Or, continued the orator, more vehemently, do they think, in that
case, to carry their slaves into territories now free? No, not if the
Chief-justice of the United States--and here a volley of applause
rattled in, and the orator wiped his forehead--not if the venerable
Chief-justice Taney should live yet a century, and issue a Dred Scott
decision every day of his life.

Here followed the sincerest applause of the whole evening; and the
Easy Chair pinched his neighbor to make sure that all was as it
seemed; that these were words actually spoken, and that the orator was
Edward Everett.

The hour and a half were passed. The peroration was upon the speaker's
tongue, closing with an exhortation to old men and old women, young
men and maidens, each in his kind and degree, to come as the waves
come when navies are stranded--to come as the winds come when forests
are rended--to come with heart and hand, with purse and
knitting-needle, with sword and gun, and fight for the Union.

He bowed: the audience clapped for a moment, then rose and bustled
out.

--It was not fair; no, it was not fair. The Easy Chair did not
find--how could it find?--the charm which those of another day
remembered. The oration was an admirable and elaborate address, full
of instruction and truth and patriotism, the work of a remarkably
accomplished man of great public experience. It was written in the
plainest language, and did not contain an obscure word. It was
delivered with perfect propriety, with the confidence that comes from