EVENING SESSION.

President Bayard made a speech, retiring from the Convention. He made a strong speech for the Union.

Judge Meek replied to Bayard. He said: "The gentleman said they had come here to save the Union. They had not-they had come here to save the Constitution." [Applause.]

The following resolution was adopted, and the Convention adjourned:

Resolved, That the Democratic party of the United States who are in favor of the platform of principle recommended by a majority of States in the Charleston Convention, be invited to send delegates to a Convention to be held in Richmond, on the second Monday in June next; and that the basis of representation be the same as that upon which the States have been represented in the Charleston Convention.

APPEARANCE OF THE SECEDERS' CONVENTION IN SESSION.

CHARLESTON, S. C., May 3d.

After the adjournment of the National Democratic Convention, I looked in upon the Seceders in their theatre. The dress circle was densely crowded by ladies. You see at once the patriotism of the Carolina ladies exemplified. There were not more than a dozen of them to witness the proceedings of the Rump Convention this morning, and here they were smiling upon the "constitutional" champions of the South by hundreds. I do not think I had seen the Carolina beauties. There were actually plenty of beautiful women in the theatre this morning, and it has been a customary remark during the sessions of the Convention at Institute Hall, that female beauty was a scarce article in the Carolinas, so far as appeared. But though the women were beautiful, they had not the peach-bloom cheeks and May-cherry lips of the Ohio girls-no, not by any means. Well, the principal feature of the Convention was the ladies. The "performance," while I was present, was fair. In fact, it looked very like a play, the actors having not only occupied the stage, but taken possession of the parquette. The latter was occupied by the delegates, and no impartial spectator could have said, that the representatives of the cotton States there assembled were other than a noble set of men. The chevalier Senator Bayard occupied the chair, and sat near the footlights-a courtly gentleman, whose romantic ancestry and name, as well as his long curls, and fine features, and distinguished air, were admirably adapted to concentrate the gaze of the ladies. The stage scene which was on, was that of the Borgia Palace. Those who have seen the play, will of course remember the "bloods on a spree, one of whom struck off the B, leaving ORGIA, whereupon there was an unnecessary (as always occurred to me) amount of amusement and alarm concerning the freak, and immoderate offense taken at it. Well, in this play the B was already off-the deed had been done. As I first looked at the stage, two gigantic policemen -Irishmen, of course- -with blue frock-coats and brass buttons, and large stars on their breasts, and maces eighteen inches long in their hands, stalked behind the President and Secretaries and Reporters, and mysteriously passed beyond a side scene.

They seemed to be the heavy villains, procured by the designing scoundrel to carry off the virgin in the case, who was in love with somebody else.

The real play was going on in the pit. Mr. Burrows of Arkansas, a black-haired, black-eyed, swarthy, hook-nosed, portly gentleman, had the floor, and was making some very general and very extreme proposition. His idea-and it was not a novel one-of being a bold and original man-is to be as ultra as possible-to out-Herod all the Herods of his party. The fundamental article of his faith, just now, is that Squatter Sovereignty is a great deal worse than the rankest sort of Abolitionism-that Douglas is ever so much more dangerous to the South than Seward, and that the Douglas men are a very bad type of Abolitionists.

Judge Meek of Alabama was next on the floor. The Judge is a gentleman whose height is variously estimated between six feet four and six feet eight inches. He is a lofty specimen, at any rate, and a very powerful public speaker. I do not mean powerful in the "able and eloquent sense in which it has been used in Kentucky. It is remarkable, that in the speeches of the extreme Southern men in this Convention, we have not had any of that peculiar eloquence which we are accustomed to call "Kentucky," because, I suppose, it is a bad imitation of the style of Henry Clay.

WASHINGTON, D. C., May 7th.

The evening after the adjournment of the Convention, Charleston was herself again. But she had not been so dreadfully disturbed as she had anticipated. I was told by gentlemen of the city that they had several times seen greater crowds about the hotels during racing week. The Charlestonians were rather inclined to say, as the contemporary of Noah remarked of the deluge-not much of a shower after all.

We left Charleston for Washington at eleven o'clock of the night of the last day of the Convention. The train was an enormous one for a Southern road, but would have been a trifling affair up North. There were many "distinguished" passengers-there being about an equal number of United States Senators and keepers of Faro tables, the latter wearing decidedly the most costly apparel, having made the most money during their sojourn in the Palmetto City; one gambling house realized twenty-four thousand dollars clear profits, I am told. moon was up and the night beautiful, but there was nothing to see from the windows of the car but swamps and pine forests; but it was the ground made classic by Marion, which was some comfort. The principal features in the journey to me were pine-trees along the road, and six changes of cars.

The

PRESIDENTIAL CANDIDATES IN THE SENATE DOUGLAS, SEWARD AND DAVIS.

WASHINGTON, D. C., May 8th.

