and canals from “Maine to Louisiana,” and a system of harbors for lake and ocean.  He kindled, he glowed, at the spectacle which his imagination conjured up, of the whole country rendered accessible, and of the distant farmer selling his produce at a price not seriously less than that which it brought on the coast.  On this subject he became animated, interesting, almost eloquent.  And, so far from this advocacy being confined to the period of his “entrance upon political life,” he continued to be its very warmest exponent as late as 1819, when he had been ten years in public life.  In that year, having to report upon the condition of military roads and fortifications, his flaming zeal for a grand and general system of roads and canals frequently bursts the bounds of the subject he had to treat.  He tells Congress that the internal improvements which are best for peace are best for war also; and expatiates again upon his dazzling dream of “connecting Louisiana by a durable and well-finished road with Maine, and Boston with Savannah by a well-established line of internal navigation.”  The United States, he said, with its vast systems of lakes, rivers, and mountains, its treble line of sea-coast, its valleys large enough for empires, was “a world of itself,” and needed nothing but to be rendered accessible.  From what we know of the way things are managed in Congress, we should guess that he was invited to make this report for the very purpose of affording to the foremost champion of internal improvements an opportunity of lending a helping hand to pending bills.

Mr. Calhoun served six years in the House of Representatives, and grew in the esteem of Congress and the country at every session.  As it is pleasing to see an old man at the theatre entering into the merriment of the play, since it shows that his heart has triumphed over the cares of life, and he has preserved a little of his youth, so is it eminently graceful in a young man to have something of the seriousness of age, especially when his conduct is even more austere than his demeanor.  Mr. Clay at this time was addicted to gaming, like most of the Western and Southern members, and he was not averse to the bottle.  Mr. Webster was reckless in expenditure, fond of his ease, and loved a joke better than an argument.  In the seclusion of Washington, many members lived a very gay, rollicking life.  Mr. Calhoun never gambled, never drank to excess, never jested, never quarrelled, cared nothing for his ease, and tempered the gravity of his demeanor by an admirable and winning courtesy.  A deep and serious ambition impelled and restrained him.  Like boys at school, Clay and Webster were eager enough to get to the head of the class, but they did not brood over it all the time, and never feel comfortable unless they were conning their spelling-book; while little Calhoun expended all his soul in the business, and had no time or heart left for play.  Consequently he advanced rapidly for one of his size, and was universally