Mr. Speaker, a statesman for more than fifty years in the councils of his country, whose peculiar charge it was to see that the republic suffered no detriment—a patriot for all times, all circumstances, and all emergencies—has passed away from the trials and triumphs of the world, and gone to his reward. Sad as are the emotions which such an event would ordinarily excite, their intensity is heightened by the matters so fresh within the memories of us all:

‘Oh! think how to his latest day,

When Death, just hovering, claimed his prey,

With Palinurus’ unalter’d mood,

Firm at his dangerous post he stood;

Each call for needful rest repell’d,

With dying hand the rudder held;

Then while on Freedom’s thousand plains,

One unpolluted church remains,

Whose peaceful bells ne’er sent around