of being independent in his circumstances.  Though unknown to the country, his fame had preceded him to Washington; and the Speaker, Mr. Clay, gave him a place on the Committee on Foreign Relations.  This Committee, considering that Congress had been summoned a month earlier than usual for the express purpose of dealing with foreign relations, was at once the most important and the most conspicuous committee of the House.

Mr. Calhoun’s first session gave him national reputation, and made him a leader of the war party in Congress.  We could perhaps say the leader, since Mr. Clay was not upon the floor.  After surveying the novel scene around him for six weeks, he delivered his maiden speech,—­a plain, forcible, not extraordinary argument in favor of preparing for war.  It was prodigiously successful, so far as the reputation of the speaker was concerned.  Members gathered round to congratulate the young orator; and Father Ritchie (if he was a father then) “hailed this young Carolinian as one of the master spirits who stamp their names upon the age in which they live.”  This speech contains one passage which savors of the “chivalric” taint, and indicates the provincial mind.  In replying to the objection founded on the expenses of a war, he said: 

“I enter my solemn protest against this low and ’calculating avarice’ entering this hall of legislation.  It is only fit for shops and counting-houses, and ought not to disgrace the seat of power by its squalid aspect.  Whenever it touches sovereign power, the nation is ruined.  It is too short-sighted to defend itself.  It is a compromising spirit, always ready to yield a part to save the residue.  It is too timid to have in itself the laws of self-preservation.  Sovereign power is never safe but under the shield of honor.”

This was thought very fine talk in those simple days among the simple Southern country members.

As the session progressed, Mr. Calhoun spoke frequently, and with greater effect.  Wisely he never spoke.  In his best efforts we see that something which we know not what to name, unless we call it Southernism.  If it were allowable to use a slang expression, we should style the passages to which we refer effective bosh.  The most telling passage in the most telling speech which he delivered at this session may serve to illustrate our meaning.  Imagine these short, vigorous sentences uttered with great rapidity, in a loud, harsh voice, and with energy the most intense:—­

“Tie down a hero, and he feels the puncture of a pin; throw him into battle, and he is almost insensible to vital gashes.  So in war.  Impelled alternately by hope and fear, stimulated by revenge, depressed by shame, or elevated by victory, the people become invincible.  No privation can shake their fortitude; no calamity break their spirit.  Even when equally successful, the contrast between the two systems is striking.