not a good listener, and he would often
sit, while other Senators were speaking, eating sticks of striped
peppermint candy, and occasionally taking a pinch of snuff from a
silver box that he carried, or from one that graced the table of
the Senate.

Occasionally, Mr. Clay was very imperious and displayed bad temper
in debate. Once he endeavored to browbeat Colonel Benton, bringing
up "Old Bullion's" personal recontre with General Jackson, and
charging the former with having said that, should the latter be
elected President, Congress must guard itself with pistols and
dirks. This Colonel Benton pronounced "an atrocious calumny."
"What," retorted Mr. Clay, "can you look me in the face, sir, and
say that you never used that language?" "I look," said Colonel
Benton, "and repeat that it is an atrocious calumny, and I will
pin it to him who repeats it here." Mr. Clay's face flushed with
rage as he replied: "Then I declare before the Senate that you
said the very words!" "False! false! false!" shouted Colonel
Benton, and the Senators interfered, Mr. Tazewell, who was in the
chair, calling the belligerents to order. After some discussion
of the questions of order, Colonel Benton said: "I apologize to
the Senate for the manner in which I have spoken--but not to the
Senator from Kentucky." Mr. Clay promptly added: "To the Senate
I also offer an apology--to the Senator from Missouri, none!" Half
an hour afterwards they shook hands, as lawyers often do who have
just before abused each other in court.

On another occasion, General Smith, of Baltimore, a Revolutionary
hero upward of eighty years of age, who had been a member of Congress
almost forty years, was one day the object of Henry Clay's wrath.
The old General, who had fought gallantly in the Revolutionary
struggle and taken up arms again in the War of 1812, was offensively
bullied by Mr. Clay, who said: "The honorable gentleman was in
favor of manufactures in 1822, but he has turned--I need not use
the word--he has thus abandoned manufactures. Thus

"'Old politicians chew on wisdom past
And totter on, in blunders, to the last.'"

The old General sprang to his feet. "The last allusion," said he,
"is unworthy of a gentleman. Totter, sir, I totter! Though some
twenty years older than the gentleman, I can yet stand firm, and
am yet able to correct his errors. I could take a view of the
gentleman's course, which would show how consistent he has been."