high and straight, yet forming a sufficient angle with the lower part of his face-his nose somewhat of the Roman stamp, though like that which we see in the bust of Cicero, it was rather long, than remarkable for its Cæsarean form-of the colour of his eyes, the accounts are almost as various as those which we have of the colour of the chamelion-they are said to have been blue, grey, what Lavater calls green, hazel, brown, and black-the fact seems to have been, that they were of a bluish grey, not large; and being deeply fixed in his head, overhung by dark, long, and full eye-brows, and farther shaded by lashes that were both long and black, their apparent colour was as variable as the lights in which they were seen-but all concur in saying that they were, unquestionably, the finest feature in his face-brilliant-full of spirit, and capable of the most rapidly shifting and powerful expression-at one time piercing and terrible as those of Mars, and then again soft and tender as those of pity herselfhis cheeks were hollow-his chin long, but well formed, and rounded at the end, so as to form a proper counterpart to the upper part of his face. "I find it difficult," says the correspondent from whom I have borrowed this portrait," to describe his mouth; in which there was nothing remarkable, except when about to express a modest dissent from some opinion on which he was commenting-he then had a sort of half smile, in which the want of conviction was perhaps more strongly expressed, than the satirical emotion, which probably prompted it. His manner and address to the court and jury might be deemed the excess of humility, diffidence, and modesty. If, as rarely happened, he had occasion to answer any remark from the bench, it was impossible for meekness herself to assume a manner less presumptuous-but in the smile of which I have been speaking, you might anticipate the want of conviction, expressed in his answer, at the moment that he submitted to the superior wisdom of the court, with a grace that would have done honour to Westminster Hall. In his reply to counsel, his remarks on the evidence, and on the conduct of the parties, he preserved the same distinguished deference and politeness, still accompanied, however, by the never failing index of this sceptical smile, where the occasion prompted." In short, his features were manly, bold, and well proportioned, full of intelligence, and adapting themselves intuitively to every sentiment of his mind, and every feeling of his heart. His voice was not remarkable for its sweetness; but it was firm, full of volume, and rather melodious than otherwise. Its charms consisted in the mellowness and fulness of its note, the ease and variety of its inflections, the distinctness of its articulation, the fine effect of its emphasis, the felicity with which it attuned itself to every emotion, and the vast compass which enabled it to range through the whole empire of human passion, from the deep and tragic half whisper of horror, to the wildest exclamation of overwhelming rage. mild persuasion it was as soft and gentle as the zephyr of spring; while in rousing his countrymen to arms, the winter storm that roars along the troubled Baltic, was not more awfully sublime. It was at all times perfectly under his command; or rather, indeed, it seemed to command itself, and to modulate its notes, most happily, to the sentiment he was uttering. It never exceeded, or fell short of the occasion. There was none of that long continued and deafening vociferation, which always takes place when an ardent speaker has lost possession of himself-no monotonous clangour, no discordant shriek. Without being strained, it had that body and enunciation which filled the most distant

In

ear, without distressing those which were nearest him hence it never became cracked or hoarse, even in his longest speeches, but retained to the last all its clearness and fulness of intonation, all the delicacy of its inflection, all the charms of its emphasis, and enchanting variety of its cadence.

His delivery was perfectly natural and well timed. It has indeed been said, that, on his first rising, there was a species of sub-cantus very observable by a stranger, and rather disagreeable to him; but that in a very few moments even this itself became agreeable, and seemed, indeed, indispensable to the full effect of his peculiar diction and conceptions. In point of time, he was very happy: there was no slow and heavy dragging, no quaint and measured drawling, with equidistant pace, no stumbling and floundering among the fractured members of deranged and broken periods, no undignified hurry and trepidation, no recalling and recasting of sentences as he went along, no retraction of one word and substitution of another not better, and none of those affected bursts of almost inarticulate impetuosity, which betray the rhetorician rather than display the orator. On the contrary, ever self-colfected, deliberate, and dignified, he seemed to have looked through the whole period before he commenced its delivery; and hence his delivery was smooth, and firm, and well accented; slow enough to take along with him the dullest hearer, and yet so commanding that the quick had neither the power nor the disposition to get the start of him. Thus he gave to every thought its full and appro priate force; and to every image all its radiance and beauty.

