Our attention is now attracted to a ray of light ,located on the left of the House, in the neighborhood of the Speaker's chair. It proceeds from that wonderful man, who in his persona combines the agitator, poet, phil osopher, statesman, critic, and orator—John Quincy Adams. ‘There he sits, hour after hour, day after day, with untiring patience, soever absent from his seat, never vowing for an adjournment, vigilant as the most jealous member of the House, his ear ever on the ale, always prepared to go at once into the profoundest question of state or the minutest points of order. We look at him, and mark his cold and tearful eye, his stern and ab stracted gaze, and conjure up phantoms of other scenes. We look upon a more than king, who has filled every departmenut of hovor in his native and, sill at his post; he who was President of millions, now the rep resentative of forty odd thousand, quarrelling about fines, or advocating high principles— today growling and sneering at the House with an abolition petition in his trembling hand, and anow lording it over the passions, and lashing the members into the wildest state of enthusiasm by his indignant and eaiphatic eloquence. Alone, unspoken to, unconsulted with oth ers, he sits apart, wrapped in his reveries, or probably he is writing—his almost perpetual employment. He looks enfeebled, but yet he is never tired, worn out, but ever ready for combat: melancholy, but let a witty thing fall from anty member, and that old man’s face is wreathed in smiles. He appears pas sive, but no to the unfortunate member that hazards an arrow at him—the eagle is not swifter in this flight than Mr. Adams, with his agitated finger quivering in sarcastic gestic ulation, he seizes upon his foe, and amid the amazement of the House, rarely fails to take a signal vengeance. His stores of knowl edge on every subject, gathered up through the course of his extmordinary life, is said never to have permited a single fact to es cape it, give him a great advantage over all comers in encounters of this kind. He is a wonderful, eccentric genius. He belongs to no party, nor does any party belong to him. He is of too cold a nature to belong a party leader. He is originally of very peculiar ideas, and perfectly fearless and independent in expressing and maintaining them. His manner of speaking is pecular, he rises ab ruptly, his face reddens, and in a moment, throwing himself in the attitude of a veteran gladiator, he prepares for the attack, then he becomes full of gesticulation, his body sways to and fro, self-command seems lost, his head is bent forward until it touches the desk, his voice frequently breaks, but he pursues its subject through all its bearings, nothing davots him—the House may wring with cries of order! unmoved, contemptuous, he stands amid the tempest, and like an oak that knows its gnarled and knotted strength, stretches his arm forth, and defies the blast. Dem. Review.