“Scarcely had the deputation of very ancient and honorable red republicans taken itself into the street, when entrance was demanded by a deputation from ‘The Hopeful Order of Polish Exiles.’  The individuals constituting it were lighter of person and complexion than the reds; and, too, there was about them an air of melancholy which at once touched the tender of my feelings.  They bore with them a long petition, and humbly but devoutly prayed America to make their cause her own (here they produced several of Saunders’ circulars):  they asked only to enlist in her bond of brotherhood.  Long had they waited the coming of this day—­the day when she would invade Europe, and fight the battle of Liberty against despotism.  Sweet was the recollection of a fatherland; to them it became sweeter as they contemplated that great star of liberty all powerful in the West.  They spoke Scandinavian in silvery accents.  Monsieur Souley’s genius was for once at fault:  he spoke only French, Dutch, and bad Spanish, rendering it necessary to call in the aid of Hanz, who, having rendered it into Dutch, Monsieur did the rest.  Dismissing this very distinguished deputation with a positive assurance that their case should be at once referred to the great George Saunders, nothing more was required.  ‘I would suggest,’ spoke Mr. Belmont, rising with great gravity, as the satisfied gentlemen made their last bow at the door, ’whether it be not necessary to close the door against further deputations, it being expedient to proceed with the transaction of more important business?’ To this Messrs. Sullivan, Buckhanan, and Souley rose, greatly agitated.  Souley said he had the floor, and would not yield an inch.  Mr. Buckhanan had only a word to say.  Mr. Sullivan gave way.  Monsieur Souley said he had great sympathy for all oppressed citizens.  He could not but characterize such language as had been used by the learned statesman, Mr. Belmont in reference to these very respectable bodies, as contrary to the spirit of our institutions.  Mr. Belmont bowed, and left the speaker to indulge his love of speech, which was again interrupted by a terrific thundering at the door, which opened,—­not to a deputation, but to a whole platform of rejected humanity, presenting the most grotesque appearance.  Falstaff’s invincibles would convey no comparison.  Some were hatless and shoeless; some had sleeveless coats and tattered trousers:  others had collars but no shirts; all had faces immersed in massive beards.  Two-and-two abreast, they walked, in with an independent air, each provided with a Saunder’s circular, and took up a position in a half-circle just behind the seats of the several members of the Congress.  The person who represented them, and who could boast of but one shoe, and one sleeve to his coat, and had a countenance smothered in hair, now approached Monsieur Souley as Monsieur Souley approached him, and both bowed.  I ought to have mentioned that this last procession was preceded by one of their number, wheeling