Several years ago, Sir, some of the wits of England wrote a mock play, intended to ridicule the unnatural and false feeling, the sentimentality of a certain German school of literature.  In this play, two strangers are brought together at an inn.  While they are warming themselves at the fire, and before their acquaintance is yet five minutes old, one springs up and exclaims to the other, “A sudden thought strikes me!  Let us swear an eternal friendship!” This affectionate offer was instantly accepted, and the friendship duly sworn, unchangeable and eternal!  Now, Sir, how long this eternal friendship lasted, or in what manner it ended, those who wish to know may learn by referring to the play.

But it seerns to me, Sir, that the honorable member has carried his political sentimentality a good deal higher than the flight of the German school:  for he appears to have fallen suddenly in love, not with strangers, but with opponents.  Here we all had been, Sir, contending against the progress of executive power, and more particularly, and most strenuously, against the projects and experiments of the administration upon the currency.  The honorable member stood among us, not only as an associate, but as a leader.  We thought we were making some headway.  The people appeared to be coming to our support and our assistance.  The country had been roused, every successive election weakening the strength of the adversary, and increasing our own.  We were in this career of success carried strongly forward by the current of public opinion, and only needed to hear the cheering voice of the honorable member,

     “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more!”

and we should have prostrated for ever this anti-constitutional, anti-commercial, anti-republican, and anti-American policy of the administration.  But instead of these encouraging and animating accents, behold! in the very crisis of our affairs, on the very eve of victory, the honorable member cries out to the enemy,—­not to us, his allies, but to the enemy:  “Hollo!  A sudden thought strikes me!  I abandon my allies!  Now I think of it, they have always been my oppressors!  I abandon them, and now let you and me swear an eternal friendship!” Such a proposition, from such a quarter, Sir, was not likely to be long withstood.  The other party was a little coy, but, upon the whole, nothing loath.  After proper hesitation, and a little decorous blushing, it owned the soft impeachment, admitted an equally sudden sympathetic impulse on its own side; and, since few words are wanted where hearts are already known, the honorable gentleman takes his place among his new friends amidst greetings and caresses, and is already enjoying the sweets of an eternal friendship.