"Sir, we can not abandon it unless we yield to a principle that will unhinge and unsettle the balances of the Constitution itself. If the President of the United States can interpose his authority upon a question of this character, and can compel Congress to succumb to his dictation, he is an emperor, a despot, and not a President of the United States. Because I believe the great question of congressional power and authority is at stake here, I yield to no importunities of the other side. I feel myself justified in taking every advantage which the Almighty has put into my hands to defend the power and authority of this body, of which I claim to be a part. I will not yield to these appeals of comity on a question like this; but I will tell the President and every body else that, if God Almighty has stricken one member so that he can not be here to uphold the dictation of a despot, I thank him for his interposition, and I will take advantage of it if I can." Mr. McDougall, of California, replied to Mr. Wade. This wayward Senator from California has wide notoriety from his unhappy habits of intemperance. He has been described by a writer unfriendly to his politics as "the most brilliant man in the Senate; a man so wonderfully rich, that though he seeks to beggar himself in talents and opportunities, he has left a patrimony large enough to outdazzle most of his colleagues." He frequently would enter the Senate-chamber in a condition of apparent stupor, unable to walk straight; and after listening a few moments to what was going on, has arisen and spoken upon the pending question in words of great beauty and force. On this occasion Mr. McDougall is described as having been in a worse condition than usual. His words were muttered rather than spoken, so that only those immediately about him could hear; and yet his remarks were termed by one of his auditors as "one of the neatest little speeches ever heard in the Senate." His remarks were as follows: "The Senator from Ohio is in the habit of appealing to his God in vindication of his judgment and conduct; it is a common thing for him to do so; but in view of the present demonstration, it may well be asked who and what is his God. In the old Persian mythology there was an Ormudz and an Ahriman--a god of light and beauty, and a god of darkness and death. The god of light sent the sun to shine, and gentle showers to fructify the fields; the god of darkness sent the tornado, and the tempest, and the thunder, scathing with pestilence the nations. And in old Chaldean times men came to worship Ahriman, the god of darkness, the god of pestilence and famine; and his priests became multitudinous; they swarmed the land; and when men prayed then their offerings were, 'We will not sow a field of grain, we will not dig a well, we will not plant a tree.' These were the offerings to the dark spirit of evil, until a prophet came who redeemed that ancient land; but he did it after crucifixion, like our great Master.