of the introduction. And when they had exchanged
civilities and bows to their satisfaction, the commodore
spoke as follows: “Since, sir, the high
honor of presenting you with the congratulations of
our club devolves upon me, I may here be permitted
to say, that no event of my whole life has afforded
me so much pleasure. In presenting, then, their
hearty congratulations, welcoming you at the same
time to our great metropolis and its hospitalities,
I cannot too highly express my sense of the many services
you have rendered the country, which owes you a higher
reward than this club can bestow. In addressing
the great and the good-the hero who has fought his
country’s battles, and the statesman who has
carried her safely through impending dangers, our
emotions too frequently carry away our power to render
due homage. Let me beg you, then, to make every
allowance for this feeble manifestation of our high
regard. Your fame as a statesman and patriot,
as a soldier and a gentleman, is well known and appreciated
among us. You have, whenever your country required,
lent it the strength of your arm and the influence
of your high position; and we seek to pay you homage,
because we know, that should she need it again, you
would not be found wanting. Nor do we forget your
high personal worth, for we have read how well and
worthily you have acted the part of a philanthropist,
in raising up suffering humanity and redressing the
outraged. As an humble expression of our esteem,
we beg you then to accept the services of the squadron
under my command, in escorting you to the city, where
your many political admirers are prepared to receive
you with such honors as greatness never fails to command.”
The speaker concluded, maintaining his gravity of
countenance. But the major bowed and was not a
little confused, while several of those who stood
by, cried out “bravo!” and were much diverted.
“Truly, Mr. Commodore,” replied the major,
whose head was so thin that he had let every word
of the speech I prepared for him get out of it, “as
a principle, you may set it down that the weight of
an honor is best felt by the man who has deserved
it. In accepting the flattering tribute of respect
you offer me, let me say, that although I am no scurvy
politician, and have opinions enough of my own, I
intend to let history take care of my acts, for the
verdict of the nation, which is an exacting tribunal,
is rendered in my favor, and if the devil and my enemies
only mind their business, there will be no need to
meddle with it, as I have heard it said of other men.
And now that I am more a man of acts than words, as
no doubt you have read, let me say that I accept this
great honor, the sincerity of which is evident in
the earnestness with which you offer it, with as many
thanks as a man can, hoping that your great metropolis
may grow greater and be all you expect of it; and like
a chaste and virtuous woman, do you see to her, that
she be not exposed to the designs of demagogues, and