The office of President _pro tempore_ among us grows out of the anomalous relations of the Vice-President to the Senate. There is no such officer in the other House, nor was there in the House of Commons until very recently, when we read of a “Deputy Speaker,” which is the term by which he is addressed, when in the chair. No ordinary talent can guide and control a legislative assembly, especially if numerous or excited by party differences. A good presiding officer is like Alexander mounted on Bucephalus. The assembly knows its master, “as the horse its rider.” This was preëminently the case with Mr. Foot, who was often in the chair, and for a considerable period our President _pro tempore_. Here he showed special adaptation and power. He was in person “every inch” a President; so also was he in every sound of the voice. He carried into the chair the most marked individuality that has been seen there during this generation. He was unlike any other presiding officer. “None but himself could be his parallel.” His presence was felt instantly. It filled this Chamber from floor to gallery. It attached itself to everything done. Vigor and despatch prevailed. Questions were stated so as to challenge attention. Impartial justice was manifest at once. Business in every form was handled with equal ease. Order was enforced with no timorous authority. If disturbance came from the gallery, how promptly he launched the fulmination! If it came from the floor, you have often seen him throw himself back, and then with voice of lordship, as if all the Senate were in him, insist that debate should be suspended until order was restored. “The Senate must come to order!” he exclaimed; and, like the god Thor, beat with hammer in unison with voice, until the reverberations rattled like thunder in the mountains. The late Duc de Morny, who was the accomplished President of the Legislative Assembly of France, in a sitting shortly before his death, after sounding his crier’s bell, which is the substitute for the hammer among us, exclaimed from the chair: “I shall be obliged to mention by name the members whom I find conversing. I declare to you that I shall do so, and I shall have it put in the ‘Moniteur.’ You are here to discuss and to listen, not to converse. I promise you that I will do what I say to the very first I catch talking.” Our President might have found occasion for a similar speech, but his energy in the enforcement of order stopped short of this menace. Certainly he did everything consistent with the temper of the Senate, and he showed always what Sir William Scott, on one occasion, in the House of Commons, placed among the essential qualities of a Speaker, when he said that “to a jealous affection for the privileges of the House” must be added “an awful sense of its duties.”[25]