No speaker ever understood better than Mr. Henry, the true use and power of the pause; and no one ever practised it with happier effect. His pauses were never resorted to, for the purpose of investing an insignificant thought with false importance; much less were they ever resorted to as a finesse, to gain time for thinking. The hearer was never disposed to ask, "why that pause?" nor to measure its duration by a reference to his watch. On the contrary, it always came at the very moment when he would himself have wished it, in order to weigh the striking and important thought which had just been uttered; and the interval was always filled by the speaker with a matchless energy of look, which drove the thought home through the mind and through the heart.

His gesture, and this varying play of his features and voice, were so excellent, so exquisite, that many have referred his power as an orator principally to that cause; yet this was all his own, and his ges ture, particularly, of so peculiar a cast, that it is said it would have become no other man. I do not learn that it was very abundant; for there was no trash about it; none of those false motions to which undisciplined speakers are so generally addicted; no chopping nor sawing of the air; no thumping of the bar to express an earnestness, which was much more powerfully, as well as more elegantly, expressed by his eye and his countenance.

Whenever

he moved his arm, or his hand, or even his finger, or changed the position of his body, it was always to some purpose; nothing was inefficient; every thing told; every gesture, every attitude, every look, was emphatic; all was animation, energy, and dignity, Its great advantage consisted in this-that various, bold, and original as it was, it never appeared to be studied, affected, or theatrical, or "to overstep." in the smallest degree, "the molesty of nature;" for he never made a gesture or assumed an attitude, which did not seem imperiously demanded by the occasion. Every look, every motion, every pause,

He

every start, was completely filled and dilated by the thought which he was uttering, and seemed indeed to form a part of the thought itself. His action, however strong, was never vehement. was never seen rushing forward, shoulder foremost, fury in his countenance, and frenzy in his voice, as if to overturn the bar, and charge his audience sword in hand. His judgment was too manly and too solid, and his taste too true, to permit him to indulge in any such extravagance. His good sense and his self-possession never deserted him. In the loudest storm of declamation, in the fiercest blaze of passion, there was a dignity and temperance which gave it seeming. He had the rare faculty of imparting to his hearers all the excess of his own feelings, and all the violence and tumult of his emotions, all the dauntless spirit of his resolution, and all the energy of his soul, without any sacrifice of his own personal dignity, and without treating his hearers otherwise than as rational beings. He was not the orator of a day; and therefore sought not to build his fame on the sandy basis of a false taste, fostered, if not created, by himself. He spoke for immortality; and therefore raised the pillars of his glory on the only solid foundation—the rock of nature.

JOHN PICKERING,

THE distinguished jurist and philologist, was the son of Col. Timothy Pickering, the early Whig leader of Salem, his native place, the fellow-soldier of Washington, and his Secretary of State from 1795 until his removal in the administration of Adams in 1800; subsequently a member of Congress, a member of the board of war in 1812, as he had discharged numerous similar duties in the Revolution, again member of Congress from 1814 to 1817, when he retired at that period to private life, employing himself in agriculture. After the

war of the Revolution, he lived in Pennsylvania, and was delegated by that state to visit the Western settlements, and adjust a controversy which had been excited by the claims of Connecticut emigrants. While residing near Wilkesbarre, in the discharge of this duty, he was seized in his bed at night by a band of ruffians, carried off to the forest, and exposed to various outrages and privations, with the design of intimidation. After twenty days of this abduction, he reappeared before his family. "So much," it is said, "was he altered by the sufferings and hardships he had endured, that his children fled from his presence affrighted by his haggard, unshaven appearance, and his wife looked upon him with consternation as upon an apparition."*

He died Jan. 29, 1829, in his eighty-fourth year. He was always active in public life. His writings were numerous, and consist of political pamphlets, on questions of national policy, or of a controversial character growing out of his vigorous partisanship on the Federal side, occasional addresses and orations, agricultural and other papers. His biting Review of the Correspondence between the Hon. John Adams and the late William Cunningham, Esq., beginning in 1803 and ending in 1812, one of the most celebrated of his compositions, was published in 1824.t

* National Portrait Gallery, ed. 1884, vol. i.

