In 1828 he was elected to the State Legislature, and in the summer of that year, as one of the political leaders of the State, he induced John C. Calhoun to prepare for the meeting of the Legislature in the autumn the paper known as the South Carolina Exposition of 1828. This, a part of the great Nullification struggle, in which Preston was prominent, did much to shape the policy of the State. In the following year he lost his wife. His second wife, Miss Penelope Davis of Columbia, he married in 1832, three years later. He was returned to the Legislature in 1830 and again in 1832. Sagacious in counsel, popular and eloquent as a speaker, he took the highest rank in this body. He was ready in debate, acute, quick, adaptable, with a wonderful command of language, wielding a great power and attracting a large measure of admiration. In 1836 he was elected to the Senate of the United States. There, too, his talents were recognized and he established an enviable reputation as an orator and statesman. John C. Calhoun was his fellowSenator from South Carolina. The cordial relations at first existing between the two became strained because of Senator Preston's opposition to the policies of the Van Buren Administration. Furthermore, this opposition was not approved by the majority of his constituents; but their efforts at controlling his action failed. When the end of his term was reached, in 1842, he felt that the best and most honorable course would be for him to withdraw. Resigning any further political aspirations, he returned to his law practice. On November 28, 1845, he was elected* president of South Carolina College. Mr. Preston's health was not strong, but he entered upon the discharge of his duties with zeal. In addition to administrative duties, he gave instruction in literature. One of his colleagues writes: "As with glowing enthusiasm and in clear, perspicuous, and picturesque language he called the attention of the students to the mighty men who by their works have ennobled literature, there were few, if any, whose admiration was not enkindled, and whose souls did not catch a portion of his inspiration." As to his administration, the same writer says: "His administration will be regarded as one of the most brilliant in the history of the college. He has added new luster to the bright roll of its presidents, and enjoying a National reputation before his elevation, none have contributed more to spread the fame of the institution. . . . Rarely has there been in the college as elevated a tone as existed at this period." In 1846 Harvard conferred upon him the honorary degree of Doctor of Laws. *See his "Inaugural Address." Repeated attacks of sickness interfered with and interrupted Mr. Preston's administration. The labors connected with the office were arduous, the anxieties incessant, and the responsibility too great for one in feeble health; so that he felt it unwise for him to carry the burden longer, and in the fall of 1851 resigned the presidency. So far as health and strength permitted, he resumed the practice of his profession. Beyond serving as trustee of the college for several years (from 1851 to 1857), he could take but little part in public affairs. His memory remained clear and strong to the end, and he began to write an autobiography, giving a graphic account of the stirring times in which he had lived and the scenes through which he had passed. Unfortunately, his strength did not hold out to the completion of this task. The unfinished manuscript is held by the friends for whose interest the account was begun. He died May 22, 1860. He was a man of brilliant gifts and showed marked ability in whatever capacity he was called upon for service. A finished speaker, his addresses were marked by more than mere grace of oratory or rhetorical charm. There was a nice perception of the strong points of the question, subtle distinction, fertility of invention and illustration, and a mind enriched by an intimate knowledge of the world's best literature. His conversational powers, charm of anecdote, variety, grace, vivacity, elegance, and felicity of expression were famed, and gave rise to the expression Prestonian throughout South Carolina. As a writer he was clear and interesting, though somewhat given to the stately phrasing and the classic allusions of the old school. Francis P. Venable BIBLIOGRAPHY Literary Society in Columbia. 1825 Eulogy on Hugh Swinton Legaré. Inaugural Address as President of South Carolina College. 1846. Collection and Safekeeping of the Public Revenue. Autobiography. (In manuscript. Broken off by ill health and death in 1860.) Congressional Globe for 1836-1842. History of South Carolina College. Second edition. M. La Borde. Chapters XI and XII. Cyclopædia of Eminent and Representative Men of the Carolinas. Vol. I, p. 249. Appleton's Cyclopædia of American Biography. Vol. V, p. 114. Southern Literature. By Louise Manly. P. 199. Celebrities I Have Seen. By Mrs. Martin. New Monthly Magazine, September, 1871. Life and Letters of F. Lieber. Edited by T. S. Perry. Pp. 108, 237, 267, 282. The Green Bag. 1899. Pp. 11, 393, with photographic reproductions. Life of James Henry Thornwell, D.D. By B. M. Palmer. 