he occupied the highest position, could not be persuaded to open his
mouth, and all the rest of the brethren were mutes. True, it was like
apostrophizing your own grandmother, in the hope of raising a laugh or
of bringing tears into her eyes, to make speeches at one another across
the table, whatever Molière might be able to do, when alone with his
aged servant. Nor did it much help the matter, when, with a view to the
treasury, which began to threaten a collapse, we made a law, like that
of the Medes and Persians which altereth not, whereby it was provided,
among other things, that no member should ever talk over five minutes,
nor stop short of three, under any circumstances,--the President being
timekeeper, and the sufferer not being allowed to look at a watch. Fines
of course were inevitable, and we were once more able to luxuriate on
bread and cheese, with an occasional pot of beer,--nothing better or
stronger being tolerated among us under any pretence, except on our
anniversaries, when the President, or sometimes a member, stood treat,
and gave us a comfortable, though not often a costly or showy supper.

Among that strange, whimsical brotherhood--consisting of Dr. Tobias
Watkins, editor of the "Portico"; General Winder (William H.), who had
been "captivated" by the British, along with General Chandler, at the
first invasion of Canada; William Gwin, editor of the "Federal Gazette";
Paul Allen, editor of the "Federal Republican," and of Lewis and
Clarke's "Tour," and author of "Noah"; Dr. Readel, "a fellow of infinite
jest"; Brackenridge, author of "Views in Louisiana," and "History of the
War"; Dennison, an Englishman, who wrote clever doggerel; and, at
different times, two or three more, not worth mentioning, even if I
remembered their names--we passed every Saturday evening, after the club
was established, until it was broken up by President Watkins's going to
Washington, Vice-President Pierpont to the Divinity School at Cambridge,
and Jehu O'Cataract abroad. All the members bore "clubicular" names, by