The place was worthy of the hour and of the combatants.

It was the old Senate chamber, now occupied by the United States Supreme Court, the same hall which had once resounded to the eloquence of Rufus King, as it afterwards did to the eloquence of Rufus Choate, and which had echoed the bursts of applause that once greeted Henry Clay of Kentucky.

On that memorable morning the Vice-President's chair was occupied by that intellectual giant of the South, John C.Calhoun.Before him were Van Buren, Forsyth, Hayne, Clayton, the omniverous Benton, the sturdy John Quincy Adams, and, in the seething crowd, was the gaunt skeleton form of John Randolph of Roanoke.

Mr.Condit told me that when Webster exclaimed: "The world knows the history of Massachusetts by heart.

There is Lexington, and there is Bunker Hill and there they will remain forever,"-- the group of Bostonians seated in the gallery before him, broke down, and wept like little children.