and in the galleries remained immovable. No
one went out, no one could get in. The floor of the Senate was crammed
with privileged persons, and it seemed that all Congress was there.
Expectation and determination to see the conclusion were depicted on
every countenance. It was evident there was to be no adjournment until
the vote should be taken--until the deed was done, and this aspect of
invincible determination had its effect upon the ranks of the
opposition. They began to falter under a useless resistance; they alone
now did the talking, and while Mr. Webster was yet reciting his protest
two Senators from the opposition side who had been best able to maintain
their equanimity, came around to the mover of the resolution and said:
'This question has degenerated into a trial of nerves and muscles. It
has become a question of physical endurance, and we see no use in
wearing ourselves out to keep off for a few hours longer what has to
come before we separate. We see that you are able and determined to
carry your measure--so call the vote as soon as you please. We shall say
no more.'

Webster concluded. No one arose. There was a pause, a dead silence, and
an intense feeling. Presently the silence was invaded by the single word
'question'--the parliamentary call for a vote--rising from the seats of
different Senators. One blank in the resolve remained to be filled--the
date of its adoption. It was done. The acting President of the Senate,
Mr. King, of Alabama, then directed the roll to be called. The yeas and
nays had been previously ordered, and proceeded to be called by the
Secretary of the Senate, the result showing a majority of five on the
side of the expungers.

The passage of the resolution was announced by the chair. Mr. Benton
arose, and said that nothing now remained but to execute the order of
the Senate, which he moved to be done forthwith. It was ordered
accordingly. The secretary thereupon produced the original manuscript
journal of the Senate, and opening at the page which contained the
condemnatory sentence of March 28, 1834, proceeded in open Senate to
draw a square of broad black lines around the sentence, and to write
across its face in strong letters: EXPUNGED BY ORDER OF THE SENATE THIS
16TH DAY OF JANUARY, 1837.

HENRY CLAY.

A few miles from old Hanover court-house in Virginia, where the
splendors of Patrick Henry's genius first beamed forth, is a humble
dwelling by the road-side, in th