There are two classes of speakers whom it is difficult to report verbatim. The first is the speaker whose speech is not worth listening to, and who cannot therefore secure ihe attention of his audience; the second is he whose speech is so full of interest as to absorb not only the attention of the auditory, but the interest and sympathy of the reporter. A correspondent at Washington gives an illustration of a speaker of the first class.

"Congress is engaged in the same melancholy, wordy warfare which has characterized its proceedings ever since any of us can remember. Its chief function has long since ceased to be - if indeed it ever was - despatch the business of the nation. Only think of it! Here are four to six speeches a day, each an hour long, in the House alone. The one hour rule is a priceless rule - and yet some member actually moved to-day that it be suspended during the progress of this debate! It is the only salvation the country has, the sole barrier interposed between the deluge of talk and the devoted people - and yet they want to sweep it away. Without it we should be set adrift on a shoreless sea of stump oratory - every individual member would talk from two to six hours, if he could get the floor, and some of them, once started, would never dry up. It is very curious to witness the method of making speeches which chiefly prevails here. First, the Honorable member for Buncombe writes his speech. This is easy. Then he devises means for its delivery. This is not so easy. He lies in wait for the Speaker's eye - gets up little ambushes, and sudden starts, and surprising exclamatory tones of voice - all aimed to secure that darling goal of his ambition, " getting the floor." The floor once secured, for that day or the next, he fortifies himself for a long campaign He imports from that inexhaustible limbo of Congressional documents, a small

pile of volumes of Congressional Globes or Reports, with which he erects a fortification on his desk. On the top of this pile he places his manuscript, while from behind the rampart he discharges his elocution and gesticulation. Beside the rampart, one of those dancing little Pucks of pages places a glass of water, with which the honorable member for Buncombe ever and anon moistens his whistle. And so it goes on - the long screed lasts an hour - hard reading - and then if the honorable member for Buncombe is not through, some kind fellow-member, conscious of his own impending wants in the same direction, moves that he have ten minutes to finish his speech! At the end of the ten minutes he has probably not got to "Amen," but the inexorable hammer falls, and cuts short a peroration which wastes its sweetness on - to-morrow's Globe.

Now and then, there are members who break through this stereotyped essay reading, and talk extemporaneously. But there are seldom so many as half a dozen really capable and entertaining speakers in any one House of Representatives. These are listened to attentively - often very eagerly; but the others - if heaven had not deprived them, among other things, of a sensitive mind, how would they groan inwardly at the woful and wilful inattention and irreverence of of their audience! Half the members regularly out of their seats, if not out of the House, half the remainder bending over their desks intensely occupied in writing letters of business or friendship, and of the small remainder - scarce half a dozen pay sufficient attention to the orator to so much as look at him. Were it not for the Speaker, and report ers, many speeches might just, as well be spoken in the quiet domestic solitude of the honorable member for Buncombe, as in the Capitol at Washington."

Another correspondent furnishes us with an illustration of the rarer class of speakers - the effective ones.

"I heard the speech of - throughout, and never listened with such deep interest, and to few, if any, with so much

emotion. It was difficult to restrain one's self from tears, when at the allusion of - to the great men of the country now dead and gone, and at his vivid portrayal of the horrors and evils of dissolution and civil war, we saw the venerable Senator O - , who sat directly in front of - , shedding tears, and finally, overcome by his feelings, cover his face with his handkerchief and bow his head in order to conceal his emotions. Nearly every Senator on both sides was in his seat, no man was as usual engaged in writing letters, no one called for pages, no one answered messages, but every Senator sat with his eyes intently fixed upon the orator's face and gesture, and every ear in the vast assembly was strained to catch his every word. There have been but few such scenes witnessed in the United States Senate. The occasion, the subject, the hour and the man, all conspired to make this the event of this session thus far."

Jan. 1861