James Parton, The life of Horace Greeley

[221] Calhoun he described as the “compactest speaker” in the Senate; Preston, as the “most forcible declaimer;” Evans, as the “most dexterous and diligent legislator;” Benton, as an individual, ‘gross and burly in person, of countenance most unintellectual, in manner pompous and inflated, in matter empty, in conceit a giant, in influence a cipher!’

From Mount Vernon, Mr. Greeley wrote an interesting letter, chiefly descriptive. It concluded thus:—‘Slowly, pensively, we turned our faces from the rest of the mighty dead to the turmoil of the restless living—from the solemn sublime repose of Mount Vernon to the ceaseless intrigues, the petty strifes, the ant-hill bustle of the Federal City. Each has its own atmosphere; London and Mecca are not so unlike as they. The silent, enshrouding woods, the gleaming, majestic river, the bright, benignant sky—it is fitly here, amid the scenes he loved and hallowed, that the man whose life and character have redeemed Patriotism and Liberty from the reproach which centuries of designing knavery and hollow profession had cast upon them, now calmly awaits the trump of the archangel. Who does not rejoice that the original design of removing his ashes to the city has never been consummated—that the<*> where the pilgrim may reverently approach them, unvexed<*> light laugh of the time-killing worldling unannoyed by the vain or vile scribblings of the thoughtless or the base? Thus may they repose forever I that the heart of the patriot may be invigorated, the hopes of the philanthropist strengthened and his aims exalted, the pulse of the American quickened and his aspirations purified by a visit to Mount Vernon!’

From Niagara, the traveller wrote a letter to Graham's Magazine:

‘Years,’ said he,

though not many, have weighed upon me since first, in boyhood, I gazed from the deck of a canal-boat upon the distant cloud of white vapor which marked the position of the world's great cataract, and listened to catch the rumbling of its deep thunders. Circumstances did not then permit me to gratify my strong desire of visiting it; and now, when I am tempted to wonder at the stolidity of those who live within a day's journey, yet live on through half a century without one glance at the mighty torrent, I am checked by the reflection that I myself passed within a dozen miles of it no less than five times before I was able to enjoy its magnificence. The propitious hour came at last, however; and, after a disappointed gaze from the