"I fear the worst fate of Rome is hanging over us; whether that of Sylla be in store for our despot, I know not. Should he, however, abdicate at the end of three years (Sylla's term), he will be hunted by the cries of a guilty conscience and by the curses of an outraged people, more intolerable than the pangs which tortured in his last moment the Roman tyrant!"
In anticipation of another speaker's assault, a journalist says,
"We may, when he delivers his sentiments,—which will be indeed the reflex of public opinion,—look to behold the fur fly off the back of the treacherous old usurper, our implacable tyrant," &c. &c.
On the other hand, the adulation of the administration exhausts panegyric in the President's praise: his qualities are proclaimed to be superhuman, his intuitive wisdom and farsightedness approaching to omniscience; by this party he, indeed, is all but deified. The vice-president proclaims that he shall consider it honour enough to have it known that he held a place in his counsels. Members of the legislature, of sound age and high character, dispute in their places within the house their seniority of standing as "true soldiers of the General's administration;" an odd title, by the way, independent of the strangeness of the avowal, for a representative of the people.
The assumption of the act of responsibility, and its exercise, it is argued by this party, have been decisive as to the conservation of the morale of the country, without which their liberties were held by a tenure liable to be quickly subverted, and the blood, and toil, and treasure of their predecessors spent in vain; that the integrity of their institutions was by this act assured, and the continuance of the people's happiness and prosperity based upon marble, unimpeachable and to endure for ever!
In every society, in all places, and at all times, this subject is all-absorbent amongst the men. Observing with pity a very intelligent friend arrested in the lobby of a drawing-room which was occupied by a whole bevy of beauty, and there undergo a buttoning of half an hour before he could shake off his worrier, I inquired with a compassionate air, just as he made his escape, "whether he would not be glad when the present ferment was over, and this eternal spectre laid in the sea of oblivion?"
"No, indeed," replied my friend coolly; "since it would only vanish to be succeeded by some other, in reality not quite so important perhaps, but which, for lack of a better, would be made to the full as absorbing of one's time and patience."
And this is strictly true: whatever subject may turn up is laid hold on, tooth and nail, by the Ins and Outs of the day, who, dividing upon it, lift banners, and under the chosen war-cry, be it "Masonry," "Indian treaties," or "Bank charter," fairly fight it out; a condition of turmoil, which, viewed on the surface, may appear anything but desirable to a man who loves his ease and quiet, and troubles himself with nothing less than with affairs of state, but which constitutes one of the personal taxes men must pay who look to govern themselves, or who desire to fancy that they do so.
It is a matter of great regret to me that there occurred no levee whilst I was in Washington; because, had one taken place, I should have enjoyed the honour of a closer view of the venerable chief of the States than I could snatch from seeing him pass two or three times on the avenue. Not but that there are facilities enough afforded for a presentation to one who is never denied when disengaged from his public duties; facilities which it may be very right and proper for the American citizen to avail himself of, but which good taste might suggest to the stranger, especially the Englishman, it would be more becoming in him to forego: as it is, I have frequently, in travelling, heard Europeans talking with the most offensive familiarity of having called upon the President, who at home would have stood hat-in-hand in their county magistrate's office, waiting for an interview with the great man.
As viewed on horseback, the General is a fine soldierly, well-preserved old gentleman, with a pale wrinkled countenance, and a keen clear eye, restless and searching. His seat is an uncommonly good one, his hand apparently light, and his carriage easy and horseman-like; circumstances, though trifling in themselves, not so general here as to escape observation.