Floating in Congressional waters, but unlike his awful prototype which is securely fastened to the bottom of the sea, at all hours of the legislative day may be seen the burly form of Huntington, the great, huge devil-fish of the railroad combination, bearing not the slightest resemblance to his elegant associates, so far as grace of manner or personal appearance is concerned. Cast in the same colossal mould as William M. Tweed, with all the grossness exaggerated and all the majesty left out, he ploughs the Congressional main, a shark in voracity for plunder, a devil-fish in tenacity of grip; for once caught in the toils of the monster for the helpless victim there is no escape. At the beginning of every session this representative of the great Central Pacific comes to Washington as certain as a member of either branch of Congress; secures his parlors at Willard’s, which soon swarm with his recruits, both male and female, until scattered in the proper direction by order of the commander-in-chief. What a motley collection of camp followers. To the naked eye are visible ex-senators and ex-members, discharged Capitol employees who are thoroughly informed as to the “ropes,” whose business it is to warn those who have the privilege of the floor the auspicious moment for a successful raid. Every weakness of a Congressman is noted, whilst the wily Huntington decides whether the attack shall be made with weapon of the male or female kind. Tall and broad, both round and square, a quivering mass of concentrated sensuality, bold enough to appear in public with the scarlet woman on his arm, a heroism which daunts the courage of the vilest of his own sex, not content with his already princely gains he now seeks, like the late Jim Fisk, to lay a whole continent under his avaricious tribute. Said a member of Congress: “He can draw his check for hundreds of thousands of dollars; everything which is in the market he can buy.” During his life the time is too short for the people to learn how to checkmate him. He is to this age what Alexander, Hannibal, and the great Napoleon were to the past. He governs, but not with cold iron or steel; he uses keener and more subtle weapons. Instead of the bullet which cleared the way in a former age, man’s honor is the point which receives the poisoned poniard. What will be the fate of the Republic when all national legislation is permitted to become defiled? Within the memory of middle-aged men foreign ministers were not allowed the privilege of the floor. These sacred aisles have now become headquarters for the kings of lobby, who are as much at home there as the Senators of the widest fame.