the California and Territorial Bills drawn up by Mr. Douglas, united.  It was at his own suggestion that this was done; and when Mr. Clay objected, on the ground that it would be unfair for the Committee to claim the credit which belonged exclusively to another, he rebuked him, and asked by what right he (Mr. Clay) jeoparded the peace and harmony of the nation, in order that this or that man might receive the credit due for the origin of a bill.  Mr. Clay was so struck by the manner and observation, of Mr. Douglas, that he grasped his hand and said,—­“You are the most generous man living!  I will unite the bills, and report them; but justice shall nevertheless be done to you as the real author of the measures.”  It has been.

Some time after this, he had occasion, to visit Chicago, and his friends were desirous that he should address the people in defence of the principle involved in the Kansas-Nebraska Bill.  On Saturday night he appeared before his audience in the open square in front of North Market Hall.  His opponents had been more active than his friends.  Ten thousand roughs, determined to make trouble, had assembled there; and when the speaker appeared, they saluted him with groans, cat-calls, ironical cheers, and noises of all kinds.  That sort of thing in no way annoyed him.  He was used to it.  On similar occasions he had by wit and good-humor succeeded in gaining a respectful and generally an enthusiastic hearing, and he expected to do so now.  He was mistaken.  For four hours the contest raged between them.  He entreated, he threatened, he laughed at them, told stories, bellowed with the entire volume of his sonorous voice, but without success.  They defied and insulted him, until the clock in a neighboring church-tower tolled forth the midnight hour.  “Gentlemen,” said Douglas, taking out his watch, and advancing to the front of the stand, “it is Sunday morning.  I have to bid you farewell.  I am going to church, and you—­can go to ——.”  Whereupon, he retired, and the crowd followed, hooting, jeering, and screaming, until they left him at the door of his hotel.

No man living possessed warmer friends than Mr. Douglas.  I saw tears of sorrow fall from the eyes of hard-featured Western men, when at the Charleston Convention it became evident that he could not receive the Presidential nomination.  Hard words were spoken and hard blows were given in his cause there, and subsequently at Baltimore; and it is doubtful if ever caucusing or struggles for success insured more bitter or lasting hatreds than were engendered during the prolonged contests at those places.  The result of that strife, the subsequent canvassing of the country in search of friends and votes, and the ultimate defeat, worked wonderful changes in him, morally and physically.  All that in years past he had looked for, all he had struggled for, seemed put forever beyond his reach; and he was from that hour a different man.  Fortunately for him, gloriously for his reputation, the people