according to the practice, as it now exists, it has lost the faculty of
pronouncing the negative monosylllable. When the Senate expresses
its deliberate judgment, in the form of resolution, that resolution has
no compulsory force, but appeals only to the dispassionate
intelligence, the calm reason, and the sober judgment, of the
community. The Senate has no army, no navy, no patronage, no
lucrative offices, no glittering honors, to bestow. Around us there is
no swarm of greedy expectants, rendering us homage, anticipating our
wishes, and ready to execute our commands.

How is it with the President? Is he powerless? He is felt from one
extremity to the other of this vast Republic. By means of principles
which he has introduced, and innovations which he has made in our
institutions, alas! but too much countenanced by Congress and a
confiding people, he exercises, uncontrolled, the power of the State.
In one hand he holds the purse, and in the other brandishes the sword
of the country. Myriads of dependants and partisans, scattered over
the land, are ever ready to sing hosannas to him, and to laud to the
skies whatever he does. He has swept over the government, during the
last eight years, like a tropical tornado. Every department exhibits
traces of the ravages of the storm. Take as one example the Bank of
the United States. No institution could have been more popular with
the people, with Congress, and with State Legislatures. None ever
better fulfilled the great purposes of its establishment. But it
unfortunately incurred the displeasure of the President; he spoke, and
the bank lies prostrate. And those who were loudest in its praise are
now loudest in its condemnation. What object of his ambition is
unsatisfied? When disabled from age any longer to hold the sceptre
of power, he designates his successor, and transmits it to his favorite!
What more does he want? Must we blot, deface, and mutilate the