The earliest of these occasions was when, under the influence of the President of that day, backed by Jefferson Davis in the Cabinet, an illegal government was set up in a distant Territory, which, in defiance of the people there, proceeded to institute an infamous Black Code borrowed from Slavery. The President countenanced the illegal government, and smiled upon the Black Code. The representatives of Slavery in both Houses of Congress, with their Northern allies, indifferent to human rights, and greedy only of political power, sustained the President in his disregard of a fundamental principle of the Declaration of Independence, that governments derive “their just powers from the consent of the governed.” The contest was unequal. On one side was a struggling people, insulted and despoiled of their rights; on the other side was the President, with all the vast powers of the Republic, with patronage less than now, but very prevailing, and with a great political party yielding an unhesitating support. The contest reached this Chamber. Naturally it came before the Committee on Territories, where happily the good cause was represented by Jacob Collamer, of Vermont. The interest increased with each day; and when the Committee reported, a scene ensued without example among us. The reports of committees are usually handed in and ordered to be printed; but now, at the impassioned call of a Senator from South Carolina,[11] the report of the Committee, whitewashing incredible outrages, was read by the Chairman at the desk of the Secretary of the Senate. The Chairman left his seat for this purpose, and stood face to face with the Senate.[12] For two hours the apology for that usurpation which had fastened a Black Code upon an inoffensive people sounded in this Chamber, while the partisans of Slavery gloated over the seeming triumph. There was a hush of silence, and there was sadness also with some, who saw clearly the unpardonable turpitude of the sacrifice. Mr. Collamer followed with a minority report, signed by himself alone, which he read at the desk of the Secretary, standing face to face with the Senate. Jesse D. Bright was at the time our President, but he had installed in the chair on that momentous occasion none other than that most determined artificer of treason and drill-sergeant of the Rebellion, John Slidell, who sat behind, like Mephistopheles looking over the shoulder of Truth,[13] while the patriot Senator, standing before, gravely unfolded the enormities that had been perpetrated. Few then present now remain; but none then present can fail to recall the scene. The report which Mr. Collamer read belongs to the history of the country. But the scene comes clearly within the domain of Art. In the long life of our departed friend it was his brightest and most glorious moment,--beyond anything of honor or power, whether in the cabinet or on the bench. For what is office, compared to the priceless