This is Sidney Dillon, president of the Union Pacific, and one of the most superb creations to be found within the marble walls of Congress. What a princely presence and distinguished bearing, towering far above the average of his sex in height, with features as classic and clear cut as a cameo gem. In action, the embodiment of an Achilles, and in repose as graceful as the statue of the Greek slave. Can it be possible there is warm, red fluid in his veins, or a fountain of human kindness in his breast? As he stands mentally playing with a Senator, he might easily be mistaken for something more than human, yet neither horns nor tail are visible. What power has he which the Congressmen appear to have not? Step a little closer. No sound is heard issuing from his finely chiseled lips. He is speaking, but there is no expression at play with the classic features. Solemn, icy, apparently immutable, he only needs the Hebrew cast of countenance to become the living personification of the Wandering Jew. Unlike Jay Gould and Huntington, his work is seldom trusted to women. Though one should approach him as fascinating as the serpent of the Nile, as lovely as Venus, or as perfect as Hebe, the Union Pacific would lean back on its everlasting snow-sheds and defy the powers of darkness and Mother Eve combined. Taken separately, or all together, no such trio of men have ever appeared on the Congressional floor at the capital and no such corporation has ever been known to exist in the whole civilized world.
Olivia.
[PRESIDENT GRANT’S INAUGURAL.]
Entering Upon the Duties of the Executive.
Washington, March 5, 1869.
On the 4th of March the goddess of day arose with bedraggled garments and watery eyes; but as the sun advanced to her meridian the clouds trembled and dissolved in mid air, and the atmosphere grew balmy as an infant’s breath, and at high noon all nature seemed decked in holiday mood to crown the eighteenth President of the United States.
A magic card was the “open sesame” to the Capitol, and once inside, the beholder was dazzled with a picture as gorgeous as anything ever beheld in the far-famed halls of the Montezumas. Here were seen the great, strong arms of the Government, as represented by both branches of Congress, the Army and the Navy, and the Supreme Court. The foreign ministers in their gay court dresses, bespangled with decorations and shimmering with gold lace, gave the last finishing touch of brilliancy to the scene upon the floor. The diplomatic gallery was filled with ladies through whose veins coursed the bluest blood of Europe, though in personal attractions they were equalled and in some cases totally eclipsed by the grace and beauty of the American queens around them. Never has the Senate been filled with a more aristocratic assembly, and yet an occasional pretty Treasury girl’s face peeped out, proving some great man’s exquisite taste, as well as that exclusiveness was not carried so far as to add the last feather to the camel’s back.
One of the front seats had been reserved for the use of Mrs. Grant and the friends who might be with her, but she did not take possession of it, and it remained unoccupied during the entire ceremonies. The seat retained for Mrs. Colfax and her friends was filled by that lady and her relatives, while every available square inch of the room in the vast gallery reflected some root, branch, or favorite of the men in power to-day who represent the leading Departments of the Government.