to make his point—that, although of the party in opposition, he felt as deeply, and resented as instantly, any infringement of the dignity of the Government as any citizen of the republic—and that such was the feeling in his party. His own people saw his lead and applauded tremendously. Just then the Speaker's gavel fell. Loud cries of "Go on! Go on! Give him half an hour more! Give him an hour!" rang out. Pembroke had ceased in the middle of a sentence, and had sat down.
"Is there objection to the gentleman from Virginia continuing?" asked the Speaker, in an animated voice. "The Chair hears none. The gentleman will proceed."
The applause now turned into cheers and shouts. One very deaf old gentleman moved forward to Pembroke and, deliberately motioning a younger man out of his seat, quietly took possession of it, to the amusement of the House. The little page, who was evidently a pet of the old gentleman, stole up to him and managed to crowd in the same chair. Shouts of laughter followed this, followed by renewed applause for Pembroke, in which his opponents good-naturedly joined. Then Pembroke felt that the time had come. He had the House with him.
He spoke for an hour. He merely took the Volkonsky incident for a text. He spoke of the regard for the common weal exhibited by his party, and he vigorously denounced his opponents for their attempt to make party capital out of that
