles, his snuff-box, and his pocket-handkerchief,
aided him in debate. He stepped forward and backward, and from
the right to the left, with effect. Every thought spoke; the whole
body had its story to tell, and added to the attractions of his
able arguments. But he was