1875. Pp. 270, 271, 280, 282, 294, 333, 353, 359, 364, 367, 391. THE COUNCIL OF PACIFICATION AT ST. LOUIS From 'Autobiography.' OPPOSITE St. Louis I crossed the river, standing on the platform erected across two huge canoes of black walnut, which were impelled by paddles like those on a steamboat and were worked by hand. Steam was not then (1816) on the Mississippi. St. Louis was literally overflowing with emigrants, a portion of the flood that rolled to the west in 1816. The small tavern was stuffed so full that the nominal guests slept in the piazzas and in hay lofts. Many went out of an evening to camp in the neighboring prairie. Meeting a gentleman in the door of the tavern, he was kind enough to say to me "I can give you a corner in the room of my printing press, until you can look about for better accommodation." From this hospitable though not comfortable re treat, I was next day extricated by Governor Clark (Lewis and Clark) an old friend of my family. The kind gentleman who had given me a roof to sleep under was Mr. Charless, the publisher of a newspaper. In the elegant quarters of Governor Clark I was domesticated during my sojourn and found myself most delightfully situated. Besides all the appliances of comfort and elegance I enjoyed the society of that most benevolent and intelligent gentleman, a man of primitive and heroic character, made up of firmness and tenderness, perfectly familiar with everything belonging to the Western country, having been for years an Indian fighter, then associated in the expedition to the mouth of the Columbia, and now for some time governor of the territory of Missouri. His military and civil functions were well and wisely administered. His wide jurisdiction over the Indians, extending to the Rocky Mountains over a vast and numerous population, was efficiently and graciously exercised. While I was of his household I associated daily with Indian chiefs and others who came on business and, besides, had the opportunity of being present at a grand Indian council held to establish a pacification and make a treaty with a vast congregation of Indian tribes—Mandoes, Miamis, Osage, Sacs, and Foxes, with fragmentary delegations from all quarters. They were encamped round about town in every direction-occasionally, though rarely, drunk in the streets-for they held Governor Clark, whom they called the Old White Chief, in great awe. The Governor was of remarkably fair complexion, with grey locks and light blue eyes-hence the epithet White Chief. On the day of the solemn diplomatic session, the Governor's huge council chamber was adorned with a profuse and almost gorgeous display of ornamented and painted buffalo robes, numerous strings of wampum, every variety of work of porcupine quills, skins, horns, claws and bird skins, numerous and large calumets, arms of all sorts, saddles, bridles, spears, powder horns, plumes, red blankets and flags. In the centre of the hall was a large, long table, at one end of which sat the Governor with a sword lying before him and a large pipe in his hand. He wore the military hat and regimentals of the army. Occasionally a chief came in and had a little conversation through the interpreter, with the Governor and then retired with a slow and solemn step. By and by came in a somewhat miscellaneous troop, a sort of rabble, who formed around the table. The Governor lit a large pipe and taking a puff or two handed it to some of the older men. Pipes were lighted for the rest and they were invited to smoke. This was a short ceremony and they were dismissed with a few kind words and although mixed with warnings, seemed to be satisfactory. At length there was a loud, long roll of the drum and an agent marshalled in the delegation of the Sacs and Foxes. This consisted of eight chiefs at the head of which was a chief leading the son of the late king, a youth sixteen years old. His uncle was regent and guardian to the boy. He and the boy took their places at the end of the table, opposite the Governor, and the other chiefs seated themselves quietly on either side of the table according to no rule of precedence that I could perceive. As they came in the Governor uttered no word nor did he make any salutation. Regarding them with a fixed and stern countenance, he half unsheathed the sword and said, "Well, what have you to say?" There was a sort of gruff groan from each and the regent rising from his seat with his left hand on the shoulder of the prince, said, "I am not the king. He is dead. I have brought the boy here to our great father to show you our confidence. The boy is too young to speak in council. These braves and I will speak for him." There was a general grunt of approbation and he sat down. There was a long pause, the interpreter whispered that they expected a pipe to be lit, but the Governor was imperturbable. At length a chief past middle life, rolled up in a buffalo robe, with a long feather in his hair and his face very much painted, arose and said, "White Chief, we have come down to have a friendly talk with you. There is no more war in our hearts (a general grunt). We are poor and needy, cold and hungry. We want something to eat and ammunition to hunt game or we shall starve next winter. We will behave like dutiful children and never again molest our white brethren.' "Who are you, you rascal," exclaimed the Governor, interrupting him. "I think I know you." (a general groan). "I am," said the speaker, "the first man who broke into the |