judge admit our plea? These tariff laws,' he would repeat

"That Union we reached only by the discipline of our virtues in the severe school of adversity. It had its origin in the necessities of disordered finance, prostrate commerce, and ruined credit. Under its benign influence, these great interests immediately awoke, as from the dead, and sprang forth with newness of life. Every year of its duration has teemed with fresh proofs of its utility and its blessings; and although our territory has stretched out wider and wider, and our population spread farther and farther, they have not outran its protection or its benefits. It has been to us all a copious fountain of national, social, personal happiness. I have not allowed myself, sir, to look beyond the Union, to see what might lie hidden in the dark recesses behind. I have not coolly weighed the chances of preserving liberty, when the bonds that unite us together shall be broken asunder. I have not accustomed myself to hang over the precipice of disunion, to see whether, with my short sight, I can fathom the depth of the abyss below; nor could I regard him as a safe counsellor in the affairs of this government, whose thoughts should be mainly bent on considering, not how the Union should be best preserved, but how tolerable might be the condition of the people when it shall be broken up and destroyed. While the Union lasts, we have high, exciting, gratifying prospects spread out before us, for us and our children. Beyond that I seek not to penetrate the veil. God grant that, in my day at least, that

curtain may not rise. God grant that on my vision never may be opened what lies behind. When my eyes shall be turned to behold, for the last time, the sun in heaven, may I not see him shining on the broken and dishonored fragments of a once-glorious Union; on states dissevered, discordant, belligerent; on a land rent with civil feuds, or drenched, it may be, in fraternal blood! Let their last feeble and lingering glance, rather, behold the gorgeous ensign of the Republic, now known and honored throughout the earth, still full high advanced, its arms and trophies streaming in their original lustre, not a stripe erased or polluted, nor a single star obscuredbearing for its motto no such miserable interrogatory as, What is all this worth? nor those other words of delusion and folly, Liberty first, and Union afterwards; but everywhere, spread all over in characters of living light, blazing on all its ample folds, as they float over the sea and over the land, and in every wind under the whole heavens, that other sentiment, dear to every true American heart-Liberty and Union, now and forever, one and inseparable !"

Note. It is is scarcely necessary to state, that the above sketch was written prior to the decease of the great statesman to whom it refers.

AUTHOR.

HENRY CLAY.

EVERY American citizen, who has arrived at years of discretion, must be familiar with the remarkable history of Henry Clay. What man figured more conspicuously in Congress than he did during his terms of service there? Who exerted such a magnetic and potent influence over the Whig party? Where in this country could be found his equal for impassioned eloquence? Who understood better than he did the modern history of the diplomacy of nations? He was a man of extraordinary endowments, courteous, brave, generous, and urbane, and yet opinionative, arbitrary, and dogmatical. It is said, that on a certain occasion, while Rufus Choate was a member of the United States Senate, the imperious Kentuckian made the Massachusetts orator shrink to his seat, in the midst of a speech, by simply shaking his finger at him. What a sight! Rufus Choate struck dumb by the pantomime of Henry Clay. As a statesman he had great forecast, save when he permitted himself to become a candidate for the presidency; then he unwisely hampered himself with answers to the impertinent inquiries of the little great men which flash like fire-flies when the stars are shining.

Had he been a Northern man, with a New England education, he would have been a bolder and braver herald of freedom, and he would have discountenanced those who have

betrayed liberty in the house of its professed friends for less than thirty pieces of silver; renegades who have crucified humanity-by driving in the rusty nails of cruel enactments and putting on the crown of bitter shame. He, however, was a wise statesman and a magnificent gentleman. "Peace to his ashes."

Having no desire whatever to dwell on that unpleasant side of the medal, I turn to a theme in which the general reader will take a deeper interest. Henry Clay had a well balanced temperament, combining vast powers of origination with great force and activity. Indolence was punishment to him. Mr. Fowler, the justly celebrated phrenologist, speaking of him, says, "He also had great elasticity of constitution; could endure almost anything." He was tall-full six feet in his stockings, I should think-stood erect as the towering pines on the sandy hills of his native state, had a capacious chest, sandy complexion, florid countenance, wide, sensual mouth, starry eyes, and a magnificent forehead. He looked the patrician. Even strangers knew at a glance that he was no ordinary person. Nature had put a mark of distinction upon him, and pedestrians would stop in the road and look back after him. When he smiled, the infection charmed the circle on which his countenance shone. When he spoke, he had the entire nation for his audience. When he made an effort, there was a vibration throughout the Confederacy. That he was an ambitious man, and desired most ardently to be elevated to the highest post of honor his country could offer him, will not be disputed by those who are competent to

appreciate his speeches and his sentiments. He was born to be a leader, and he did lead, and sometimes drive. He drove his cruel omnibus into the Senate, and would have had scythes upon its wheels, if Benton had not knocked them off with his battering-ram.

Mr. Clay was noted for his hospitality and great-hearted generosity. He was fond of the approbation of his fellowmen, and would often put himself to inconvenience to accommodate those even, who could render no return but gratitude for his magnanimity. Not at all inclined to believe in the wonderful and marvelous, and not being overstocked with veneration for religious rites and ceremonies, he was in his earlier days regarded as a dashing, brilliant, reckless, gifted, and graceless young man, with lofty anticipations that would never be realized. It is quite evident he expected notoriety, honor, and distinction, and his career proves that he did not over-estimate his abilities, while it furnishes positive evidence that his expectations were not often disappointed. Although a popular man, who moved the masses and even the sympathies of the poor as well as the rich—while he was naturally aristocratic and exclusive, and wished all to keep at a respectful distance from him-he was accessible and sociable when approached through proper mediums. No one at all acquainted with him could fail to notice his unfaltering firmness and unyielding perseverance. Whatever project he undertook was pursued with volcanic vigor until it was accomplished. He was cautious, without being timid-resolute, but not rash-firm, but not obstinate. He could mature his plans