commenced a series of threatening menaces.  The waiters were not accustomed to such feints, and one, before we were conscious, of it had run down stairs and alarmed the house.  Landlord, servants, and a whole troup of police, came rushing into the hall, as the two gentlemen of Verona, revealing the joke, made the politest bows over their glasses, which they gracefully emptied.  I was about deciding that Monsieur Souley’s language was decidedly personal, when he proclaimed his determination to postpone his speech until to-morrow.  He would however, conclude by proposing a toast, which he need scarcely add would be heartily responded to by every one present.  He would propose the health of the venerable statesman on the chairman’s right—­a man who had long and worthily maintained the highest rank among his country’s statesmen, and whose opinions (although he differed with them at times) were world-wide! (Great sensation).  Mr. Buckhanan now rose, evidently affected by the immensity of the cheers.  His mien was at once dignified, and when contrasted with the promiscuous countenances that surrounded him, wore an air singularly American.  He began by saying he was happy to say he did not feel himself a stranger in a strange land. (This being translated into Dutch by Monsieur Souley, the invited guests present received it with loud acclamations).  We read the same books; we were animated by a kindred love of liberty; we spoke the same language; we enjoyed the same immunities of a constitutional government; and that spirit which animated us to fight for liberty had its origin in the same stock!  Here Mr. Belmont interposed by reminding the venerable statesman that the Dutch of Pennsylvania and New York could not be said properly to represent the whole American Union.  Order being demanded and restored, Mr. Buckhanan apologised for the grave error, which he charged to the delicious quality of the krout.  He seemed unconscious of what he had been saying, and suddenly became aware that he had mistaken his theme, and was letting off the big end of his model speech, with which he had so often entertained his friends at feeds given by sundry Lord Mayors of London.  The joke was too good; the old man could not suppress a laugh at his own mistake, and sat down, intimating that as he would have something to say to-morrow he would now bring his speech to a close. (Uproarious applause).  Again Monsieur Souley rose, and amid shouts of—­’question!’ said the question was of no kind of consequence, that he always went on the principle of making himself heard.  Further attempts to rein up Monsieur Souley would have been sheer madness; so he continued his speech, which included fifty irrelevant topics without discussing one.  He even charged Louis Napoleon with poisoning the champagne.  Whatever of truth there might be in the charge, we only know that the speaker ere he had concluded his speech found himself standing alone, the whole Congress having dropped off into a profound sleep.  Becoming indignant