It is in this production he parries the personal attack of John Adams, who had charged him in one of the Letters with ambitious views, in these terms:-" Under the simple appearVOL. 1.-40

John Pickering was born at Salem, Feb. 7, 1772. He was educated at Harvard, and was then for some time abroad as Secretary to the

for Pickering

United States Minister W. L. Smith at Portugal, and afterwards from 1799 to 1801 as Secretary to Rufus King in London. At that date he returned to America, and was admitted to the bar at Salem. In 182 he removed to Boston, and in 1829 was made City Solicitor, continuing to hold the office till within a short time of his death, May 5, 1846. His intellectual life was divided between his legal profession and his pursuits as a scholar. His philological inquiries took a wide range, including the extremes of Greek literature, and of our native Indian languages. Of the extent of his attainments in these studies, his eulogist, Charles Sumner, has given this animated sketch:-"Unless," he says, 66 some memorandum should be found among his papers, as was the case with Sir William Jones, specifying the languages to which he had been devoted, it may be difficult to frame a list with entire accuracy. It is certain that he was familiar with at least nine, the English, French, Portuguese, Italian, Spanish, German, Romaic, Greek, and Latin; of these he spoke the first five. He was less familiar, though well acquainted, with the Dutch, Swedish, Danish, and Hebrew; and had explored, with various degrees of care, the Arabic, Turkish, Syriac, Persian, Coptic, Sanscrit, Chinese, CochinChinese, Russian, Egyptian hieroglyphics, the Malay in several dialects, and particularly the Indian languages of America and of the Polynesian islands. His labors span immeasurable spaces in the world's history,-embracing the distant, primeval Sanscrit; the hieroglyphics of Egypt, now awakening from their mute sleep of centuries; the polite and learned tongues of ancient and modern Europe; the languages of Mohammedanisin; the various dialects of the forests of North America, and of the sandalgroves of the Pacific; only closing with a lingua franca, from an unlettered tribe on the coast of Africa, to which his attention had been called even after the illness which ended in his death."*

In 1816 he published A Vocabulary, or Collection of Words and Phrases which have been supposed to be peculiar to the United States of America. His Greek and English Lexicon on the basis of Schrevelius appeared in 1826. For an enumeration of his other writings, we are indebted to an article in the Encyclopædia Americana.t

ance of a bald head and straight hair, and under professions of profound republicanism, he conceals an ardent ambition, envious of every superior, and impatient of obscurity." This was Pickering's reply:-"My bald head and straight hair' are what nature has given me; and I have been content with her arrangements; they are not a fit subject for reproach. Mr. Adams's friend Cunningham reminds him, that it was rather unfortunate for him to attempt to degrade Hamilton, by calling him the little man;' seeing, though with less flesh, he surpassed in stature both him and his son."

Sumner's Phi Beta Kappa Address, 1846. + Supplementary vol. xiv. Art. Pickering.

To the Memoirs of the American Academy he contributed articles On the Adoption of a Uniform Orthography for the Indian Languages of North America; on the Pronunciation of the Greek Language; on Father Rasle and on Lord North's Island. In the North American Review are to be found his Observations on the Importance of Greek Literature (1820), a review of Du Ponceau's Dissertation on the Chinese System of Writing, in volume forty-eight, and a paper on the Cochin-Chinese language, in volume fifty-two. To the Encyclopædia Americana he contributed an article on the Indian Languages of America. He was a contributor to The Collections of the Massachusetts Historical Society, the New York Review, the American Quarterly Review, and the American Jurist. His chief legal publications are an article on The Agrarian Laws in the Encyclopædia Americana, an article on Egyptian Jurisprudence in the fifty-first volume of the North American Review, a Lecture on the Alleged Uncertainty of the Law, and a Review of the International McLeod Question. He also delivered a eulogy on Dr. Bowditch, and an address before the American Oriental Society.

The prominent traits of Pickering's moral life are alluded to by Sumner in his mention of "his modesty, his sweetness of temper, his simplicity of life, his kindness to the young, his sympathy with studies of all kinds, his sensibility to beauty, his conscientious character, his passionless mind."

NATHANIEL BOWDITCH.

NATHANIEL, the fourth son of Habakkuk and Mary Ingersoll Bowditch, was born at Salem, Massachusetts, March 26, 1773. His father, after following, as a shipmaster, the calling of his ancestors for several generations, retired from the sea, and engaged in the business of a cooper. He could not afford to bestow upon any of his family of seven children any advantages of education beyond those afforded by the common schools of the town, and these they enjoyed for a few years only, as Nathaniel was summoned at the early age of ten to work in his shop. He was soon afterwards apprenticed to a ship-chandler, and while serving his time, gave significant evidence of his mathematical talents, by devoting to the slate every spare moment which was not occupied in the perusal of some book. He was so indefatigable a reader, that at an early age he went through an entire encyclopædia letter by letter. On the 11th of January, 1795, Bowditch sailed

Nather Bowditch

from Salem as clerk to Captain Henry Prince, of the ship Henry, for the Isle of Bourbon. The vessel returned after a year's absence, and he sailed a second time, as supercargo, in the Astræa, to Lisbon, Madeira, and Manilla. A third voyage followed to the Mediterranean, and a fourth to the East Indies, succeeded by others in the same direction, until the year 1804, when he left the

* Address, p. 8.

sea and became president of a Marine Insurance Company in his native city.

