who only eat twice a day,) the members of the household are brought together in such kindly intercourse around the family board!  How seldom would they assemble thus pleasantly, were it not for the meal!

The little wounds and scratches which the sharp edges of our characters will inflict upon each other, when brought together in the necessary contact of daily intercourse, would otherwise be suffered to fret and vex us sorely; but before they have had time to fester and inflame, meal-time comes, and brings with it the magic, mollifying oil.

It is meet, then, (we spell the word with two e’s, mind you,) that, on any occasion of public rejoicing, the banquet should be an indispensable accompaniment.  The accomplishment of some important public enterprise, the celebration of the birth-days of great and good men, a nation’s holidays, the reuenions of friends engaged in a common cause, are occasions in which the dinner, very properly, constitutes one of the leading features.

And what can be more exhilarating than the innocent mirthfulness, the unaffected kindnesses, the witty speeches, the sprightly conversations which are universally incident to such occasions?  No wonder Lycurgus decreed that the Spartans should eat in public.  Ostensibly, it was for the sake of the grave conversations of the elders at such times, but really, I imagine, it was to keep the citizens (who had been at swords’ points with each other) in a good humor, by bringing them around a common table.

He knew that if any thing would soften their mutual asperities and cultivate mutual good feeling, such a measure would.  Would it not be well for modern times to take a hint here?  Had I been appointed architect of the Capitol, I think I could have saved the feuds which long ago sprang up, and which have resulted in, and will yet bring about, alas! we know not how much bloodshed.  I would have constructed a couple of immense dining-rooms, with all the necessary appurtenances.  Just to think how different would have been the aspect of things in the chamber where Sumner once lay bleeding, and in the hall where a gentleman, in a melee, ’stubbed his toe and fell!’ There would have been Mr. Breckinridge, in a canopied seat at the head of one of the tables, rapping the Senate to order with his knife-handle, and Mr. Orr at the head of the other, uncovering an immense tureen, with the remark that ’the House will now proceed to business!’ How strange it would be to hear any angry debate at such a time!  Imagine a Congressman helping himself to a batter-cake and at the same time calling his brother-member a liar! or throwing down his napkin, by way of challenge to ‘the gentleman on the opposite side of the table!’ Think of Keitt politely handing Grow the cream-pitcher, and attempting to knock him down before the meal was dispatched.  Had the discussion of the Lecompton Constitution been carried on simultaneously with