*

And here, coming from the cloak room on the Democratic side, is a queer little man, canine head and duck legs-every body knows the

Little Giant-he looks conscious of being looked at; and he is pointed out by a hundred hands, as he makes pretentious strides of about eighteen inches each toward his chair. Two or three of his admirers in the gallery are disposed to applaud, but you hear merely the rattle of a single boot heel. He shakes hands with Clingman of North Carolina, and chuckles with him over something that seems to be highly relished on both sides. The Little Giant wears his black hair long, but it is getting thin, and is not the great tangled mass we saw on his neck a few years ago. And, O Little Giant! it grows gray rapidly. Now he proceeds to twist himself down in his chair as far as possible, and places bis feet in his desk; and thus his admirers in the gallery look upon the prodigious little man, squirming flat on his back. He don't feel very elastic this morning, that is evident. His mouth is closed up as if he was trying to bite a pin in two. He is not all brain, as Senator

Brown says. He requires a large vest-and large as he is about the chest, his waist is becoming still more extensive. But he has an immense head-in height, and breadth and depth-in indications of solidity and force, you cannot find its equal in Washington. There is power under that massive brow, and resolution in that grim mouth; no doubt at all of that. After he has fairly stretched himself and rolled over in his chair, like the trained lion in his cage, he becomes fidgety, and clasps and unclasps his stumpy hands, drums with his white fingers on the arms of his chair, rubs his nose, places his hands affectionately on Clingman's knee, and seems at a loss for occupation.

And now an individual appears on the other side of the House, who at first sight seems to be rather a comical person. He has the most singular head in all the assortment before you. It rises above the ears like a dome, and looks not unlike a straw stack in shape and color. His nose a high, sharp beak-strikes out below the strawy hair that thatches the dome. Can you imagine a jay-bird with a sparrow-hawk's bill-the high tuft of feathers towering above the eyes—the keen hook below? There is a quaintness in that high head and high, sharp nose. You are anxious about the forehead. You are sure that must be a man of talent, and he must have a forehead. But to save you, you cannot tell which is hair and which is forehead. All is of the same parchment hue. You seem once in a while to catch a glimpse of a lofty mountain range of ideality, etc., according to the maps of the phrenologists. And then you are not sure but it is hair. This tall and peaked and pallid head is perched upon a body that is active and restless. It moves about with school-boy elasticity. It walks with a slashing swagger. It strikes off with a rollicking gait from one point to another, and is in and out of the chamber by turns. There is an oddity in the dress in harmony with the general queerness of the thing. The pantaloons have a dingy oaken appearance. You would not be surprised to see breeches of that color in Oregon, but in the Senate-chamber they are without a parallel. And did you ever see so much tail to a frock-coat in your life? Hardly. There is certainly a grotesque amount of coat tail. Now after making the round of the Republican side of the chamber about twice in ten minutes he offers from the chair (next the main aisle and most remote from the Vice

President's) a petition, in a hoarse croaking voice; and when the VicePresident recognizes The Senator from New York," there is a stir in the galleries and a general stare at the gentleman with the top-knot and beak and voice. He sits down, takes a pinch of snuff, and presently you hear a vociferous sneezing, and the high-headed, straw-thatched gentleman is engaged upon his beak with a yellow silk handkerchief. And you remember that Seward takes snuff, and has ruined his voice by the nasty habit. In the Republican corner of the Senate-chamber is a familiar face and form-you recognize the portly person and massive intellectual developments, the thin frizzly hair and oval brow of Salmon P. Chase. Next him is Gov. Dennison. Seward comes up to them and seems to be guilty of some good thing, for they laugh violently but quietly, and Seward rubs his oaken breeches with his hands and then gives his nose a tremendous tweak with the yellow handkerchief. He is wonderfully affable. He acts as though he would kiss a strange baby. Ah, he is a candidate for the Presidency.

The crowd has filled the galleries of the Senate-chamber, expecting to hear Jeff. Davis's speech; and there are expectations that Douglas will reply. The hands of the Senate clock approach the points indicating the hour of one, and the people are weary of the monotonous reading of bills and petitions by title, and the presentations of the miscellany of deliberative bodies in audible tones. Ah! here he comes. The crowd in the galleries give a buzz of relief, and every body tells his right hand man— "here he comes-t -that's Jeff. Davis." And can it be possible that he proposes to make a speech? You are surprised to see him walking. Why, that is the face of a corpse, the form of a skeleton, Look at the haggard, sunken, weary eye-the thin white wrinkled lips clasped close upon the teeth in anguish. That is the mouth of a brave but impatient sufferer. See the ghastly white, hollow, bitterly puckered cheek, the high, sharp, cheek bone, the pale brow full of fine wrinkles, the grizzly hair, prematurely gray; and see the thin, bloodless, bony, nervous hands! He deposits his documents upon his desk, and sinks into his chair as if incapable of rising. In a few minutes the Vice-President gives his desk a blow with his ivory hammer, calls for profound order, and states "that the Senator from Mississippi" has the floor. Davis rises with a smile. His speech was closely reasoned, and his words were well chosen. Once in a while he pleased his hearers by happy period; but it was painfully evident that

he was ill.

THE BALTIMORE NATIONAL CONSTITUTIONAL UNION

CONVENTION.

LIST OF DELEGATES.

[From the Secretary's Roll.]