During his seafaring life he took a deep interest in the instruction of sailors in navigation, and with such success, that the fact of having sailed with him became a strong recommendation to seamen who had enjoyed that privilege, and was often the cause of their promotion. He was at the same time a thorough student, acquiring Latin in order to master Newton's Principia; French, to obtain access to the valuable mathematical works in that language; and Spanish, German, and Italian, for general literary purposes.

In 1800 he published his New American Practical Navigator, a work which originated in a series of corrections which he commenced of John Hamilton Moore's book on the same subject. These grew so numerous, that he wisely judged it best to publish an independent work. It became widely successful, and is the universally adopted guide in the American marine, and to a great extent in the naval service of England and France.

Happening, in 1802, to be detained in Boston by a contrary wind on the Commencement day of Harvard, he strolled to the church in which the exercises were held, and had the surprise and gratification of hearing his name called as a recipient of the degree of Master of Arts. It was the first and most welcome of a long series of similar public recognitions of his services.

In 1806 he published an extremely valuable chart of the harbors of Salem, Beverly, Marblehead, and Manchester, and in 1823 removed to Boston, to take charge as Actuary of the newly formed Massachusetts Hospital Life Insurance Company, an office which he retained for the remainder of his life. While thus occupied, he was complimented by the offer of the Hollis Professorship of Harvard College, of the Professorship of Mathematics in the University of Virginia, and of the Professorship of Mathematics at West Point: so that his ability was substantially recognised by the whole country. Meanwhile he wrote papers on astronomy for the transactions of the American Academy of Arts and Sciences, contributed to the Analyst and Mathematical Diary edited by Dr. Adrain, wrote articles for the American edition of Rees's Cyclopædia, the article on Modern Astronomy in the twentieth volume of the North American Review, and an account of the comet of 1806 in the fourth volume of the Monthly Anthology.

In 1829, the first volume of his great work, the translation and amplification of La Place's Mechanique Celeste, appeared. In studying the original work, Bowditch had frequently been arrested by the want of demonstration of the means by which results had been arrived at, the author presup posing a greater familiarity with the subject on the part of his reader than could reasonably be predicated of any but himself. In Bowditch's own words, "I never come across one of La Place's Thus it plainly appears,' without feeling sure that I have got hours of hard study before me to fill up the chasm, and find out and show how it plainly appears." In the task of filling up these chasms and presenting the whole in a form for English readers, he succeeded so well, that La Place is

said to have remarked, “I am sure that Dr. Bowditch comprehends my work, for he has not only detected my errors, but has shown me how I came to fall into them.” He cominenced the work in 1815, and it formed the constant occupation of his laborious life up to the time of his decease. The second volume appeared in 1832, and the third in 1834. Each of the three contains about a thousand quarto pages. He was attacked, while engaged in correcting the proof sheets of the fourth, by a disease which proved fatal, but continued his occupation in the intervals of relief from pain almost until the time of his death. He refused to allow its publication by subscription, waiting until his means would allow him to bear the expense of the issue of five volumes of about a thousand pages each, saying that he would rather spend a thousand dollars a year for such an object than in keeping a carriage. The work met with a better sale than he anticipated, but was still a source of pecuniary loss to him.

Dr. Bowditch was an eminently practical business man, and executed the important moneyed trusts committed to him by his official position with great success. He accomplished the great results of his life by untiring and systematic industry. He rose early, in winter two hours before dawn, and when not occupied in his office, was almost always to be found in his library, where it was his delight to be surrounded by his family, an affectionate disposition forming one of the many fine traits of his character. He went out but little, but was always glad to see his friends, taking great delight in social intercourse and lively conversation. He was universally esteemed for the purity of his life, his integrity, and consistent course. He was familiarly known, in allusion perhaps to his moral as well as scientific career, as "the Great Pilot." His last disease was a scirrhus of the stomach, which for four weeks before his death rendered it impossible for him to swallow solid food or scarcely any liquid. He suffered little from hunger, but continually from thirst, which was partially relieved by moistening his lips with cold water. His frame wasted away, but his mental faculties remained unclouded, and his last act on the morning of his death was to recognise and address with the feeble powers of sight and voice which remained to him, each member of his family gathered around his couch. "You see," he said, "I can distinguish you all, and I now give you my parting blessing. The time is come; Lord, now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace, according to thy word." This was on Friday, March 16th, 1838. He was buried on the following Sunday morning, beneath Trinity Church, Bo

ton.

