On March 31, at last he took leave of the Senate, and his farewell again became one of those dramatic incidents in which his life abounded. A rumor had spread that he intended to deliver a valedictory speech when presenting the credentials of his successor. An eager audience crowded the galleries as well as the floor of the Senate. In a flow of stately sentences he pictured the grandeur of the Senate of the United States; he spoke of his long career of public service, of his unselfish endeavors, of the enmities to which he had been exposed, and of the fidelity of his friends. In touching words he expressed his gratitude to the state that had been so faithful to him. He could not refrain from defending himself against the most recent charge brought against him, that he had played the dictator. He owned that his nature was warm and his temper ardent; and if he had ever, in the heat of debate, wounded the feelings of any of his brother Senators, he offered them the sincerest apology, and the assurance that he carried not a single resentment with him. After a few words of warm and graceful tribute to his successor, John J. Crittenden, he invoked Heaven's blessings upon them all, and closed. The Senate sat silent for a moment, when Preston of South Carolina rose and said that what had just taken place was an epoch in their legislative history, and from the feeling which was evinced, he saw that there was little disposition to attend to business. He therefore moved an adjournment, which
