The debate on the subject of the treaty bad been unu sually protracted. In the course of it great liberties had been taken in the exercise and expression of indi vidual feelings; and the collision of party politics had been inordinately keen. The public mind, having felt a deep and lively interest in it at first, had become weary and exhausted by its unexpected length, and was now extremely anxious that it should be brought to a close. The house itself, particularly the great body of the members NI ho had already spoken, gave strong manifestations of the same temper. For several days, the question had been repeatedly called for, by nume rous voices at once, with a vehemence amounting al most to disorder.
During all this time, Mr Ames, in a feeble and shat tered state of health, and bowed down by a load of lan guor and despondency, had remained a silent spectator of the conflict. lie had even determined not to speak at all, because he felt himself unequal to the exertion, and had, therefore, made no preparatory arrangements. As the moment, however, approached when he was to join in the vote—a vote, on which, in his estimation, de pended the future prosperity and happiness of his coun try, his resolution forsook him, and his patriotism tri umphed over his prudence. From an expectation, on the part of some, that the question would be that day decided, and of others, that, perhaps, 'Mr Ames would be induced to speak, the lobbies and galleries of the house were overflowingly crowded. The flower of Phi ladelphia was present on the occasion.
Under these circumstances, with a pale countenance and a languid air, the orator rose, and, in a voice feeble at the commenc: mem, addressed himself to the chair. When he first took the floor, a murmur of approbation escaped from the audience, who, in their keen impa tience that the debate should be closed, would have been tempted to frown on any other speaker. To this invo luntary expression of the public satisfaction succeeded the most profound silence, that not a syllable might es cape unheard. Animated, for the moment, by the work ings of his mind, and inspired, as it were, by the occa sion, with a degree of life and strength, to which his frame had long been a stranger, the orator's ardour and energy increased, as he proceeded, his voice acquired a wider compass, and he carried the house triumphantly Jong with him. Never was men gazed at with more Ftedfast attention ; never was he listened to with more :t:tilling delight. Pale and sickly, as it war, his coon tenant.; seemed at times, under the irresistible illusion of the to be irradiated with more than mor tal fires, and the intonations of his voice to be marked with more than mortal sweetness. We speak leeling,ly,
for we heard him throughout ; and never can his image he effaced From our recollection, nor his accents seem to lade on our ear. Even now, after a lapse of nearly six teen years, his look, his gesture, his attitude—all the orator seems embodied before us, and we dwell in ima gination on the sound of his voice with undiminished delight. lie addressed himself to every faculty of the mind, and awakened every feeling and emotion of the heart. Argument, remonstrance, entreaty, persuasion, terror, and warning, fell, now like the music, and now like the thunder of heaven, from his lips. He seemed like Patriotism in human form, eloquently pleading for the salvation of his country. The effect produced re sembled the fabled workings of enchantment. fle threw a spell over the senses, rendering them insensible to every thing but himself. We venture to assert, that while he kept the floor, no person present had the slight est consciousness of the lapse of time.
When he resumed his seat, the audience seemed to awake as from a dream of delight. So absorbed were they in admiration—so fascinated and subdued by the charms of his eloquence, that no one had the proper command of his faculties. Conscious of this, a leading member in the opposition moved for an adjournment, that the house might have time to cool, and the vote not be taken under the influence of the overwhelming sen sibility which the orator had excited. This circumstance was in itself a tribute to the eloquence of Mr Ames far beyond what language can bestow. It was a confession, extorted from a political adversary, that even the spirit of party was vanquished by his powers.
In the autumn of the same year, the college of Prince ton, in consideration of his distinguished rank as a scho lar and a statesman, conferred on Mr Ames the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws.
His health being somewhat restored by regimen and travel, he was enabled to appear in the national legisla ture during the winter of 1796-7, although not to fill up his usual sphere in the duties of the house. Still, however, lie was a leading member. The splendour of his former services had thrown around him unfading honours, and given him an ascendency which little else than his presence was requisite to maintain. But even now he was far from being a silent spectator of events. In the debate which ensued on the answer of the house to the president's speech, he vindicated in a strain of the loftiest eloquence, and in a style of eulogy peculiar to himself, the claim of Washington to the unqualified love and gratitude of the nation.