The merits of Bowditch entitle him to a high rank among the mathematicians of the world. They have been carefully stated by Pickering in his Eulogy before the Academy of Arts and Sciences.* His commentary was an original work, and he made many discoveries of his own. Notices of Bowditch's Life and Character appeared shortly after his death, in the Eulogy

*May 29, 1838.

delivered at the request of the Corporation of Salem, by Judge Daniel Appleton White, and in the discourse of the Rev. Alexander Young. These celebrate the sincerity, simplicity, and modesty of his character. His vivacity is recorded in an anecdote preserved by Judge White: -"A late venerable lady, as remarkable for her sagacity as for her love of goodness, after her first interview with Dr. Bowditch, observed, 'I admire that man, for he is a live man.' He was truly a live man in his whole nature and constitution, in his mind, conscience, soul, and body. Life was in his every thought, feeling, and action. So rapid were his thoughts on all subjects, that his judgment would often appear intuitive to those who could not follow his mind in its logical process, or perceive the steps to its conclusions. An instantaneous spring of hearty glee or mental delight, would sometimes, notwithstanding his natural and delicate sense of decorum, set all rules of etiquette at defiance, and exhibit itself in the same open and joyous manner, whether he were at the fireside of a friend, or at the governor's council-board."*

JOHN RANDOLPH.

JOHN RANDOLPH was born at Cawsons, the estate of Col. Theodorick Bland, his maternal grandfather, Prince George County, Virginia, June 2, 1773. He was the son of a wealthy planter, and descended in the seventh degree from Pocahontas. When a little over two years old he lost his father. He was, however, tenderly reared by his mother, who in 1778 was married to St. George Tucker. His delicate constitution prevented his engaging in the usual athletic sports of childhood, and at a very early age he acquired a taste for books, his first favorites being the Fairy Tales, the stories in the Spectator, Shakespeare, and Voltaire's Charles XII. In 1781 the family were obliged to leave their residence at Matoax, in consequence of the invasion of Virginia by Arnold. Randolph was soon after placed at the school of Walker Maury at Orange County, and on the removal of the establishment to Williamsburg, followed his teacher to that place. After passing a few months at Princeton and Columbia Colleges, he completed his course at William and Mary, and studied law with his uncle, Edmund Randolph, at Philadelphia. In 1794 he returned to Virginia, and on coming of age in the same year entered on the personal management of his large estate. In 1799 he became a candidate of the Republican party for Congress, in the Charlotte district. His first speech was made upon the hustings at the March court, and was an answer to an address on the Federal side by Patrick Henry, who had been induced to overcome his early objections to the recently adopted constitution, and run as a candidate for the Legislature. The occasion felt to bo the last on which Henry could ever appear before the public, by whom he was idolized, attracted a great concourse, who listened with interest to the young man as well as the veteran. Both, though representing opposite opinions, were elected.

Randolph, with the exception of the three intervals of two years each, retained his seat in

Eulogy on the Life and Character of Nathaniel Bowditch, Salem. Encyclopædia Americana, Supplt.

the House of Representatives for thirty years. He was a thorough-going advocate of the doctrine of state rights. His first speech was in support

John RandApt

of a bill to reduce the army, in which some unguarded expressions respecting the military profession led to a scene a short time after at the theatre, where some officers of the army took occasion of points in the play to make remarks offensive to Randolph, who communicated a statement of the affair to Adams, who brought it before Congress, where a report was made that no "breach of the privileges of the House had been committed by the offenders." This was rejected, but no further action taken.

In the question of the purchase of Louisiana, Randolph sided with Jefferson. He opposed the embargo, the war of 1812, the re-charter of the United States Bank, and the Missouri Compromise. One of his most marked efforts was his speech in 1822 against a resolution which had been offered expressing the sympathy for the Greeks then struggling for independence. A similar movement was at the same time in progress in South America. In 1826, after the appointment by Adams of Clay as Secretary of State, Randolph referred to the affair as "the calition of Blifil and Black George-the combination, unheard of till then, of the puritan with the blackleg." This led to a challenge from Clay. The celebrated duel which followed is described by Randolph's biographer.

"The night before the duel," says General James Hamilton, of South Carolina, Mr. Randolph sent for me. I found him calm, but in a singularly kind and confiding mood. He told me that he had something on his mind to tell me. He then remarked, Hamilton, I have determined to receive, without returning, Clay's fire; nothing shall induce me to harm a hair of his head; I will not make his wife a widow, or his children orphans. Their tears would be shed over his grave; but when the sod of Virginia rests on my bosom, there is not in this wide world one individual to pay this tribute upon mine.' His eyes filled, and resting his head upon his hand, we remained some moments silent. I replied, 'My dear friend (for ours was a sort of posthumous friendship, bequeathed by our mothers), I deeply regret that you have mentioned this subject to me; for you call upon me to go to the field and to see you shot down, or to assume the responsibility, in regard to your own life, in sustaining your determination to throw it away. But on this subject, a man's own conscience and his own bosom are his best monitors. I will not advise, but under the enormous and unprovoked personal insult you have offered Mr. Clay, I cannot dissuade. I feel bound, however, to communicate to Colonel Tattnall your decision.' He begged me not to do so, and said, he was very much afraid that Tattnall would take the studs and refuse to go out with him.' I, however, sought Colonel Tattnall, and we repaired about midnight to Mr. Randolph's lodgings, whom we found reading Milton's great poem. For some moments he did not permit us to say one word in relation to the approaching duel; and he at once commenced one of those delightful criticisms on a passage of this

poet, in which he was wont so enthusiastically to indulge. After a pause, Colonel Tattṇall remarked, Mr. Randolph, I am told you have determined not to return Mr. Clay's fire; I must say to you, my dear sir, if I am only to go out to see you shot down, you must find some other friend.' Mr. Randolph remarked that it was his determination. After much conversation on the subject, I induced Colonel Tattnall to allow Mr. Randolph to take his own course, as his withdrawal, as one of his friends, might lead to very injurious misconstructions. At last, Mr. Randolph, smiling, said, Well, Tattnall, I promise you one thing, if I see the devil in Clay's eye, and that with malice prepense he means to take my life, I may change my mind. A remark I knew he made merely to propitiate the anxieties of his friend.

"Mr. Clay and himself met at 4 o'clock the succeeding evening, on the banks of the Potomac. But he saw no devil in Clay's eye,' but a man fearless, and expressing the mingled sensibility and firmness which belonged to the occasion.

"I shall never forget this scene, as long as I live. It has been my misfortune to witness several duels, but I never saw one, at least in its sequel, so deeply affecting. The sun was just setting behind the blue hills of Randolph's own Virginia. Here were two of the most extraordinary men our country in its prodigality had produced, about to meet in mortal combat. Whilst Tattuall was loading Randolph's pistols I approached my friend, I believed, for the last time; I took his hand; there was not in its touch the quivering of one pulsation. He turned to me and said, Clay is calm, but not vindictive-I hold my purpose, Hamilton, in any event; remember this. On handing him his pistol, Colonel Tattnall sprung the hair-trigger. Mr. Randolph said, ‘Tattnall, although I am one of the best shots in Virginia, with either a pistol or gun, yet I never fire with the hair-trigger; besides, I have a thick buckskin glove on, which will destroy the delicacy of my touch, and the trigger may fly before I know where I am.' But, from his great solicitude for his friend, Tattnall insisted upon hairing the trigger. On taking their position, the fact turned out as Mr. Randolph anticipated; his pistol went off before the word, with the muzzle down.

"The moment this event took place, General Jesup, Mr. Clay's friend, called out that he would instantly leave the ground with his friend, if that occurred again. Mr. Clay at once exclaimed, it was entirely an accident, and begged that the gentleman might be allowed to go on. On the word being given, Mr. Clay fired without effect, Mr. Randolph discharging his pistol in the air. The moment Mr. Clay saw that Mr. Randolph had thrown away his fire, with a gush of sensibility, he instantly ap proached Mr. Randolph, and said with an emotion I never can forget:- I trust in God, my dear sir, you are untouched; after what has occurred, I would not have harmed you for a thousand worlds.'"*

In 1829, declining a re-election, he retired from Congress. He was soon after chosen a member of the convention for the revision of the constitution of his state, and distinguished himself in that body by his opposition to change. One of his most celebrated speeches was called forth in this convention on a proposal to provide the mode in which future amendments should be made in the new instrument. This is one of its marked passages:

Benton has also given a history of this affair.-Thirty Years View, 1. 70.